#Quitters Never Win

[dykeferatu]

my favorite vtmb dialogue option is "life sucks and then you die. and then you un-die and then you die again"

[elipsi]

today we are staying in until the library closes, then dinner, then to the club until closing. merry christmas

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i don't know which hurts more, ignoring it or acknowledging it.

[ceesimz]

panna

Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)

Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.

The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.

As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.

Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.

You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.

"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.

"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.

Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.

"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.

"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.

"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."

"What is panna?" You frown, confused.

"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.

You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.

"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.

"No one likes a quitter."

"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.

"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.

"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."

You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.

Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.

"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.

Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.

...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.

"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.

"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.

"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.

"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.

For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.

"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"

You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.

"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.

"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."

You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.

"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.

"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.

"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.

She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.

"What are y-"

You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.

"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.

However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.

Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.

"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.

Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.

"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.

"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."

You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.

Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.

"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.

"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.

"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.

"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?

She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.

"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.

Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.

In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.

When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.

"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.

"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.

"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.

You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.

"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.

"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."

You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.

"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."

Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.

"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."

"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.

"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.

"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"

The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.

She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.

You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.

When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.

The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.

And boy did it come.

The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.

Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.

The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.

"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."

[honeybunhottie]

How do you think it would go if Josh was with Chris’s younger sister

How it would be if Josh was dating Chris’s younger sister

Oh my gosh, I love this request! I actually had some friends in this situation last year, so it’s kind of funny to be writing about it now. Also, this will be before Josh’s sisters go missing, or an AU where they never do. We need everyone to be silly and happy here

Chris’s side of things

Josh and Chris are best buds, they have been since the 3rd grade

They’ve been with each other through thick and thin, they share everything with each other!

Jokes, clothes, food, the list goes on

One thing that was never on the table, though, was their younger siblings.

Chris was fine in that aspect. He’d never felt anything romantic towards Beth and Hannah, as sweet as they were. He’d had his eye on Ashley for a while.

But when Josh starts leaving lingering gazes toward his baby sister, he subconsciously begins feeling a little protective.

(she’s only a year younger, but it pisses her off when he calls her that so he continues to do so)

There wasn’t concrete evidence yet that Josh liked her, but Chris's suspicion grew when he started inviting her to join their group hangouts.

and when he saw Josh taking his spot next to her at the movies, whispering into her ear instead of cracking jokes with him

and when he always seemed to be searching the crowd for her at parties

and when he kept not so subtly asking Chris questions about what she was into, if she was single, etc

(His hackles were raised with that one, but Josh rushed to say he was joking) he wasn’t

But… Josh couldn’t like HIS little sister, right?

Josh was his best bro, but… c’mon! He’s kind of a perv. And he had a few…issues. Definitely NOT the type to bring home to her high-strung mother.

But that didn't matter, because Josh definitely doesn’t like his baby sis

At least that's what Chris chooses to believe

Ignorance is bliss, as they say

Until he is forced to acknowledge it when he’s heading to the bathroom at a party and sees you and Josh making out in the hallway

All previous bladder needs are out the window as he freaks out at both of you

Eventually, he gets over it, he knows Josh well enough to know he won’t hurt you intentionally. And if he does, he’s sure Hannah and Beth will join him in kicking Josh’s ass <3

Josh’s side of things

Josh has known Chris since he was like 9, and they’ve been locked in ever since

He knew Chris had a little sister, but they’d never spoken more than 8 words to each other in one sitting

Except for the one time he stayed at Chris’s house and she “beat” him at Mario Kart

IT WAS TOTALLY HIS WIN UNTIL SHE BLUE-SHELLED HIM

needless to say, he still held a slight grudge

It didn’t help that they didn’t go to the same school as them, staying with her mother during the week and Chris’s family on the weekends

The messy dynamic was lost on Josh, but it worked for them

It wasn’t until the summer of junior year that he met her again.

There was a party, there was banter and there was dancing, and there was this beautiful girl who he might’ve been a little in love with

and also he may have been a little drunk

So imagine his shock when his best bud comes around and reintroduces the pair

Josh fought very hard to control his facial expression from contorting into shock

He bit his tongue and forced a grin with only one thought on his mind as he looked between the pair, noticing a few similar facial features

‘Oh shit’

Of course, Josh isn’t a quitter

So when he woke up in the morning with a text from her, thanking him for the dance and for the invite to hang out with everyone next week, he cursed his drunk perseverance

It would be the smart thing to leave his best friend's sister alone

It never ends well in all of the movies he watches

Betrayal, fistfights, arguments, the whole shebang he would gladly like to avoid with Chris

He resolves to see her at the hangout, have a good time, then never talk to her again

except that doesn’t happen

Somehow she charms another invite out of him, and another, and another

And before he knows it, Josh is in deep

He tries to be subtle about it, inviting her to group outings, asking Chris questions about his sister, real lowkey stuff

When he casually asks her on a date, with just the two of them, they mutually agree it’s best if they keep it quiet for now

And when they officially start going out, they try even harder to hide their relationship until the time is right for Chris to find out

“the right time” ended up being at Holly Becker’s 4th of July party as they made out in the mostly empty hallway

Never in his life had Josh been so freaked out

thankfully, Chris seemed to take it well

It feels like a weight is off his chest now that he can be honest with him again

Plus, now he can go back to making horny jokes without feeling weird about it

(he is dodging Chris’s punches each time he opens his mouth)

Your side of things

You’d always thought Chris’s best friend was kind of cute

Of course, as all childhood crushes go, the best way to show it was in competitiveness and aggression

You absolutely demolished that poor kid in Mario Kart, many times in fact

But when things between your parents got more tense, you stopped being able to hang out as much

It was weird at first, but soon with your new school your mind was filled with other things and you nearly forgot all about that Josh guy your brother always hung out with

Aside from a few photos he posted on his socials or the rare glimpse of them on the weekends, you hardly even saw him

So when the summer of Sophmore year comes up and Chris invites you to go to one of his friend’s infamous parties, the guy is the last person on your mind

You’re in your hottest outfit, your hair and makeup immaculate, your glasses traded for contacts, and ready to let loose

And let loose you do! Before you know it there’s this funny guy who’s kind of cute dancing with you the entire night

and when Chris comes trotting over introducing the guy as his best bud, you giggle a little inside

You’re about to be the main character of one of those brother’s best friend stories, and you can’t wait!

I feel like there's way less risk for you in this, because 1. Chris can’t stay mad at you, and 2. You’re kind of your own person at this point, free to date who you want to

So you gladly accept all of the charming Josh’s invitations to parties and hangouts

and you lean into him when he throws his arm over you at the movies, and laugh as he whispers jokes into your ear

and laugh it off when Chris finds you both in the hallway at Holly Becker’s party, because you know that he won’t stay mad at Josh forever

Lil fun things

You and Josh fight who can have him as your best man/man of honor

(Josh wins and counts that as revenge against the Blue Shell incident of 2006)

Holidays are the best with the two families combined

When you guys announce that you’re pregnant, Chris is ecstatic before being immensely grossed out

He enjoys being the best uncle ever though

I loved writing this! Hope you enjoyed too! Please send more requests!!

[aoioozora]

Formula 1's kinda not the same anymore without Logan Sargeant. I tried to watch the Singapore gp but I literally couldn't. I had nobody to support. I don't feel like watching f1 anymore because he's not there. I like Charles and Carlos, Lando and Oscar, Lewis, Fernando, but Logan had a special place in my heart.

He was the underdog, grinding so hard when everything was against him. He could've quit, he could've thrown in the towel but didn't. I always wondered why I liked him so much, and I realised it now. He was never a quitter. He may not have gotten poles, podiums, or trophies in his f1 career, but he's a winner to me. Winners never quit and quitters never win.

He inspired me, a serial quitter, to never quit.

[chaotic-toasters]

Invisible

TW: Bad-ish mental health

Chelsea!Reader

Ex-UNC!Reader

I don't think this makes any sense but whtvs

-----------------

Transfer to Chelsea, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Well, you said that they were wrong.

You signed for Chelsea under the promise of playing time and friendship, only to be immediately benched and left to wander the halls of Cobham by yourself.

In hindsight, it was a stupid decision to join the Blues. The winning WSL side had no need for you on their already stacked roster, and in no way were you going to be able to compete with the likes of Zecira Musovic and Hannah Hampton.

You'd once been told that only truly deserving and talented people could reach the professional level of a sport, but you were seriously doubting it. You weren't a quitter, but you were genuinely wondering if you should wait for your 23rd birthday next year to announce your retirement or if you should just announce it now. You were still young, and you weren't about to waste any more of your life waiting for your footballing career to blossom.

It was funny, you thought, how the same cycle just kept repeating. When you played in your home state of Chicago for the Red Stars, you'd sat on the bench and watched Alyssa Naeher, your captain and USWNT starting keeper, guard the net, but you'd at least been happy, being good friends with most of your teammates. Then, during your time at Manchester United, Marc Skinner had promised you that you'd play in games against easier opponents. You never did, always internally scolding yourself for believing that he would want to play you. Now, at Chelsea, you were all alone, not a familiar face or start in sight. The only time you'd been in the net during games was in college, where you'd been head of the DoD for UNC. That time was long gone, though.

-----------

"Y/N!" you almost missed Emma calling your name, too busy wondering if anyone would notice if you napped on the bench during the match. It was against Arsenal, but you were practically invisible to your teammates and the media alike.

"Yes?" you glanced up from the ground, only half-paying attention.

"Zecira isn't here and Hannah can't play on with that calf. You're going in."

"Okay." You didn't move, your manager's words not registering in your brain.

She stared at you. "Aren't you gonna go get your gloves?"

"Oh, right." You took off towards the changing room, grabbing your gloves, waterbottle, and blinding-white sweat towel that you'd had for the past three years.

When you went back outside, Emma patted you on the shoulder, offering you a word of advice and reminding you that the score was nil-nil.

It was embarrassingly quiet when you jogged into goal, the only cheers being a few quiet Chelsea fans in a sea of blue. You just shook your head to yourself, bouncing on the balls of your feet as play started up again. No distractions.

------------

A breakaway in the 51st minute had you barking orders at your backline, but none of your defenders were fast enough to catch up. Stina Blackstenius was sprinting at you full-force as you came out of your goal, and though her body shifted to the left and she passed the ball between her feet, you noticed how her eyes momentarily flicked upwards. Your hand instinctively shot up, smacking the ball away like a cat would a toy on a string, and as it flew over the crossbar, the entire stadium was silent other than the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof.

The roar of the crowd rang out seconds later, and the Arsenal players eyed you with a newfound wariness as Steph Catley ran to take the corner kick.

"Hey," someone whispered, nudging you. "That was sick. I knew you still had it in you."

You glanced up and smiled. "Thanks, Foxy."

She ran back, sharing a few words with your other former UNC teammates, Alessia and Lotte, the three of them giving you small smiles as the whistle blew.

You came out of the net again as the ball came flying into the box, jumping up over Blackstenius again and swatting it away once more. The cheers from the Chelsea fans was deafening, drowning out whatever Emma was yelling to you from the sidelines.

Chelsea forwards and Arsenal defenders chased after the ball into the Arsenal half, leaving you, your defenders, and Arsenal forwards in your half. "Hey," Alessia called, giving you a little wave from the edge of your box. "Nice saves."

You waved back. "Thanks."

"You haven't changed a bit from Uni," she commented, jogging away. "Reflexes sharp as ever."

"You haven't changed either," you grinned. "Clumsy as ever."

Her head whipped back around indignantly. "Hey!"

-------------

It was strange being a part of your teammates' conversations. It was as if you'd been invisible before the match, and each save slowly made you appear before their eyes. They'd met you with smiles and claps on the back after the game, all too happy to secure a tie in the wake of losing their first two keepers. You could care less about your current teammates, though. The ones who really mattered were your old ones.

"We totally would have won if Chelsea didn't have you," Emily scoffed jokingly, giving you a light push. "You saved their asses."

You pushed her back with a shit-eating grin, lowering your voice. "I'll be saving your asses instead soon enough."

Lotte spit out her water onto Alessia, who shrieked in disgust. "Really?!"You snickered. "Yeah. Don't tell anyone, though."

Alessia pinched her jersey in her fingers, airing it out. "Have you thought about this? The Chelsea fans aren't going to like that at all. Trust me, I know."

"I don't care," you shrugged. "I'll be happy at Arsenal, and I know I'll get playing time."

"Well, we can't wait to see you at Colney," Lotte grinned. "Arsenal red will look great on you."

You grinned back. "I know it will."

[alcqraz]

★ summary — during a sweltering day at the horse races, anthony bridgerton finds himself rather enchanted by a sharp-witted, and competitive newcomer... however his greatest challenge turned out not quite to be their playful banter but perhaps something deeper than just that. ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem! reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.8k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff? not really. idiots in love except they don't know they're in love...? anthony being anthony?? ★ authors note: excuse my god horrendous writing, i fear i have just come back from a 2 year hiatus and well.. it seems as if all my writing sense have bene diminished into the ends of the earth. also mutuals. i need mutuals please, i need to be insane to someone.

Anthony always enjoyed a heartfelt competition.

Perhaps a bit too much for the likings of others, but it always seemed to be infused with his blood. It all came so naturally to him; there was no need to try. As a young boy, he would compete with his brothers, Benedict having quite a hearty laugh when he would fail to beat him in whatever makeshift game they conjured up. It made it worse for the already tense gentleman because his annoying, bothersome brother would never stop bringing out how he was younger than Anthony during such times.

But he was not a quitter. He never was, and he decided that he never shall be. Anthony perpetually told himself that, and the results always ended up in his favor at the end of the day. Just as victory appeared within his reach, he let it go once more, easily slipping through his fingers in the subsequent round. Anthony has always been perplexed as to why this pattern only ever appeared to surround him or why he only noticed it within himself far too much. 

It seemed quite the same when it came to his love life as well. Taking away the winning part—he never quite seemed to win. Conceivably, Anthony never thought he could truly love someone with his entire being; the sensation felt so foreign and despicable to think about. An acquaintance, he supposed, was something he could settle with. And yet, an admirable acquaintance proved hard to find in this economy. The number of women that lined up for a dance, a date—whatever it may be, were all too simple-minded, credulous, or even dumb, if Anthony really thought about it. None of them appeared to be a suitable partner.

Those thoughts haunted him day and night throughout the season—the wonder if he’ll ever meet anyone well-suited for him, he pondered to himself. Anthony deemed himself rather fortunate that he was a busy man, bustling about a handful of places in need to complete the tasks firsthand. When he had his hands full with some problem, even if it may be pointless, occupied his mind enough for him to forget about his marital issues. Taxation never seemed more interesting to him.

Conversely, he found that it bothered him most during social events. Whereas his problems stood face-to-face against him, sometimes it felt as if it were a direct punch to the gut. With the remaining eligible ladies dwindling, his temper for it all only grew to being far more annoyed than anything else. Any other year, Anthony would’ve respectively enjoyed the horse race that he attended within the company of his brothers, but at this time, his mind had been elsewhere as he mindlessly stumbled his way around the course grounds.

There were a number of people that stood around him, chatting expressively with one an

other. Ladies whispering in hushed tones, their husbands gathered amongst themselves, likely betting against one another. Anthony couldn’t help but to do so himself—a solid bet did him well most days. Although, perhaps, he wasn’t the brightest when it came to the subject despite betting upon the favoured horse.

Anthony tugs heartily at his neckpiece, adjusting the pressure against his throat as it pressed in such a peculiar way that he began to pay some mind to it. He adjusted it so that it was allowed to rest lightly, not entirely choking him out anymore as it had done just moments ago. The effort ended up being weirdly abominable.

Peeved, bothered, and sweaty, he decided sullenly the lemonade that the event offered would not be such a bad idea to him after all. Refreshing was the only word that happened to catch his mind as he politely hurries his way towards where the stand had caught his eye as he made his way into the event. It seems as if half of the people there had a similar idea, heeding from the lengthiness of the line. He could perhaps find some place else to get some refreshments, but if Anthony is being honest, the idea of continuing to walk in this heat whilst unknowing if there even was anything waiting for him out there, wasn’t one that he would immediately jump to. And so he begrudgingly waits.

The sun beats down harshly upon him, and he tirelessly slides off his top-hat to appease the sweat that had begun to cling onto the sides of his forehead. Anthony dabs the beads away silently with the cuff of his coat when no one else is paying any mind to him. He liked to call himself fortunate as the line dissipates fairly quickly, and it is only a few minutes later when he finds himself nearing the refreshments area.

“Cooling, is it not?��� 

It takes Anthony a beat to realize that the sudden intrusion of the voice is addressed towards him. He swivels his head, pivoting himself so he can adjust to the sudden change in position to locate where the sound had come from. He is quick to answer the question as the fine-looking lady standing next to him stares right back into his betrothed soul.

First impressions always stuck near and dear to Anthony, and while usually it would be noted of their personality and not much else, he finds himself in a different situation to the norm. The first thing he notices happens to be the alluring eyes, mysterious with a gaze that would unsettle any person, man or woman. But the expression read differently, a polite smile stretched upon the delicate skin, her fair hair conditioned beautifully for this particular sunny day. Anthony is quick to return the smile, as he had done so many times before in the past. He could regard it as a daily occurrence now.

“Indeed, it is.” His response is considerate, his voice moderately even; it’s as if he were trained for this. And Anthony supposed he quite literally is trained for it. “Especially on a day as sweltering as this.” 

He can faintly hear in the background a man grumbling incoherently about keeping up the line, and he apologetically (although he doesn’t feel very apologetic) responds to the not-so gentleman behind him. He hastily picks his glass, an internal groan erupting in him when a couple of drops spill onto the earthly grass. At least it had avoided his clothing by its means. Anthony had already begun to walk away, lemonade secured, when he noticed the same lady who had engaged him in a brief conversation engaging in the same direction that he was headed. 

“Such events are quite amusing,” Her words are delicate, but they are firm enough for Anthony to know that she stands her ground. She stands ever so beautifully, firm but beautiful, letting her dress flutter slightly into the soft breeze that washes over the course. “I can not say that they were common in my homeland.”

Ah. So that is why Anthony failed to recognize her—a new citizen, or possibly just visiting some family for the season. After all, Mayfair was quite prestigious in its ways if you stood in the high rankings. “So I take that you are not from here?” He questions, even though he already knows the answer.

The lady shakes her head, the hair atop her head bouncing as she does so. “Not quite.” She responded appropriately. She rattles off some place that Anthony had surely never been before, and he nods upon hearing the answer. "I am here visiting, as my cousin kindly offered to host me, and who am I to decline such a gracious invitation?"

The words rolled sweetly off her tongue, as if she were making a harmonious melody. Certainly a clever tongue in her mouth, Anthony could think to himself. “Well then, I must certainly assume that you are here for the season.” 

It was an honest question. The lady looked to be in her earlier years of life, if Anthony really had to make a guess. Fair skin, beautiful features, and a voice as gorgeous as the waves in the ocean—what else would she be doing in Mayfair at this time of the year? It only seemed reasonable to make that assumption. He stands correct when she pushes her head down as an agreement, “Yes.” She says, yet she pauses for a beat before continuing her sentence, "Though I must say, it is quite a considerable departure from what I am accustomed to back home.”

"In a manner most agreeable, I trust?" Anthony says, and the lady smiles approvingly. It was quite a sugary smile, the sort that sat well within the presumably older man. It looked as if the course grounds had gotten crowded by tenfold since Anthony had turned his back, making the exertion towards the stands much harder than what it should’ve been.

“Well, yes.” Whereas, the tone of her voice contradicted what her words have stated. The lady’s eyebrows furrow for a mere moment, as if he were contemplating something of sorts. “Nevertheless, it is quite hard.”

He inclines his head. Anthony could somewhat agree with her words—the season was always stressful, a throatful of things to stress and worry about, a million matters to perfect to attract the best of the best. He had never felt too stressed, perhaps when he was swarmed with tasks to complete for the up-and-coming ball or party, but never on his performance at such events. Anthony believed that is why he suddenly threw himself in as an eligible bachelor, and the best if he may add, was so diminishing. "With a lady such as yourself, I must presume it is not exceedingly difficult."

The lady, which Anthony now realizes that he does not know the name of, blushes a shade of pink that could only be described as warm, like a rose pelting in the wind. She laughs graciously, accepting the compliment with ease. “I must confess, I am flattered, Mr…” Her words trail off as she too comes to realization with the fact she does not know how to address the young gentleman.

“Lord Bridgerton.” He introduces, his voice not in any way condescending as many others may take him on to be.

Anthony takes note of the way the lady’s eyebrows raise up in surprise, followed by the rather flushed look that began to tint at her cheeks. "Oh dear, I beg your pardon, my Lord." Tilting her head down hesitantly as if she were unsure of what formality would be the most appropriate. It almost forces a chuckle out of the Viscount.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Anthony continues on as it is only polite to ask so. 

"Mm, indeed. How remiss of me not to mention it beforehand…” The lady says, letting out a sort of awkward laugh that could be seen as rather affectionate. “My name is Y/n.” The lady states, followed by a surname that Anthony can faintly remember to be as one of the other Viscounts that lived in the city, although he couldn’t quite say he knew the name all too well. Certainly not one that he had talked to on the occasion.

“I see,” Anthony nods along, a faint smile tainted upon his lips before he even knows it himself. “Charming gentleman your cousin is.” He could not say if the man was truly charming, or a gentleman at all, as he had only read a couple lines about it from the Lady Whistledown paper that his family had received a couple of long weeks ago. 

“Charming, indeed.” The words were more so grumbled, as if she didn’t quite agree with the statement. “That is certainly one way to describe him.”

He chuckles at the disdain laced upon her voice. Anthony fairly enjoyed the new sense of emotion—most ladies he had the pleasure of talking with all embellished their compliments in spite of thinking the opposite. Being able to hear an objection that wasn’t sugarcoated heavily; Anthony would think that he notably liked the trait that distinguished Y/n.

The course grounds slowly appear into Anthony’s line of vision as the conversation dies down. The sound of chatter that did come from his or her mouth refilling his ears—excited husbands yelling bets at one another, ladies shaking their heads as so—the look that was etched on their faces would be one that Anthony could appreciate and find humorous.

"I must confess, some of the wagers being placed are rather simplistic in nature." Y/n cuts in through the stillness of their discussion beforehand. A nice conversation starter, but one that would rile many people up. "It appears as though none of these individuals have ever graced a racecourse before! How utterly rash of them to bet upon the favored contender solely because of his popularity."

He can’t help but be taken aback, although once again, her exaggeration was one that could be seen as comical. That is, before he had realized that he himself had also bet upon the favored horse, Nectar, which Anthony assumed the lady was talking about. For a moment, he wonders if her words are pure bullshit, if she was just making conversation with him. It is as if Y/n sees right through him.

“Oh my, do not tell me you have also fallen into the unfortunate trap of betting for Nectar.” Anthony can’t quite place what expression she expresses, but it does not look good. Disappointed, or perhaps pity. 

“Naturally, I betted upon him, it is a sensible bet, and he is a horse of sound character who shall undoubtedly finish with victory this afternoon.” He defends, the tone of his voice sounding rather offended at the plain mention of his unwary wager. Something deep down in him wonders if the lady was indeed right, if he really did not know what he was doing. Again, Anthony could not say he was educated well enough, and admittedly, he had bet upon Nectar due to the favorability of his win. “I have a well placed feeling about him.”

“A feeling?” Y/n’s eyebrow cocks up, the smile on her face now more jovial than polite. “Or is it the choosing of the horse that everyone has chosen? Well, I do suppose that adds to the list of husbands who shall be more than disappointed once the race has concluded.”

“I beg your finest pardon, I have made a strategic bet.” His words are more puncuated than before, suddenly relishing within the first person to truly give him some sort of competition that did not stem from his brothers or family, for that matter. “Nectar is a prized steed. He is quite well bred, highly trained, and, as many other people have shown, well favored.”

Y/n tsks, shaking her head as if she were scolding Anthony as his mother and father had done when he was a young boy. “I must assume you have not considered the quality of the racing course and the weather to assess the true potential? Although these sorts of events are not truly common back in my homeland, I do must say that many of these may just be common sense.”

She knows that her words are stretching the truth, that it wasn’t just common sense, but Y/n must admit that she took delight in having a friendly banter. She climbs up onto one of the wooden bleachers, sitting herself upon the heated seat, with Anthony following quickly behind her. “You see, my cousin had kindly explained to me the expectations of the race, and it is said that Nectar raced well at Doncaster; however, the track conditions were far from the same. A firmer course, if you will. While now, over here…” She pauses to wave her hand at the field of grass in front of her view. “It is much softer, and it is a rather humid day. He will much slowdown in the final leg, giving HighFlyer the much easy victory.”

Anthony scoffs. Foolish? Perhaps. Tinted with truth? Also yes. "Are you merely echoing the words your cousin imparted to you earlier?" He argues as well, Anthony never backed down from a challenge, and this lady was surely challenging him.

“And are you merely saying that I do not know about horse racing because I am a woman?” She tilts her head to look directly at Anthony; the grin that is placed strategically on her face was one that he could not argue with. And he is sure of that when he opens his mouth to bite back, but being blatantly unable to respond with something witty. Oh, that shit-eating smirk that was so easily disguised as a polite smile made Anthony oh-so infuriatingly upset. Upset because she knew what she was doing; upset because, well, he was moderately fond of that smile.

“We shall see then.” 

Famous last words, because well, he is proved to be utterly wrong. The course of disappointed groans that steamed through the crowd, which Anthony would not admit (but was a part of), as HighFlyer flew his way across the finish line were abominably loud. Nectar staggered behind him moments later, but not before the crowd had seen how winded he was by the heat and conditions. 

The lady behind him had laughed in delight, unable to celebrate fully before she must turn towards Anthony to shove it into his face. “I can not say that I have ever beat a viscount before.” Suddenly, all formality that was once there had been gone, destroyed, as if it had never been there in the first place. “I do suppose there is always a first.”

“And a last.” Anthony grumbles under his breath, in hope that Y/n would close off her ears to the harsh criticism. To his luck, she does hear.

“I must concede, you are just like the many men who claim to be gentlemen.” She replies, even though she seemed not to be very upset by the Viscount’s words. If that had been the case, it would have appeared as though Anthony had experienced numerous episodes of frustration—possibly humorous ones, but nonetheless, frustration.. "Unwilling to concede defeat, even when it lies directly at his feet." 

“I am able to concede defeat if the defeat deserves to be conceded.” His words are sharp, even though the smile tugging at his face says different to his own jumble of words. Anthony could not quite help it when he sees her eyes light up with something that he could not describe. “If it dares, look me in the eyes.”

“Ah, is that right, my Lord?” She questions, carrying herself with the confidence that he hadn’t seen in forever. An admirable trait indeed, if Anthony must admit. "Does not defeat gaze directly upon you as HighFlyer is crowned the victor of this afternoon's fine race.”

He sighs. Anthony was never one to be dramatic; he always held himself upright and, in his family's words, rather serious. Still, he had to admit that his gasp was a bit dramatic. “Ah… well.” His words trail off slowly, grimacing at the truth of the lady’s words. “I suppose you are… right this time.” The syllables were uttered slowly, followed by another huff of a breath that he could only feel to himself.

She laughs, that beautiful melody of a laugh. While in many cases, it would be regarded as an unpleasant sound unless it was done so delicately, hers was not delicate, nor was it ungracious. It was as if the notes from every music piece ever composed had all come together to form one masterpiece of a harmony, one that ebbed and flowed in all the right ways. 

“Oh rejoice! What a sound those words are!” Y/n breathes dreamfully. 

The track is far from empty, with many individuals walking over to congratulate the winner, while the others either mourn the losses of their empty wallets, or giggling gleefully over their new-found bundles of heritage. However, the bleachers were starting to thin out, leaving just a select few groups.

There is a sense that weaves through him as he ponders his next move. He could surely just stand himself up, mutter out a respectable goodbye, and leave, yet at the same time, he could not allow himself to just do that. Anthony seemed far better off conversing with this lady than with any other of the ones that he had danced or engaged with in the slightest. The thought made him laugh at his own stupidity, and yet;

"I cannot suppose it would be honorable of me not to inquire if you might attend the Hearts and Flower Ball with me. I trust you have heard of it?" Anthony asks, not just out of politeness but also the small amount of desire he feels for just a beat of a moment. One that felt odd and far too new in his chest, something that he had yet to feel in the weeks that had came, and the weeks yet to come. 

The lady showed a glimpse of astonishment, and Anthony wonders if he had made the right decision upon asking her about it in the first place. "My Lord, are you, perchance, inquiring if you wish to take me on a social outing?" Though even she could hear the tiny quiver that was woven, her voice seemed steady as she spoke.

“I… suppose I am, yes.” He stands with his head gently cocked to the right, extending his hand in consolation. Anthony can feel the regret seeping into his words as they were carefully placed, because God, if she came to deny his request, he was sure he could drop dead on the grass at that given moment. 

“I would love to.” And Anthony would not be able to stop the sigh of relief that washed over him even if he had tried. The tension that creased his forehead, all the way down to his calves, was quickly overridden with a sense of declaration. 

As he wove through the throngs of disassembling guests, waving courteously to the lady that he swore to uncover the mystery of, Anthony finally let himself pry out of dapper smile. For the first time in a while, he felt as if he were winning. Not just a kid-made, pointless game, but something much deeper than he could have ever imagined. Except, this time, he would not allow it to simply just… escape his grasp.

[clairdelunelove]

winning game

itadori yuuji x f!reader

genre: fluff (gamer!yuuji drabble!)

warnings: suggestive, broad gamer lingo, 2k words

synopsis: yuuji's great at everything and, unsurprisingly, he's an amazing gamer. but what happens when he gets a little– say– distracted?

a.n. woAH who wrote this?! hehe but hear me out, I luv watching streams and I lowkey game on the side soo, this was expected. this was HEAVILY inspired by @r5x95r13ros's beautiful art. I apologize for the person I became while writing this. but oh my gosh, did it change me. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

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gamer!yuuji who begs you to sit on his lap while he's gaming because he loves the way you feel on him

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gamer!yuuji who normally doesn’t mind any type of video game genre. it’s fun! just a little hobby that helps him destress after a long day. as long as he has friends that are willing to play, he’s satisfied. however, it’s rather interesting that he seems to do exceptionally well in fps games. it could be due to the fact that he has reflexes like no other. he can and will adapt to any situation, regardless of the fact that he might not have the most experience in the game or he’s still learning the basics. focuses on minor details; like an enemy’s character model glitching through the wall or hearing their footsteps on the floorboards. any hint that’ll pinpoint his enemies location. which is 100% why he’d have his volume turned up to the max. also, he’s a proficient learner. think of him as the type of person that’s automatically skilled at a game even if he’s never played it before. even in real combat, he just has a knack of strategizing ten steps ahead of the enemy team and wins rounds because of it. and he doesn’t possess a competitive drive like some of the ‘rage-quitters’ on his team but he locks in if he manages to make a mistake. he’ll express a sincere, “my bad!” and then douse the entire opposition the next round, making it to the top of the leaderboard. he has this adorable habit where if he unlocks an incredibly rare achievement and you compliment him on the feat, he’ll tilt his head in confusion. just doesn’t grasp how impressive he is. yet he feeds into your praise like if you had a carrot on a stick. beams at you and cheers, “did you see that? did you think it was cool? I can do it again, watch!” 

gamer!yuuji who tries his hardest to stay quiet while he’s on a voice call with friends but you know it won’t last long. you’re relaxing on his small dorm bed, stretched out while scrolling through your phone, and he’s situated at his desk. there’s a controller cradled in his slender fingers. it’s his preferred way of playing fps games and it’s definitely not the easiest (or most frequently used method) but he’s told you that he enjoys the challenge. doesn’t mind not having hotkeys or easy movement to aid him throughout gameplay. hence, causing his skill to be that much more impressive. the neon colors of his pc illuminate the darkened room, creating a glow around his sharp features and his concentration on the screen in front of him gives you the (very) necessary time to appreciatively stare. he’s clad in the dark, hooded zip up jacket that you gifted him for his birthday. you don’t question the logic of how he can hear when his headphones are over the hoodie that’s haphazardly draped over his pink hair. gaze flitting downward, you’re gnawing on your lower lip when the black tank top yuuji’s wearing does little to conceal his collarbones and the prominent dip of his chest. and the attractive sight is almost enough for you to excuse the raucous callouts that leave his lips. “flanking in,” he announces as he subconsciously leans closer to his screen to get a better view, “crap! they’re baiting! to your right!” and he tries to lessen the intensity of his voice– he really does– but he’s caught in the thrill of being the last person alive on his team. 

gamer!yuuji who’s justification for loading into another match is, “it’ll be quick, promise!” he always keeps his promises to you and this is no exception. though, through his headphones, his friends are loudly pleading for him to play another round. and you just don’t have the heart to tell yuuji to turn their request down. “you can play another, yuu. I can wait,” you suggest with a knowing smile. he moves to pull the headset’s mic away and his lips are pulled into a small frown. his words are soft as he asks, “you sure? I can always tell them I gotta spend time with my girl, ya know. they’ll understand.” and there’s a heat that engulfs you at his casual endearment for you that he uses with his friends. you hum, aware that yuuji deserves to relish in some alone time, “yup! don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you’re done.” after your answer, he seems to contemplate your decision because his brows are furrowed. there’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you recognize and know that he’s come up with a consensus. finally, he leans in his seat to press a delicate kiss on your cheek and murmurs a proposal that benefits the both of you, “sit on my lap for this round, will you? jus’ wanna hold you while I’m playing.” and to prove his point, he swivels his chair in your direction. it's a dangerous game he's playing but he hasn't caught on yet. instead, he moves to spread his legs to make enough room for you, his sweatpants causing the motion to be effortless, and ushers you to him with a pat to his thigh. 

gamer!yuuji who doesn’t feel the slightest bit of embarrassment or shame when his friends clown him over voice chat for whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he’s enamored by you! thinks that he received a literal blessing when the two of you started dating because, like, you’re perfect! and if you don’t share his sentiment then he’ll continually show you that you’re the only one for him. thus, he feels obligated to remind you every single chance he has. “you’re so pretty,” he coos when you’re seated on his lap. his chest is pressed against your back and quite frankly, it’s almost too surreal for him. this angle is, also, absolutely ideal for him to shower you with the praise and attention that you deserve. and goodness, yuuji makes certain of it. he implores you by lifting your chin with his index finger, his touch is gentle. however, the gaze that he settles upon you is heavy. “the prettiest,” he slurs, “all f’me, right?” and this man has his mic unmuted the entire time. of course his friends are quick to tease him, tossing in their own complaints of, “c’mon man!” or “get a room, lovebirds!” but yuuji’s on cloud nine when you’re in his lap like this. you, on the other hand, are the epitome of flustered. you’re reminded of the breadth of his physique because while he’s not necessarily the biggest male in the world, he’s still brawny. with his sleeves pushed up to his forearms, he reaches around you to grab his controller again and utters a teasing, “aw, you guys are haters,” to his friends. unperturbed by their protests, he leans closer, lulled by your saccharine perfume, and rests his head on your shoulder. just a moment of peace shared between the both of you. his arms come around to encase you in a warm embrace, sweetly asking if you’re comfortable, and before long he’s loading up into another game. 

gamer!yuuji who, while waiting for his teammates to rez him, rests his large hands on your thighs. it’s almost alarming how natural the action is. the scenario that usually happens is that he ends up swearing when his character dies, places his controller down, and dives right back into latching onto your thighs. finds pleasure in how soft you are between his strong fingers. “you need anything? water? snacks?” he asks, ready to do anything for your comfort. his fingertips lovingly trace circles on the curve of your upper thighs as he waits for your answer. a mischievous grin dances on his face when he quickly adds, “more kisses?” and his eagerness causes you to giggle as you teasingly push him away when he drifts toward you. “if you win the game I’ll give you a kiss,” you offer and his eyes light up at your words. but then he’s pouting, “but I haven’t kissed you all day!” and you would’ve felt guilty, given his wide eyes and somber dip of his pretty lips, if it wasn’t for the fact that he already has. “you just gave me a kiss, yuu,” you remind him while you’re still comfortably tucked into his chest. “that was just a kiss on the cheek,” he clarifies and huffs like it was obvious, “let me make it up to you now.” but he’s interrupted by one of his friends hollering for him to focus and you’re a fit of giggles when he outwardly sulks. “they need their star player,” you croon. 

gamer!yuuji who’s reduced to sloppy aim/bad callouts because you’re whispering praises and pressing hot kisses on his neck. you didn’t think it’d end up like this but you can’t help but purr, “did so good, yuu. I’m so proud of you,” when he manages to wipe the opposing squad. and at the recognition, he readjusts himself in his seat and nods to himself. like he’s not expecting the low drawl in your tone. or how warm you are in his lap. there’s a foggy daze in his eyes when you angle yourself closer to him so it’d be easier to cheer him on. “hah, you’re proud of me?” he repeats, eyes glued to the screen in hopes of hearing your pretty voice again. you hum, drawing yourself into the junction of his neck and pressing a sticky kiss at the sensitive spot, “mhm, so proud.” he almost drops his controller, scrambling to regain hold on it, and clears his throat at his mishap when his friends comment on it. his ears are tinged red and he weakly breathes out your name. a warning? a plea for more? you’re not sure but it’s hypnotic the way his eyes droop until they’re half-lidded. it’s when you nip at his neck that he smacks a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan that threatens to leave his lips. “not fair,” he rasps as he misses his shots due to your teasing. his team is losing and their star player is slowly losing his concentration the more the match goes on. you trail kisses along the expanse of his neck, reveling in how he squirms from underneath you. he’s melting. fully dizzy when you press another open-mouthed kiss below his jaw. the game ends with yuuji winning but that’s not his biggest victory at the moment. scrambling to mute himself on his mic, he pivots his attention to you, big brown eyes captivated in yours, and pleads, “please kiss me, baby.” his voice is syrupy and thick, like it’s cemented in his throat. the headphones that he wears are immediately discarded. his hands automatically trail down to hold onto your waist, coercing you even closer in his tight hold. he hovers above your glossy lips, fully mesmerized, and he sweetly begs some more, “please.” 

gamer!yuuji who decides it’s his turn to punish you with his own teasing since he won the game. his hands are all over you, smearing along your body in an attempt to memorize the shape. then, he lifts you up, manhandling you so that your legs are on either side of him. now, you’re finally facing him. he does it with ease. a swoop of his strong arms and you're exactly where he wants you. “this’ll be better,” he voices, mostly to himself. likes the weight of you on him. keeps him grounded. yet you can’t help but notice that even his voice is intoxicating. desperate. it almost borders a groan. he gently presses down on your thighs, efficiently laying you over his lap so you’re flush against him. a slow exhale passes his lips at the contact and you’re hyper-sensitive to how rough the fabric of his sweatpants are. hot, heavy– him. he huffs, amused yet greedy, when you weakly whine. and he considers that his earlier speculation was correct. you’re the prettiest like this; cheeks flared with desire and fingers needily tugging at him. he’s not any better. blushy hair a tousled mess and a tinge of red dusting across his face. there are hearts in his eyes. the air between the two of you is suffocating. but he breathes you in like he’s deprived and he’s finally getting his fill now. “gonna let me play with you now, pretty girl?” his breathing is raspy, rising at the ends of it like you have a grip on him that you’re unaware of. he brings a calloused hand up and drapes it along your neck. it's so large in comparison that his thumb brushes along your nape. feels you gulp beneath the press of his fingertips and you're going cross-eyed from mapping out the veins on his hands. and he might ask you about it after. or he might use it as leverage later on. a fact is known though. unknowingly, you flipped a switch within him and this time he won’t lose.

[theladybrownstarot]

A HAPPY NEWS FROM MY SIDE

Namaste people ! How are you doing all ? I hope you all are doing good , even if you aren't then always remember that there's opportunity every where to grow only if we see then act for it by changing our perception and not giving it up.

Similarly , today I won - National Hindi Talent Award / राष्ट्रीय हिन्दी प्रतिभा award on international level . I gave my attempt in 2024 like around August or september and literally I had no expectations to win or do something extraordinary because I was sick that day and was about to almost miss it . But it turned out something else , I won't deny the fact that I manifested it wholeheartedly working for it .

Someone said true, winners never quit and quitters never win .

Let me tell you Before this , I gave my first attempt in 2021- I won a silver but couldn't receive it till now because of corona then people forgot about it , then I gave it in 2023 - didn't achieved very great just some decent marks with no as such special position and then lastly in my last year I gave it in my terrible sick state , I told myself that, " yahan tak aayi hu abh piche mud ke nahi dekhungi - I will give my best shot"/I have come this far and will not look back now – I will give my best shot” . Then after months, around Jan I was giving my examination then headed to washroom till then my teacher called me saying- congratulations, you did it ! During this time I was hopeless because I couldn't achive my other goals but this new has again made me motivated internally to do my best , so do not give up, just stay silent working hard and let the success make it's noise !

Picture:

[shivayagojo]

MONACO GP, stressed out

masterlist

avaflorence + lewishamilton

Team 44 is proud to announce a collaboration with Ava Florence in our next set collection. The set will feature 44 different statement pieces designed by Lewis Hamilton and Ava Florence, which will promote the 44x95 identity, as well as give young fashion designers a chance to blossom. We are super excited for the coming collection. Look out for more.

see comments below

user01: HELP— they're too iconic ✨ ↳user02: perks of being a 7x champion and a rookie sensation is you get unlimited swagger

user03: Seeing Hamilton and Florence collab was not my bingo list.

user04: SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY 💸 ↳user05: I'm going to be camping out on their website for this release to drop ↳user06: literally don't dare if it's gonna drain my wallet, it's Florence and Hamilton!

avaflorence: Kachow! ⚡️ ↳liamawson: Please have Lightning McQueen merch! ↳user07: not lawson 🤣 ↳user08: I can't tell who he's fangirling more for: McQueen or Ava.

oscarpiastri: Not sure if I'll ever get to wear them, but I'll purchase a few pieces. ↳avaflorence: You're literally the best! ↳user09: Oscar is Ava's biggest fan 🫢

user09: I love how Ava gets basically the whole post, but it's written from Team44 ↳avaflorence: tbf, it was my idea

youtube.com

Porsche F1 | 10 Questions With Ava Florence

"Hi everybody. I'm Ava Florence; I race for the Porsche Formula 1 something-something racing team and today we're doing 10 Questions With Ava Florence... which is me, by the way. In case you didn't catch that."

"HOW DID YOU GET INTO RACING?"

"My dad was a hobbyist racer. He drove motorcycles, not cars. So obviously he tried to get us into racing bikes, but me and my brother always liked cars. So one Christmas, he got us a Go-Kart. We could only afford one Go-Kart. So me and my brother would share it on the weekends and just race around this small street by our house. It was probably the coolest thing to six year old me, and that's when I fell in love with racing. I started karting in leagues and then moved up into racing series and the rest is history. My brother now races in F2, so that's cool... I'm still better than him. That hasn't changed."

"WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE TEAM GROWING UP?"

"Ferrari. Growing up near Germany, everybody there was a Ferrari fan because of Schumacher and Seb. So, I also grew up a Ferrari fan. I loved watching them win, which wasn't a lot of times to be fair. But it was really nice to see the Ferrari flag being waved in Monza or something like that. Obviously now, my job is to make sure that doesn't happen. But like Seb said, 'everybody is a Ferrari fan.'"

"WHAT CHALLENGES DID YOU FACE AS A WOMEN IN MOTORSPORT?"

"A lot. I don't like getting too much into it, but it was much different than what my brother is going through. Sometimes it's drivers or somebody in the paddock who treats you differently. In some cases, I was denied participation in a racing series. But whatever it was, I always kept my head high because I knew I had people like my Dad supporting me every step of the way, and I didn't want to let them down by quitting. That's the one thing I don't want to be. A quitter. I'd rather try and fail, than be a loser who never stepped up."

"WHAT'S THE MOST STRESSFUL PART OF BEING AN F1 DRIVER?"

"Probably when you're not thinking about the race. You're driving 200+ mph and you have to think about the pitstop strategy, tire management, who's ahead, who's behind. Sometimes, you want to just stop thinking and drive."

"WHAT'S THE BEST PART OF BEING AN F1 DRIVER?"

"Definitely being able to travel to different countries and seeing the fans there. Back home in Belgium, I know the people there, and I know that they support me and cheer me on. But it's exciting to go another country like Australia or Italy and see people there support to you too. It makes you feel good knowing people across the world are cheering you on every race. So, I try to win every race for them."

"YOU HAVE A LONG FLIGHT AHEAD. WHICH TWO DRIVERS ARE YOU TAKING WITH YOU?"

"Probably Charles because he's easy to make fun of. Especially when I recite his memes to him. I've got like a whole collection on my phone. So, it's free real estate in his head. And then probably Max... because he'd start yapping when we run out of things to talk about. Maxsplaining. But I am worried by like hour two, I'm gonna start third-wheeling for these two."

"FAVORITE TRACK THAT ISN'T YOUR HOME RACE?"

"Probably Brazil. It's probably the perfect track after Spa. It's got fast corners, slow corners, perfect places to overtake. It's amazing on Saturday, but even better on Sunday. Plus, like home, it always rains there. Who doesn't love racing in the rain?"

"DRIVER YOU WOULD LIKE TO GO TO A PUB WITH?"

"Bwoah."

"WHAT IS IT LIKE MEETING THE DRIVERS YOU WATCHED ON SCREEN?"

"Weird, but also exciting. I went from correcting everyone by saying 'Sir' Lewis Hamilton to now calling him Lulu. It's amazing I get to be friends with these drivers. Also, Nando is just soft grandpa."

"HOW MANY RACES ARE YOU GOING WIN?"

"Hopefully all of them."

porschef1

Is it a good time to reveal that we have merch?

see comments below

user01: Porsche social media is just playing 4D chess ↳user02: how have they not missed on a single post? It's unfair 😩

user03: pls I'm going to be homeless if I keep spending more money on F1 merch ↳user04: already sold my kidney for this ↳user05: imagine wasting on your life in F1 merch (couldn't be me 👀)

scuderiaferrari: These aren't bad, but they would be better in red. ↳porschef1: Funny how one of your drivers was sporting one of these ↳user06: Not Lewis betraying the Scuderia for Ava already 😬 ↳user07: can't blame at all

scuderiaferrari: Porsche admin, a bet- if Ferrari wins, you wear our merch and we go on a date ↳porschef1: If Porsche wins, you wear our merch ↳scuderiaferrari: Deal. ↳user08: Are we interrupting something? ↳user09: weird way to propose, but you go ferrari admin

user10: Guys, I found the Ferrari and Porsche admins ↳user11: Don't be shy. Drop the @

AVA WISHED she could forgot the Free Practice Sessions. But she couldn't. It hadn't been that long since she raced in Monaco. Hell, she even won in tracks she's never raced in before. So, why was Monaco giving her hell? Consistently in the back of grid during FP1 and FP2, and crashing against the barriers in FP3. Worse, she called the circuit overrated. Perhaps this was karma. The curse of Monaco had split from Charles and crept over to her, tired of the disrespect. After rolling the car back in and settling down for Friday, she made the worst mistake she could: she opened social media. And she saw everything. The doubters, the haters, the naysayers finally had solid proof to call her out. They came out in full swing, like starved goblins seeing blood for the first time. Ava couldn't help but feel this was warranted. She could not keep up with the rest of the pack. It killed her inside.

f1

Fitted and suited for the Monaco Fashion show. It's all decided her on Sunday. Take your pick for Pole Position.

see comments below

user01: Leclerc broke his curse last year. It's time for back to back wins ↳user02: Don't know much P5 is gonna do for him.

user03: Tell me why Williams were in the top 10 during practice?? ↳user04: Cuz it's practice? Lmao itdoesn't matter in the race ↳user05: Latiffi flashbacks

user06: Florence finally stopped getting lucky 🤡 ↳user07: Oh boohoo. One bad race ↳user08: fr her streak is finally over ↳user09: Y'all said the same thing about Hamilton and looked what happened

          HAMILTON IS BACK ON TOP. That's a saying that millions of fans around the world were waiting to hear and once they came from Crofty's mouth, it brought cheer and joy to the stages of Monaco. What didn't bring them joy was their resident hero not being able to make Q3 after Antonelli's crash brought out a yellow flag and killed his qualifying. Ferrari wanted both men in the top 10, especially since both drivers have won this Grand Prix before. But now, their eyes were on Hamilton and ensure his victory. Better yet, Ava Florence was not there to steal pole. Well, not quite-

          AVA MADE IT TO Q3. She dug and crawled her silver Porsche to every next session. She knew her struggles, but it was easing. With every lap, every corner, she was learning the track all over again, trying to find the optimized line. But if anything added salt to her wound, both Williams made it into the top 10. WILLIAMS. Yet she, the championship leader, barely could?

"Hamilton is currently on pole and with three minutes to go, it looks he'll remain in pole. There's only one driver out on the track. Ava Florence. Her final lap. This hasn't been her afternoon. This hasn't been her track. Let's see what she makes of it today."

"Here we go, Crofty. Turn 1. Not the easiest of first turn. Be careful not to lock up. She doesn't. Now to Beau Rivage. Then onto Massanet... just get extremely close to the barrier and look at how close she gets. She's taking risks and, surely, she has to if she wants a shot at putting up a fight today at Monte Carlo. At Fairmont Harpin, down to 30 mph, the slowest corner in F1. Narrow. Tight. She gets out beautifully. To Portier and then down the tunnel. Crofty, she's doing wonderful."

"You would have a hard time convincing anyone that just ten minutes ago, this girl was struggling to make it into Q3. Look at how she's flying. Green sectors around. Through the Nouvelle Chicane. We saw Verstappen make up the time needed for pole here in 2023. Will 2025 be Ava's turn? Only time will tell. She slides beautifully through the Swimming Pool chicane. And just three more corners. La Rascasse and Anthony Noghes. Ava Florence, the championship leader, rookie sensation, cursed by Monaco, what time does she get today.... POLE POSITION! BY ALL ODDS, AVA FLORENCE HAS FOUGHT THROUGH THE CORNERS OF MONTE CARLO. AND ONCE AGAIN, IT WILL BE FERRARI IN DESPAIR AS AVA TAKES POLE POSITION FROM HAMILTON."

"That last sector was the closest thing to perfection I've ever seen. She gained tremendous time and I'm sure Hamilton is going to be have a hard look at the qualifying lap over and over again. How do you go from struggling in Q1 to pole position? Only Ava Florence knows."

HENRY And that is pole position for Sunday!

FLORENCE YES! OH MY GOD! YES! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

f1

Getting vintage with Ava Florence's pole lap in Monaco.

tagged: avaflorence

see comments below

user01: How on earth did she pull that off? ↳user02: I was watching qualifying Hamilton's in pole and then BAM 💥 ↳user03: because she's an icon

user05: The lap of the season! ↳user06: The lap of the decade ↳user07: The lap of the century ↳user08: The lap of F1 history

user09: RIP to yet another Hamilton pole 🪦 ↳user10: Hamilton leading the timing sheets gives Ava +10 attributes during qualifying

user10: She's winning the championship idc

MONACO GRAND PRIX STARTING GRID

AVA FLORENCE

LEWIS HAMILTON

SEBASTIAN VETTEL

CARLOS SAINZ

ALEXANDER ALBON

GABRIEL BORTOLETO

OSCAR PIASTRI

NICO HULKENBERG

LANDO NORRIS

MAX VERSTAPPEN

GEORGE RUSSELL

LANCE STROLL

LIAM LAWSON

FERNANDO ALONSO

CHARLES LECLERC

ANDREA KIMI ANTONELLI

OLLIE BEARMAN

YUKI TSUNODA

FRANCO COLAPINTO

ESTEBAN OCON

ISACK HADJAR

PIERRE GASLY

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the eighth round of the 2025 Formula 1 season and we are here in Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. It just wouldn't be a Formula 1 season without coming to the beautiful streets of Monte Carlo. Saturday gave us a whirlwind of a qualifying, but first, let's a take a look at the track. 78 laps await us on a 3. 3 kilometer street circuit. We have one DRS zone located at the exit of Anthony Noghes and through the pit straight. And of course, the lap record set by Lewis Hamilton at 1:12. 909 in 2021. Joining me now is Martin Brundle."

"Yup. Just back from the grid. Exciting stuff to be shaping up. Monaco, as you know, not the easiest track to pass on. So, tire strategy is key here. All the teams, we're predicting, are one a one-stop strategy though there's debate on which one stop strategy is the best."

"That debate will be put to rest shortly as the drivers head out on their formation laps. Looking at the tire. All of the top ten drivers have to start on medium compound C4 tires. The bottom twelve have a choice to make as we see. Leclerc, Antonelli, and Ocon on the harder compound tires. Our pole sitter, Ava Florence, who had a shocking pole position lap yesterday leads back. I wonder how she'll cope with this situation. Monaco wasn't giving her the best of gifts. Though it did give her pole."

"As long Ava gets a good jump off the line, she'll have a relatively easy time staying in front thanks to the narrow track. Then again, safety cars are always an issue at Monaco. That would really makes pole position an unsettling feeling."

"Certainly, Martin as now the last of the drivers line up on the grid. Here we go. Round 8 in Monte Carlo. IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! Hamilton is already gunning at Florence. Vettel is good off the line too. The two Williams behind. Close contact between Bortoleto and Piastri. Down they head to Turn 1. It's Hamilton so close to Florence- OH! THERE'S CARNAGE IN THE BACK! THERE'S SMOKE EVERYWHERE! WHAT HAS HAPPENED? Up ahead, Florence is still leading. It's yellow flags! And it's a catastrophic end to Esteban Ocon, Isack Hadjar, and Pierre Gasly's race. Hadjar and Gasly will fail to score points once again. And Ocon, after two brilliant races, will be knocked in the first lap."

"It looks like Gasly was trying to get past Hadjar, but he had just some sort of brake failure and rammed right into the back of the Racing Bull and that took out Ocon too. So, the safety car is deployed now. And that's going to help Florence just a bit because it means it cuts down the amount of the laps Hamilton has to gain her."

"But how many laps can you really survive with Hamilton chasing you down. You said, Martin, it is a tricky track to overtake on, but when you have someone as experienced and prone to winning as Hamilton, there's still going to be a shred of doubt in your mind as how you're going to keep your pole position."

LAP 7:

"After 6 laps behind the safety car, we're heading back to racing. Just to recap, Ocon, Hadjar, and Gasly are out of the race. So now we've got 19 cars running in the race. The safety car comes in and there's Ava Florence bunching up the pack. When will she go?... Now. Ava Florence is off. Good restart from her, covered quite a gap to Hamilton because now Vettel will be all over the back of that Ferrari. Behind, it's Albon and Sainz in a battle of their own. The two Williams who found themselves in the top 10 in Saturday scuffling. Out the Casino square the come and spiraling down the Fairmont Hairpin. And look at Vettel relentless on that Ferrari."

"Hamilton has two games to play now. Chasing Ava and defending against Vettel. Very tricky indeed. Behind the, Bortoleto and Piastri are in the same predicament. So, two exciting battles to look forward too."

HENRY We need to make these tires last as long as possible.

FLORENCE I don't think they'll go as long as you think, but I'll try

LAP 14:

"At the Nouvelle Chicane, Leclerc is going to be looking to make his move. He's been hounding Alonso for the past few laps, and now he's got his nose alongside the Aston Martin. They're side by side through the chicane - Leclerc on the inside, Alonso giving him just enough space. And Leclerc's through! Brilliant move from the Ferrari driver, who's now up to 14th place!"

"That's vintage Leclerc, isn't it? He's always been a master of these streets, and he's showing why once again. But he's not done yet - he's already closing in on Lawson ahead. Lawson did not get the gap to Alonso he wanted and he's going to pay for it because Leclerc is charging. He's about 1.6 seconds faster than Lawson."

LAP 28:

"Verstappen has been all over the back of Norris for the last few laps. He's getting a bit angsty now, isnt' he? He's trying to squeeze through on the inside at Hairpin! That's tricky to pull off. Norris is holding his line - oh, they've touched! Verstappen's front wing has clipped Norris's rear tire. That is not good for the Red Bull. That looks like major damage.

VERSTAPPEN I've got damage! This idiot!

GP Box immediately, Max!

"Verstappen's going to have to pit for a new front wing. That's a disaster for Red Bull, he'll be dropping well down the order. Norris seems to have escaped unscathed, but race control will surely be looking at that incident."

"Definitely. That looked like Norris just went a tad too far inside to squeeze out Verstappen. Seems dangerous if you ask me so let's see what the stewards think of it."

LAP 35:

"Sebastian Vettel is the first of our frontrunners to pit! The Porsche team has executed a flawless stop, but he's rejoining behind both Williams cars. That's going to be a tough ask for Vettel to get back on the podium."

"Meanwhile, at the front, Florence and Hamilton are still going strong. Their engineers told them to push for five or so more laps. It's becoming a game of tire management. Hamilton is pushing hard, trying to force Florence into a mistake or early pit stop. But the young Belgian is holding firm, matching Hamilton's pace lap after lap. Hamilton is just a tad bit faster, but not enough for overtaking."

LAP 42:

"Florence is in! Ava Florence pits from the lead. It's a clean stop, but will it be enough? Hamilton stays out, pushing hard on his worn mediums."

"And there's the call - Hamilton is in on the very next lap! It's going to be close as he exits the pit lane. Florence is charging down the start-finish straight, and... Hamilton just about gets out in front! But Florence is right on his gearbox as they head into Sainte Devote!"

LAP 43:

"Hamilton is in the pits - My goodness that was fast. Just what he needs because he didn't quite build enough of a gap to Florence. He's wobbling out the pitlane. There's Ava Florence. We can see her coming now. Is Hamilton ahead? He takes the safety road out... He's ahead! Oh the overcut worked for Ferrari. Hamilton will remain the lead!"

FLORENCE F***!

HENRY Don't worry about it, Ava. We still have a chance.

"A chance she does, but how big of a one?"

"Florence is all over the back of the Ferrari through Sainte Devote. She's going to get DRS on this lap. The gap is mere inches."

LAP 47:

"Florence gets a great run out of the tunnel. Look at that slipstream. Pulls alongside into the Nouvelle Chicane. Leclerc got the overtake done here before. But Hamilton holds the inside line firmly! Hamilton, the seven time champion, showing the rookie all his experience. She took the win from in Imola. He won't have that again."

"Is Hamilton's pace dropping though? We're seeing that Florence is three tenths faster on every lap. So, maybe the hard tires on Florence are more up to temperature than Florence or she's just managing them better."

LAP 50:

"Ava Florence just sets the fastest middle sector of the Grand Prix. She's flying out there in P2 and I'm sure she has plans to get into P1. Look at how she's just sticking to Hamilton. There's a lot of downforce here and she's using that her absolute advantage. She's on his gearbox! And oh- That could've been a disaster for both drivers."

"Florence had to lift off to avoid a collision at Rascasse. That was a good reaction. But you're right Crofty. That could've been race ending for both drivers. At this stage of the Grand Prix, you don't want that."

LAP 58:

"Florence goes around the outside at Casino Square. They're side by side, literally inches apart! What will Hamilton do? Hamilton just edging ahead as they spiral down to Mirabeau. The crowd is absolutely electric! INCREDIBLE MOMENT!"

"These are the moments that define careers. Florence is showing she's not just here to participate - she's here to compete. She just does not care if that's Hamilton in Monaco. She's just going go for it every time. And that's exciting for us race fans."

LAP 67:

"Hamilton's defending like a champion now. Florence is trying everything - left, right, probing for any weakness. Through the tunnel they go, and she's right on his tail! Braking for the chicane - OH! Hamilton with an impossibly late brake. Florence has to yield!"

LAP 73:

"Florence is still desperately hunting for a way past Hamilton. The race is in it's closing stages. They're climbing up the hill towards Casino Square, Florence getting a great exit from Massenet. She's closer than ever! Through Casino Square they go, Florence is right on Hamilton's gearbox. OH MY GOODNESS, SHE'S ALONGSIDE! Florence has the outside line, she's inching ahead! Down they plunge towards Mirabeau, neither driver willing to give an inch. Hamilton's trying to squeeze her to the inside, but Florence is having none of it. They're wheel-to-wheel, you could barely fit a sheet of paper between them!"

"She's picking the most tricky parts to overtake as Into the hairpin they go, still side-by-side!"

"What are we watching here Martin? Florence on the inside now, Hamilton trying to hang on around the outside. She's got the line. Can she get the position? OUT OF THE HAIRPIN, AND FLORENCE IS IN FRONT! SHE'S DONE IT! Ava Florence has taken the lead with just five laps to go! What a move, what a drive! The crowd is on their feet, the Tifosi are losing their minds!"

"Florence has done it! She's in clean air now, and if she can hold on for five more laps, we could be witnessing one of the great Monaco victories! Pole position by a near impossible lap, and now a near impossible overtake to win."

FINAL LAPS:

"And here we go, into the final three laps of this Monaco Grand Prix! Ava Florence leads, but Lewis Hamilton is not done yet. Hamilton's got a phenomenal exit out of Rascasse. Florence weaving, trying to break that tow. Hamilton's looking left, looking right, but Florence positions her car perfectly into Sainte Devote. Brilliant defensive driving!"

"If you told me that this was the driver struggling during Free Practice and Q1 and Q2 on this track, I would ask you to see a mental hospital. This is just superb driving. I know we aren't supposed to be biased towards a driver, but I think we're all really rooting for Florence to win this."

"What's that thing Sebastian Vettel once said? 'Everybody is a Ferrari fan.' Well, everybody is an Ava fan. Hamilton is throwing everything at this! But Ava is not letting up. He's all over the back of Florence through Massenet, through Casino Square. Down to Mirabeau they come, and HAMILTON'S GOING FOR IT! He's diving to the inside! He's going for the same move Florence did on him. Florence sees him coming, leaves just enough space. They're side by side through the hairpin! Florence hangs on, incredible stuff!"

"I think Florence knew that move was coming mostly because she did the same thing to him. She was like 'No, thank you. I know how to defend this.'"

...

"Florence leads by just half a second as they cross the line. Hamilton's pushing hard, he's gaining through Massenet, through Casino Square. He's lightning quick on those corners. They dive into the tunnel, Hamilton's right in Florence's slipstream! Out of the tunnel they come, Hamilton tries to go to the outside into the Nouvelle Chicane. Florence defends brilliantly! Through the Swimming Pool complex, Rascasse, Florence is holding on! Porsche pit crew holding on their seats. Final corner, Anthony Noghes, Florence gets a perfect exit! Down the straight they come, Hamilton's trying everything, but IT'S NOT ENOUGH! AVA FLORENCE WINS THE MONACO GRAND PRIX! What a drive, what a race! Florence takes her maiden Monaco victory by just three-tenths of a second! Incredible scenes here in Monte Carlo!"

"These are the kinds of drives that make you realize that a driver is truly special. I can't imagine the weight of the expectations on her head. First female driver, driving for a new team, rookie, and leading the championship. And to pull a performance like that is just absolutely brilliant."

HENRY That was the Grand Prix of a life time!

FLORENCE YEAH! F*** YES! OH MY F****** GOD! WOOH!

MONACO GRAND PRIX RESULTS

AVA FLORENCE (+25) LEWIS HAMILTON (+18) SEBASTIAN VETTEL (+15) CARLOS SAINZ (+12) ALEXANDER ALBON (+10) GABRIEL BORTOLETO (+8) NICO HULKENBERG (+6) OSCAR PIASTRI (+4) LANDO NORRIS (+2) MAX VERSTAPPEN (+1)

GEORGE RUSSELL CHARLES LECLERC LIAM LAWSON FERNANDO ALONSO ANDREA KIMI ANTONELLI LANCE STROLL OLLIE BEARMAN YUKI TSUNODA FRANCO COLAPINTO

ESTEBAN OCON (DNF) ISACK HADJAR (DNF) PIERRE GASLY (DNF)

f1

Monaco winner Ava Florence has a nice ring to it.

see comments below

user01: HOLY SHIT SHE DID IT! ↳user02: RAAH AVA FLORENCE FOR WDC!!

user04: Only a rookie and already producing some of the greatest wins in F1 ↳user05: She somehow made the Monaco GP watchable ↳user06: She's definitely going to the wind the championship 💯

porschef1: @/scuderiaferrari ur turn ↳scuderiaferrari: But... Hamilton was second? ↳user07: Omg pls post the pictures of the bet

user07: Ava + Hamilton + Vettel + Willaims in the top 10 ↳user08: I think I'm in some alternate universe cuz wtf was this? 😆

williamsracing: What about us? ↳user09: You were amazing! Vamos Sainz 🫶

avaflorence

Sorry for calling you overrated Monaco.

see comments below

user01: No YOU made Monaco watchable this year! ↳user02: That overtake on Hamilton was CRAZY

user03: It's confirmed — you're going to win the championship ↳user04: 4 wins alr is crazy

sebastianvettel: We told you got this. Congrats 🎉 ↳avaflorence: Thank you Papa Seb🙏 ↳fernandoalonso: Hey, don't forget about me. ↳avaflorence: Yes yes u were great to Sigmando Alonso ↳user05: lmao what is this family tree? 🤣

porschef1: Thank you for helping me win the bet ↳avaflorence: Ur cheating one me tho 😡

scuderiaferrari + porschef1

[Text]: Compromised

↳user01: SO PRETTY 😍

↳user02: Its a good day to be a Ferrari and Porsche fan

↳avaflorence: ur cheating on me ↳porschef1: luv ya too 🥰

WORLD DRIVERS CHAMPIONSHIP

WORLD CONSTRUCTOR CHAMPIONSHIPS

taglist: @freyathehuntress @allthings-fandoms

[whatdoidosatoru]

wanna be good

sam (stardew valley)/reader | ao3 sam makes a bet with sebastian that he can last two minutes in your mouth… he may have been overconfident wc: 1.5k cw: blow job, hand job, overstim, praise kink, sam is a good boy, a bit of cum play if you squint 18+ MDNI

it all started with a bet.

sam usually isn’t one to make bets he knows he’ll lose. not that he wins much, but at least he’s got enough self-preservation skills to avoid the situations he knows will end badly for him.

usually .

there are a lot of things to be said about sam, but one thing is certain – jodi didn’t raise a quitter. so when his stamina is brought into question – bet you can’t last two minutes in this one’s mouth, sebastian pointed at you, promptly chuckling as your mouth curled into a smirk – he jumps to defend himself. why of course he can last, he can last hours, all night even. okay, he’s not that delusional, but he is itching to prove sebastian wrong for once, to beat him at something . 

“fuck, don’t do that–” sam pants, his face is already reddened as he looks down at you. big mistake. huge, actually. he should’ve kept his eyes shut, because one glance at your face, your lips wrapped tightly around his cock and eyes wide as you look up at him from your seat on the floor between his knees, and he’s gone . your damn eyes, they flutter as if asking whatever he means by that, as if you don’t know what you’re doing to ruin him. “your t-tongue… that wasn’t p-part of the deal!” he groans, throwing his head back. why was he that much of an idiot, thinking he could last, it’s been ten fucking seconds, the very moment your damn tongue grazes his tip he starts bucking his hips up like a lunatic, immediately whimpering like a puppy when he feels your warm mouth close.

you stop teasing him, poor boy is nearly deceased with the way his sensitive cock twitches inside your mouth. you don’t actually have to do anything, it turns out, he’s overstimulating himself. twitching from the comfortable warmth surrounding his tender tip, then wincing when he accidentally touches your tongue or the inside of your cheek.

it’s adorable, really, he’s cursing like you’ve never heard him do before, gripping the cushions of the couch, throwing his head back, lifting his hips… the boy doesn’t know what to do with himself. you murmur something that could be interpreted as are you alright but as you vibrate his leaking cock, sam whines, lifting his hips and nearly making you choke on him.

“ a-aaah i’msosorrysosorryshit fuck …” he tries to help, he really does, but in holding your face with his warm hands he only makes it worse for himself. “fuck!” he twitches again, the sight is too much for him, the way your eyes fill with tears when you gag on his cock, the way you look up at him trying to reassure him you’re okay, the way his hands feel your soft skin… his lips part and let out a guttural moan, spilling his load into your mouth. “i’m… i’msorryfuck… ” his hips thrust upwards a few more times, slowing down as he stops cumming, breathing heavily and softly whispering his deepest, most sincere apologies.

you’re left with little choice but to swallow his load, gently cleaning up his tip before opening your mouth and letting his still hard cock out. 

it’s such a pretty sight, he looks like he’s done ten rounds in a ring, sweat glistening on his neck as his throat bobbed with the heaviness of his gulps.

“sam…” you start, not moving from the floor, but placing your palm on his thigh, rubbing slow circles over his jeans while he lifts his head with great effort, looking at you with that blissed out face, rosy cheeks and parted lips.

“fuck… i’m so sorry, i thought i could–”

“oh shut up, stop apologizing.” you interrupt him, shaking your head. “you did okay,” you lie, “i won’t tell anyone it’s only been–” checking your watch, you can’t help but chuckle, “one minute.”

with a groan, he drops his head back again, disappointed in his skill, thinking he’s going to be teased relentlessly about this, especially after he’s talked such a big game at the saloon earlier today.

“i’m so done for…” he complains, rubbing his palms over his face.

“i won’t tell, promise.” you chew on your lip for a moment, looking down to appreciate his girthy cock, still hard… and dangerously close to your lips again. “we can try again.”

your words strike like lightning into his spine, making him snap his head forward like you’ve grown a second head or turned completely purple.

“a-again?” he stutters, blinking rapidly as if clearing his head from the first orgasm.

“i’ll go easy on you, maybe we can start a little different, hm?” carefully, you wrap your hand around his girth, observing as he sharply inhales, and start slowly stroking him. “maybe with my hand first, yeah?”

sam’s hair is a damn mess, perfectly mirroring the state of his mind as he feels your grip on his cock. he nods, still breathing heavily and not trusting his hands. his long fingers dig into the couch cushion, knuckles going white as he grips it tightly, trying to keep everything in, but once a glob of your spit drips onto his tip he can’t stop the monumental moan that leaves him.

“ oooohhhh– ah j-just like that…” sam closes his eyes this time, determined to last more than a minute, maybe even aim for two.

his hips wiggle as your hand glides, wet with saliva, up to his tip and gently slides back down. you build it up, the grip consistent as he tries hard not to buck his hips up into your hand, tries to breathe evenly. slowly, carefully you lower your head, pressing just a simple kiss to his tip, but even that has him leaking precum, twitching in your hand, holding onto a sliver of self-control.

“a- ahhhh please… pleaseplease i need– i need to…” he pleads in a breathless voice, once again bucking up, desperately chasing the warmth of your lips.

“slow down, sam, be good.” your voice soothes him, but a moment passes and he registers what you’ve said.

“h-huh? what… what did you say?” he groans out, pushing the words in between little gasps of breath as your thumb gently swipes across his cock head, gathering the salty liquid and using it to help you glide better.

“be good, you can be a good boy for me, right?” your syrupy voice hits the spot. his hips lift a little higher, as do his whimpers. a smile crosses your face, a little devious as you lean in again, swiping your warm tongue on his cock. “oh you liked that, didn’t you? you wanna be a good boy for me?” you pause, feeding on his desperate sounds, on the way his hands hold onto the couch until they’re shaking, itching to close around the strands of your hair and pull .

“please…” he swallows, not daring to open his eyes, “please… more–” a strangled cry leaves him as you close your lips just around his pink tip, sucking off the quickly leaking precum. “ o-ohhh fuck please, need– a-aahhh i need t’...” sam whimpers pathetically, he keeps cursing, pleading with you, begging for nothing, unable to string a coherent sentence. “pleaseplease ohhhh so good, so good…”

“ good , you’re being good for me, sam, taking it really nicely.” you take a moment to listen to his pleas before whispering, “sweet boy, sam, that’s a good pup.” with a gentle sigh you wrap your lips around his cock again, lowering your hand to the girthy base, stroking him tenderly while your cheeks slowly hollow out. keeping your eyes on his blushed face, keeping your ear out for his higher pitched moans, you glance at your watch, speeding up slightly before releasing him from your mouth. “you gonna be good for me and cum? come on, sweet puppy, you should cum for me.” a few consecutive gasps fall from his soft mouth, followed by a curse and a whimper.

sam quickly lifts his hips, fucking up into your hand, and spills once more, pearly white strings of cum dripping over your fingers, under and between them as you stroke him until he stills.

slumped against the seat, his head swings forward, chin touching his chest as he sighs, finally daring to open his eyes to look at you. his eyes focus on your tongue licking the mess of your hand, sucking on each fingertip as you clean it of his release. sam’s hands ball into fists, he shouldn’t touch you, it’s too intimate, it’s too familiar. it’s not a part of the deal. 

“two minutes and three seconds,” you say, “you did it.” with a smug smile, you lift yourself off the floor, sitting on the couch beside him with a small huff. 

“i… did it?” he can hardly believe his ears. he lasted two minutes with you, he can finally say he’s won a bet against sebastian. he leans back again, breathing deeply, feeling another twitch in his cock as it grows hard once more. “wanna go for three minutes?” he sounds too smug for a man in his position, overstimulated to high heavens and barely functioning after being praised.

his cheek only earns him a chuckle and a playful smack on the chest, causing him to snicker as he throws an arm over your shoulder to bring you a little closer to his body.

“good boys don’t test my patience, sam.” you tease, leaning your head against his chest, already thinking of the next time you get to fluster him until he breaks.

[suffering-asthmatic-tifosi]

I know this is basic asf but I kinda wanna get ur writing style, can u do a Lando one where she’s a McLaren driver and the just flirt?

Also do u write like papayatwinks or does she help u or something

(Ig you be the judge if i write like her or nah.. Its been a minute [4 years lmao] since I've written a fic but I got this soooo)

Anything for you, my prince

Warnings: none, maybe use of y/n. Is that a warning? idk lmao

W/c: 506

Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

A/n: FIRST FIC BABYY. Enjoy ig :) don’t come at me for wrong names of people on the staff i tried my best thank you. I also used a random Gp and McLaren’s results are not accurate here.

Summary: The team has doubled down on Lando’s championship fight, so when Lando reaches Y/n, team orders are put in place but Y/n doesn’t let him go without a little fun.

AND ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Y/n started on pole. She sped past max and kept the lead with Lando close behind in P5 after a bad quali.

“Perfect start y/n, now just keep the lead and this could be a good result for the team”, her race engineer said over the radio.

She knew she would probably have to give the position to Lando soon as operation “LN4THEWIN” was fully in swing at McLaren.

By lap 34 she was still in the lead. Lando however had gained many positions and was trailing close behind in P2 now.

“Lando is behind you y/n”, her race engineer reminded her of her teammate’s position.

“Has he asked for team orders yet”, she asked him jokingly.

“Erm… no I don’t believe so— no he hasn’t.. why?”

“Well, wouldn’t whiny little Lando want to pass me without a fight? That cute little baby would never hurt me”, she giggled into her radio.

“Will, what’s my gap to Y/n?” Lando asked his engineer.

“Erm, Lando you’re at 1.3 sec of Y/n you can attack at this pace in the next 2 laps.

“She also asked if you had requested team orders yet”, Will told Lando with mild confusion in his tone.

After hearing this, Lando chuckled and tried to increase his speed on his old tires. But, Y/n kept pressing.

“Tell her I don’t need Team orders to overtake her,” Lando told Will.

Two laps later and he was still behind Y/n

“Y/n were going to need to swap positions. Lando is clocking in better speeds right now and it’s for the good of the team.”

She wanted to scream and drive that eyesore orange car into a ditch. She wasn’t a quitter; she didn’t want this season to go like this, but it had to be done, unfortunately.

“Lemme guess, Lando put in a special request?”, she asked, mildly annoyed.

—

“HaVE YOu ToLD HEr yET??”, Lando yelled into his radio. Two laps till the last lap and he was stressed. His championship would be almost locked in with this win and he- sorry the team needed this desperately.

“Yes we have informed her of the team orders”

Three corners later and y/n opened the gap for Lando to pass.

“Can you open my radio for Lando to hear?”, y/n asked her engineer.

“Yeah, why?”

“I want to speak to Lan”...

“Your position your highness,” she said raising her hand in a little wave for Lando as he passed.

——

“So you think that’s funny?” Lando asked her

“Yes, you don’t?” She turned her head to him as he approached her at her computer.

“You made me look like a whiny baby, that’s a bit humiliating” Lando sat next to her in the swivel chair.

“I don’t think it’s humiliating.. Lord Norris” She bowed in mockery of his embarrassment.

Lando laughed, “Get outa here, and fetch me my hoodie over there”, he pointed to the chair next to her

“Anything for you my prince”

[immortalcolleen]

entwined the lost soul, come and whisper the love of you.

who is your fated soulmate?

1➝2➝3

©immortalcolleen do not copy, reform, translate any of the content.

Pile 1

Innocence, loving, kind, friendly, giving, and supportive seemed to unite with some of the best qualities among one being. You reflect each other and the universe put your souls in beautifully carved earth. Soulmate can be the youngest among the family or still young at heart even in ages; soulmate is empath and is attached in every emotion.

When sensitivity touched them, soulmate wouldn't dare to speak it with people-it is more better to be quiet than to put salt in someone's wound. That's how people fall into your soulmate traps, they are as pure and is considerate, never judge people for a simple slip. However, the real evil who live in this world are taking advantage your soulmate kindness and devour it all. these are selfish people to say.

Your soulmate just rather be ignorant and forgivable than causing harm to anyone, what a purest heart you must be surely to protect this person. The only disadvantage of them is are often do emotionally open to everyone which make them be vulnerable at everything harmful.

Pile 2

Patience and determination dominate to them. Being under in control and leading the way- allied to their enjoyment, it seemed your soulmate got some rank or major role. Not even obstacles can frightened them, if is ruin by chance they likely to conceal it with more hardwork.

Soulmate isn't often in rush and as focus in something that wanted to achieve, not really a quitter but do know when to recline.

Boring at may seem for not being spontaneous person but is reliable about commitments, it is consume much by work/job.

Sometimes, is yearning for something adventure or to taste new life. It will take a long run for them before to achieve a victory and success into their field. It is someone who is facile in aggressive outburst as it fall through hectic and busy lifestyle.

Pile 3

Your soulmate seemed to attract fortune and blessings in life. This kind of being is rarely to be seen in pick a pile, they rarely to appear I must say.

You are destined to be with them and your lucky to have them in your life. Financial things isn't a problem for your soulmate, probably got stable job, bussiness or it comes from lucky wins or even inheritance.

For not so most, your soulmate is wealthy and abundant financially while for most, soulmate saved and secure right amount for their future.

Soulmate got pleasant manners which could bring good karma in their life; fortune keep incredibly increasing if keep doing good deeds.

[granny-turismo]

I told you Virgil, he might be your grandpa some day!

Just wanted to ask in case anyone knew - is Kip Harris on this thing?

[skeletonapricationday]

Even more spicy David Headcannons

Here's the first one

I forgot how fun headcannons were, especially smutty ones. My David kink is never ending. I know I legit posted minutes ago but IDGAF!

He's so twitchy, he can't help it. His thighs jump and jolt, his fingers clench and twitch, his head can't decide which direction its going with every wave of pleasure. His twitchy self is all over the place. Sometimes you just gotta hold the man down. (He loves being pinned anyway.)

He is so touchy. The only time he pulls your hair is on accident, when his needy hands find there way on your head during a blowjob. Sometimes he'll tug you when he doesn't feel you're close enough when he's doing you from behind. He'll grip his hands onto your back while you ride him, making it impossible to pull away from him. This twink has needy strength!

Speaking of blowjobs, he doesn't exactly know his stance on them. They feel incredible, and he enjoys the closeness. Yet, at the same time he hates making you swallow. You're very adamant about it, especially since he's such a healthy eater, you enjoy it. At the same time he would be disheartened if you spit, so there's no winning. He'll always accept one, but it isn't the first thing that comes to mind when he thinks about getting freaky with you.

Now, on the other hand he loves 69ing. It's the best of both worlds to him. It's harder to think about the guilt of you swallowing his unborn children when his tongue is busy. Plus if he cums prematurely he still has his mouth to work you. He loves the way your wetness drips down onto his face and the way you taste, that added onto the pleasure of your mouth wrapped around his cock- there's nothing better. Well, expect actual sex of course.

His tongue is always busy, and I mean busy. He has an obsession with giving rather than receiving. Something about the way you coo and praise him, the way you moan. He loves when your toes curl, when your thighs turn into earmuffs, and being practically waterboarded by your wetness. If he hasn't made you cum once from shoving his tongue inside you during a sexual rendezvou, he has failed. And Davy ain't no quitter. It goes on and on if you don't stop him, so watch out.

David doesn't enjoy being tied up. He hates not being able to run his hands all over you. Wether its having a death grip on your ass, thighs, or even your waist he wants it. He worships you from top to bottom, and that's hard to do with his hands tied. Now, he has found out on the other hand he enjoys tying you up. He still isn't the most dominant when he does, but he does get revenge for all those "one more" s you've given him.

David gains more confidence in the bedroom over time, which is natural for most relationships but when you say confidence you mean it. The more sure he is that he can make you orgasm, the more excited he is for the session. When you taught him how to properly finger you (hes not a virgin, just none of his exes talked him through it), he kept asking you to be his test dummy for weeks. Hes quite the quick learner. Once he learned the basics he became utterly focused on mastering them, and he has. Which has lead to his sexual confidence, at least towards you.

David comes with a nasty habit. He anxiously bites his bottom lip, always leaving it sore and red. This upsets you since he's got such a pretty mouth. He does this in and out of the bedroom. You basically have to shove your fingers in his mouth to make him stop, which has awakened a whole new kink within him. He's started doing it on purpose just so he can feel your dominant hand stop him and fingers press on the bottom of his tongue. Something about the weight and intimacy of it turns him on.

This boy just can't stop saying please. He's so polite even when he's asking to cum. It's such a cute habit of his. "Please let me cum." "Please, you're so tight. I can't do it." "Baby, please." He finds a new use for the word every time you fuck.

He sure knows how to beg. Davy has started looking for the keywords you like the most in bed. Learning what to plead for and what to subtlety demand. You haven't even noticed it over time but his every word is catered to your needs and lust. Oh mommy can't he cum early just this once?

Oh yes he says mommy, look at that cute little face. He just wants to babied every once in a while. Let him lay back with a goofy grin on his face covered in wetness as he patiently waits for more from his mommy. David doesn't say it often cause it makes him feel emrbassed, but when he gets really into it, it just slips out. You first learned about his mommy kink on accident. He was pumping deep inside of you squeezing his eyes shut with an agape mouth on the brink of an orgasm when it slipped. When he said his first mommy you couldn't help but make him cum again and again, hearing it was so cute!

David has no problem exploring any interesting kinks or fetishes you have. He makes you deal with his (you do more than just deal, you enjoy), so of course he'd willingly try yours. Wether its a night when he ends up blindfolded and covered in wax, or a more subtle fetish like spitting into his mouth, he'll try it. Getting you off gets him off. He's a pleasure bottom all the way.

David isn't exactly packing. He isn't huge but he isn't small either. He's working with a perfect 6 inches, average across the board. It's not so big that it'll hurt or take too much preparation, but it's not so small that you don't feel a thing. Like a dirtier version of goldilocks you think his dick is just right.

The base starts out the color of his skin and slowly fades into a dusty pink. It's like the perfect shade to you. He's your multicolored fun stick. He isn't very veiny, he doesn't work out much afterall. His job is athletic enough (herding kids is cardio, for sure). And yes, the carpet does match the drapes.