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solarmorrigan · 4 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, part 10

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Ao3

[Warning for reference to sexual activities, fairly brief]

Robin watches Steve walk past the “Action” section with an armful of Schwarzenegger films three times before she says anything.

“You’re distracted today.”

“Hm?” Steve looks up at her, snapping out of whatever vacant thought he’d slipped away into and entirely proving her point. “Sorry, what?”

“Distracted. You.” Robin points down the correct aisle. “The Terminator and his ilk go down there.”

Steve shakes his head. “Right, sorry.”

Following him over, Robin leans against the end of the shelf while Steve sorts through cases that Robin knows have already been organized. “So what’s got your head in the clouds?”

Steve is quiet for a moment longer. He doesn’t seem unhappy – he seems lighter, actually. He’s not in the same weirdly good mood he’s been in for the last week, but he’s a little more settled, so whatever it is, Robin figures it can’t be bad.

Finally, he glances around the store (it’s empty; Sunday nights hardly even require two employees once the afternoon rush has died out, but Robin won’t complain about being paid to sit around and do nothing for a while), and then says, “Eddie and I are dating. Like, for real this time. I think.”

The words come out in a bit of a rush, and it takes Robin a moment to decide that, yes, she’d heard them correctly.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is exactly as pointed as she’d meant it to be, if the way Steve winces at the question is any indication.

“The last you told me, you two were ‘talking about it’ and ‘taking it slow.’” Air quotes are heavily employed to illustrate Robin’s new skepticism.

“And we were!” Steve says quickly.

“That was, like, two weeks ago, Steve!” Robin says. “That is not slow!”

“Well it’s not like we just jumped into it! We did talk, and we went on a couple of dates–”

“What? When? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

“I mean, the first was last weekend, so–”

Robin gasps, jabbing a finger at Steve. “You lied to me!”

“I did not,” Steve insists, pointing a finger right back at her, though it doesn’t have quite the same effect with one arm still full of clunky plastic cases.

“You did! You asked me to take your shift because, and I quote, you were going to do something for yourself,” Robin shoots back.

“And I did! I gave myself the chance to see where this thing with Eddie was going,” Steve says.

“Or, you gave yourself the chance to fall right back into the same pattern that hurt you before,” Robin says.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s different this time,” he says, more quietly.

“How?” Robin demands. “Because ‘dating for real this time, I think,’ doesn’t sound that different.”

“I mean, we didn’t say the word dating, exactly, but…” Steve shifts a little on his feet, but stands firm. “He told me that he loves me.”

“Uh huh,” Robin drawls. “And was that before or after you slept together?”

She regrets it the moment she says it, regrets it the moment the words form and she knows they’re going to come out, but it’s too late. She can see the flash of genuine hurt on Steve’s face before he buries it beneath a layer of cool indifference.

“We didn’t actually have sex, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” he bites out, turning and rounding to the next aisle.

Shit.

No one who Robin has personally seen tear a monster in half with his bare hands (feet?) has any right to look as much like a kicked puppy as Steve does, but he somehow manages it.

And the thing is, she knows how important that is to him – for someone to say the words out loud. She’s learned about his parents in bits and pieces; she even eventually got the full scoop on Nancy. She just– she worries. And when she worries, she says things before she really thinks them through.

Sighing, Robin walks around to the next aisle, finding Steve kneeling and paying entirely too much attention to the stacks of cases in front of him. When her slow approach isn’t rebuffed, she sinks down on the floor next to him, cross-legged with her back facing the shelf.

“I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot,” she says.

Steve shrugs.

“If it helps, it wasn’t directed at you,” Robin goes on. “I just– I really don’t have any reason to trust Eddie’s motives, and I don’t like it when you’re sad, and it’s my job as your best friend to look out for you and be mad at people on your behalf. Especially if you’re not going to be mad at them yourself.”

“Isn’t it also your job as my best friend to trust me and my judgment? And, like, support me when I’m doing something that’ll make me happy?” Steve asks quietly, a little dry.

“I guess,” Robin groans, leaning to the side so that her cheek is pillowed on the round of Steve’s shoulder. “But come on. If some girl made me cry, are you telling me you’d get over it in a snap?”

Robin can feel Steve tense beneath her for a moment, and she absolutely knows he’s thinking about lying to her.

“That’s different,” he finally says.

“It really isn’t, you big goddamn hypocrite.” Robin doesn’t bother to hide her smile, even as she smacks Steve on the back, ignoring the whiny ‘ow’ he gives her for it. “So tell me about the date.”

“Which one?” Steve asks.

“The first one. Must’ve been pretty good for you to agree to another,” Robin says.

“It… really was, actually.” Steve shifts carefully out of his crouch, giving Robin enough time to sit up before he settles onto the floor in front of her, back to the opposite shelf. “I mean, it was weird at first. He took me out to some random neighborhood and then we walked a little ways into the woods.”

“Creepy,” Robin says.

“A little bit, yeah.” Steve nods. “And then we came to this little, like, forgotten park? Had some playground equipment and a gazebo. And when we got there, he told me to turn around, so I couldn’t see what he was doing.”

“Creepier.” Robin wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah, but I was curious, so I did it.” Steve shrugs and Robin snorts at him. “But when he let me turn back around, he’d uh – he had a bunch of candles lit up all around the gazebo? It was… really nice. And he brought dinner – something he cooked. Like, with one of the recipes I taught him.”

Robin’s brows go up, reluctantly impressed. “Damn, alright, point to Munson, that was pretty good,” she admits.

“It was,” Steve says with this dumb, smitten little grin that Robin will absolutely tease him about later.

“Okay, okay, so he picked up on you being a romantic, that’s great, but,” Robin holds her hands out in front of herself in an emphatic sort of ‘here’s the thing’ gesture, “where was all of this before?”

“Right?” Steve bursts out, flinging his arms out in front of himself, narrowly avoiding knocking into one of Robin’s hands. “Thank you! I’m not crazy for wondering that!”

“Of course you’re not,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at him. “He didn’t tell you that you were, did he?”

“No, no, he– he didn’t.” Steve quickly shakes his head. “I just… I don’t know, I felt like I was being kind of unreasonable, I guess. Like, maybe for wanting any of that at all. Or wondering why he didn’t do it sooner.”

“You’re not,” Robin says again. “You deserve to get what you want, Steve.”

“Yeah, that’s what Eddie keeps saying.” Steve sighs, leaning his head back against the shelf.

“Well… good,” Robin says, a mildly reluctant concession. Maybe Eddie’s getting on the right page after all.

“He says he wants me to tell him when I need something,” Steve says. “Like… he wants me to talk to him.”

“What, about your feelings?” Robin asks, playfully wrinkling her nose. “Gross.”

“The worst,” Steve agrees drily, but he looks pleased, and a little thoughtful. Robin gives him the minute to think, before he says, “I did kind of blow up at him, though. Before that.”

“Good,” Robin laughs, nudging his knee with hers.

“It did sort of feel good,” Steve admits, glancing down through his lashes at Robin. “Just… to kinda get it all out.”

“What happened then?” Robin asks.

“Well, it’s – last night kind of went sideways,” Steve says. “It was supposed to be another date, but…”

“But…?”

“He just – when we were having dinner last weekend, he kept calling it our first date, and it was, but it also wasn’t? I kept thinking about what I thought was our first date.”

“Wait, was that the time in your car out by the quarry?”

Steve lifts his head up so he can shift the full brunt of his scrunched look of disapproval onto her. “No, hooking up in my car out by the quarry was not our first date. That didn’t happen until later.”

“Well it’s not like I have timestamps on these things, Steve!” Robin groans.

“It was that night at the diner,” Steve says, and Robin’s mouth falls into a little “oh” of recognition.

“The diner.” She nods.

It’s obvious in retrospect; Robin has heard everything about that night and then some, from the way Eddie had managed to get ketchup everywhere to “and he can do this thing with his tongue, even I didn’t know you could do that, but I’m gonna try and figure it out, it was so good–” (Robin had teasingly asked him if he’d need to practice on a peach or a banana, and he’d thrown a handful of balled-up receipts at her before deciding “both”).

“But he wanted me to tell him about it, so I did, and then last night, for our date, he took me to the diner,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows at Robin.

“What?” Robin’s eyebrows scrunch down in answer. “Did he think he just gets a do-over?”

“That’s what I asked!” Steve says, before subsiding a bit. “But I don’t… I really don’t think he thought that far ahead. I think he just wanted us both to have, like, some kind of special memory there.”

Robin hums, squinting at Steve skeptically.

“Anyway, I kinda yelled at him and I left, but then he actually came and found me,” Steve continues.

“Where did you go?” Robin asks.

“The lake.”

“Why were you all the way out there?”

Steve grimaces. “Mostly because I knew he doesn’t like going out there.”

Robin snorts, and Steve’s grimace shifts into a guilty sort of smile.

“But he came out there, anyway. And we talked, and– I really think he means it, Rob,” Steve says, looking at her like he needs her to believe it, too. Or at least like he needs her to believe him.

Robin sighs, letting her head fall back slowly, as if she’s deflating. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Munson is off death row. He can have a parole hearing.”

“I think you’re getting a little too into this whole execution metaphor,” Steve says.

“You’re both lucky I didn’t decide to make it literal,” Robin shoots back, and Steve laughs. “So, wait,” she looks back up, “you seriously haven’t had sex again? Since the whole…?”

“Oh my god, get this: he actually walked me to my door last weekend,” Steve says, halfway between incredulous and amused. “He didn’t even ask to come inside. Said the rule is to wait until the third date.”

“Oh, I bet you loved that,” Robin teases.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have said no if he had asked to come in,” Steve scoffs. “But I’m… kind of glad he didn’t. It was different.”

Robin smiles. “Different is promising,” she says, reaching out to pat Steve on the knee. “Now come on; we close in, like, half an hour and I don’t want to stay late cleaning.”

“Yeah, alright,” Steve agrees, hoisting himself off the floor before offering Robin a hand up.

“Also, you owe me dinner for all the secrecy,” Robin declares, heading back towards the front of the store with the intent of putting the counter back in order.

“What?” Steve groans. “I already spent, like, two weeks with literally no one to talk to about all of this. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

“Nope,” Robin says, and for all she can hear him grumbling, it only takes a minute before Steve is standing next to her again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Sap,” she mutters, putting arm around his waist and squeezing him back.

“And yet, who agreed to be my best friend?” Steve asks.

Robin sighs. “I did,” she says, and she doesn’t even have to look to know that Steve’s grin mirrors hers.

Part 11

Tag List (Currently full! Message me if you'd like off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#platonic stobin #stobin #steddie #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things #Robin and Steve have zero boundaries and they share a single brain cell #which they use to judge Eddie #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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in the emtts universe, do you think eddie and/or steve would watch movies in other languages with robin? like, my friend and i - she's french and i'm indian so she watches bollywood romances with me and i watch french romances with her every sunday :-)

First, that’s an adorable thing to do with your friend and I think it’s very sweet that you and your friend take a vested interest in each other’s culture.

I can see Steve and Eddie both watching films in foreign languages with Robin separately.

Like, Steve ends up watching a lot of foreign films with Robin by proxy.

Robin insists that the only want to keep a language is to be immersed in the culture and since there’s not a lot of culture in Hawkins that isn’t painfully Americana, she rents out the abysmally small foreign film section from Family Video constantly. Since Steve is with her a lot, he is also immersed in these cultures.

He complains but he also secretly loves it.

He loves how into the movies Robin gets. He loves how passionately she explains it to him. He loves trying to figure out the plots and how she lights up when he gets it right, but he loves it even more when he gets it wrong.

Robin likes a lot of arthouse films that don’t have linear timelines or that are meandering to the point of confusion so sometimes Steve misses the mark completely, but it’s okay. They’ve spent hours after a movie, telling two different stories about what they just watched and Robin never seems upset that Steve just didn’t get it.

Eddie ends up watching films in foreign languages with Robin out of necessity.

In like a ‘my world famous band is about to tour Europe and I just realized that I only speak English but you keep correcting how I do that so maybe I don’t keep English too good either’ kind of necessity to which Robin responded, “Jesus Christ.”

Eddie got a passport and then realized that Gareth took three years of French, Grant spoke fluent German with his grandmother all the time, and Jeff was passable with Spanish, and Eddie. Gee, Eddie was going to look like the biggest idiot on the planet – “Or, you’ll just look like an American.”

“That’s even worse!” Eddie despaired, draping himself across the counter of Family Video. “Help me, Robin-wan, you’re my only hope.”

Help to Robin was an English to Spanish dictionary and a bunch of study material, but help to Eddie was the Italian Giallo he picked up in Indianapolis last week because that was more fun. She sent Eddie off to Europe with an English to Spanish dictionary and a ‘good luck.’

It did not help.

#Robin listening to Eddie butcher Au Revoir at the airport: Oh…he’s doomed #Steve and Eddie double date with Nancy and Robin to a sign language course so they’re all semi-fluent in ASL #I got this ask like a month ago and I’m sorry it’s taken so long #I’m slowly getting myself back into the swing of things #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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tigertales9 · 7 months

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Hard Reset IV

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This fic covers the week 5 lead-up and win against the Cardinals.

Time/Place: Monday, Oct. 2, 2023 - Sunday, Oct. 8, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio & Glendale, Arizona

A/N: This is the fourth fic in the Hard Reset series.

Since we have a secret wedding coming up in the next chapter, I decided to use the bye week lakehouse idea from my Sink or Swim fic for the honeymoon location. I'll copy & paste the relevant bit here in case you haven't read it or to refresh your memory:

~ ~ This took place just before training camp in mid-July ~ ~

"Remember when we went to that party at the lake last summer? There was that cool lakehouse that we drove by a couple times when we got lost looking for the party?"

You furrow your brow as you try to think back, your face lighting up when the memory clicks into place. "The tall, narrow three-story house with the rooftop deck?"

"Yep," he grins, opening a tab on his computer and swiveling it to show you the screen. "It's called 'The Crows' Nest' and it's an Airbnb."

"No way." You lean closer for a better look. "It's even more awesome than I remember."

"I booked it for three nights during our bye week."

"Shut up!" you squeal, slapping Joe's arm as he looks simultaneously stoked and smug.

"I hope three nights is enough," he says nervously. "I thought about doing four, but . . ."

"Three nights is plenty," you interject. "If I remember correctly, it's about an hour and a half drive. We'll have an amazing getaway and be back in plenty of time for you to prep for the 49ers game the following week."

"I love that you already know my schedule."

"Front, back, side to side, Mr. Burrow," you purr, giving him a saucy wink.

~ ~ ~

All of that set-up is because the upcoming lakehouse honeymoon is mentioned in this chapter, so let's get to it . . .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Monday, 10/2/23

You wake up to an empty bed, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as you think about the toe-curling sex you had with your man the night before. You slip out of bed, checking the clock before heading into the bathroom to pee and wash your face.

You eventually walk down the hallway and check Joe's office before heading downstairs, a little surprised that he's nowhere to be found since it's still pretty early, your eyebrows rising when you see a note on the kitchen counter. You pick it up and read it out loud.

"Couldn't sleep so decided to head to the facility to get an early start on work-out - treatment - film. I'll be late getting home tonight since a group of us are watching MNF at Sam's. Love, Joe."

You toss the note down and get your coffee started, a little surprised he's skipping his standing video game session with his high school friends. They play almost every Monday for a few hours until Monday Night Football kicks off at 8:15 pm. Some weeks they play even longer, especially if the MNF match-up isn't very sexy. Usually the only reason he skips it during the season is if he's playing football on Monday (in which case they postpone it to Tuesday) or if he's in a stank mood because he played bad the day before.

Your mind flashes back to yesterday's 27-3 loss to the Titans. "Stank mood for sure," you mumble to yourself, yawning as you add a glug of creamer to your coffee before heading upstairs to your office.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Tuesday, 10/3/23

You wake up to an empty bed again, your brow furrowing as you go through your morning routine before heading down the hall to Joe's office, a smile curling your lips when you hear football noises coming from inside.

"Hey babe," you greet, dropping a kiss on his neck as he hits pause on the game film he's watching. "Hey," he echoes, swiveling his desk chair around to face you. "Sorry I got home so late last night."

"It's okay. Did y'all enjoy the game?" you ask, brushing your fingers through his messy hair a few times to try and tame his rampant bedhead.

"Not really," he grumbles. "We kinda half-ass watched it while talking about what we need to do to get better." He makes a pensive face before giving you a big grin. "Oh yeah, check this out," he says, grabbing his phone and pulling something up before handing it to you. The vid features Ja'Marr and Tee arm wrestling on Sam's kitchen island while several other guys holler encouragement. The vid cuts out just after Ja'Marr wins.

"Y'all got a little bored last night, huh?" you laugh, handing him his phone back.

"Well, it all started when Ja'Marr made a comment about Tee not being as fast as him, so Tee was like 'yeah, but I'm stronger' so of course they had to arm wrestle."

"Of course," you agree. "Was Tee mad when Ja'Marr beat him?"

"A little," Joe shrugs, "but then he was like 'whatever, at least my dick's bigger'."

"Please tell me there's not a dick measuring vid," you mutter.

He gives you a cheeky wink before scrolling his phone like he's looking for said vid.

"Joseph!" you swat his arm. "I don't want to see it!"

He laughs at your scandalized expression before setting his phone on his desk. "Relax, babe, there's no dick measuring vid. At least not on my phone."

"Y'all are too much," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. "Everything's a damn competition."

"Wanna know who won?" he asks.

"No!" you chirp, sticking your tongue out when he chortles at your obvious discomfort. "You want some breakfast?" you ask, changing the subject before he decides to give you the unwanted dick report.

"Nah, I'll just grab something at the facility." He checks the time before wrinkling his nose. "I better get going. Lot of stuff to do today."

You lean down and give him a kiss before heading for the door. "I'm gonna get a shower. Have a good day."

"You too," he says, giving you a smile before turning his attention back to his computer.

~ ~ ~

You head downstairs about thirty minutes later, narrowing your eyes as you see another note on the kitchen counter; you snatch it up and read it.

"I'll prob be late again tonight since we're talking about new offensive schemes (thank fuck!) Lots of film to watch & I'll just grab dinner at the facility with the guys. Call me if you need me. Love, Joe."

"Could have told me that to my face," you grump, chewing on your lip and trying not to get too aggravated; he always spends extra time at the facility when shit's going sideways, so this is nothing new. It feels a little weird, though. Like he's avoiding you for some reason. "Don't overthink it," you warn yourself. "He's struggling and trying to figure his shit out. Don't make it about you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Wednesday, 10/4/23

"Okay, fuck this," you mutter as you once again wake up to an empty bed. You heard him come in last night but pretended to be asleep since you were tired, aggravated and didn't feel like talking, but you def feel like talking now.

You snatch your phone off the bedside table and hurry down the hall to make sure he's not in his office before heading downstairs, your eyes rolling when you spot another damn note on the counter; you heave a sigh as you start to read.

"Sorry I got home late again. Big day today installing the new offense! I'm feeling optimistic for a change. Hate to say it, but I'll be late again. Going to Sam's tonight for pizza and film watching. Love, Joe."

"Shit," you grumble as you set your phone on the kitchen counter. "Can't unleash hell on Mr. Feeling Optimistic," you mutter under your breath, trying and failing to push aside the uneasy feeling the situation's giving you. You roll your shoulders as you wait for your coffee to brew. "He hasn't technically done anything wrong," you state, still trying to convince yourself. "The last thing I want to do is make him feel bad for doing his job."

~ ~ ~

You spend the next several hours doing your (mostly) normal routine:

a harder than normal work-out to relieve some stress

a couple hours of work followed by a virtual meeting to tie up some loose ends on a work project

a few chores and then some errands including a final stop to grab some Kung Pao chicken from your fav family-owned restaurant before heading home

You change into slinky shorts and a t-shirt as soon as you get home before pouring a glass of wine and tucking into your spicy dinner.

An hour later you're tidying up the kitchen when your phone rings; your brow furrows as you check the display before answering. "Hey Sam. What's up?"

"Is Joe there?"

"No. I thought he was eating pizza and watching film tonight at your place."

"Umm, yeah, I left the gym a few minutes before him and we were supposed to meet at my house, but I got a low air pressure warning on one of my tires and stopped to air it up. First place I stopped was out of service so I had to go to another gas station. Took almost thirty extra minutes and when I got home he wasn't there. I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. I waited an hour and tried calling again but the same thing happened."

"That's weird," you mutter, your pulse immediately picking up. "Hopefully he didn't have a wreck or something."

"Oh, I'm sure it's not that," Sam mumbles.

"Well, let me know if you hear from him."

"Okay, you too."

You end the call and immediately try Joe's phone, a knot forming in your stomach when it goes straight to voicemail. You open your fav traffic app and chew on your lip as you look for accidents in the area he was traveling. "Nothing," you mutter, feeling slightly better until another hour passes without hearing from him.

You try his phone again, your heart thudding in your chest when it goes straight to voicemail. "Where are you?" you whisper, pacing back and forth as you try to decide what to do.

You wait thirty more minutes and are just about to call the nearest emergency room -- after Sam texts you asking if you've heard from Joe yet -- when you hear the garage door open, a flood of relief washing over you when he ambles in the door looking slightly disheveled. The odd look on his face makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up; you decide to play it cool.

"Hey," you say, giving him a smile. "How was practice? Did y'all install the new offense?"

"Yeah. Still have a lot of work to do, but I think we're headed in the right direction."

"Good." Your eyes drop down to his long fingers fiddling with his wristbands before you recapture his gaze. "How was the pizza at Sam's?"

"Fine," he shrugs, looking at his feet. "Nothing special."

You feel a wave of nausea hit at his obvious lie. Please let me hold down this Kung Pao, you think to yourself before speaking. "Sam called me several hours ago asking if I knew where you were. He had to stop and air up a tire, and you weren't at his house when he got there. He tried calling you but your phone was off." The color drains from his face as you continue. "Then he texted me a few minutes ago asking if I ever heard from you, so I know you haven't been with him."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other but doesn't speak.

"You wanna tell me why you just lied to my face?"

"It's not what you think," he mutters, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard.

The action draws your gaze down to his throat for a few seconds before it shifts back up to his face; you become very aware of his facial hair, a thought flashing through your mind that it's a damn shame you're mad at him since you love to feel his scruff against your skin.

A darker thought creeps into your head when you consider the fact that he just lied to you about being with Sam. Is someone else enjoying the feel of that scruff? you muse to yourself, your stomach turning at the thought of him cheating on you.

You spin around and sprint down the hallway, barely making it to the guest bathroom in time to slam the door and fling the toilet seat up before emptying the contents of your stomach into the bowl. You spit a few times as you gasp for breath, eventually flushing the toilet and walking on trembling legs to the sink to rinse your mouth a few times and splash water on your flushed face. You pat dry with a hand towel and open the door, rushing forward two steps before crashing into a large, immovable object. Joe wraps his hands around your upper arms to steady you, his expression hard to read as you wrench yourself out of his grasp and step back.

He heaves a sigh before speaking. "We were supposed to meet at Sam's, but when he didn't show up for like twenty minutes I decided to take a drive to clear my head. I couldn't get my thoughts to stop racing," he continues with a shrug. "Thinking about how bad I've been playing, wondering if the new offensive scheme will help. I just needed a distraction."

"What's her name?" you snap.

"Huh?"

"The distraction. What's her name?"

"It's not like that," he soothes, reaching for you as you step farther out of reach.

"Then how is it?" you challenge. "You were out of contact for several hours with your phone turned off. That's not just a drive to clear your fucking head!"

He hesitates for a second and you spin around and stride for the stairs, launching yourself up them two at a time before heading through the master bedroom and into the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth before hurrying into your walk-in closet.

You wrangle a suitcase into the middle of the closet floor and start flinging clothes inside with the same vigor that Joe uses when spiking a football after scoring a tuddy. You punctuate each motion with a curse word, your entire body shaking.

Eventually you become aware of the fact that he's standing in the doorway watching you; you give him a glare before continuing to pack.

"This is just a huge misunderstanding," he states, fiddling with his wristbands like his life depends on it.

"Obvs," you sneer. "I clearly misunderstood the nature of this relationship. Who could blame me, though?" you ask, plowing ahead before he has a chance to interject. "You've never given me a reason not to trust you. Plus you've been oh so vulnerable with me lately -- worried I'm gonna leave you, desperate to hurry up and get secretly married to put your mind at ease." You swallow hard around the lump in your throat, grateful that you're too stunned to cry. If I start crying, I may never stop, you think to yourself.

You stop packing long enough to lock eyes with him. "Meanwhile you're out doing God knows what with God knows who and lying straight to my face about it."

"I can explain everything," he urges. "I'm just trying not to spoil a surprise I set up for you."

"Surprise! I'm a lying asshole!" you chirp, giving a derisive snort before a petty idea hits you. If he wants to watch me pack, let's give him something to see. You walk deeper into the closet and start easing short, slinky cocktail dresses off of their padded hangers, folding them delicately before laying them almost reverently in your suitcase. You pull open a few drawers on your lingerie chest and scoop out copious handfuls of lacy, barely-there wisps of fabric in the form of bras, panties, teddys, thigh-high stockings and a few other naughty confections, smirking at his worried expression as you place the items in your suitcase.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Where have you been?" you counter, crossing your arms in a defensive posture, your substantial engagement ring catching your eye when the overhead light glints off of it. "Oh … here … you can have this back," you mumble, sliding the ring off and handing it to him.

"What? No way!" he sputters, gently pushing your hand back toward you. "Jesus, I've fucked this up so bad it's not even funny," he grits out. "I seem to fuck everything up these days."

"Don't play the victim."

He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling for several seconds before looking at you. "Will you please put your ring back on? I promise I'm about to tell you everything you want to know, but I can't think straight when you're not wearing your ring."

Something in his tone -- a pleading vibe -- makes you do as he asks.

"Thank you," he rasps, clearing his throat before holding a hand out to you. "Let's go sit down and I'll explain everything."

You stare at his hand for several seconds before placing your hand in it, your eyebrows climbing upward when he lets out the breath he was holding. He's shook, you think to yourself, hoping he has a damn good explanation for lying to you.

He leads you to the sitting area in your bedroom, gesturing for you to sit in one armchair before dropping into the other, his fingers immediately fiddling with his wristbands as he starts to speak.

"Okay … so … you know the lakehouse we're going to during bye week?"

"Yeah," you answer, your mind conjuring up an image of the cool, modern three-story house that you've been looking forward to staying in ever since Joe booked it back before training camp started. Back then it was just going to be a quick getaway during bye week, but it's morphed into your (first) honeymoon destination since y'all are getting secretly married just before you leave for the lake.

"Remember when I showed you the pics on the Airbnb site and you said -- if you were doing the decorating -- you'd arrange the furniture different in the master bedroom?"

"Yeah," you answer, thinking about the master suite that takes up the entire top floor of the house; one of its coolest features is an oversized skylight situated just above a sitting area. You mentioned it would be cooler to position the bed under the skylight so you could look up at the night sky while lying in bed.

"Well, I got in touch with the homeowner, Mr. Thompson, and asked him if I could switch the sitting area and bed for our stay." Your eyes go wide as he continues. "I told him I'd handle it, I just needed someone to let me and Sam in."

"We're not going for two more weeks, though," you mumble suspiciously.

"True," he agrees, "and I figured I'd go Monday the 16th -- the day before we arrive for our stay -- but Mr. Thompson said I could go anytime since no one else is staying there between now and then."

"That's … interesting."

"Mmm-hmm. So Mr. Thompson gave me the caretaker's number so I could set up a time for me and Sam to move the furniture."

If this is a lie, it's elaborate as fuck, you think to yourself as Joe continues.

"Max, the caretaker, agreed to meet me today. It's about an hour and a half drive, and I had just enough time to get there when I said I'd be there, so I left without Sam."

"Did you try calling Sam before you left?"

"No. To be honest I was a little aggravated." He shrugs before continuing. "He knew I was antsy to get on the road, and I felt like he was drag-assing."

"So you turned your phone off to teach him a lesson?"

"Maybe," he grins, having the decency to look a little sheepish about it.

"QB1 behavior," you mutter. "By the way, you better send him a quick text to let him know you're alive."

He does your bidding, and your gaze is drawn to his sexy hands as he types the text; you squeeze your eyes shut as a thought hits you. "Since Sam didn't go, who helped you move the furniture?"

"Max plus a couple of guys he brought with him. That king-sized bed is heavy as fuck so I was grateful he brought some extra muscle." He sees your skeptical expression and starts scrolling through his phone. "I'll show you the texts where we set it up," he offers, turning his phone where you can read it. "Here's the text from Mr. Thompson giving me Max's number. -- And here's where I texted Max to set up a time to meet. -- And here's his reply …"

You feel a flood of relief as you read the texts, your eyes meeting Joe's over the top of the phone for a split second before you break down crying; you drop your head into your hands as the sobs escalate, his concerned voice seemingly coming from a great distance even though his mouth is close to your ear.

"I can have Max send me footage from the security cams," he states. "The entire outer perimeter is covered so you'll be able to see me drive up and meet him and the other guys."

"That's not necessary," you wheeze, trying hard to draw breath and stem the steady flow of tears. "I believe you."

"Then why are you crying?" he asks, a slight tremble in his voice giving away his raw emotional state.

"Because I'm so relieved," you sniff, wiping your eyes before meeting his gaze. "I thought you were cheating on meeeee," you wail, your voice trailing off into sobs again as he stands up and scoops you up bridal-style; he drops into your chair with you sitting crossways in his lap, his deep voice like a balm to your frazzled nerves as he does his best to soothe you.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers. "I would never cheat on you, okay? I was trying to set up a fun surprise for you, but I'm too much of a dumbass to get it right."

"You're not a dumbass," you sniffle, smiling as he wipes your tears away before dropping a kiss on each of your flushed cheeks. "It's not your fault that one of Sam's tires needed air."

"Yeah, this is all Sam's fault, the fucker," he grumbles, laughing along with you for a minute before turning serious. "You're shaking really bad," he states, running his hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?"

"A little, but I think it's mostly a st…stress reaction," you stammer."

"Shit," he sighs. "I can't believe I did this to you."

"It's okay," you whisper. "You didn't mean to."

He drops a kiss on your forehead before standing up and setting you back in the chair, quickly grabbing a plush throw blanket off the foot of the bed and tucking it around you. "Sit tight for a sec. I'm gonna run a hot bath."

You nod your head as he turns and heads toward the bathroom, taking several slow, deep breaths to try and relax before he reappears. "Bath's ready," he states, gently pulling the blanket off of you before picking you up to carry you to the bathroom.

Five minutes later you're both immersed in the oversized tub, with him behind you and your back leaning against his chest. He runs his big hands up and down your arms, trying to chase away the chill bumps as you flutter your eyes closed and try to relax.

You spend the next fifteen minutes enjoying the feel of him rubbing your arms, your shoulders, and your thighs. "That feels good," you groan, the tension leaving your body with every stroke of his talented hands.

"Good." He drops a kiss on your neck. "Just relax."

"Sorry your surprise got ruined," you sigh, leaning your head to the side as he drops another kiss on your neck. "I think it's super sweet you went to so much trouble to surprise me," you continue, reaching a hand down to squeeze one of his thighs. "Can't wait to sleep with you under that huge skylight."

"It's gonna be amazing," he murmurs, his hot breath and scruff against your ear causing a shiver to run through you. "Still cold?" he asks. "No," you whisper, maneuvering around until you're facing him. His gaze is drawn down to your bare breasts just visible above the water. "You sure you're not cold?" he asks again. "You're chill bumpy, shivery, and … this," he breathes, ghosting his hot, wet fingers over your hard nipples, his eyes meeting yours when you give a soft moan and lean into his touch. "I'm the opposite of cold," you admit, gasping when he wraps his hands around your waist and slides you onto his lap, his mouth immediately capturing yours in a slow-burn kiss. His tongue tangles with yours for several minutes before he pulls back. "Let's go to bed," he orders, helping you out of the tub before stepping out behind you.

You quickly dry off and head into the bedroom, folding the covers down to the foot of the bed as your entire body hums with anticipation. "Y/n?" Joe calls from the bathroom. "Come here, please."

You walk back in the bathroom, an inquisitive look on your face as he gestures toward the open closet door; you turn your head to see what he's pointing at, a hot flush rising in your cheeks at the sight of your suitcase overflowing with lingerie. The sound of his voice pulls your attention back to him.

"Who were you gonna wear all that stuff for?" he asks, the edge in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

"Nobody," you shrug, closing the distance between you and tilting your head up to look at him. "I thought you were cheating on me so I decided to make you a little jealous."

"A little jealous?" he snorts. "Just the thought of another man looking at you makes me insanely jealous." He wraps his hands around your waist as he continues. "The thought of another man touching you makes me homicidal."

"You threatening to kill me?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I'm threatening to kill him," he states matter-of-factly.

"You have nothing to worry about as long as you don't cheat on me."

"Promise?" he asks, the hint of vulnerability in his tone a complete contrast to the possessive anger of a few seconds ago. You wrap a hand behind his nape and pull him down until his face is about an inch from yours. "I promise," you whisper, pressing a kiss on his full lips. "You're the only man I want."

He pulls back and stares down at you, his demeanor shifting from vulnerable back to possessive. Provocative. You lick your lips as his hands tighten on your waist, opening your mouth to speak just as his mouth crashes down on yours. The kiss is intense, no teasing just taking, his need to possess you crystal clear as he slides his hands down to your ass and lifts you up, carrying you to bed while stating his intentions.

"I'm gonna lick you until you beg for my cock," he growls, the vibration of his deep voice in your ear causing a flood of liquid heat in your core. "Then I'm gonna fuck you senseless."

You're so drunk with lust that you can't form a coherent response. Instead you shove a hand in his hair as he eases you onto the bed, his eyes capturing yours for a few breathless seconds before he maneuvers his way down your body to make good on his carnal promise.

The next hour passes by like a fever dream, with him devouring you with a ferocity that has your body responding in kind, meeting his intense need with your own as you lose yourself in the feel of his hands and mouth on you, the hot velvet caress of his tongue bringing you to climax twice before he sinks his thick cock inside your tight heat. He rides you hard as he nips and sucks your neck and breasts, leaving love bites as you rake your fingernails up his muscular back, his first climax hitting just before your third.

He eventually pulls out and rolls off of you with a primal groan, your mutual heavy breathing the only sound for the next several minutes before you turn your head and give him a smile. "That was amazing," you pant, your eyes going wide as he rolls you onto your stomach.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he purrs in your ear, crawling between your spread thighs and biting the nape of your neck as he enters you from behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Thursday, 10/5/23

You wake up before Joe the next morning, stretching your deliciously sore, nude body beneath the slinky sheets before turning to look at him; he's sleeping peacefully, his pretty pink lips showing a hint of a smile as if he's enjoying a nice dream.

Last night felt like a dream, you think to yourself as you ease out of bed and head to the bathroom. The stomach-turning angst when you thought he was cheating, followed by intense relief and mind-blowing sex, was enough to give you an insane case of emotional whiplash.

"Crazy shit," you mumble to yourself, shaking your head at your reflection before turning on the faucet to wash your face.

You're patting your face dry when Joe walks in, giving you a smile before yawning and raking his long fingers through his messy hair. "Good morning, gorgeous," he greets as he walks up behind you, leaning down to press a kiss on your shoulder before meeting your eyes in the mirror.

"Good morning, gorgeous," you echo, biting your lip as the heat radiating off of his nude body causes your core to contract. Jesus, I'll never get enough of him, you think to yourself. "I'm gonna have to wear a turtleneck for my virtual meeting today," you state, pointing at the mark on your neck.

"Did I get a little overzealous marking my territory last night?" he asks, dropping a kiss on the love bite, the tip of his tongue darting out to give it a quick lick.

"Just the right amount of zealous," you giggle, watching his expression in the mirror as he notices the marks on your breasts.

"Do they hurt?" he murmurs, sliding his fingertips over the love bites plus the rug burn caused by his scruff.

"No," you breathe. "They just feel a little warm and tingly."

"That's good."

"Mmm-hmm," you hum, mesmerized by the sight of his big, strong hands delicately caressing your breasts, a gasp escaping your lips when he ghosts his fingertips over your hard nipples.

"Are you sore?" he asks, his voice husky with arousal as he slides a hand down to cup your mound, his erection thickening and lengthening against you.

"A little," you admit, "but it's a good kind of sore."

"Stop me if it's too much, okay?"

"Okay."

You both watch in the mirror as he dips one long finger inside your slick heat before pulling it back out, spreading the moisture over your sensitive folds as you grind back against him; he repeats the sensual action several times, his eyes dark with arousal as you bend over and press your forearms against the marble counter, rising up onto your tiptoes as he continues to tease you.

You arch your back in invitation as he lazily circles your swollen clit with slippery fingers. "I need you inside me," you whisper, your pulse picking up as he grabs his erection with his free hand and nestles the tip against your entrance; he meets your eyes in the mirror before slowly pushing inside, hissing in pleasure as your walls clench around him.

"I'll never get enough of you," he growls as he starts to thrust.

~ ~ ~

An hour and a half later -- after a couple of orgasms, a shared shower and a quick breakfast -- you give him a kiss before he heads for the door.

"I'll be home for dinner," he calls over his shoulder.

Your mouth drops open in exaggerated surprise. "No way!" you tease. "I was starting to think we'd never have dinner together again."

He spins around and walks back to you, cradling your face in his hands before speaking. "I know I've been gone a lot this week, but trying to figure shit out plus installing the new offense has been pretty intense."

"Not to mention sneaking off to upgrade our secret honeymoon love nest."

"That too," he chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips. "I can't wait for the bye week."

"Me neither," you purr, giving his plump butt a squeeze before he heads for the door.

~ ~ ~

Later that night -- after dinner, a couple episodes of Forensic Files, and some less-intense-but-no-less-satisfying sex -- y'all are lying in bed talking about the upcoming game in Arizona.

"If we lose," Joe says, making a face at the awful thought. "I only want to see you in the family & friends area after the game. My parents can wait for you outside, then y'all can ride to the airport together."

"Can't do that, babe."

"Why not?"

"Because your mom will get her feelings hurt. She's already a little upset that you're not meeting us after losses, but if you meet me and not them, she's gonna be seriously upset."

"Then she shouldn't be so extra with the praise every time I lose. It's fucking annoying."

"You're her baby," you soothe, pressing a kiss on his pouty lips. "She's always gonna try to make you feel better."

"If I play like shit, I don't want to feel better."

You sigh at the grumpy look on his pretty face. "Tell you what. If she starts in on the praise, I'll step in and gently shut it down."

"Really?" he asks, giving you a skeptical look.

"Really," you answer. "I'll just steer the convo in a different direction. I've done it a few times with her, and it's worked pretty well."

"You do have the magic touch when it comes to handling her like that. You're way better than me at it."

"Because I use a little finesse instead of coming at her like a wrecking ball," you tease.

"I have no patience for finesse when I'm pissed off."

"I know," you chuckle. "That's what you have me for."

He rolls onto his side and pulls you against him, your back to his chest. "We make a good team," he states, dropping a kiss on your shoulder.

"The best," you agree.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sunday, 10/8/23

You stand against the wall in the large room designated for family & friends of the visiting team at State Farm stadium in Glendale, Arizona, the thrill of victory putting a huge smile on your face as you wait for Joe to appear.

The game had been the Joe & Ja'Marr show, with Joe throwing for 317 yards, and Ja'Marr catching 15 passes for 192 yards and 3 touchdowns. The almost-telepathic connection between the two of them was on full display as they led the Bengals to a 34-20 win over the Cardinals.

An excited buzz flows through the room as Joe walks in; he ignores the attention as he quickly strides up to you. "Hey," he greets you, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before pulling you into a tight hug. "Hey," you breathe against his sweaty neck, tempted to lick him but restraining yourself due to the crowd of people watching you, including his parents.

There's a wicked grin on his face when he steps back, like he read your mind. Speaking of telepathic, you think to yourself, giving him a discreet wink as his parents step forward to greet him.

A minute later he turns his attention back to you, leaning down to press his lips close to your ear. "See you at home," he whispers, the four words so full of heat that you feel a blush rise in your cheeks as he turns and heads for the door.

~ ~ ~

A little while later, as you're sitting in the airport waiting to catch your flight home, your phone rings. Your pulse picks up when you see who's calling.

"Hey gorgeous," you greet.

"Hey gorgeous," Joe responds. "Are my parents right there?"

"No. They went to find a bathroom before we board."

"You need to get some sleep on the plane," he says, his voice dropping an octave like it always does when he's thinking naughty thoughts. "I've got plans for you when I get home."

"Can't wait," you purr before a thought hits you. "Your parents are spending the night, so we'll have to be somewhat quiet."

"So we'll have mind-blowing, hair-pulling, screaming-orgasm sex minus the screaming."

"Sounds good," you whisper, your eyes going wide when you see Joe's parents headed your way. "Your parents are back."

"I can't wait to see you."

"Me too," you mutter, smiling at Robin as she sits beside you.

"Can't wait to get you naked," Joe growls. "I'm gonna …"

You loudly clear your throat when you notice Robin looking at you. "I better go; we're about to start boarding."

Joe's dirty chuckle brings a hot blush to your cheeks. "Love you, babe," he states.

"Love you, too," you whisper before ending the call.

"You look a little flushed," Robin says, pressing a hand against your forehead. "Do you think you're coming down with something?"

Just the hots for your sex god son, you think to yourself, giving her a smile before answering. "I feel fine. I think the excitement of the win is just now catching up with me."

"That's probably it," she agrees. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

"Definitely."

"Speaking of that," she continues. "Since we're getting back so late, let's push brunch tomorrow back a couple hours. That way you kids can get plenty of sleep. Does that sound good?"

"Yes, ma'am," you agree. "I know Joe is gonna be super tired when he gets home."

"For sure," she nods. "He'll be so tired he can barely walk."

He'll be even more tired when I get through with him, you think to yourself, standing up and grabbing your bag when they call your flight.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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sargeantposting · 2 months

Text

A little earlier in the F2 season, we caught up with Williams Racing Academy Driver Logan Sargeant.

Wanting to get to know him just a little bit better, and with a big date in Austin now on the horizon, we tasked him with answering 22 questions about racing and life in general.

Here’s what he had to say…

What race day rituals do you have?

If weekends are going well, I tend to stick with the same underwear for each day. Before you worry, they’re different pairs! I have a Friday, Saturday, Sunday set. But if it’s not going well, I have to make a change!

What's your go-to coffee order?

Latte, but it's a double espresso before quali.

What's the inspiration behind your racing number?

This year it’s six because I can’t choose in F2, but when I am allowed to pick, it would be No3. Three for Dale Earnhardt, an all-out American hero.

Your favourite drink?

I’ve only just turned 21… but it’s water, of course.

If you had to cook one main course to impress a loved one, what would it be?

Oooo… I’m not much of a cook, but I can tell you what I would order in! I love a good prime rib.

What’s your favourite film?

Love the Jump Streets, but I’ve got a lot of time for Step Brothers. But if I had to choose out of the two, I’d go Jump Streets. I suppose I have to choose which one?! But 21 and 22 are both pretty good. Ah, I can’t decide.

Who is the toughest rival you've come up against so far?

It’s got to be the battle in Formula 3 between myself and Oscar Piastri.

Your favourite cheat meal?

Fortunately I have a quick metabolism, so they come relatively often… my American roots mean it would have to be a nice, juicy burger.

How many attempts did it take to pass your driving test?

Just one, which is apparently pretty rare for racing drivers! That’s including the practical and the theory.

Which track are you most looking forward to in 2022?

It’s got to be Monaco, but I’m looking forward to seeing the F1 team in Miami.

You can choose one song only to listen to before a race, what is it?

Lose Yourself - Eminem.

Is there one circuit not on your calendar that you'd love to race at?

Obviously it’s either Miami or Austin; to have a home race would be amazing. That said, I’d love to race at Suzuka some day.

Who is your favourite sports team outside of F1?

Anything Miami! We’re talking Heat, Dolphins, Marlins, Inter Miami… they’ve all got my support.

Least favourite exercise your trainer set for you in the offseason?

I’d say it’s got to be all the extra cardio I had to do to get ready for F2.

What's a better feeling, nailing a quali lap or executing a late overtake?

I saw what Nicky and Alex said to this answer and I have to agree. Nailing a quali lap all day long. It’s my favourite part of a weekend, I love putting it all on the line.

Is there anyone you idolised when growing up?

In racing, my first hero when I was a kid was, funnily enough, Jeff Gordon. I just loved watching him and the way he fought on track.

Favourite sport that's not F1?

At the moment, I’d have to say NFL. But it switches between that and the NBA.

If you could invite anyone in the world to a dinner party, which three people would you choose and why?

I would invite Leo DiCaprio, I feel he’s kind of cool. Then let’s also invite Margot Robbie and Brad Pitt. Let’s make it an A-List movie night!

What is your favourite Grand Prix?

Well, I could be biased and say Austin. I mean, how can you argue against 450,000 fans across the three days last year? That was pretty awesome. But I’ve got to say I love Silverstone as well.

What's been your favourite moment of your career so far?

My rookie race in Macau where I finished third. Definitely, 100%, hands down my favourite track in the world.

One word to describe how you're feeling about the 2022 season?

Confident.

One word that best describes Williams Racing to you?

Supportive.

#logan sargeant #format:clips #year:2022

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

sooo excited requests are open again! Jamie gets a day off from training and you spend the whole day together cuddling and snogging and watching films

Done😎 Gonna hit you all with some angst pretty soon, so enjoy this angst-free fic while you can! Thanks for the request!

(p.s. this gif makes me giggle. idk why)

tell me where to put my love

There is absolutely nothing like a Sunday morning, because it means that Jamie has absolutely no training. Saturdays are subject to extra time with Roy, so you and Jamie only get one day a week with absolutely no football. Well, not absolutely no football. Sometimes you let him cajole you into going to the Richmond Green and kicking around one of the ten billion footballs he has in the house.

He says you’ve gotten better since you’ve started, you say that you could take on all of Richmond and win.

He says you’re very funny.

You say so too.

Sundays are great because you get to sleep in, but you probably don’t. You’re both so used to being awake early so despite being up late, you’re both unable to sleep past 7:30, maybe 8 if you’re really tired.

You don’t get out of bed, though.

The first one to wake will lie as still as possible, looking at the rise and fall of the other’s chest. Usually it’s Jamie watching you. You’re a light sleeper, so you begin to stir at the slightest change in atmosphere. He’ll stroke your cheek and you’ll smile and stretch, refusing to open your eyes.

His hands will start to slide down to your arms and to your waist, then dip below your pajama bottoms. You’ll open your eyes at that, because he’ll soon shift so that his head is at your waist, and lift his baby blue eyes to yours in a question.

This Sunday is no different, and you both end up staying in bed until 10. It’s not until you’re lying tangled in the sheets, sweaty and gasping for breath, that a stomach growls (yours, his, what’s the difference) and you each throw on as little clothes as possible and head to the kitchen. Jamie pulls things out for his morning smoothie and you’re toasting frozen waffles. Neither of you are saying much, except for a “hey!” from Jamie when you steal some of his strawberries.

You take your respective breakfasts to the couch and settle under a blanket. It gets cold when you’re only wearing pants.

“What are we gonna watch?” you ask.

Jamie just grins and flips through your streaming services.

“No, babe,” you groan, “not again. Please, I beg of you.”

Jamie pretends he can’t hear you and lands on Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

“Jamie,” you say as he chooses an episode, “why are you so obsessed with reality tv? It’s so unrealistic.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t fucking love it,” he replies, lightly knocking his head against yours. You roll your eyes and suppress a smile. You can’t argue with that.

You stay on the couch for three hours until Jamie starts to get bored and starts kissing a line up your neck. You giggle and shift away.

“Babe,” he says between kisses, “you hungry?”

“That is not where I thought this was going,” you laugh.

Jamie shrugs, lips still against your throat. “Trying to make up for making you watch fucking American reality television. And I want takeout.”

At that, you turn and capture his lips in yours. He’s not supposed to have takeout right now, not part of his eating plan. He’s trying to butter you up so you won’t talk him out of it. Lucky for him, he’s making a very convincing argument.

An hour later, you’re in the backyard on the patio eating Chinese food. You’re both in more clothes and soaking up the rare bit of sun. Jamie has also produced chips, and you’re not sure why they go so well with Chinese, but they do.

You’re finishing up the last box and chatting about Jamie’s upcoming match when there’s a knock on the door. You both freeze. You’re not expecting anyone, and you exchange an assessing look to see who is most presentable to answer the door.

It turns out to be Jamie, so he pads inside and opens it to find Dani.

“Eyy, muchacho! Nice to have a day off, no? I was feeling a little bit lonely, so I decided to drop by to see if you would like to play some FIFA. And I did not come empty handed!” Dani holds up a bag of Mexican food.

“Can’t,” Jamie says. “Girlfriend’s here.”

Dani’s face droops a little bit and, as if on cue, you appear behind Jamie, all wrapped up in a blanket.

“Hi Dani!” you say. “Heard your voice from the backyard. What’re you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Just lonely, I guess.“

He looks so hilariously forlorn that you laugh and Jamie rolls his eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask. “Ooh, is that Mexican?”

Fifteen minutes later, Dani is explaining hair masks to a fascinated Jamie, as you sip your drinks and eat the food Dani brought. Neither you nor Jamie care to tell him you had just eaten.

He stays for two hours, crushing Jamie at FIFA. After the door shuts behind him, Jamie looks at you and says, “shower?”

You and Jamie stay in for way too long, only coming out when your hands are far too pruny. The bathroom is all steamy, and Jamie’s towel is wrapped low around his hips. You end up back on the bed, laying on top of the sheets in your towels. His arm is around you, thumb rubbing up and down your arm. Your head is tucked in the crook of his neck, and you’re breathing in his clean scent slowly. He’s talking in a low voice, not about anything really, just chattering about football, his mum, and the future. You’re trying to stay awake, you really are, and there’s no reason you should be tired and yet your eyes are growing heavy. It’s not your fault that his voice is so calm and so soothing, and before you know it you’re asleep.

You don’t see this part, but Jamie notices the change in your breathing and starts whispering about other things. How much he loves you, and why he loves you. His real hopes for the future, the ones he’s not sure you’re ready to hear, but thinks one day you will be. He’ll let you sleep as long as possible. These times are rare, and he is going to savor every moment.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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kiwiana-writes · 3 months

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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Don't forget, Fandom Trumps Hate bidding opens 8am EST on March 5th! Details of my offerings are here, and a roundup of all the RWRB offers can be found here.

Remember a couple days ago when I said thanks to the people who tagged me in the WIP ask game but my list had just hit 62 and I couldn't be bothered writing them all out? Well, welcome to #62. I watched a film, realised how many fics I've read based on it across a ton of fandoms in the last couple of decades, entered some sort of weird fugue state, and then there was a Google Doc open. As usual.

2019 Outside Kensington Palace, with the car waiting to take him back to the royals’ private airstrip, Alex seriously considers taking Henry’s phone out of his hand and plugging in his phone number. It’s the same tug in his gut that led him across a Buckingham Palace ballroom to poke and prod at Henry’s perfect princely veneer; the one that dragged him across the room to introduce himself at Rio; the one that used to pull him out of his bedroom and into June’s to open a magazine. But that’s not what’s happening here. They’re not friends, even if Alex did see a glimmer of something resembling a personality while lying elbow to elbow with Henry on the dusty floor of a cupboard. It’s a PR stunt, nothing more, and they both have people who are literally employed to make sure they both come out of this looking good. No point in complicating it. In the end, Alex only reaches out when it’s time to shake Henry’s hand in farewell, and then he climbs into the back of the car and ignores the nagging sensation of something left unfinished. 2029 Alex rolls out the crick in his neck as he steps off the plane in Austin, his shoulders relaxing with every step into the familiar terminal. A couple of months into his second congressional term, he’s only just starting to feel like he really has a handle on the House schedule and the punishing weekly commute back and forth between Texas and DC—but just because he doesn’t have a spouse and kids to come home to like many of his colleagues on the Hill, it doesn’t mean he’s not still spending as much time in his district as he possibly can. Even if it does mean he has an even heavier reliance on caffeine than he did during college and more frequent flyer miles than he’ll ever know what to do with.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #fic: chemistry without a recipe

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sexhaver · 3 months

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me n bailey marathoned the first season of this show over the last few days. some thoughts:

Alan Cumming, specifically his accent and wardrobe, are by far the highlights of this show. i sincerely hope someone has made an edit compiling all of his outfits without any of the actual gameplay, because he is consistently serving cunt

like just look at this

that being said i did keep seeing him as Fegan Floop from Spy Kids

oh right there's an actual game/competition component to this

im just gonna get this out of the way: the entire premise of the show is fundamentally flawed. they keep trying to make it sound like the three Traitors in the group are "backstabbing" and "working against" the Faithful (non-Traitors), but, like, everyone on the show (Traitor or Faithful) is competing for the exact same prize pool. it's not like The Mole (or any other social deduction game), where the secret evil team actually has different goals diametrically opposed to those of the good team and has to complete them without having anyone notice. here, the evil team just... votes on someone to "murder" every night. that's it.

to emphasize this point: the literal only thing that can ever give you away as a Traitor is being bad at lying/concealing guilt. there are ZERO gameplay differences between the goals of a Traitor and the goals of a Faithful, which means the arguments over who to vote for banishing are based entirely on "gut feelings"

nobody on the show has ever played a social deduction game before. late into the season, there's a day where all 3 Traitors are alive and it's down to 6 people total (so 3v3). anyone who has played Mafia/Werewolf/ToS/etc knows what this means: barring bullshit last-minute rules from the producers, it is quite literally impossible for the Traitors to lose, because none of them can be voted up. it takes 4 out of 6 votes to exile someone, and there are only 3 Faithful left. if no Traitor votes for another Traitor, then it is, again, literally impossible for a Traitor to be exiled. furthermore, if they all coordinate their votes on one Faithful, all they have to do is convince one of the remaining two Faithfuls to vote with them, and they instantly win $180k (split three ways). and hey, wouldn't you know it, one of the Faithfuls (Kate) was already really suspicious, and another one of the Faithfuls (Quentin) said out loud multiple times that he was voting for her!

so what do you think the Traitors did?

god this part pissed me off so much im having to pause for breathe while typing this. okay. so.

two of the Traitors voted for the third Traitor, who got voted off.

after being voted off, youre supposed to walk up to the Circle of Truth and reveal if you were a Traitor or not. the guy who got eliminated (Christian) was entirely too nice and gracious about it. me n bailey discussed this and came to the conclusion that we would either a) out the other Traitors on the stand and explain, using game theory and math, exactly how fucking stupid they are, completely ruining the game for them, or b) pretend to cry a little while walking up to the Circle of Truth but as soon as you walk behind the first other Traitor's chair you flip it over backwards and elbow drop their nose into their face while screaming "YOU STOLE $60K FROM ME YOU SON OF A BITCH"

also the guy who got eliminated (Christian) was very clearly autistic and Every Single Reason the other traitors gave for not liking him was like straight out of the DSM V diagnostic criteria ("he talks too loud and laughs weird", "he's got way too much energy all the time", "his emotional responses don't make sense")

apparently there's a season 2 but i cannot bring myself to watch it after seeing Christian thrown to the lions (ayyy Sunday school reference)

also at one point a Faithful has to leave because of COVID (this was filmed in 2020) so the producers don't let the Traitors murder anyone that night for balance reasons, but to compensate, they tell them they can like. write down three names that will be publicly revealed to everyone the next morning, and then one of those people dies the next night. so obviously this is mostly a nerf for the Traitors because they miss a night of killing someone, but the intention was clearly to give the Traitors an opportunity to sow confusion by putting one or two of their OWN names onto the list to make them seem like Faithfuls. and they even had an extra objective during that day's game where one of the three people could earn a "shield" to protect them that night, so if a Traitor was on the list, they could basically "steal" the shield from the other 2 (since they obviously weren't getting killed no matter what). but i think the Traitors heard "write down three names" and "kill" and had all the blood rush to their respective dicks because they just wrote three Faithfuls lmao. deeply unserious show

#the traitors

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w2soneshots · 9 days

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Accident -KSI

Words: 0.7k+

Warnings: angst, skiing accident, hospitals, recovery.

Summary: when abroad skiing for a sidemen video you have an accident and everyone’s worried about you.

a/n: I love this request and I feel like JJ is such a cutie so he would definitely react like this💞. I hope you enjoy my loves!!😊🫶🏼

Liked by tobjizzle, taliamar and 521,870 others

y/username: how it started vs how it's going😭

-comments-

ksi: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

freyanightingale: my poor girl🥺

y/nfanpage21: omfg what happened? Are you ok?

user31083649: isn't she filming for a sidemen vid?

-> user29736105: yea. I'm not sure if they'll post it now tho🤷‍♂️

"Shit! Babe, are you okay?!" JJ shouted, racing over to me. I could barely hear him. My ears were ringing and my head hurt. "y/n? y/n can you hear me? Answer me!" He scrambled as I began to come back into consciousness. "I'm ok." I croaked. My voice coming out much more quiet than I thought it would. "Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me." I tried to sit up, a sharp pain spread through my leg. I hissed. JJ started to panic for a second time. "Don't move! What is it? Your leg?" I nodded. "Ok I'm gonna call an ambulance."

It felt a little bit like a blur after that. I was rushed to the nearby hospital where they completely checked me over. Almost an hour after we arrived the doctor came back with the results of their tests. "So, you have a concussion which is most likely from the impact of the fall and is the reason you blacked out. Your leg is severely bruised since that was what you landed on but nothing is broken. You are very lucky." She explained sweetly. A weight lifted from my shoulders. JJ let out a relived breath. "Thank you." I smiled. "You'll need to rest and take it easy for the next few weeks but you should be just fine."

We flew home the next day and I was treated like a complete princess. JJ cancelled everything in order to take care of me. I slept, watched reality tv, cuddled with our little dog and ate the food JJ brought to me, which mostly consisted of uber eats since I'm usually the cook. Yinka (JJ's mum) came round to bring me some home cooked food and to make sure that I was okay, which was really sweet. I got many texts from all of my friends along with the boys who were really concerned when they saw I'd had an accident.

I wasn't initially supposed to be going on the trip but Vik became Ill so they asked if I could step in last minute, since every time I go on there channel the video does really well. I agreed and we left for the airport the next day.

I spent the first day on the bad team with Simon and Harry which they both felt bad about but I'm really close with Simon since I've known him for so many years so I wasn't that bothered. I had to spend the night in a tiny room with them, me on the top bunk. Then JJ and Harry swapped so I ended up remaining on the bad team with Simon and JJ, I wasn't really mad though because I can't ski and I'd rather have the funny experience with JJ.

Then only one hour in I lost control and practically rolled off of a small snowy cliff. I landed in the snow after only falling about three metres but I was going full speed, doing something I wasn't familiar with. They asked if I wanted the video to be cancelled and I told them that was ridiculous. I fell on the last day and wasn't injured that badly plus the whole thing was caught on camera so it was great content.

"I'm seriously so glad you're ok. I was really worried for a second." JJ said quietly as he gently ran his hand through my hair. I yawned as we were about to go to sleep. "Could you imagine if I had died? I can see the headlines now, 'KSI's girlfriend dies while filming sidemen Sunday'" I played it out with my hands. He chuckled. "I love you. Good night." He kissed my forehead. I nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I love you too." I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

Liked by ksi, faithloisak and 410,732 others

y/username: thank you for your lovely messages but I'm ok, just realised I'm shit at skiing😘

-comments-

miniminter: committed to the content

-> y/username: a little too committed😂

taliamar: side note: you look stunning!

y/nfanpage21: I'm glad she's alive x

user71209374: the puppy🥹💕

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biwitchenergyz · 2 months

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When Dragon's Dance

Content Warning: Adult Language, Mentions of Drug Use, and hints towards grooming. I do not own any of the characters or songs used in this story, but I hope you enjoy and if you do, please let me know!

Songs used: I Was Made for Lovin’ You by KISS

Chapter 1: Hypnotized by the Lights

If this car ride lasts any longer you might reach over and strangle Cregan bloody Stark. It wasn’t completely his fault, but you can name a million reasons why he is to blame for this very moment. Cregan is unaware of the threat on his life, instead, he sits happily humming along to a song that plays through the limo speakers. You watch him with disgruntled fascination. Every tap of his thick fingers on the door handle, every swing of his dark curls as they bounce against his shoulder. “Cregan, the next time you want to go out. Make sure it’s not after I've been filming for 10 hours!” You scold him but he doesn't mind. If anything, he has grown to love your attitude, especially when it amuses him. He stops the music with a tap of his phone and smiles at you with all of his pearly teeth on display. “I already said I was sorry, babes! I didn’t know the label was gonna force you to come with me.” In his defense, he did seem guilty about the whole thing. It wasn’t his fault, you remind yourself again, he just wanted to see that stupid band of his and your manager had insisted you come along for publicity.

Being in a publicity stunt relationship wasn’t hard, per se. It was mainly awkward and worst-case scenario, tiring. You have been with Cregan for about three years now and to be honest, he is your best friend. It isn't hard to pretend to love him because you certainly do. It's just the in-love with him part that you can't quite get. “Well let's at least make this worth it. You stay by me at all times and try not to brush me off. If we want this to look like another happy date, I need you to try.” Cregan can be a good actor when he needs to but when he gets caught up in something he starts treating you like an old friend, not a passionate romantic partner. It has been noted by one or two gossip sites, but he has done his best to put those rumors to rest. “Got it. Ok. I’m in love with you and we are here to see my favorite band. No problem.” Cregan waves a hand like he’s a professional but as soon as the driver opens his door he practically flies from his seat, stopping on a second thought, to help you out the car.

It is no red carpet walk but there are a bunch of paparazzi lining the side of the building, snapping photos and shouting questions as you walk hand in hand. “Cregan! Are the Stark Dire Wolves ready to beat the Baratheon Stags at the game this Sunday?” “Over here, Ma’am! When will we be expecting a new season of Maegor’s six wives?” They all fall over each other, fighting like animals for the chance to talk with either of you. From across the street, some people have stopped to record you and to those cameras, you smile and wave. Cregan makes sure you get in the building first before he sighs. “I will never get used to that shit.” He groans, releasing your hand in favor of placing his hand on the small of your back. You laugh a little at his clear frustration. “Come on, Super Bowl champion! You can’t handle a little paparazzi?” He smiles at your teasing, he always does. “Ok, Miss Lights, Camera, Action! Not all of us are used to photoshoots and red carpets.” You could argue that he has done all of those things as well, but you let it drop as he leads you both to the suite he has booked.

It isn’t small by any means, with a whole front row of cushioned seats and a table for catering in the back. There is a sink with about six cabinets above the faucet and it even comes with its own bathroom. The red carpeting looks freshly cleaned and the whole room smells of citrus. “You bought a suite? For one concert?” You ask him as you place your purse on the marble tabletop. Cregan shrugs, seemingly uninterested in discussing it but one raised eyebrow from you and he spills. “My manager booked the suite. He didn’t want us in the actual stands.” That explains it. Cregan's manager, Edward Bolton, is unbelievably strict. Frankly, you think the man is a total ass, but he has control of the Stark Dire wolves' team and with Cregan being their star player, he has full control of him. “This isn't the biggest venue they have played at, right?” You don't know much about the Dancing Dragons all you know is that they mainly play rock music and get into a shit ton of scandals. All the songs you have heard have been great though. “Nah this is just a private show for the Fanclub and anyone who could buy tickets. I saw them play at the Riverland Arena a year or two ago. I swear I thought all of Westeros was there!�� He smiles fondly before playfully nudging you to the side so he can get the best seat, right in the center. You sit close to him with his arm around your shoulder, just a little taste for the cameras that may turn to snap photos of you.

While you wait for the concert to begin you scroll through the band’s Wikipedia page. Jacaerys Targaryen, the leader of the group and the bass player, is Cregan’s favorite, and every time he talks about the guy, he gets flushed. Then there’s Lucereys, Jacaerys’s brother who can make the keyboard sound like the coolest instrument known to man. Both of them are Rhaenyra’s sons, you never got the chance to meet them when you and Rhaenyra both worked on the set of Conqueror, but she talked about them often. Then there’s the fan favorite, Daeron, on the drums. He’s the same age as Luke and they both have an adorable charm that makes them the band's most adored members. Daeron is not alone, there are his brothers Aegon and Aemond. They bring a “sex appeal”, as Cregan put it, to the band. They also bring scandals. Aegon is the lead singer with a well-known drug addiction and the electric guitar player, Aemond, just ended things with his questionably older girlfriend, Alys Rivers. “Wait, are they all cousins?” You ask Cregan who frowns at your question. “No, Babes. Jace and Luke are their nephews. They are a family band though. There is lots of lore on that, but we can talk about it later. Here they come!” He squeals the last sentence as he rises in his seat and watches the smoke form on stage with fascinated eyes. Similarly, your eyes find the stage and watch as the smoke rises. With the red lights pointed down, the smoke appears like fire in the foggy red glow. The crowds of people, anonymous in the pitch-black stadium, rise, yelling and chanting the band's name as the curtains part. “King’s Landing! I wanna hear you scream!”

#aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x reader #alicent hightower #aemond x you #aegon x reader #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #rhaneyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #helaena targaryen #viserys targaryen

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timeagainreviews · 5 months

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Dance, Magic Dance: The Church on Ruby Road

With the return of Russell T Davies we were given a “new” Doctor Who logo with their revamped take on the classic diamond logo. The diamond logo is everywhere now. Books, web content, episodes, and more are stamped with it. Everything except for the “Doctor Who: The Collection,” blu-rays which continue to display the Jodie Whittaker era logo. The reason for this is simple- spines. Most people display books and physical media with their spines facing outward. If you were to change the font on those spines, they lose their uniformity. For some people, that shit is infuriating. It’s not just Doctor Who fans either. The infamous plastic Homer head box for The Simpsons’ sixth season DVD is still controversial. If Doctor Who fans can get upset about a blu-ray spine, then imagine how they might react if you were to change the Saturday time slot to a Sunday. Or even more brazenly, imagine changing the Christmas episode to a New Year's Eve episode. Should be super easy, barely an inconvenience. Right?

It had been six years since Doctor Who last aired a Christmas special. While I have come to appreciate the importance of a Christmas episode within the fandom, I argued in favour of the change at the time as I am not the biggest fan of Christmas. I have history with the holiday, like many of us do. New Year’s Eve also pertains to time, so it made some sense. And for as cheerful as they tend to be, Doctor Who Christmas specials were becoming a graveyard of regenerating Doctors. I get that Christmas is about renewal, but watching the Doctor die on Christmas isn’t my jam, especially if they’re surrounded by a bunch of tacky Christmas decor. Only one other time do we see a freshly regenerated Doctor at the beginning of a Christmas episode and that was David Tennant in “The Christmas Invasion.” It also consistently ranks as the best of the RTD Christmas specials. Though I believe “The Church on Ruby Road,” may soon challenge that.

Before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying I was on my third flute of Buck’s Fizz by the time the episode started. I don’t usually drink alcohol when I’m about to watch a film or TV show. I once went to see Terry Gilliam’s “The Brothers Grimm,” while drunk and it was a bad time on two fronts. But this was Christmas, I was feeling a bit jolly. I only mention this because I may be a bit fuzzy on the details. It’s funny then that the details are another reason I’m feeling a bit fuzzy. Last night, when I should have been asleep, I was researching runes, glyphs, and symbols in an attempt to identify the symbols drawn on the Doctor’s fingernails. That’s how intriguing this new era of Doctor Who is- it’s got me doing research into the early hours of the morning.

Where I first noticed the symbols drawn on Ncuti’s fingernails was in the below promotional image. They looked like some fan had put them there, but when I saw that it was official, I felt a stir inside. Part of me mourned for the kids who have parents like my mom who would see those symbols, call them Satanic and forbid them from watching Doctor Who. The other part of me questioned their function. I know Ncuti Gatwa is an avid follower of the zodiac, so I was braced for it to be that simple, but I had hoped it was something more. In my research, I had trouble finding an exact match for the two clearest runes in the picture. The character on his ring finger looks a bit like the number three in Psalter Pahlavi or like something from Linear A. While the crescent shape on his middle finger looked a bit like the alchemical symbol for platinum or the zodiac symbols for the Sun and Moon. When you’re a time and space travelling alien, your zodiac and table of elements must reach beyond our solar system. They could be alchemical symbols for Dalekanium or the zodiac symbol for Gallifrey. Maybe with this new magical Whoniverse, the Doctor now writes talismans on his fingers for protection.

It’s an enchanting prospect that we get to discover this new magic through the eyes of a new Doctor and companion. There’s a sort of levelling of the playing field for us as fans to come into this new chapter of Doctor Who slightly off our bearings. Who better to lead us through the chaos of magic than the Doctor himself? If his fingernails are a sign of this change, then he’s already got a leg-up on us, which is an exciting place to be as an audience. It’s so easy to be a pedantic know-it-all when the answer is always “Aliens,” but what about all those times a wizard did it, or in this case, the Toymaker?

Our introduction to Ruby Sunday was a bit surprising. Leaving her on a church doorstep felt like a page out of the Steven Moffat playbook of fairy tale magic. But also grounded in the character development we got with Rose, Martha, and Donna. Ruby’s backstory is a mystery, but her agency is not. Ruby has friends, a band, and a family. We’ve known her for 55 minutes and I already have a decent grasp on who she is as a person. She has a compassion for Lulubelle which goes beyond being kidnapped by Goblins. You can see she feels a kinship as a fellow foundling. She knows how it feels to feel disconnected from her history. Similarly, the Doctor can look at both Ruby and Lulubelle and see himself on their faces. He too was adopted after being left behind.

I enjoyed this aspect of the story as my own family is touched by adoption. My mother found out she was adopted after her adoptive parents died. Coincidentally, she had already adopted a little girl from China a year or so prior. I now have three adopted siblings and I love them all. It means a lot to me to see them portraying Ruby’s family as a realistic depiction of an adopted family. Her adoptive mother, Carla, is as good a mother as one could hope for. When she admits she was nervous about Ruby finding her biological mother, it’s understandable. She doesn’t want to ruin the beautiful family that started when Ruby came into her and her mother Cherry’s lives.

The Davina McCall scene may be the weakest part of the episode. Aside from the prologue, it’s basically the first scene, and much like the other opening scenes in the RTD2 era, it’s a bit wonky. The dialogue lends itself to Ruby’s nervousness being interviewed, but “foundled,” is a bit too close to fondled for my tastes. It’s VOR all over again. The main takeaway from the interview is that Ruby was the baby left at the church (no surprises there) and that Davina’s people are going to try to find her birth parents. Sadly, as we come to find out, Ruby’s parents prove to be untraceable. The interview is cut short when the mics begin picking up the sound of Goblins. I feel like the only reason they were Goblins is because pointy-eared mischief makers called Gremlins ruining Christmas was a bit too close to a certain ‘80s movie. Better to go for a story with musical numbers about Goblins who steal babies for the Goblin King. No ‘80s movies infringed there… wait a minute. I kid of course, there’s nothing wrong with paying homage to the classics.

Before we get too far from the interview scene, I want to talk about Denzel. No, I don’t mean America’s sweetheart, Denzel Washington, I mean the sound guy. Was I drunk, or did Ruby mention he asked her out? I’d heard rumours she was going to have a bit of a love triangle with her boyfriend and the Doctor. I wonder if it’s not him. It would be weird to have a sound guy with a unique name who gets mentioned again if it’s not going to come back into play. I think this might enter the territory of the controversial aspects of the season that Millie Gibson alluded to recently. It’s funny then that the part of me that finds any of that controversial is the part of me that hates the idea of the Doctor being romantic with companions. I’ve never enjoyed it. Rose and Ten? Blech. Yaz and Thirteen? Snore. Representation matters, sure, but what about asexual and aromantic representation? I get that people might fancy the Doctor, especially when they look like Ncuti Gatwa, but I hope the Doctor continues to ward off any advances.

Speaking of representation, I would like to take a smidgen of a moment to talk about Trudy. As a trans woman, it was nice to see her living her best life. Simply letting trans characters exist is better representation than what we got in “The Star Beast.” They didn’t even pat themselves on the backs about it in “Doctor Who Unleashed,” as I worried they might. Regardless, some cis people think that any trans representation is shoving it down their throats. They reject the reality that for many people, trans people are a part of their daily lives. If your average person took the time to learn people’s pronouns, they’d see we’re everywhere. We’re not trying to shove anything in your face. Trust me. You’re not our type.

As I said above, it’s nice to see Ruby’s life play out over this montage. You learn a bit about her life and what she gets up to. Though when I heard she had a band, I was hoping for something more punk than Christmas standards. Ncuti dancing on the dancefloor was joyous, a word which I find myself using about him a lot lately. I love the embracing of his Scottish upbringing with his kilt. When I read RTD’s Doctor Who Magazine article talking about the Doctor dancing, I worried a little bit. Sure, the Ninth Doctor proved the Doctor dances, but I worried the scene would make the Doctor feel too sexy or too human. The Eleventh Doctor’s terrible dancing garnered the name “The Giraffe,” because it was so unflattering. But the Fifteenth Doctor pulls it off in a way few others could. However, I do still take issue with one aspect of that scene and that’s Ruby leaving her drink unattended in a busy club. There are worse people than Goblins mucking about with drinks, Russell. Let’s make a good example for the young members of the audience.

The montage of the Doctor watching Ruby from afar was actually a note from Disney. Test audiences wanted to see the Doctor earlier, and I don’t disagree. In the words of Werner Herzog’s Mandalorian character- “I want to see the baby.” It also explains why we recently saw footage of Ncuti punching through a snowman head when principal photography had ended months ago. This, of course, was due to further meddling from the Goblins, who appear to be everywhere now. They’re like bedbugs who pass from person to person. I loved the line “A pram at midnight. Really?” Such a cheeky Doctor already. Gatwa gives vibes of previous Doctors throughout the entire episode, but the snowman head scene gave us one I didn’t expect. The Doctor telling the policeman to ask his girlfriend to marry him reminded me of the Eighth Doctor’s penchant for fortunetelling. Only this time, he’s not weirdly omniscient, but rather making a wild assumption after his sonic pinged a diamond ring, which is a thing it does now, evidently.

The Doctor’s new sonic screwdriver has been a bit controversial, because what isn’t in this fucking fandom lately? I get the argument that it’s just not to your liking, that’s fair. But I’ve seen some monumentally dumb takes on the subject. I saw someone complain that it wasn’t shaped like a screwdriver. I hate to break it to you, but none of them have been shaped like a screwdriver. Show me on the Third Doctor’s where you fit the Phillips head. I’ve also seen people complain that it looked like tech from the early 2000s. So their biggest complaints are that it looks weird and out of time. How inappropriate for an alien time traveller. Regardless, I loved seeing Fifteen using his assorted gadgets. His intelligent gloves feel like a natural fit amongst his classic instruments and I can see them coming in handy further down the line. There’s also something about seeing the Doctor pull out the psychic paper that brings it home for me. It’s like seeing the Doctor square off with their first Dalek. It makes them feel complete. I know RTD said they’re giving the Daleks a rest for a bit, but I hope we do get to see Ncuti officially call one a “detty pig,” before he bows out.

The Goblin ship was a great way to introduce us to the new magical aspect of the Whoniverse. Not just because it’s fantastical, but also because the Doctor wasn’t able to use his shiny new screwdriver on it. Had it been a normal spaceship with metal and wires, he would only need to point and click. But this ship is all wood and rope, rendering the sonic mostly useless. The Goblins force the Doctor to learn the science of luck, but the ship causes him to learn the language of rope. I adored watching Ruby and the Doctor bicker while he was busy learning about the ship. They’ve not been together five minutes and they’re already getting tied up by baddies. They have an instant Doctor/companion relationship and it’s obvious why they were paired together. Furthermore, Ncuti’s detachment from the danger of the situation, coupled with an admiration for the Goblins’ tech was pure Doctory goodness. I could easily see Tom Baker fiddling with rope while Sarah Jane complained that he was goofing off.

Because of the charity release of “The Goblin Song,” many of us had become intimately familiar with it before the episode. What I doubt many of us were expecting was for Ncuti and Millie to join in on the singing. While I’ve not heard anyone complain about this, I’m sure someone has. To me, it worked. For starters, it’s a Christmas episode. Secondly, the Goblins have a band. It makes sense that the Doctor would try to win them over by speaking their language. It seems to work as the Goblins dance along with the Doctor and Ruby. Much of their logic seems dictated by whimsy. They sing and dance. They cause mischief. And they are attracted to coincidence. It’s not just that Lulubelle is a baby, it’s that she’s flavoured by happenstance. Both she and Ruby are foundlings left on Christmas Eve. It’s like the sound of a dinner bell for these little munchers. While the singing and dancing worked for both the scene and the Goblins, I hope RTD continues to use it sparingly. While I expect to see it return with the Beatles episode, I don’t want the concept to wear out its welcome. Doctor Who can afford the odd musical episode, but let’s not go crazy.

With Lulubelle saved, the Doctor and Ruby get her back home before Carla or Cherry ever notice she’s gone. This gives the family a chance to meet the Doctor, starting with Cherry. Cherry’s reaction to the Fifteenth Doctor was an understandably thirsty one. RTD kind of wrote himself into a corner by casting Gatwa. It must be exhausting to begin every scene with “The Doctor enters the room and people are immediately enamoured.” He exudes charisma in a way that makes you stop looking at David Tennant. Remember the bi-generation scene? Little known fact, but Tennant was also in that scene. Another enjoyable aspect of the Cherry scene was seeing the Doctor flirt back. I know I said I dislike a romantic Doctor, but it was nice to see it with someone more age-appropriate. I kid, but what I did like about the scene was that he spoke to her as if she were a young woman. Because for him, she is. And even further, it didn’t feel like that cutesy old people flirting like “If I were younger,” bullshit. It makes sense that a time traveller would find whoever a person is in the present the most important. You can travel to the past or the future, but it all pivots along you in the present. We stand outside past and future versions of ourselves. To me, this is why the Doctor is compassionate, he sees the pivot people are capable of making. Can you now pivot beyond a dark past into a bright future?

The meeting between Carla and the Doctor was less flirtatious. Carla seemed open to this eccentric Doctor while keeping a concerned mother’s distance. The ironic thing is that not only is the Doctor like Ruby and Lulubelle, but he’s also a lot like Carla. Both of them know the weight that comes with what the Twelfth Doctor would call “duty of care.” Like the Doctor’s long list of previous companions, the photos on Carla’s fridge tell a story of lives touched. This is why when things go bad and Ruby disappears, the missing photos on the fridge cut us to our core. Michelle Greenidge floored me with her performance here. Seeing her claim her life is great because she has no responsibility was harrowing. We’ve seen her real truth. She’s a centre point of light illuminating the lives of many, not this selfish woman in it for the paycheck. Even Cherry now feels forgotten in the other room, waiting out the clock. This is a reality the Doctor cannot tolerate.

Not only are the Goblins little baby-stealing monsters, but they’re also time-hoppers, whatever the hell that means. How it differs from time travel probably has more to do with a Time Lord’s concept of elegance than anything else. But like the Daleks, I doubt Goblins have much of a concept of elegance. If anything it’s a warped admiration for coincidence. And if a baby Lulubelle isn’t a viable meal option, then the other side of that coincidental coin, baby Ruby, would have to suffice. After all, I’m fairly certain if they don’t feed the Goblin King soon, he’s going to start wooing Jennifer Connelly at a masked ball. The Doctor travels back to that church on Ruby Road. Tears still running down his face, we see the mysterious woman leaving Ruby behind. Is it her mother? Is it a younger version of the mysterious Mrs Flood? Is it Ruby herself? The Doctor doesn’t have the time to go chasing after her. He has Gobbos to stop.

Floating above the church steeple like Bowser’s airship, the Goblins begin hauling Ruby onboard. The Doctor climbs to the church roof where he puts the last spark of power in his intelligent gloves to the test. Instead of climbing up to the ship, the Doctor begins pulling the ship back down to earth by its rope ladder. However, the ladder is more likely to give out before his gloves do. So in a last-ditch effort, the Doctor brings all of his weight down using the gloves’ ability to increase mavity (I know) on the ladder. The ship plunges onto the church steeple which stabs up through the hull and into the belly of the Goblin King. With his influence and magic now dispersed, the ship and all of its Goblins disappear with it, leaving baby Ruby in a freefall. No pressure. The Doctor of course catches her using the gloves to cushion her fall. It was all a pretty lucky gamble considering the steeple could have just as easily hit Ruby, but luck is now a tangible thing, so maybe it was lucky. You could say “The Doctor killed a guy,” but you could also say this was the Goblin King’s second chance, and as you remember- “No second chances.” It would appear that the Doctor is still that sort of man.

With the Goblins gone, neither Ruby nor Davina McCall will be plagued with bad luck. Davina even gets so lucky as to have the Doctor appear just in time to prevent her from being brained by a Christmas tree star. The pictures on the fridge are back, and so is the giant crack the Goblins left when they attempted to kidnap Ruby. It makes you wonder just how Carla and Cherry will fair with squirrels getting in through the roof while Ruby is off exploring all of time and space. Does insurance cover acts of Goblin? Who knows, maybe Kate Stewart will stop by with a restoration team. All the Doctor would need to do is make a call. Mrs Flood returns to commend the Doctor for a better parking job. Is it just me or was that a subtle hint of disability representation? A subtle reminder not to block the pavement for the elderly and disabled.

I liked that the TARDIS appeared to invite Ruby inside by opening her doors to her. You could say the Doctor flipped a switch, but he was busy doing his fourth costume change. I like to think she was giving her seal of approval. I never quite understood why the TARDIS didn’t like Clara. It seemed to come out of nowhere. The TARDIS was like, “I dunno why, but I don’t like this bitch.” I guess you could say the whole Impossible Girl thing made her competition, but now it’s just starting to sound like Moffat writing women. But the TARDIS and Ruby? Just gals being pals. Sisters before misters. Empowered women empower women. Yas queen.

In the end, we’re left with Mrs Flood comforting her neighbour Abdul after he sees the TARDIS dematerialise. She gives the camera a devious smile as she says “Never seen a TARDIS before?” This of course is the classic Davies Easter Egg. He knew the fandom would blow up. And dammit, after almost twenty years of saying it, it had better be the Rani. Some people have said Romana or Susan, but she feels a bit more sinister. Besides, if it’s Susan, I’m going to be disappointed because Carol Anne Ford is still alive. If it was Susan, we’re owed a flashback to her regeneration. The reason she feels slightly sinister is the way she gaslights Abdul about the TARDIS. She yells at the poor man like he parked the thing in front of her house even though she apparently knows what it is. Conversely, she could be nobody we’ve seen before. Perhaps she’s an Eternal or “the Boss.” Either way, I’m intrigued.

Ncuti Gatwa is finally the Doctor. It almost feels unreal to be able to say that. Not only have we waited a long time to say it, but what an exciting Doctor he is already. He brings an invigorated energy to the performance. He's full of charm and I can't picture many Doctors pulling off a curtsy as well as he did. I’m still waiting for him to get a bit scary, but his amazed reaction to seeing Goblins about to eat a baby shows me he’s capable of it. I would like to see them show his age a little, but there’s still loads of time. His conversation with Cherry gave us a glimpse at the ancient being behind his eyes, but I would like to see more. While the Doctor may still have hang-ups about his past, it would appear his time with Donna was a time of emotional healing. The Doctor isn’t afraid of his emotions and it’s been a bit of a revelation just how much I like that. This Doctor wears his hearts on his sleeves and it’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s a far cry from “I'm still quite socially awkward,” and I couldn’t be any happier about that. We have a new Doctor. A new companion. New rules. Is anyone else excited for May?

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pennylanefics · 10 days

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Instrument - Jack Drury

a/n: i reworked this so much omg, but kinda happy with the result! i have a busy weekend coming up, i have to work tomorrow and friday, then i have a grad party for my cousins on saturday and my grandpa's celebration of life thing on sunday, so not sure how much time i'll have to get to these last few prompts. i am so far behind still so it doesn't matter too much, but only three more jack fics after this one :)

summary: jack takes you to a live symphony performance of Titanic and you reveal something that jack hadn't known about you

word count: ~2k

“You look incredible,” Jack gasps the second you step out of the bathroom, wearing a tight-fitting bodycon dress that flares out just a little right below your knee, sleeves down to your wrists, accentuating all your curves that Jack can never keep his hands off of.

It was also his favorite color, maroon, with tiny black flowers all over. Immediately, his hands find your waist and he pulls you close, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

“Mm, have I told you how much I love you? And how absolutely stunning you are?” He whispers against your skin, ghosting his lips along your face. “Don’t even wanna go tonight anymore, wanna stay here with you, worship you, make love to you.”

His voice is filled with lust, his entire mood changing when he saw you. A laugh bubbles in your chest and you shove him away from you playfully.

“We’ve had these tickets for a year, Jack. I am not missing this. So you can stay home and I can ask Jarvy to go with me.”

“Oh yeah, because Jarvy’s the best date to an event like this,” Jack snidely remarks, sighing as he sits down on the bed. You chuckle and finish putting your jewelry on before slipping your heels on.

“As rude as that is, I kind of have to agree with you.” Jack laughs with you and stands up, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “I don’t think he’d be able to keep the comments to himself.”

“Absolutely not. You know what it’s like to watch a regular movie with him. Never shuts up,” Jack replies with a shake of his head. As much as you both loved Seth, you had to admit that some spaces were not his specialty. Which is exactly what tonight was, the opposite of something Seth would do well with.

Jack was taking you to see Titanic, accompanied by a live orchestra at the symphony; it has been something you’ve been wanting to see for a long time, ever since your local symphony started doing it. But every time there are events scheduled, you are unavailable or simply not interested in the movie showing. Finally, though, Jack was able to snag really nice seats to a screening during the two weeks it would be showing, and just in time for the anniversary of the film’s release date.

Jack leads you out of the house and drives downtown, finding a parking garage near the symphony hall. Not long after parking, you find yourself sitting in front row mezzanine seats, watching as people pour into the hall and find their seats, noisy chatter filling the echoing space.

“I’m so excited,” you squeal quietly, tugging on Jack’s arms. He lets out a soft laugh and kisses the side of your temple, squeezing your hand and setting your entwined hands on his thigh. “Thank you for taking me and coming with me.”

“I bet it’s going to be incredible,” he comments, looking up at the high vaulted ceiling. “And you’re welcome, love. I like seeing you happy so it’s a win-win situation.”

You and Jack chat quietly before the lights slowly dim before going off completely, the entire hall going silent, waiting for the opening notes. The orchestra quietly files out and takes their seats, getting situated. The conductor steps out shortly after, taking a small bow to the crowd before turning around and raising his arms.

The opening notes of the film start playing, and the screen behind the orchestra comes to life, showing the opening images of the film, real footage from the day Titanic set sail. Instant chills cover your arms as the sound filters through your ears.

A soft gasp escapes you, your emotions high as one of your favorite movies comes to life with live music, memories of your own experience in orchestra returning to your mind. Your eyes were glued to the screen the entire time, sometimes drifting down to the orchestra members, watching the smooth movements of bows on violins and violas or fingers tapping away on the brass instruments.

Jack kept stealing glances over at you, a small grin on his face whenever he does, seeing the bright, gleaming light in your eyes, laser focused on the screen in front of you; he could tell you still aware that he is next to you by the way your fingers trace along the back of his hand that lays in your lap.

During intermission, Jack gets up to head to the bathroom while you check your phone, scrolling through messages from friends and family, replying to a couple from Jarvy and KK in your group chat. When Jack returns, the lights flash a couple times to signal that there was five minutes left, silently telling people to start taking their seats again.

“That was a long ass line,” Jack grumbles, fixing his shirt when he sits down.

“That’s no shocker, there’s a lot of people in here.”

“No fucking kidding,” he whispers, looking behind the two of you at the mezzanine filled with people. “Ever think about the weight limit for-”

“Jack, I’m gonna need you to shut up right now,” you cut him off, not allowing him to finish his thought, fully aware of where he was going with it. “I am not going to be focusing on that the rest of the time.”

Jack laughs a little, clearly apologetic with his comment, and kisses your cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sure it’s fine.”

The film starts back up again and you settle back down, eyes drawing back in on the screen as the scene starts back up from where it left off.

The remainder of the show is just as incredible as the beginning, tears filling your eyes when the scene with the band came up, and they started playing “Nearer My God to Thee”. The lone violin that came in first hit you like a punch to the gut. The soloist was able to perfectly encapsulate the emotion and desperation in the scene before three other members of the orchestra join in, matching what is shown in the film. The rest of the orchestra remained still as these four players played with so much passion, your tears falling freely at this point.

Jack takes notice of the tears falling silently down your cheeks and raises his hand to gently wipe your cheek to rid the drops on your skin, some hitting his thumb on the way down. Still your eyes never once tore from the sight in front of you, completely drawn in.

When the film finally ends, the screen goes black and immediately, the entire hall bursts alive with claps and cheers. You stand up, along with every person in the room, giving the orchestra a huge ovation and recognition for their incredible work throughout the night.

“That was amazing, holy shit” you sigh, leaning into Jack’s chest after the conductor leaves his post, the musicians following close behind. He nods along and wraps an arm around your waist, waiting for people in your row to exit.

“It really was. I wasn’t sure what to expect but goddamn, that really blew me away.”

It took a bit to get out of the venue, but when you finally break through the doors, you breathe in the cold, winter-y air, stinging your lungs. You let Jack lead the way back to the garage since he knew where to go.

The temperature had dropped significantly since the start of the show, far more than you were expecting. It was going to be a bit of a walk to the garage with the amount of people flooding the street, so Jack shrugs his coat off and throws it around your shoulders, smiling softly.

“Should have brought a jacket,” you grumble to yourself, however Jack hears you clearly and laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“The sleeves on my dress were fine enough, it was warmer out earlier.”

“There’s a week till Christmas, I’m surprised it’s not snowing.”

“Global warming for ya, babe,” you snarkily reply, making your boyfriend chuckle. You continue walking and the second you plop into the passenger seat, you are reaching for the heat to turn it as warm as you could.

As expected, the two of you sit in a long line of cars waiting to leave the garage, but it gives you time to talk over the quiet music in the background.

“This all makes me miss playing in orchestra,” you comment, staring out the window. Jack’s eyes drift over to your face, a confused expression filling them.

“You were in orchestra?” He asks.

“Uh huh. For years. Through middle school, up until my senior year of high school. I was even in my college’s orchestra for the first semester, but I got too overwhelmed and wasn’t able to make many concerts, so I left.” Jack nods along, hearing the reminiscent tone in your voice as you think back to those moments.

“What instrument did you play?”

“Cello. I loved the deepness of it. I tried out all of them, but I just fell in love with the sound and style.” Jack grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the back of it, and then to your knuckles. “It was so much fun. Playing at competitions, to school events, meeting all my friends there, I miss it.”

“I’m sure you could find something local to play in,” he offers. “Or…you could always put on little private shows for me.” You giggle and swivel your head to face him.

“I haven’t played in years, I’m not even sure I’d sound all that great. But I’ve moved past that sort of…chapter of my life, I guess you could say. It was special in that time, but I fear it won’t be the same. So it’s better to let it go. I do sometimes wish I could go back and savor the moments much more than I did.”

“What kind of moments?” He continues the conversation, loving all of this new information he was learning about you.

“Some days, we’d have free practice and our teacher would let us go into separate practice rooms or the halls. Most of the time we goofed off and never really got any practice done. But we’d make jokes while one of us was trying to play and we’d just burst out laughing. We rarely got things done.”

“So you didn’t take it serious in the first place?” He teases you slightly, inching up the car just a bit when the cars in front of him move up a couple feet.

“Well, I will say I didn’t take it as seriously as some. We were in the intermediate level, so for a majority of us, it was a fun class to take and we loved music, but weren’t super set on becoming the next symphony soloist.”

“See, that’s how it should be. It’s something fun and you enjoy it. I hate those people that take classes like that so seriously, like come on, it’s high school orchestra, this isn’t serious for everyone.”

“Truly, that’s how this one kid acted. He took everything so literal, he would get mad at people who were messing around when there was nothing to do and our teacher said we could chill, yet he never made it to the advanced placement orchestra. It was too much.” Jack shakes his head at your story and looks back over at you. “I’d really love to know more about this new side of you,” he laughs softly. “Cello player…I think it’s sexy.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Playing an instrument like that takes real talent, and as smart as I am, I don’t think I could ever pick one up and just teach myself.”

“I’m sure Mr. Harvard over here could,” you tease him back, chuckling when he raises his eyebrows at you. “But maybe I’ll ask my parents if they still have my cello. I don’t think we sold it, so it has to be in the basement or a storage unit somewhere.”

“You definitely should because I would so love to see you play.” He gazes over at you, a grin on his lips as he thinks about your concentrated face when you play, imagining if you bit your lip or parted them while playing. It was making him a bit flustered, and you could tell.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Jacko.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

#jack drury #jack drury imagines #jack drury x reader #jack drury imagine #jack drury fanfic #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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lightflame · 2 months

Text

Tagged by @bagadew (Also tagging in @waermeflasche because you tagged me weeks ago and I didn't get back to you)

Last song I listened to: Soap by The Oh Hellos. I burn CDs and listen to them in my car. (The first few I tried to give themes and titles, and select the perfect song orders, but ended up kind of bad and the other was cursed and wouldn't play even though I remade it three times, so I just switched to throwing a ton of songs together on "Random Mixes" and enjoying.) I was listening to my very first random mix on the drive home from work and this one came up. It's a pretty snazzy song. I think Theseus and Hello, My Old Heart are my favourites from the band.

Last book I read: Can I do a couple? I just recently finished Play of Shadows by Sebastien de Castell. It's the first book of Court of Shadows, the sequel series to his Greatcoats series. Greatcoats is one of my favourite series, filled with swashbuckling action, clever humour, and an absolutely miserable protagonist, Falcio val Mond, who always manages to get back up and keep going anyway. I read everything de Castell writes, and after a string of books with severe pacing problems (check out The Malevolent Seven for a book that doesn't have a second act) and other problems (I have a hard time seeing any book topping Crucible of Chaos as the worst book I've read this year), he finally seems to be back. The book didn't pack quite the emotional punch of some of his other books, but it definitely made me want to jump up and cheer for the heroes at the end.

The other book I just finished is The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden. I liked her Winternight Trilogy (look it up and be prepared for some absolutely gorgeous covers, with prose to match), so I was excited to see something new from her. This book was about World War I, with some fantasy elements used for magic realism. (Portraying a soldier's struggle with addiction and PTSD through the lens of him losing his soul to the devil was a brilliant idea.) I most subsist on a steady diet of fantasy books, but this one had me hungering to read a few more historical books. I might have to pick up some books about the Halifax Explosion.

Last film I watched: I haven't watched much on my own for a while, but my friends do a movie night every Sunday. The last two times I tuned in, we watched Jesus Christ Superstar and Pokemon 3: Spell of the Unown. They were both fairly cute movies. I liked Judas's actor.

Last TV series I watched: I've been making my way through The Office for the first time. I'm on Season 3 and this happened to me, actually. There was some stuff I was like, "Wow, that was funny. I should tell my coworkers about it," but then I realized that I can't be the guy who tells his coworkers about this funny new show called The Office.

Last video game I played: If visual novels count, Umineko. I've been working my way through it slowly for about five and a half years and I'm finally closing in on the end. It's peak fiction and the greatest love story of the twentieth century. It's also funny I picked a game this insanely long for my first visual novel. Other than visual novels, I just finished Pokemon Legends: Arceus, after putting in 104 hours this year. Completing the Dex is my favourite part of any Pokemon game, so having it be more involved and include a big checklist made the game basically crack for me. I've also been casually playing some Star Wars: Battlefront II (2005) with my brother. Every time we play it, I'm always amazed by how good it is and how much content it has. I want to take command posts forever.

Last thing I googled: "Dandadan Aira". I just started the manga the other day and I like her best, so I wanted to double check her full name, I think? Other than that I'm mostly looking up when books are available at my local stores. I've been religiously checking when The Book that Broke the World will be available and I'm not even sure if I'm buying it.

Last thing I ate: A few snacks from my snack drawer. I also had a Quaker yogurt bar at work. I bought a big box of them last year, but I had to throw them out because of the Salmonella. (Chewed through a lot of them before that came out, though, including eating three on an airplane.)

Amount of sleep: Supposedly seven hours, since I went to bed right after finishing The Warm Hands of Ghosts last night. The only problem is that if I get to bed at a good time, I sleep fitfully, so I'm either sleeping poorly or sleeping well, but not getting anywhere near enough sleep.

Currently reading: I started Empire of Silence, the first book of The Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio, at work today. I've had the first three books sitting on my shelf for a year or two and I finally got around to starting it. (I'd resolved to do both this series and Kushiel's Legacy this year, after having both for so long, and I got that one done at the start.) I'm not very far in, but I enjoy the writing style a lot, even if a lot of the worldbuilding is obviously cribbed from Dune. (Whoa, look, mentats.) I've heard it picks up a lot in the second book, so I'm excited for what's in store for me.

Passing this on, I'll tag @somerunner @lyssq @soulsinshadow @lunawithsocks and @dancerladyaqua. (They also have currently watching and sweet, salty, or savoury as questions, which I didn't do.)

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racinginchid3nt · 9 months

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I’d Probably Still Adore You | Part One

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre Gasly

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: none yet. so far it’s just build up

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

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While you weren’t a newbie to watching the races, you’d never done so in person. Work kept you busy and the idea of wasting precious vacation days on a flight to sit in the rain instead of on your couch wasn’t your idea of enjoyment.

Your friend had been dating Pierre for a few months now. Having spent the past week fighting, she forced you to take a weekend off and fly to Belgium with her for the race at Spa. He had surprised her with an extra plane ticket and paddock pass as an apology.

As you had packed the night before, Y/N Best Friend had appeared at your doorstep, arms full of garment bags. As soon as she saw the comfortable, weather appropriate outfits you’d selected, she started ripping through your suitcase and adding in her own picks.

“We’re going to be in the paddock, not the grandstands. We have to look the part Y/N” She’d said.

“Besides, there’s plenty of eye candy and you’re single. Might as well make the trip worthwhile. You know our shared hotel room will basically be yours the entire trip.”

“Honestly Y/N Best Friend, I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I’ve heard enough horror stories about most of the guys to make it clear that I should steer clear.”

“You don’t have to marry him Y/N! I just think it would be more fun if you joined me on these trips more. A girl can dream. Besides, it doesn’t have to be a driver. Some of the mechanics are definitely worth a second look.”

“Screw it. Pack what you want but don’t take anything I packed out” You admitted with defeat. Maybe she had a point. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, and how much damage could one weekend do.

The journey to the airport in the hired car was relaxing. And when you boarded into first class and champagne was waiting at your seats, it was a welcome surprise.

The flight from Barcelona has lasted only a few hours and before you knew it you were gathering your purse and carry on to disembark. It was only Wednesday so you were able to relax as you got to the hotel. The suite was beautiful and Pierre had sent flowers to greet his girlfriend. As you unpacked, the two of you began to plan the weekend’s festivities.

Thursday would be filled with media day around the paddock, followed by Friday free practice and qualifying, then Saturday sprint. The race on Sunday would wrap everything up.

————————————————————————

Thursday

Media day started early. The time adjustment was rough but the calm arrival day helped. You were going with Y/N Best Friend and Pierre to the track. He had interviews and Alpine press responsibilities. The two of you would spend the day in hospitality.

Your paddock pass hung around your neck. A tag on a lanyard with your name and face. The drive in was crazy, with fans already lining up to see the drivers. Your best friend waved you ahead so she could help fans get their autographs and you entered security alone.

Seeing the track in person felt surreal. Larger than life, it started to set in that you were actually standing at Spa. You knew the Alpine hospitality would be further down the track. As you started your walk you were amazed by how many journalists were in attendance. As someone with a large camera and a boom mic began filming you, you were thankful you’d taken your friends advice and dressed the part. A simple dress and nice sneakers kept you both presentable and comfortable. You smiled at the camera crew, spotting the netflix logo on their badges, knowing as soon as they discovered your lack of celebrity they’d cut your clips from the show.

You arrived at hospitality, showing your pass at the doors, before sitting down in a small seating area to kill time until Pierre’s media interviews. As the time began to tick closer and closer to round one interview starts, you became nervous that you still hadn’t see Y/N best friend or Pierre.

You tossed your trash and began the walk to the tent. Glancing at your phone trying to decipher what Y/N Best Friend meant by her directions, you decided to head towards the back of hospitality. As you reached the end however, you couldn’t find anything that looked like a media tent. The interviews would be packed and there was no way the space could be small.

You began looking around trying to find someone who could point you in the right direction. The first person you spotted breezed past you, not even acknowledging your question. The second was speaking in what sounded like Italian and had looked at you in confusing, not understanding you. Resigned to wander on your own you picked up your pace and began jogging around the area, peaking your head around corners to see if media was set off to the side.

As you turned sharply after another dead end, you felt yourself bump into someone. Looking up you saw a head of brown hair reaching down to collect their empty cup. Apologizing profusely you reached into your bag to pull out tissues. It wasn’t until you began trying to pat dry the wet spot on the man’s shirt that he actually said anything.

“Fuck sorry. I’m in a rush I didn’t mean to bump you. Are you okay?” He said. The voice sounded familiar but your embarrassment kept your eyes down while you tried to clean the mess.

“Yeah. It was my fault. I’m so sorry about the spill. I’m in a rush too. Could you point me in the direction of the media tent? I’m supposed to be watching the interviews.”

“That’s where I’m going. Just follow me. They won’t let you in if you’re late.”

You looked up for the first time at the Aston Martin driver, realizing why the voice was so familiar.

“Yeah that’s what I was told. Lead the way!”

You followed behind the driver for a few minutes. Flashing your pass to security to enter into the back with just minutes to spare.

He continued on, making his way up to the stage. As he took his seat he began scanning the crowd, trying to determine which media was where and looking for his PR agent. As his gaze made it over to the visitor section he saw you seated with a few of the other girlfriends.

“What kind of guy ditches his girlfriend and doesn’t even tell her how to get to the media tent” he thought. He began eyeing the drivers near him, trying to remember who was and wasn’t single, but his train of thought was cut off as the host started the round.

————————————————————————

A/N: This is my first time doing any kind of fanfic in awhile. So hopefully they improve as they go on. Parts will hopefully be posted 5-6 times a week but we’ll see how it goes. The next post is already done and will be up soon. Im not sure what the final length on this will be but I have a pretty good guideline of the story planned out. There’s not nearly enough lance content IMO so someone has to contribute. There will also be a longer spin off of the Pierre and Best Friend storyline to come

Edit: please fill out the poll when you get a chance

#lance stroll #aston martin #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll x you #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n #alpine #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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