#we interrupt your regularly scheduled programming

[afrsconp]

Oh wait, one other thing I wanted to say about Mythic Quest:

Does anyone else think Brad was acting really, really strange during the murder mystery episode? Like yeah, he said he was trying to get David drunk enough to 'accidentally' burn the house down, but he could've done that without hanging out with him so much or pretending to be so friendly. He could've just kept plying David with booze and David probably would've accepted, because he explicitly said at the start of the episode that he was being Fun Dave that night and Fun Dave was the result of copious amounts of alcohol. Plus he was already upset/annoyed enough to go drown his sorrows on his own after the others killed him off.

Brad even apologised afterwards, and hung out with him AGAIN even after the gig was up.

I guess you could chalk it up as Brad being super drunk too, but I really don't think he was. In fact I don't think you ever see him drink anything at all during the whole episode? He's holding drinks or making drinks, but doesn't actually drink anything himself. He'd want to stay sober enough to enact his arson plan, for one, but I'm also not sure that Brad would let himself get that drunk in front of other people. He seems to value self-control too much.

So yeah. It was all quite weird.

[trashogram]

It’s weird to me that there’s a subset of people that want to die on the hill of Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps just being friends and not becoming a couple. Like I absolutely get it, male-female friendships are important and should be shown onscreen but also with all the allegorical context, they’d be a mixed race couple and those are important to see too.

[trashmenagerie]

I am frothing at the mouth. I'm the embodiment of the ProZD Tumblr Tags video.

My favorite Chinese band is not just coming on tour to America, they are coming to my city.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[phantomoftheorpheum]

CHRISJEN AVASARALA | the once and future queen

[front-facing-pokemon]

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

The Day of the Doctor 23.11.2013

[macksartblock]

I’m crazy but I am free

[crownomancer]

Rebel - Basim Ibn Ishaq

[astranauticus]

this woman was made to deal critical damage to me specifically

[themissingnumbers]

Hey... Professor Maple? You still around? I know most of these places that the cameras are looking at, most of 'em are pretty big landmarks, but I've never heard of a "Glitch City". What's, uh... what's up with that one, boss?

Ace has been contently working on a laptop at the opposite side of the lab- on being addressed, though, they turn around, pulling out the earbuds they'd been using. (Seems they haven't been paying too much attention to your conversation, then....)

"What's that? Glitch City- right, right. That's an interesting one. In fact- very exciting, um..."

"If it works."

They suck in a breath through their teeth, motioning to the monitor showing Cam 01.

"That's the one I personally have been most interested in exploring. See, my other assistant set all these cameras up in those other locations I'd requested, but... This was one I hadn't even been aware of. I tried to ask about it, but I didn't really get any straightforward answers. Just a name for it... The signal is awful- that cam bugs out far more than the others, that I can barely make anything out through the corruption. There's got to be something out there, though... I was hoping you might have better luck finding whatever it is than I have."

BEGINNING | EXPLORATION/PREV | NEXT

[picture-me-in-the-trees]

“divorce him. kill yourself. marry me.”

“no.”

“to which bit??? :(”

[afrsconp]

Sorry Ghosts fam, I need to interrupt the usual content for a second and get these thoughts out about a different fandom.

So I binged all of Mythic Quest really fast, then read a bunch of braddavid fic (A+ stuff btw) and meta, and I'm surprised that, of the two of them, Brad is the one that gets the most character analysis. Because to me, it's David who's much, much harder to get a read on.

I mean yeah, we get almost nothing of Brad's personal life, but the tiny glimpses of his backstory that we do get make it pretty clear that his very traumatic childhood led him to create this asshole persona to protect himself. Like it all seems pretty linear: his natural instinct to be kind and care deeply about people/things led to the trauma of what happened to Kate, so he ended up equating kindness with weakness and taught himself to ignore those instincts and go the opposite direction instead. To not caring about anything other than money and power, because that's how he could build and retain power (and by extension, protection) for himself.

But David? It's a lot harder to figure out. He's so openly clingy and needy and tries way too hard; he's the butt of everyone's jokes. But because he's used for comedy most of the time, it's easier to not notice that when he is being serious, it's revealing trauma that's on par with Brad's. Like that scene when he went up to the rooftop and it's implied that he was considering jumping off the building, and David Hornsby does some amazingly subtle work there because when Jo asks him why he came to the roof, for a second or two you see the most terrible, heartbreaking look in his eyes before the scene switches to comedy again.

And it happens over and over again. The way he was so upset when Ian and Poppy took over the Christmas party, all the hints about his shitty childhood and his ex-wife not treating him well, his extreme loneliness, how much he drinks, taking Xanax, having trouble sleeping. Like the guy is not well, you know?

So the ship is so interesting to me because both of them go to extremes to hide the same truths about themselves (not wanting to get hurt) but they do it in completely opposite ways. Brad went the uncaring asshole route, and David went the oversharing, overly desperate route. It's all just surface level though, and whenever they get rejected they can just blame it on those surface level things instead of deeper insecurities (I'm worthless, I'm fat, I'm a waste of space, I'm old). But like, I get the feeling that Brad almost convinced himself that he really is the uncaring asshole he spends so much time pretending to be, whereas David is a little more aware of the fact that he's lying to himself. Idk.

And then there's the stuff we're getting in the current season, where their character arcs weirdly mirror each other. They started off as opposites - Brad prioritising money/himself and David prioritising other people/relationships - and now they're starting to meet in the middle.

That's why it seemed like such a huge deal to me that Brad actually acknowledged, out loud and to another person, that he's capable of changing due to meeting the right people. Anna tells him that that statement left him exposed, and it really did - and I think part of Brad's arc this season will be realising that being exposed like that isn't necessarily a weakness.

And David's whole breastplate thing, facing his fears, putting himself out there, and coming to terms with certain truths about himself... I keep thinking about the way he shut down Ian's bullshit about the movie so quickly. We've seen him be incredibly effective when he doesn't panic, and I hope we get a little more of that.

I don't think braddavid will ever become canon, but I do hope the show lets them be friends. Because I really do think that they have the potential to understand each other in a way none of the other characters ever could.

[trashogram]

Tbh I'll admit, I do ship Nick and Judy hardcore and would like for them to be a couple. Disney even released matching "Wildehopps" wedding rings and I was like :O

Granted custom made wedding bands, but they still seemed to be approved by Disney. Not to say this is 100% for sure that means they are going to be a thing, perhaps just acknowledging how popular the couple is at best, but even so.

Perhaps just keeping their relationship ambiguous is good enough and fans can just work out whatever they wish in their heads.

But yeah, I do love this pairing...if not only because of the size difference, I'm kind of a sucker for size difference pairings too.

I like wildehopps too. I think it’s cute and would salute it as penance for not making Maid Marion a lioness in Disney’s Robin Hood. Mixed species Disney couples deserve a chance!

Maybe it’s just where I look, but people are weird about the pairing and very insistent that their relationship be strictly platonic. And y’all know me. I’m a spiteful old hag and I love it when brats cry :3

Speaking of rings:

[adallegra]

not now kitten daddy’s doing critical damage to his spotify wrapped

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[cressidagrey]

Bribery remains effective

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming to celebrate Oscar's 4th career win!

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar Piastri thought doing kindergarten drop-off for his daughter would be easy — until Bee negotiates like a Formula 1 strategist and declares that the chickens at home are better friends than her classmates.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar knelt beside Bee at the gate, one hand steadying the tiny bee-shaped backpack on her back, the other gently tucking a rogue curl into her cap. The air smelled like damp grass and crayons, and the sound of squealing toddlers echoed faintly from the building.

Bee was not impressed.

Normally, Felicity did the drop-off. Normally, Bee clung to her mama’s leg until she was gently convinced inside with the promise of a post-kindy snack and a story. 

But Oscar was home for the day…and so he had decided that letting his wife sleep in and doing the drop off would be a simple way to make her week easier. 

So here he was, still bleary-eyed, in his team hoodie, coffee in hand—as the designated parent.

The other parents stared at him, and Oscar wasn’t surprised at all. He was pretty sure that he still looked like half a teenager playing at being a dad. Oh well. They could believe whatever they wanted. 

Bee stared at the school gate like it had personally insulted her.

“I don’t want to go,” she said, in that tiny, serious voice of hers.

Oscar sighed, crouching to her level. “We talked about this. You’re just going to be here until lunch.”

“I know,” Bee muttered, arms crossed. “But it’s so loud, Papa. Everyone is shouting. And they don’t even wash their hands properly.”

Oscar tried not to smile. “You don’t have to shout. You just have to be kind. And listen to Miss Eleanor.”

Bee made a face. “Miss Eleanor made me sit on the carpet. It was sticky. Someone put raisins in their shoes.”

Oscar blinked. “…Why would someone put raisins in their—never mind. Look, I know it’s not your favourite, but Mama and I just want you to spend time with other kids your age. It’s good for you.”

“I’d rather be with the chickens.”

He chuckled. “The chickens don’t teach social skills, Bumblebee.”

“Yes they do,” Bee said seriously. “Vettel always shares the feed. And Lauda only pecks if someone’s rude first.”

Oscar rubbed his face. “You named chickens after F1 legends. That doesn’t count as a peer group.”

Bee scuffed her boot in the gravel. “I just don’t like it here.”

Oscar softened, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “I know, sweetheart. I didn’t like school much either. But sometimes we do hard things because they help us grow.”

Bee gave him a withering look. “I’m already growing, Papa. Mama said I grew out of my shoes last week.”

“…Technically not what I meant.”

She looked up at him, frowning. “Are you going to leave?”

Oscar nodded slowly. “Just for a bit. Mama or I will pick you up. She promised mochi if you were brave today.”

Bee’s eyes lit up, but then she narrowed them suspiciously. “With sprinkles?”

“Yes.”

“And chocolate milk?”

“With the bendy straw.”

She considered this. Very seriously.

“…Fine,” she said at last, with the air of a queen making a reluctant royal decree. “But tell Mama the carpet was sticky again and I still think the chickens are better friends.”

Oscar leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Deal. Go be your brilliant self, okay?”

Bee nodded solemnly and allowed herself to be led inside by the cheerful classroom assistant, her boots squeaking slightly as she walked.

Oscar watched until the door shut behind her, then pulled out his phone and texted Felicity.

Drop-off complete. Still prefers chickens over humans. Also, she wants chocolate milk with the bendy straw.

A second later, Felicity replied:

My girl. Bribery remains effective.

Oscar smiled down at the message. 

***

The gravel crunched under Oscar’s tyres as he pulled into the drive of their home, the morning still misty with leftover rain and the gentle clucking of chickens from the coop drifting lazily through the air. He left the car with the windows cracked and the doors unlocked. No one around here stole things, and even if they did, they'd have to face Senna the Chicken first.

He toed off his sneakers at the back door, rubbed the sleep from his face, and called out, “Fliss?”

No answer—just the low hum of music coming from upstairs. The kind Felicity only played when she was home alone and getting things done. Oscar followed the sound of it, yawning as he went, and when he reached their bathroom door, it was fogged from steam and slightly ajar.

The shower was on.

He grinned.

The clothes she'd dropped on the floor were her pyjamas, an oversized cricket shirt of his from their school days, that by now was threadbare and thin, and  had a hole in one sleeve…and also had the name PIASTRI emblazoned over her back whenever she wore it. 

Oscar stripped off his hoodie and pants and quietly stepped inside the steamy bathroom, pushing the door open gently.

Felicity was already halfway through washing her hair, head tilted back under the stream of water, when she felt the shift of air behind her.

She didn’t jump.

“Morning,” she murmured, voice calm and lazy. “You’re late.”

“Bee negotiated hard,” Oscar said, stepping into the shower behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Full mochi package, plus the chocolate milk. With the bendy straw, or she said the deal was void.”

Felicity laughed, leaning back into him. “She’s terrifying.”

“She said the carpet was sticky again.”

“She always says that.”

Oscar nuzzled into the curve of her neck, pressing a kiss to her damp shoulder. “She also said she’d rather hang out with Vettel the chicken.”

“I mean,” Felicity said, turning slightly to look at him, “I get it.”

Oscar laughed softly, the sound muffled against her skin. “Hey… I was thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“About Silverstone,” he said, tightening his arms around her. 

Felicity stilled just slightly. “…Oscar.”

“I think you should bring her. For the weekend. She would love the paddock.”

Felicity sighed. “You know what that means, though. If we bring her to a Grand Prix—that Grand Prix—she’s going to start asking the karting question again. And we both know what happens after that.”

Oscar was quiet for a second, his breath warming her spine. “I know. I just… I think we’re kidding ourselves if we pretend she’s not already five steps ahead of us. She’s been watching the telemetry from my onboard and taking notes since last year.”

Felicity groaned. “I know. She told me last week your braking into Turn 4 was ‘too soft.’ Then she decided to write a better strategy for you.”

Oscar smiled against her shoulder. “She’s not wrong.”

Felicity turned around, suds still in her hair, eyes serious now. “Oz, I don’t want her to think she has to be anything just because she’s good at it.”

“I know,” he said, brushing her cheek. “And we won’t let it be like it was for you. No pressure. No proving anything to anyone. Just… if she wants to try karting, we let her. That’s all.”

Felicity studied him for a long moment. “And if she decides she wants to race?”

Oscar’s voice was steady. “Then we’ll make damn sure she’s not alone doing it.”

There was silence, except for the steady stream of water.

Felicity sighed, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “She is going to ask for a kart for her birthday if we bring her to Silverstone.”

“Like Father, like daughter.”

“You’re unreal,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Oscar grinned, pulling her into him again. “So that’s a yes?”

Felicity groaned. “Fine. But you can explain it to our bank account when she wants a sim rig upgrade at seven.”

Oscar pressed a kiss to her wet forehead. “Deal.”

And just like that, she relaxed into him, the water still running, their quiet little world still intact—just with the inevitable reality that their tiny, terrifying genius was about to make her Silverstone debut… and probably ask for race gloves in size XXS.

Felicity was still smiling when Oscar leaned in again, water cascading down over both of them, warm and comforting. She had her hands flat against his chest, fingertips tracing the faint lines of his collarbones, her eyes searching his like she was looking at something she’d never quite get used to having.

He bent slightly, brushing his nose against hers. “I missed you this morning.”

“You were gone for thirty minutes,” she murmured.

“Too long.” His lips ghosted over her cheek, slow and tender. “You smell like my shampoo.”

“You used all of mine,” she countered.

“I regret nothing.”

She let out a breath of a laugh, but the sound caught slightly when his hands slid from her back down to the curve of her waist, thumbs tracing her hips with practiced ease. The tension that had been knotted in her spine slowly started to ease, the hum of the water drowning out everything else.

Oscar kissed her, finally—soft at first, a gentle press of lips that deepened as Felicity responded, curling her fingers into the damp hair at the back of his neck. The kind of kiss that wasn’t rushed or frantic, but warm and familiar, full of the kind of affection that only comes from building a life with someone.

Her back pressed to the cool tiles, the contrast against the heat of his mouth making her shiver. Oscar pulled back just a little, resting his forehead against hers.

“You know I’d do anything to protect her,” he whispered. “You too.”

“I know,” she said softly, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “That’s why I said yes.”

His hand skimmed up the curve of her spine, drawing a quiet sigh from her lips. She tilted her face toward his again, their kiss deeper this time—slower, surer. They didn’t have to say much anymore. They knew each other’s rhythms. Knew exactly where to touch, where to pause, how to press close and just breathe in each other.

The steam wrapped around them like a cocoon. His hand cupped her cheek, the other still tracing the dip of her lower back, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them.

Oscar murmured something into the corner of her mouth—something about how beautiful she was when her eyes softened like this, how she always smelled like motor oil and vanilla, how he loved her more every time she argued with him about torque ratios.

She kissed the words off his lips.

The rest of the morning could wait. The mochi, the chickens, the race prep—all of it could wait.

Because right now, in the steam and the quiet, it was just the two of them. And the water, and the warmth, and the familiar ache of loving someone so deeply it made the whole world feel still.

And Oscar wasn’t going anywhere.

Felicity’s breath hitched as Oscar leaned in again, slower this time—his lips trailing from the corner of her mouth, down the curve of her jaw, to the spot just beneath her ear that made her knees weaken, even after all these years. She held onto his shoulders, grounding herself against the solidity of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest.

“I didn’t expect you back this fast,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

Oscar’s voice was low and warm, his hands firm around her waist. “Bee marched in like a soldier on a mission. She barely looked back. Well, after she remembered to negotiate for mochi.”

Felicity laughed softly, the sound turning breathless as his lips grazed her collarbone. “Our terrifying little extortionist.”

“Our terrifying little genius,” Oscar corrected, pressing a kiss to the top of her shoulder. “She’s so much like you.”

“She’d probably rather be here with the chickens and engine parts.”

Oscar smiled against her skin. “She’ll be in her own garage by seven at this rate.”

Felicity ran her fingers down his chest, slow and deliberate, tracing the path of a water droplet down his sternum. “You say that like it doesn’t terrify you.”

“I am terrified,” Oscar admitted, his voice husky now. “But I’m also completely in awe of both of you.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes softer than usual, something unspoken lingering between them.

Oscar leaned in again, this time with more urgency—his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that said everything he hadn’t. One hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, the other gripping her waist as she leaned into him, letting him anchor her against the tile.

Felicity kissed him back, slow and deep and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.

Because for now—they did.

The water pounded around them, hot and steady, fogging the glass, fogging the mirrors, wrapping them in the kind of intimacy that didn’t need candlelight or silk sheets. Just warm water, a quiet morning, and the one person who had always chosen her—again and again.

When Oscar finally pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, they were both breathless.

She smiled lazily, the curve of her mouth soft and familiar. “Are you trying to convince me to bring Bee to Silverstone or seduce me into saying yes?”

He grinned, brushing his nose against hers. “Can’t it be both?”

Felicity hummed. “You’re lucky you’re charming.”

Oscar kissed her again, slow and lingering.

“Luck,” he murmured against her lips, “has nothing to do with it.”

Felicity’s laugh was quiet and close, her lips brushing Oscar’s as she whispered, “Mm. Arrogant.”

“Confident,” he corrected with a grin, kissing her again before she could roll her eyes.

She didn’t stop him.

The water kept streaming down over them, warm and constant, soaking her hair, running in rivulets over his shoulders. Felicity’s fingers found their way into his damp curls, and she pulled him closer—like she could anchor herself there. Like maybe she needed to.

Oscar felt it in the way she held him. Not urgent, not rushed—just present. Wanting to be known, held, seen.

And he did. He always did.

His hands slid lower, framing the soft curve of her hips, the dip of her waist. Her skin was warm and slick beneath his palms, and she leaned into him, kissing him like she wasn’t afraid of being vulnerable anymore. Like she trusted him to carry her weight.

“Do you really want her at Silverstone?” she murmured, her breath catching as he kissed her neck again, just beneath her jaw.

“I want her to see me win,” Oscar said against her skin. “I want her to feel what it’s like to be part of this. To know she belongs here if she wants it.”

Felicity’s hands stilled where they’d been trailing down his back.

“She’ll start asking about karts.”

“I know.”

“She’ll want to race.”

Oscar leaned back just enough to look her in the eyes. His thumb brushed a bead of water from her cheek. “Then we get her a kart. And we let her have fun. Not pressure. Not expectations. Just fun. We’ll protect her from the rest.”

Felicity searched his face for a long, quiet moment.

And then she kissed him.

It was slower than before. Deeper. Like a thank-you. Like a surrender. Like she was choosing this life again—messy, chaotic, tender, filled with love and sharp edges and tiny rainboots on kindergarten mornings.

Oscar kissed her back with equal reverence, pulling her fully against him until the water, the steam, and the rest of the world faded away.

Eventually, the water started to cool.

They didn’t notice.

Not for a while.

***

Oscar could tell something was wrong the moment they stepped through the kindergarten gates.

Usually, Bee came barreling toward them like a sugar-powered rocket, her little boots stomping across the yard, curls bouncing, arms outstretched like she might take off. But not today.

Today, she was sitting alone on the edge of the sandbox, clutching her bee-shaped backpack in her lap like it was armor. Her cheeks were flushed—not the sun-kissed kind, but the blotchy, too-still kind. Her mouth was set in a small, tight line. Her curls were messier than usual, and there was a faint smudge of dirt on her elbow.

Felicity saw it too. She didn’t say anything. She just handed Oscar her bag and strode across the yard without hesitation.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly, crouching beside Bee. “You okay?”

Bee didn’t answer right away. She just stared at the sand, her tiny fingers clenched tight around the strap of her bag.

Felicity’s chest ached.

Oscar arrived behind her, crouching too. “Bumblebee?”

Bee finally looked up at him, her lip wobbling. “Papa,” she whispered, and then, without warning, she lunged into his arms.

Oscar caught her easily, lifting her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him like she was afraid the world might fall apart if she let go.

“What happened?” Felicity asked gently, brushing a damp curl off Bee’s forehead.

Bee didn’t answer at first. Her little voice was muffled in Oscar’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna come back.”

Oscar’s arms tightened around her. “Hey, hey. You don’t have to right now. It’s okay.”

“They were mean,” Bee choked out. “They said I was weird ‘cause I know stuff. One boy pushed me. I fell on my hands.”

Felicity’s face darkened with a fury only a mother could manage. She gently took Bee’s hands and turned them over—her palms were scraped, faint pink scratches just starting to sting.

Oscar looked like he might kill someone. “Who pushed you?”

“Oscar,” Felicity said quickly. “Not here.”

He closed his eyes, jaw tight. “Right.” He kissed Bee’s temple. “Did a teacher help?”

Bee sniffled. “Miss Eleanor said it was an accident. But he pushed me.”

Felicity looked at her husband. “We’ll speak to the school. Tonight.”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. We’re not letting this slide.”

Bee’s grip on his hoodie tightened. “I just wanted to talk about the moon. They said that was boring.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Felicity said softly. “It’s not boring. It’s amazing. You are amazing.”

Bee blinked up at her, bottom lip trembling. “Then why don’t they like me?”

Oscar felt something in his chest splinter.

Felicity stepped in close, wrapping both of them in her arms. “Because sometimes, people are mean to the ones they don’t understand. But that doesn’t mean you have to change.”

Bee buried her face in Oscar’s shoulder again, quiet now. Small.

Oscar looked at Felicity over her head. “No more kindergarten this week.”

Felicity nodded. “Agreed.”

“We’ll fix her hands, give her chocolate milk,” Oscar murmured, rubbing Bee’s back, “and tomorrow we can spend the day in the garage. Just us.”

Bee sniffed. “With the chickens?”

Oscar smiled. “With all the chickens.”

“And Mama?”

Felicity kissed her forehead. “Of course. I’ll even let you polish the headlamps.”

Bee perked up just a little at that, the tiniest glimmer of hope returning to her eyes.

Felicity smoothed her hair back. “Let’s go home, baby.”

Oscar stood, Bee still in his arms, holding on tight.

She didn’t let go the whole way to the car.

***

The kettle was humming on the stove. A mug sat on the counter, waiting for Bee’s chocolate milk. Felicity had already added the whipped cream and sprinkles, just the way she liked it. Bee sat on the kitchen island wrapped in one of Oscar’s oversized hoodies, sleeves dangling past her fingers, a chicken-patterned bandage on each scraped palm.

She was still sniffling occasionally, but the tears had stopped. Oscar leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching his daughter with a familiar ache in his chest.

He glanced at Felicity, who stood on the other side of Bee, gently brushing out her curls with careful fingers.

It was the right moment.

“Hey, Bumblebee,” Oscar said softly.

She looked up, lower lip still pouting slightly. “Yeah?”

Oscar came closer and tapped the tip of her nose. “How do you feel about coming to Silverstone?”

Bee blinked. “Like… the track?”

“Yeah,” Felicity said, setting the brush down. “Silverstone. We were thinking… maybe you’d come along.”

Bee’s eyes went wide. “Really?!”

Oscar grinned. “Really. You, me, and Mama. In the garage. With the team. You could wear a headset and everything.”

Bee stared at them both, her mouth slightly open. “But—Mama said it was too loud. And too busy. And there’s too many people.”

Felicity nodded slowly. “It is all those things. But… you’re a little older now. And you’ve been very brave lately.” She glanced meaningfully at Oscar. “And we thought maybe it was time.”

Bee’s whole face lit up like the sun had risen behind her eyes. “I get to come to the paddock?” she squeaked.

“Yes, you can come. You’ll be in the garage with me and Mama. You can watch the cars, take notes if you want—” Oscar said with a smile. 

Bee gasped. “Can I bring my whiteboard?”

Felicity smirked. “Only if you don’t correct Papa’s Boss in the middle of a briefing.”

Bee looked between them, her eyes glowing. “Wait, does this mean I get my kart now?”

Felicity groaned, eyes closing. “Called it.”

Oscar pretended to consider. “Maybe. We could go look at some after Silverstone.”

Bee gasped again, dramatic and joyful, and threw herself at Oscar with all the enthusiasm of a sugar-fueled missile.

“You’re the best papa ever!” she cried, hugging him tightly.

Felicity smiled behind her hand, watching the way Oscar wrapped his arms around their daughter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you so much,” Bee added. “But also, I need to design my helmet tonight. It has to be perfect.”

Oscar kissed her head. “Start sketching after dinner. You’ve got some time.”

Bee nodded furiously, then paused. “Can the chickens come too?”

Felicity didn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not.”

Oscar grinned. “Maybe just a sticker of Senna on your backpack.”

Bee gasped. “YES.”

And just like that, the scraped palms and unkind words from the morning melted into distant memory—replaced with whiteboards, karting dreams, helmet designs, and the quiet, unshakeable safety of being seen.