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rowdyluv · 5 months ago

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“He's been a bit of a jerk”

Summary: quinn suddenly ditches his childhood best friend on new years eve when they have spent every NYE together since they were 6. luke saves the night

Warnings: use of y/n and I think one or two uses of y/n/n, only brief mentions of quinn not actually active in fic but substantial to the plot, like has internal dialogue via italics, if I missed anything please let me know

Word Count: 1.8k

requested: yes - “luke pining after Quinn’s best friends and he finally gets the girl.”

Authors Note: edited as may 31, 2024 - if you read before May 31 the word count is now 800 more than it is was previously 🫣

part 2

On the frost-tipped grass, (Y/N) sat beneath a canopy of stars, her back propped against the rough bark of an old oak tree. A light dusting of snow had settled over the ground, transforming the world into a perfect winter wonderland. She shivered, not necessarily from the cold evening, but from the heart wrenching realization that tonight was supposed to go different. It was New Year's Eve, and every year since they were six, she and her childhood best friend, Quinn had celebrated together. But this year, he had up and ditched her last minute. Just like that. He gave her zero explanation and no apology. He had just vanished into the night with his middle brother, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Which when he left for the NHL was pretty hard to top, yet he somehow managed to do it when he was only somewhere in the same town. The two barely get to see each other anymore as it is. He lives in Vancouver and she lives in Michigan. Quinn flies her out to a few games a season and of course she attends any Canucks vs Redwings games as well as Canucks vs Devils games. However the time the two have available with one another is so restricted at that time, she may as well be just another fan in the arena.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the frosted snow. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. She looked up, her eyes falling on her best friend’s youngest brother, Luke, as he joined her. She briefly looked over his features, his cheeks were already flushed from the growing colder night, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered as if they were amongst a huge crowd of people and not alone in an empty yard. His voice still highly audible over the silence of the night. "I came out here for a few reasons but one being because I…” Luke’s words ran out into the night. His right hand pulling off his beanie then he was slipping his fingers through his messy curls. A tell tale sign he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I wanted to apologize for what Quinn did to you tonight. He had no right to leave you like that. I don’t know what is going on with him and what would make him decide to leave behind the one person who has been consistent for him that isn’t family. The one person in his life that still sees him as Quinn and not as big shot Quinn..” Luke shoved his beanie back on and sighed. He had been looking up at the night sky watching the night clouds move uncovering the stars. “He has been a bit of a jerk here lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him."

(Y/N) smiled weakly at the rambling boy next to her. Her gaze slowly drifting back up to the now clear sky and where the stars were twinkling like Christmas lights. "It's fine, really. I mean, it stung a lot at first, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm just glad you were here tonight." The butterflies in Luke’s stomach flapped back to life and were going insane at her last statement. “Who knows Lukey. Maybe we can start our own tradition together this New Year’s.” Luke was watching her body languagefor any signs of a joke before speaking up. “I wouldn’t mind. It would teach Quinn to ditch someone as special as you.” (Y/N) slightly smiled, still looking up at the stars. “Special? No. Just me Luke.” (Y/N) argued, Luke didn’t want to have the silly argument back and forth. He knew just how special she is. Given the chance he would show her too. After all, a girl like her deserves to be treated, loved, and respected the way she treats, loves, and respects everyone else. (Y/N) was the girl has sought after ever since Luke stopped thinking he was supposed to marry his mom when he was older. Luke shook his head and groaned at her words. “One day (Y/N/N). Just you wait, one day you’ll know just how special you truly are.” He tells her before they fell into another comfortable silent state. His words confidently spilled out. (Y/N) turned her head opposite from Luke so he couldn’t see the true smile she was wearing across her face because of him. She also hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat as a result of his words.

The silence stretched between them, as she snuggled further into the blanket, (y/n) suddenly became aware that Luke was only wearing a thin jacket as he shivered. She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his. "Here," she said, pulling the blanket off from around her shoulders. "You can have this. It's getting kind of cold out here." Luke hesitated for a moment, debating on offering to share the blanket. "No, really. It's fine. I'm warm enough." She shot him a glare. “Luke Warren Hughes. I just saw you shiver.” Her tone, at best, was barely strict. He held eye contact waiting for her to continue, he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “If you won’t take it for yourself, we will share it.” She says wrapping it around him and snuggling into his side. Luke was trying his best to calm the butterflies and his racing heart. While also fighting the mental battle on if he should shoot his shot at midnight.

(Y/N) is the girl I have wanted for years now. She is right here. Cuddling into my side, a couple moves and I could easily be her new year’s kiss. If she hates it? I just play it off as a friendly new year’s kiss. Her and Quinn have been each other’s midnight kiss before, I can play it off as if I’m filling his shoes if she questions me and she’s angry. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this?

As midnight was quickly approaching the air was thick with anticipation between the both of them and more people were gathering outside.

The countdowns echoed throughout the night, each one louder than the last.

Fireworks lit up the sky, casting a multitude of colors over everyone. The fireworks also casting iridescent colors across the blanket of snow on the ground. Making a beautiful picturesque scene.

Luke decided it was definitely now or never. He may not have done it 12am but right now under the colorful display of the many fireworks was perfect. He smiled down at (Y/N), feeling a warmth spread through his chest, for the first time the butterflies in his stomach calmed. He leaned in, his breath fanning her cheek. "Happy New Year, (Y/n)." She felt his lips brush against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. That is when he froze up. Her reaction to his lips barely touching her sent his heart racing. He was scared she was going to send him flying into the snow. Her best friend’s baby brother’s lips just touched her. But she didn’t move. She was waiting? Luke quickly finished his well wishes to her before she snapped out of it, "I hope this year brings you everything you wish for." Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back, their gazes locked.

“Do it Luke. Her eyes are basically screaming, begging for you to.” why do you have to be in my head now jack dear god please shut up.

In a seconds time he was leaning back in, his left hand making its way softly to the back of her head. His fingers interlacing in her hair. (Y/N)’s breaths were slow and deep awaiting Luke’s next move. “Tell me if this isn’t something you want.” Luke swallows down the anxiety he was feeling. Mentally silencing the jack he hears in his head telling him to go for it. “Because once I do this once.. I’m going to want to do this again and again. Everyday for the next foreseeable future.” Luke’s voice was trembling in want, desire, need. All of his feelings rushing to the forefront of his mind. “Shut up and kiss me Luke.” (Y/N) sighed grasping his face pulling him to her.

As their lips touched, the grand finale of the fireworks show was set off. The energy of the grand finale matching the energy sparking off the two of them. Luke and (y/n)’s kiss was hot enough to melt the snow underneath them. The way their mouths moved in perfect harmony. The small nips Luke made against her bottom lip as he pulled away. It left them both wanting more, needing more.

“Remind me to thank my brother for being an ass.” Luke mumbles against her lips before getting lost in another languid kiss. “Lukey let’s go home. It’s the new year, I’m cold and I also want to thank Quinn, because now I know who the better kisser is...well I’ve not kissed Jack.” She pauses and makes a playful gagging noise. “And because it finally got you to make a move.” Luke’s face went more red than it already was where it was tinged from the cold. “That..what?” He was baffled by her admittance . “I had my assumptions. I’m just happy I wasn’t wrong. Now let’s goooo. I wanna go get in bed and get warm.” (Y/N) sent a wink his way.

She was hinting towards cuddling. But with how fast Luke was grabbing up the blankets that they had been sitting on and were wrapped up in, before grabbing her hand and heading to the car…She is pretty sure his mind went a different direction.

“Quinn now owes me $10, he said you didn’t like me.” (Y/N) says once they were in the car and headed down the road. “You two had a bet on if I had a crush on you or not?” Luke laughed while asking. “No we had a bet on if you even liked me as a person. Because you avoided me. He’s going to be so shocked to know that you like-like me.” She clarifies with a giggle when she says ‘like-like’. Luke rolls his eyes at the thought of his older brother being naive enough to believe he didn’t like his best friend. “So back to what you said earlier tonight…Same thing and same place next new year’s?” Luke asks her. She nods with a smile. “New tradition, with you. Starting this year.” (Y/N) confirms with a nod. “Only maybe we hang out inside until right before midnight.” She adds grabbing for Luke’s hand to wrap both of her freezing ones around. The two sat in a comfortable silence stealing quick glances, with smiles plastered across their faces, and glimmers in their eyes the rest of the way to the Hughes home.

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terastalungrad · 7 months ago

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Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.

I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?

Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine. According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire. According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset. That’s the level of news you’d expect.

The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.

The first question is about the show’s angle. Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:

So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.

Fun! This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.

Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.

Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.

And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).

You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.

The journalist finally addresses this head on. It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:

But here are my favourite bits:

[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.

This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material. He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).

It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material. That’s a big taboo. I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.

Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:

It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.

#stewart lee #ricky gervais #tagging my hate

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year ago

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silver spring | coriolanus snow

Description: Coriolanus Snow knows that he shouldn't have ended up this way. He knows that he was destined to be something better. The woman sleeping beside him is a testament of his reckoning, Lucy Gray is a ghost that he tries to forget. (Snow and Reader's marriage told through the cold beliefs of Coriolanus.)

Pairing: young-president!coriolanus snow/wife!reader

Warning: childbirth, major character death, angst, snow is haunted by lucy gray's memory.

"Time cast a spell on you But you won't forget me." - Fleetwood Mac.

[...] He was glad about the erasure. It was just another way to eliminate Lucy Gray from the world. The Capitol would forget her, the districts barely knew her, and District 12 had never accepted her as their own. In a few years, there would be a vague memory that a girl had once sung in the arena. And then that would be forgotten too. Goodbye Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.

"Are you alright?" you cleared your throat seeing him in deep thought. There was always something mysterious inside the man that you married - he was always deep in thought. "You came to visit?" he seemed disinterested in what you had to say. "I-they told me that you didn't eat dinner yet," you managed to choke out.

He was very clear and precise. He told you that he couldn't stand you - that he hated you, and it was the very reason that you were wed.

An amused chuckle exits his mouth. "Aren't there more important things to have your attention?" he raised an eyebrow, staring at you up and down with that incredulous stare.

You seemed to amuse him - to some extent.

"- like running our household or gossiping with your friends." he mused, returning back to his paperwork. His statement made you feel awry, you were never the one to listen to gossip - the suggestion that you should do that only cemented the fact that he didn't know you - didn't bother enough to know you. "I was worried that you'd starve without dinner." you took another step forward.

He shakes his head.

"I will not die without dinner." he scoffed - dismissing you.

It was late at night when Coriolanus stumbled inside your room. By then, he could hardly make out the outline of your body on the bed.

He couldn't believe that the woman he hated - had finally become his wife. "Coriolanus," you mumbled - eyes trying to adjust with the dim light. "Did I wake you?" he removed his jacket, surprised at his tone. "N-No," you stuttered. A meek prey against him.

You moved slightly, leaving him enough space to lay beside you.

Coriolanus was surprised that you slept that quick - though, perhaps he was also thankful. He didn't want to create a reason for small talk. Your purpose in his life wasn't to be loved - it was to create children, and to strengthen his political prowess.

The moment he set his eyes on you - he vowed to never love or care for you. He couldn't afford to love again. He knows what love feels like - Lucy Gray manipulated him, both body and soul. Until now he doesn't know if she is truly dead. He wishes that she is.

He is snapped away from his thoughts again.

This time, you wrap your arms around him. His eyes widen in surprise, he opens his mouth to speak but he relents seeing your sleeping figure.

He may hate you, but it does not stop him from finding you beautiful.

It was a few months later when he sees you again - this time with good news. "They tell me that our child is the size of a small ball." you smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. This was one of the few moments where he showed his love. You were sat on his lap, almost inhaling his scent at the proximity.

It was all for show, you thought. He had guests in the courtyard, and they could see you from the window.

"I've thought of names, but I wanted you to choose too." you continued, licking your pink lips. Oh, Coriolanus wanted nothing than to kiss those lips right now - but alas, his ambition ruled him. "What are they?" he continued rubbing your belly.

"Brutus, if it is a boy and Lucy-"

"No, not Lucy. Something else." he demanded, interrupting you. "Josephine," you quickly replace and he nods.

"- but if there are other names that you prefer, you may choose." you stared deep into his eyes. "You bleed, you decide." he whispered, his hands trailing up to your neck. "Kiss me," he suddenly demanded.

"What?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"There's people watching, kiss me."

And you obeyed him.

"As pure as the driven snow," you mumble while soothing the pain in your stomach. "What did you say?" Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. "Our child is as pure as the driven snow," you repeated - almost seeing his face in a dream. "Where did you come up with that?" he chuckled, slowly used to your company.

"You mumbled it in your sleep." you responded, continuing to write on your journal. "Well, I can't remember saying that anymore." he shrugged, feeling paranoia gnaw at his bones.

Lucy Gray, let me live.

"It sounds familiar, it's from that tribute - I watched her then, but its been so long I can't even remember." you chuckled, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12.

You were enamored by her - intrigued by her voice. Your husband seems to be the same. "Is that why you wanted to name our child Lucy?" he questioned, her name tasted bitter on his tongue. "No, of course not - you'd never approve." you scoffed.

"Why wouldn't I? I don't know Lucy Gray personally." he lied once more, maintaining his narrative. "You told me that the Games were created to remind the Districts of what they are - animals." you remembered, not fully believing his speech. "You would hate me if I named our child after an ... well, someone that you hate."

"Good, and don't mention Lucy Gray ever again." his eyes narrowed.

part two >>

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x lucy gray #angst #hunger games prequel

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faint-petrichor · 4 months ago

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gender/sex abolition is a very worthwhile thing to aim for, but it cannot be done by wishing it away--it is done through the full dissolution of the patriarchal system. based on that statement it sounds like we are far away from that, and that is indeed the case. and more crucially, it means this cannot be achieved by wishing it away and pretending it does not exist. transmisogyny, for example, is an institutional force that we are faced with every day. this is the exact value of tme/tma as terminology--not to reinforce a sex binary, but to describe an oppression by literally naming it directly.

i sympathize with the desire to be rid of amab/afab as labels. in a certain context there is value to this, where those labels have been used to repackage biological determinism. but discarding them fully is bound to fall short, because we are still bound to systemic (rather than biological) circumstances based on our agab. that is the arena of this terminology. if we were to discard them, we would discard a piece of essential language towards understanding the oppressions trans people face. to put it another way, whether we like it or not we are bound to these categories by hegemonic society, and to that end it is sometimes useful to name them. and while tme/tma is not a synonym for afab/amab, it exists for the same purpose. and all the same, if we did not have it we would be lacking a critical piece of language to describe oppression.

so when trans women use these terminologies to have critical discussions about transmisogyny, we aren't trying to reassert the gender binary or biological determinism. we are trying to have critical discussions about transmisogyny! something we cannot solve by pretending it does not exist.

#azazaza

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grantvaleska · 6 months ago

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Sunglasses: ARNAUD - Tiara Diamond Glasses Harness: Noche - Jose Harness NEW @ EQUAL10! Top: Archivefaction - Minerwa Turtleneck NEW @ NEO JAPAN! Bag: SHUSHU - Miujin Bag Pants: THRIVE - Travis Denim Jeans NEW @ THE STATEMENT ARENA! Shoes: Gabriel - Studded Flat Shoes Hairbase: Volkstone - Blaze Hairbase NEW @ ALPHA!

#ARNAUD #Noche #Archivefaction #SHUSHU #Thrive #Gabriel #Volkstone #Equal10 #Neo Japan #The Statement Arena #TSA #Alpha #SL #Second Life

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its-avalon-08 · 6 months ago

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could you do a schumacher!daughter reader fic pretty please😇 somethin g soft and sweet

anon you read my mind <3

little schumi (ms7!daughter)

(p.s. i showed by father this gif and he has tears in his eyes, side note: my dad loves michael schumacher)

The familiar scent of burnt rubber and ozone hung heavy in the air as Y/N Schumacher navigated the bustling Formula One paddock. Unlike her brother Mick, who was gearing up for qualifying, Y/N never felt the pull of the racetrack. Instead, she gravitated towards the human stories that unfolded around it.

A gruff but gentle hand landed on her shoulder. "There you are, little Schumi," boomed a voice that could only belong to Kimi Raikkonen. Y/N grinned, returning the signature Kimi side-eye. "Kimi! Did you see Valtteri's new helmet design? It's outrageous!"

Kimi snorted. "Looks like a flock of angry parrots attacked it." They shared a laugh, their easy camaraderie a testament to the years Y/N had spent soaking up the paddock atmosphere. Every driver, engineer, and mechanic knew her, a familiar smile in a world of high-octane adrenaline.

Fernando Alonso, a close friend of her father's, spotted them and sauntered over. "How's my favorite Schumi doing today?" he asked, ruffling her hair. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't you have a qualifying session to win, Fernando?"

"Practice makes perfect, but spending time with you is always a priority, pequena," he winked. Y/N knew the playful banter was a way to deflect from the unspoken. Her father's condition was a shadow that loomed over the entire F1 family.

Just then, a young reporter, all bright eyes and eager questions, approached Y/N. "Ms. Schumacher, a few words for Sky Sports? Can you share your thoughts on your father's health?"

Y/N's smile faltered. Everyone knew this was a touchy subject. Sebastian Vettel, who was just passing by, overheard and stepped in. "Let's leave Y/N out of this, shall we?" he said, his voice firm but kind. "She doesn't owe you a public statement."

The reporter looked flustered. "But sir, it's a question everyone wants answered." Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And everyone will have to understand that some things are private, especially when it comes to family." He offered Y/N a reassuring smile. "Come on, Y/N, let's grab some coffee before the chaos starts."

Grateful, Y/N linked arms with Sebastian. The paddock might be a competitive arena, but the drivers, the ones who understood pressure and risk, formed their own kind of family. They understood her silence, her need for normalcy in a world obsessed with speed.

As they walked, Y/N overheard snippets of conversations. "Poor Y/N," someone murmured. "She must be going through hell." Another voice added, "Leave her alone, haven't they been through enough?" Y/N offered a small, sad smile. It hurt, but it also warmed her heart. Her father, with his quiet strength and unwavering determination, had built a legacy that transcended wins and podium finishes. He had inspired loyalty, respect, and a fierce protectiveness that extended to his daughter, even in this fast-paced, unforgiving world.

Reaching the small coffee shop tucked away in the paddock, Y/N settled into a booth with Sebastian. "Thanks, Seb," she said, her voice soft.

Sebastian squeezed her shoulder. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, your dad would be proud of you. The way you handle yourself, your kindness… it's something special."

Y/N smiled, tears pricking her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't be on the racetrack, but here, in the heart of the paddock, amongst the roar of engines and the smell of racing fuel, she felt a part of her father's legacy.

time skip

The post-race debrief was abuzz with post-adrenaline chatter. Y/N, perched on the edge of Lando Norris' chair, listened with a half-ear as he recounted his epic battle with Daniel Ricciardo on the final lap. They may be from different teams, but their young love story was a paddock favorite.

"…and then I went for the undercut, and bam! Second place!" Lando finished, a triumphant grin splitting his face. Y/N leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Amazing job, my champion," she whispered, earning a playful swat on the arm.

Suddenly, Charles Leclerc burst through the door, his phone held aloft. "Did you guys see this?!" he exclaimed, brandishing a news article. Max Verstappen, who was sprawled on the couch next to Lewis Hamilton, snatched the phone. "What is it, Charles?"

Max's eyes narrowed as he scrolled through the article. "Seriously?" he growled, throwing the phone onto the coffee table. Y/N's heart lurched. It couldn't be good.

Lewis picked it up and read aloud, his voice heavy with disapproval. "'Mick Schumacher: A shadow of his father's talent?' This is ridiculous!"

Y/N's blood boiled. How dare they criticize her brother, especially so harshly? She felt tears prickling her eyes, her fists clenching. Before she could react further, Lando was by her side, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, his voice a low rumble. "Don't let them get to you. Mick's a phenomenal driver, everyone knows that."

Carlos Sainz, ever the comedian, piped up from across the room. "Besides, who needs talent when you have good looks like Mick, right?" he winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Y/N forced a smile, her anger slowly simmering down. She knew they were trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated their support. "Thanks, guys," she sniffled. "It just… it's frustrating."

Lewis, his calm demeanor ever-present, spoke up. "Let the results speak for themselves, Y/N. Mick's still young, and he's already proving himself. This kind of trash talk doesn't deserve your attention."

Max, still fuming, grabbed the phone again and typed furiously. "There," he declared, showing the screen to the rest of them. "I just tweeted my support for Mick. Let's see how those journalists like that."

Y/N let out a laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. These weren't just her teammates, they were her family, her chosen tribe. They understood the pressure, the scrutiny, and the unwavering loyalty that bound them together. They wouldn't let some random article bring her down.

Lando nudged her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, you know who the real untalented one is," he whispered, leaning in close.

Y/N playfully swatted his arm. "Oh yeah? And who's that?"

Lando winked. "The one who keeps losing to me on the simulator, obviously."

Their playful banter erupted into laughter, the tension completely forgotten. Surrounded by her closest friends, Y/N knew that no matter what the headlines said, she had her own championship team, one that valued love, support, and a good dose of healthy teasing.

time skip

The air crackled with a bittersweet energy as the F1 paddock celebrated Michael Schumacher's birthday. Banners emblazoned with his iconic number 7 adorned the pit lanes, and mechanics sported specially designed caps. Yet, beneath the celebratory facade, a current of unspoken grief hummed.

Mick and Y/N Schumacher stood shoulder-to-shoulder, a united front against the tide of emotions. Their gazes were fixed on a freshly painted mural across the track. It depicted Michael, mid-race, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of red. The artwork was a poignant reminder of the man they missed terribly.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper.

Mick nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "They captured him perfectly." A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Mick spoke, his voice gruff. "It hurts, doesn't it? Seeing him… but not really."

Y/N reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's the worst kind of absence, Mick. We know he's there, but…" she trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

Mick pulled her into a side hug, his protective aura a familiar comfort. "I know, Y/N. I know. But you're not alone. We have each other, and we have Mom. We'll get through this, together."

Y/N leaned into her brother's embrace, finding solace in his strength. "I know," she murmured. "It's just… I miss him telling me bad jokes after qualifying."

A choked laugh escaped Mick. "Yeah, those were the worst." He paused, then added, "But he still loved them, didn't he?"

Y/N chuckled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "He did. He loved seeing us laugh."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, the paddock noises a distant hum. Y/N looked up at the mural, a flicker of determination replacing the sadness in her eyes. "We'll make him proud, Mick. Both of us."

Mick met her gaze, his blue eyes mirroring her resolve. "We will. We owe him that."

A hand landed on Mick's shoulder. Sebastian Vettel stood beside them, his expression solemn. "He is proud of you both," he said softly. "Every single day."

Y/N and Mick exchanged a grateful smile. In that moment, surrounded by the people who knew their father best, they felt a surge of strength. Michael Schumacher's absence might leave an aching void, but his legacy, his love, and the unwavering support of their F1 family would forever keep his spirit alive.

#f1 #formula 1 #michael schumacher #fernando alonso #mick schumacher #kimi raikkonen x you #fernando alonso x female reader #f1 imagine #formula one #y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #max verstappen imagine #ava speaks #sir lewis hamilton #mick shumacher imagine

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sweetbans29 · 6 months ago

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Match Me - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin always go out in style (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff, cute Cait

Word Count: 1.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: ENJOY!

If there is one place you know where you will be, it is at Caitlin's game. You have been cheering her on since she started playing college ball and have no intentions of stopping that train as Cait enters the WNBA.

She is drafted to the Indiana Fever and the two of you make the move to Indiana as Cait begins training. She is officially signed (not that you had any doubts) and will make her debut playing the Connecticut Sun.

During training camp, you start to cook on how you want to support Cait. There is the obvious of being at all of her games but one thing you think will be fun is by supporting her in style.

When you bring it up to Caitlin, she is in full support.

The two of you are first seen wearing matching outfits in Caitlin's pre-season debut. All eyes are on her as she makes her way into the stadium sporting a brown Nike bomber jacket with a brown Nike tank and some creme Nike high-rise woven pants.

When she gets dressed, you help her put on her Iowa necklace and give her a good look.

"You look great babe," you say as you shamelessly check her out. She looks over at you and looks you up and down.

"I could say the same about you." She says as she brings you into her.

"We need to go," you say knowing if the two of you started something, Caitlin would be late for her first-ever WNBA game and you were not about to be the cause of that.

"Fine," Cait says and settles with a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you load up and make your way from the hotel to the arena. As you arrive and begin your walk to the tunnel.

Your excitement builds as you look forward to Caitlin making her first tunnel debut. The tunnel has always been something you loved about both the NBA and WNBA. You know Caitlin is not one to post about her fit like that but you have no shame and will post how cute your girlfriend is day or night.

Caitlin walks down and you see the media team snapping all of the shots of her. You walk a few feet behind her.

When it came to choosing your fit for the night, you didn't want to wear the same thing as your girl but you wanted to make a statement. You decided to wear the same fit but switch the colors. Where Caitlin wore brown, you wore cream, and where she wore creme you were wearing brown. When the two of you stood next to each other, it gave a cool visual.

News started to circulate after Caitlin and your first tunnel debut - all talking about the matching fits you both wore. One of the reporters even brought it up when Caitlin was in her post-game press.

The two of you match again when Catilin plays her second pre-season game. The two of you walk hand in hand this time through the tunnel as media soaks it all up.

This continues throughout the beginning of the season. It is about a quarter of the way through the season when there is a media question about it.

It is the second media day for the Fever, the first one since the season started and it is set during practice.

As the team makes their way out through the tunnel to start practice, there is a white board with a question written on it and a camera set up to record their responses.

Lexie Hull is the first one to come out.

"Who has the best game day fits?" Lexie reads as she thinks about it for a second. "Caitlin and her girl for sure, they are always coming out with matching fits and it is honestly the cutest."

NaLyssa and Celeste come out next.

"Best game day fits for sure has to go to Caitlin," NaLyssa says.

"Ya, Calitlin for sure. But you can't forget CC's girl, she be out here looking fly as hell and she isn't even heading onto the court." Celeste follows.

"Oh, definitely Cait's girl - they are always wearing something similar and our fans go crazy over it," NaLyssa adds before heading out to the court.

More of the team comes out, all saying Caitlin and you as who has the best game day fits.

The last few out are Erica and Aliyah, Caitlin starts to make her way out with them but then realizes she has forgotten her headband.

"I mean, I want to say me," Erica says as she smoothes her shirt.

"Maybe last season," Aliyah teases the point guard. "But this season, it is for sure Cait and her boo."

Erica fakes being hurt by Aliyah's words but then nods in agreement.

"Ya, CC and her girl for sure take that. Her girl goes hard with their game day fit choices. It's been cool to see how it has kind of lifted everyone's game-day fits, we all want to get CC's girlfriend's approval when she shows up.

"Ya, we all get to either the tunnel or the huddle room and immediately look for CC's girl to get the game day fit review. It has been a fun, pre-game ritual that the team built." Aliyah says as she and Erica make their way to the court.

Caitlin is the last one to make her way out which is a little frustrating to her since she would rather be the first one out.

She looks at the question and laughs.

"Uhhh, that is a hard one," Caitlin says as she rubs her chin. "I mean I know my answer but she isn't on the team," Cait says with another laugh.

"My girl has the best game day fits. Come on now, that's a no-brainer." She says as she smiles just thinking about all the attention the two of you have gotten around the topic.

"If you all look close enough, you'll see the matching started before the pre-season tunnels," Caitlin says with a wink to the camera.

This last statement causes an uproar in the media as everyone is trying to figure out when the two of you started matching. It takes the media a little time as photos of you at the WNBA draft begin to circulate.

You were at the WNBA draft sporting a matching Prada pantsuit, very similar to Caitlin's but accented differently. When Prada reached out about dressing Caitlin for her draft night, they also asked if you wanted to be dressed as well. As if that was a legitimate question.

Caitlin makes her way home from practice and she tells you about the media day question that was asked. You are proud of the fact that the whole team said the two of you.

"I also might have slipped a little easter egg in at the end of it," Cait says with a sly smile.

"What are you talking about?" You ask her.

"I may or may not have mentioned that the matching began before the pre-season tunnel." She says as she begins eating the dinner you prepared for her.

"Ahhh, I like that though - let's see how long it takes for them to figure it out." You say.

"Ten-bucks they get it within the first 24 hours of it posting," Caitlin says.

"Oh make it 20 and try the first 2 hours of that interview posting." You combat, not breaking eye contact with your girl. She reaches out her hand and the two of you shake on it.

A few days pass and the tunnel interview is posted. You are at home with Caitlin watching a movie.

Caitlin gets up to grab the two of you some chocolate chip cookies that just came out of the oven. When she comes back, she sits down and slides you a $20 bill.

You give her a questioning look and she shows you her phone.

Looking, you see the tunnel interview has been posted - it reads posted 9 minutes ago. You scroll down and the next post is Caitlin in her WNBA draft outfit, you swipe right and see a photo of the two of you holding hands in the lobby of your hotel wearing matching fits.

You smile and look over at her as you take a bite of your chocolate chip cookie.

"Well that didn't take long," you say with a laugh.

Caitlin leans over and wipes the chocolate that is left on your lip.

"Nope, not long at all." She says as she brings her chocolate-covered finger to her mouth, sucking the chocolate off before taking a bite of her own cookie.

AN: Here it is! This was a fun one to write. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #Caitlin Clark concepts #caitlin clark masterlist #caitlin clark imagine #indiana fever #wnba basketball

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fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep · 2 years ago

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they weren’t the first| finnick odair

anyone else random get thrown onto hunger games tik tok?

summary| after the jabberjays it’s revealed that peeta and katniss weren’t the first pair to make it out of an arena alive part 2

“whose y/n?”

Johanna couldn’t help but chuckle at Katniss’s question. When the jabberjays attacked Katniss ran after what she thought was Prim, meanwhile Finnick ran after an unknown voice that he called Y/N.

Everyone's attention gets turned to Johanna in that moment, as she stared out at Finnick sat in the sand where the waves reached him. Beetee looked at her as if he already knew the story of the mysterious Y/N, while Katniss and Peeta sat waiting to be told the lore.

“She was the female tribute in the 65th hunger games.” “Finnick tried protecting her in the games, she was only 13 at the time.” Beetee continued to clarify once Johanna stopped talking. Katniss and Peeta looks at each other in confusion. “You didn’t think you two were the first did you?” Johanna’s question confused the pair even more.

“Both Finnick and Y/N survived? I feel like we’d know of her then.” Peeta questioned. “No no Peeta, she means the first to fall in love in the games.” Katniss gasped, sudden sadness washed over her. Finnick didn’t deserve to lose someone he loved. At the silence that took hold, Beetee spoke up feeling the need to explain Y/N to the unknowing.

“I was Y/N mentor, as I said she was only 13 when she was reaped... the youngest in the arena. She didn’t have any hopes of winning those games, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. She ran and hid for the beginning of the games, in a tree much like you Katniss. Finnick was killing tributes so fast I knew it was only a matter of time until he found her, but when he did he didn’t kill her-”

“How was I supposed to do that?”

Finnick’s voice startled everyone, looking up he stood and joined the group in retelling the story of Y/N.

“Y/N was too young, she had no chance of survival with the tributes that we had. She never trained, she knew the method of hiding she was going to use and she did it.”

“How- How did she die?” Peeta almost didn’t ask, but it was something he wanted to know, needed to know.

Finnick sighed, his head dropping at the memory of it, “Once she knew we were the only 2 left, she- she ran off and jumped off this-this waterfall, she couldn’t swim. She drowned. I tried to save her, but.”

Finnick stopped, he couldn’t bring himself to continue the story, “she made me promise her that when she had to die to make it painless but I couldn’t do it, she killed herself in one of the most painful ways.” “Drowning.”

“You went after her Finnick, you tried to save her.” Beetee tries to comfort the boy, but Johanna wasn’t having it, “And what Beetee, he revived her and then what? He’d just have to kill her anyways or kill himself. Who's to say she wouldn’t have killed him?-”

“Y/N wouldn’t have kill me, Johanna you know that!” Finnick snapped before retreating into himself. “I could’ve sworn- I felt her move.” He started as if he was questioning his memory but the sentence ended as a certain statement. They all looked at each other with sadness in their eyes. They and Finnick all know that if he was right, and Y/N was alive when they were taken from the arena, she was long gone by now. The Capital wouldn’t let 2 victors leave the arena.

“I felt her move. When we got taken from the arena. She moved.”

#finnick x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #hungergames #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger game x reader

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