#1424

[justaboutsnapped]

“Forever TOP 1 in my heart”

HELLOOOO GUANYU WHAT PROMPTED THIS

[h2co3ice]

oooops😧

[soloh]

I'm terrified that if I were to dwell on all the best things about you for too long, if I allowed all those thoughts to compile themselves and sit with my soul for a while, I would fall and I would not be able to stop myself. And the fall doesn't scare me, I've fallen before knowing the person I'm falling for will not be waiting for me at the bottom. It's the thought of climbing back up, and trying to be your friend, and finding that you're not there either, that stops me from stepping off the edge. I would rather love you in all the acceptable, platonic, slightly lust-fuelled ways and have you in my life, than love you with the energy that I think you deserve to be loved, and not have you at all.

Excerpt from Something I'll Probably Never Write #12

[fractalkiss]

fernando/zhou guanyu, (and fernando/lance) 1k words

It occurs to Fernando the first time, that he doesn't remember exactly how old Zhou Guanyu is.

He can guess, with how Guanyu's fingers can't seem to stay still on Fernando's knees where he's seated between them, and his inability to look up at Fernando's eyes for any longer than a second. Fernando looks at the curve of Guanyu's ear instead and the strand of hair that falls over his temple, long enough to brush his cheekbone. A starkly different detail, nothing Fernando can compare it to. He rests his hand over the curve of Guanyu's neck.

"Should I just go and—" Guanyu begins.

"I will tell you how," Fernando says. His own voice isn't firm or low enough like he'd always imagined it to be in situations like this, but it hardly matters. 

Guanyu hasn't done this before very often, so Fernando has to hold him by the head; his throat works against him, and he forgets to breathe. Guanyu goes easy, pulling off of Fernando's dick when Fernando slides his hand into his hair, doesn't rest it over the back of his neck. He moves around too much.

"Good?" Fernando asks.

"Yeah," Guanyu breathes. The dark glossy haze of his eyes is recognisable. Fernando has seen this from other people, many times.

If this was the year before, or two years ago even, maybe Fernando's voice would be colder, rougher. People like Guanyu have expectations, and Fernando's always loved giving people a story to tell. Sometimes he thinks he's been too good this year, but the podiums have gotten him more than he's bargained for, things Fernando still can't internalise.

Fernando has Guanyu pressed back onto the carpeted floor next, squirming in anticipation, Guanyu's cock in his hand and his mouth hard on Guanyu's shoulder over his shirt. It's a nice shirt, a subtle pattern around the loosened buttons on the collar of the polo, stylish instead of simple. Fernando tries to think about wrinkling it by roughing him up, ruining it; he can't.

"Do you want me to—get undressed?" Guanyu asks, breathless, his voice quieter and higher than Fernando has ever heard it. Not high enough.

Fernando moves fast to lick at the head of Guanyu's dick and take him in so they don't have to talk.

Guanyu doesn't tell Fernando much, or reach out to him for more advice like Fernando told him he could back at Alpine's garage. Probably doesn't think asking is worth much while he's in a backmarker team with Valtteri; Guanyu and Valtteri talk a lot, gravitating back towards each other in between waiting for the parade and driver's meetings. In a lot of ways, Bottas really is the ideal teammate.

"One day, you'll want advice on how to beat him," Fernando says.

Guanyu laughs. "One day, maybe," he says, good-natured, the kind of ingrained respect there that is both refreshing and isolating. 

Fernando hasn't been very good at internalising this, all the nurturing that has made him look palatable and noble, even if it gets him a free pair of shoes from Alex. It wouldn't look so noble if he didn't get called an old dog who still knew all his tricks. At home, in his circle of privacy and the people who know him best, he doesn't think he's a better man, still gets called the hard-horned goat from the mountains who can never learn.

In the corner of the garage while they wait for the parade, Fernando sees Lance with Guanyu and Bottas. Lance's hands shirked in the waist pockets of his dark green windbreaker and one sneaker kicking restlessly at the ground as they talk.

Lance and Guanyu were nurtured from the same kind of red as young boys. When Fernando had met them years ago, he had still been blazing with the belief that he could take another championship in its very colour.

Guanyu has had Fernando's number for a long while now, long before Fernando had invited him to his hotel room the first time this season. It's the advantage that comes with being idolised; some of the people Fernando's invited over through the years never get any closer and Fernando doesn't usually have to work hard either to keep them apart. Not even Carlos Jr, but it's different, with him; Fernando never fucked Carlos's son, and never will.

He goes slow with Guanyu, because he can, and not because he's trying to keep himself from going fast and relentless. Fernando's abs are moist from the sweat between them, Guanyu's body rigid and warm against him and then he relaxes a little. He's calmer than Fernando had expected him to be throughout. Guanyu's moan cuts through the room, and Fernando thinks about pressing his fingers to his mouth to keep him quiet, thumb hooking teeth. Fernando keeps his hands on Guanyu's hips instead.

"Fernando," Guanyu gets out, an embarrassed laugh knocked out of him as Fernando thrusts in deeper.

"You can take it," Fernando says. He's still going slow, self-control within easy reach even in the wake of what's become a tougher second half of the season. Nothing Fernando hasn't already weathered before, and neither has Lance in the limited context of things. Lance is stronger than he looks, even if he doesn't know it himself at times—Fernando tightens his fingers on Guanyu's shoulder so he makes a drawn-out whimper that's loud enough to keep Fernando in the moment and remind him. That there's something he always just needs to get out of his system.

"You've been good," Fernando says. Just like that, Guanyu presses himself back, sighs into it. He barely makes any noise after, even if Fernando had been the one who asked if he could be quiet. It's almost disappointing, which makes Fernando's insides go cold, takes him apart all the same; Fernando kisses the corner of Guanyu's mouth just to find out too, how it feels, whether or not he'll tip his face into Fernando and kiss him for real—Guanyu doesn't. How fitting, Fernando thinks, that not every shred of reverence shown for him is the same. It's frightening.

Because there's still the sliver of hope on Guanyu's face, but it's contained and content, so unlike Lance. Some things feel too big with Lance, all too much—Fernando had foolishly thought it'd be safer to keep himself apart.

"This doesn't have to happen again," Guanyu says. He looks at Fernando for a moment almost kindly, like this hasn't just happened. Like this would still matter in the small scope of favours even if Fernando's name meant less. Guanyu understands what privilege means, and Fernando has always been very good at keeping himself out of reach where he can. 

"Thanks," Fernando says, knowing it will be the last. He's numb enough to be able grin at him.

[dailysmilingnatsume]

[picrewing]

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1424

local goofball kid gets determined a national threat, catastrophic results

[nikolamga]

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: January 11, 1993

Lyrics:

Is it right or wrong

Try to find a place

We can all belong?

Be as one

Try to get on by

If we unify?

We should really try

All this time

Spinning round and round

Made the same mistakes

That we've always found

Surely now

We could move along

Make a better world?

No it can't be wrong

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

Time is running out

Let there be no doubt

We should sort things out

If we care

Like we say we do

Not just empty words

For a week or two

Make the world

Your priority

Try to live your life

Ecologically

Play a part

In a greater scheme

Try to live the dream

On a wider scene

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Let's come together

Right now

Oh yeah

In sweet harmony

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Songwriter:

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Oh yeah

Helena Marsh / Jon Marsh / Helena Clare Marsh

SongFacts:

👉📖

Homepage:

The Beloved

[takesuhigher]

———

[justaboutsnapped]

Digging through Guanyu's 2020 weibo posts and finding gems. My boy's been Fernando posting forever 😭 Not the screenshot

Also Fernando Alonso what's with the Clintasha chibi stickers what are you trying to say

@blorbocedes thought you would enjoy. Was just gonna dm it to you but it was too good 😭

[hcgsstore]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Funko Pop Television: QE Queer Eye - Tan France (,NEW).

[soloh]

Girls like me don't deserve boys like you.

Boys like you,

with sunrise smiles and starlight eyes, and hearts pumping with humour and softness,

deserve girls with silken hair and symphonic laughter, and souls of light and selflessness.

And I,

am just a person.

Ordinary//soloh

[fractalkiss]

my hands are twisted too - fernando/zhou guanyu, fernando/lance, 1.2k (originally tumblr fic)

Guanyu understands what privilege really means, and Fernando has always been very good at keeping himself just out of reach where he can.

sorry homies. take 2 for making a fic post

[oldcountrybearloveselle]

ELLE No.1424 - 2 April 1973 - Photographed by Claude Guillaumin

[sjsharkies]

1/4/24 vs. Jets