#actually i don’t know if this qualifies as shower thoughts

[katiethepungoblin]

company town time loop story

The story begins when the protagonist decides to use some vacation time to take a day off work. The day after that the protagonist goes back to work. That day continues as normal, until the protagonist wakes up the next day to realize that a time loop is happening. There’s some Groundhog Day shenanigans until we notice that the protagonist is visibly aging as time goes on. It’s slowly revealed that the protagonist is not in a time loop; everybody working in the town got replaced by humanlike robots on the protagonist’s day off because, according to the owners of the company town, predictability makes a better workforce. The protagonist’s goal then changes from “break out of the loop” to “find out where the fuck the company took my friends” and possibly later “get this company out of the town entirely”

[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

i'll look after you | charles leclerc

prompt: everyone close to y/n is worried. she doesn't eat or drink enough and those are two extremely important things, especially this weekend. she will be racing in qatar at all time high temps. most worried is her best friend and teammate lando and secret boyfriend charles leclerc

warnings: discussions about not eating/ taking care of self, angst, fluff, cursing, injury, throwing up?, fear, fluff

No one expected Qatar to be so hot. Y/n stepped off of the plane, sweatshirt and sweatpants immediately causing her to sweat. She put her sunglasses on. “Who would’ve thought it would be this hot in the morning?” 

Her teammate Lando Norris responded, “Not me.” He pulled at the front of his black t-shirt. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead before climbing into a car.  “Hey.” He tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.

“Yeah?” She looked away from the window. 

“Are you alright?” He frowned. “You’ve just been off. You seem tired and-” He looked down at her figure, “have you been eating enough and drinking? If it's this hot on Sunday you’re gonna need to be fully nourished.”

“I’ve made the weigh-ins every weekend, so don’t worry, I’ll get us points.” She snapped.

“That's not why I’m worried.” He shook his head. “I want you to be alright.” 

The start of the weekend had been more peaceful than usual. Media had less sexist questions, the car felt good, and y/n had been more open to eating. She kept her head down as she went to her first meeting after FP3. She sat across from her trainer as he slid her a vegetable plate across the table. “Eat.”

“You’re wasting my time.” She glared at him. “I thought this was an actual meeting.”

“It is.” He nodded. “I need you to eat and drink as much as possible these next few days. This race is going to be so hot, you’ll lose a lot of water and a lot of weight. I know how serious you are about your racing and with your lap times these past three practices you have a good chance at qualifying front row.”

She sighed, staring down at an unappetizing plate. 

“Just take it to your driver's room with you and take a cold shower.” He pleaded.

“Okay. I will.” Y/n agreed. As she stood up her phone pinged. 

Charles: Come to my room?

                                                           Y/n: Sure.

She managed to subtly sneak herself into Ferrari hospitality and into Charles’ drivers room. “Hi.” She smiled shyly.

“Hi.” He hugged her before kissing her lightly on the cheek. 

“Lucky, you’ve gotten to shower.” She smelled his freshly washed hair, a comforting smell. She watched him as he glanced at the plate of food in her hand. 

“Let's eat.” He smiled, grabbing the plate from her and placing it on a table, ushering her to sit. 

“I’m not very hungry…” She breathed. “I would really love a shower though.” 

“We’ll shower after I see you eat a bit.” 

She took a bite of celery with hummus. Charles brushed a piece of her hair behind her hair, his movements so faint it tickled. He had convinced her to eat a few more vegetables before she decided it was time to wash herself off. He stood up with her, hand on her waist, ready to guide her to the bathroom. “Is it okay if I shower alone?” She whispered, touching his hand. “I’m just really tired and I need a cold shower and I know how you feel about those.”

Excuses to keep him away. “That’s fine.” He smiled. She smiled back at him, a hint of a sparkle. “Can we talk about something after you get out?”

“What is it?” Her smile flickered.

“M’just worried about you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is going to be a tough race.”

“Why are you acting like I can’t do it?” Y/n shook her head, feeling betrayed.

“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that you’re not taking care of yourself!”

“Whatever, Charles.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and I hope you clear your head while I’m in there.” Y/n washed herself, feeling a relief as the cold droplets of water relieved her hot skin. Her head drooped as she tried not to fall asleep cleaning her face. She slowly pulled on a white blouse with jean shorts, easing them onto her achy limbs. She pulled her hair into a braid, knowing the heat outside would dry it within minutes. Charles had passed out on the couch, y/n tiptoed around looking for her shoes.

“Baby…” He mumbled, slowly waking up, “Where are you going?”

She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to go get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.” 

He grabbed her waist before she could walk away. “I thought I was bringing you to the hotel.”

“Charles.” She tensed.

“What?” He sat up, offended.

“I’m stressed and the idea of us being seen together makes me even more stressed.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles’ brows furrowed.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He frowned.

“I have to go. I love you and I’ll text you later.” She walked away, shooing off his insecurities. 

The next day, Y/n had made it to Q3 and was starting in third the next day. She was disappointed she didn’t make the front row, but shrugged it off. Lando had pulled her into a hug before she hit the media pin. “Congrats!” He rubbed a hand on her back.

“Thank you.” She hugged him back. 

“You’re very hot…” He moved his hand to her face. “Here, take the rest of my water.” He forced it into her hand, knowing she didn’t drink water enough throughout the day.

“Thanks.” She accepted it, immediately taking a sip. Lando's eyes widened, surprised at her immediate acceptance. She stood outside the media pin and chugged Lando's water, searching for a cooling feeling. She felt a cold towel brace her neck and groaned at the relief. She turned around to see who had applied it and watched as Charles winked before entering the media chaos, no hard feelings from the night before. She followed shortly after.

After an hour of answering cryptic questions, denying answers about her personal life, and bragging about her grid-place she was able to escape. Charles waited for her to get out of meetings and strolled next to her. “Can I come to your room tonight?” She asked.

“Trying to distract me from the fact you’re starting a place behind me?” He joked.

“Just nervous…” She fiddled with her rings. “And you always help with my nerves.”

“Of course you can come to my room, Y/n.” He affirmed. “Always.” A wave of relief flooded over him when he realized he could monitor her closely. 

Y/n walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. It was quickly opened and she was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a glass of water. “It’s freezing in here.” She shivered. 

“Sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Y’know who I saw today?” He looked down at her.

“Who?” She held eye contact, his watercolor eyes gleaming. His eyes grounded her onto this earth. 

“I saw Daniel after qualifying.”

“How is he?”

“He thinks he might be given the opportunity to take over De Vries’ position at Alpha Tauri.”

Her eyes widened. “Jeez.”

“Yeah it’s rough.” He shook his head. The couple continued their chit chat as y/n slowly tucked herself into his bed. Charles sat on the other side of the bed, pulling out a carton of strawberries. “Here.” He gestured her to open her mouth and slowly fed her the fruit. 

“God, that's good.” Her eyes fluttered.

“You need to request some for your room next time.” He smiled. Her mouth formed a line as she delved deeper under the covers, turning the lamp on her nightstand off. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes before feeling Charles’ arms wrap around her. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. “I love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too.” 

Y/n pulled on a Mclaren shirt and a pair of jeans. “Fuck.” Charles cursed. “What is it?” She folded her collar before checking on him.

“It’s going to be over 100 degrees in that car tonight.”

“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged.

“Do you know how hot that is?” His face was deadpan.

“I’ll figure it out.” She joked.

“No. You’ll drink water and you’re going to eat breakfast with me so I know you eat before the race.”

“Calm down.” She folded her sleeping shirt, breathily laughing.

“This isn’t a joke you could seriously get hurt.”

“Okay.” She played along with his seriousness.

Charles had watched her eat breakfast before they got to track and he had to say his goodbyes. They did their pre-race ritual together. She hugged him, racing suit tied at her waist, his tied the same way. “Be mindful today.” He whispered into her ear. “Be safe.” He reaffirmed.

“You too, Charlie.” She kept a hand in his hair. 

“I have to go.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you no matter what.

“I love you.” She tugged at his hand before letting him go. 

Y/n’s engineer came to see her in the car before the race started. “Drink. That's all I ask of you.” He fastened the bottle of water into the car. “If you begin to feel sick at all, radio us. It is going to be up to 120 degrees in that car, we are not going to blame you for any safe moves. We want you to be safe.” He gave her gloved hand a squeeze. She nodded, pulling her visor down.

She had a good start to the race, keeping her starting position. 10 laps in she called in.

“The visor is super foggy, guys. It’s sweaty in here!” She half-joked.

“Try to wipe it when possible.” Someone responded.

After 40 laps she was told to pit. 

“Pit.Pit.”

“Okay.” Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, the hard tyres wore out pretty quickly.” She tried straightening out her breathing patterns. Drink. She tried to will herself, but her body wouldn’t do it. It was too focused on other things.  She had dropped down to fourth place, behind Lance Stroll. “My seat feels like it’s on fire!”

“Do you need to retire?” Zak responded.

“No, just throw some water on me or something!” 

It was lap 56, two laps left and she had caught up to Lance. 

“He’s struggling on these corners.”

“Be careful around him.” Her engineer radioed. “Something must be wrong, he’s acting erratically.”

She was able to overtake him.

Lap 57. Last lap. Last turn. Y/n reached the final straight.

“P3, P3!” People cheered over the comms, but she swore it was muffled. Everything was blurry as she pulled into the space dedicated to 3rd. She noticed her lover's red car in 2nd and Max Verstappens in first. Charles took his helmet and balaclava off, shaking  the hand of Max. The commentator waiting for interviews began to grow concerned when the third driver had still not gotten out of her car. He whispered around and soon enough word got around to the drivers. She reached her hand up to grasp onto the halo, but fell short.

“Y/n.” Charles peered into the car.

“Yes?” She wheezed. “Just-Just give me a minute-to-get out…” She began to grab at the car again. Multiple stewards gathered around her, plus Max and Charles. Charles placed his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up. “I got sick in my helmet.” She coughed. 

“Shhh…” He took off her helmet quickly. A stretcher was brought to her. 

“I don’t want to leave.” She hiccuped. “I have a podium to cele-” She dry-heaved, nothing to throw up, “Celebrate.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” He pleaded with her to get her onto the stretcher. Her face turned ghost-white.

“I’m really scared.” She whimpered. “And-and I feel like I’m going to faint.” Charles placed his hand behind her head as her body went limp, heart breaking while paramedics attending to her vitals. It was a scene for sure. Blue and red lights from an ambulance blocked the screen below the podium, people from Mclaren that were preparing for a podium celebration were now freaking out for their driver, and Charles Leclerc seemed to be the most worried for someone who wasn’t even his teammate. Those who could only see in from the outside watched as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before composing himself. Love. 

“I’m going to come see you as soon as I can get out of here.” He assured her. “I’m sure everyone will.” Throughout the interviews and the celebrations Charles bit his tongue. He noticed the other worn out drivers. Lance had passed out on the corners towards the end of the race, Logan had to retire, Esteban got sick in his helmet, and the rest of the grid was laying on the floor with wet towels and gallons of water. This was just unsafe. He got away from the track as soon as possible, rushing to the hospital. “Y/n.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she saw him enter the room. “Charlie.” She dropped the strawberry in her hands. He rushed to her, quickly but carefully embracing her. The doctor came in, informing him that she was dehydrated and hadn’t had enough protein. She listened as Charles, the entire grid of drivers, and her trainer coached her on how important a meal plan is and how a meal is not something you can forget. That night Lando fell asleep on the couch and Charles held her as tight as he could.

[cllightning81]

Panic - Part Four

Series Title : Younger Sister

Summary : Carlos is out ill and while Lando worries about him Ollie appears at your hotel room stressing because he now has to race

Pairing/s : Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader

Word Count : 2.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Previous

It had been a couple of months since the British Grand Prix, and it was now the Hungary Grand Prix. Staying in a hotel room with Lando had become normal, and you stopped bothering about it because, actually, it was nice. Having someone to talk to at all times but also knew that quiet was a good thing. Not only that, but both you and Lando had the same energy levels, which meant there was always something chaotic going on in that room. 

Lando had left a little early so that he could go to the gym before coming back to get you before finally going to the paddock so you were sat scrolling on social media waiting for Lando to get back when there was a knock on the door making you wander over to it as whoever was waiting on the other side kept knocking. Looking through the peephole, Ollie was standing on the other side, so obviously, you opened the door 

“Ollie are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down for any visible injuries as he walked past you into the hotel room, obviously finding it extremely hard to stay still 

“My parents' flight is delayed. I flew out with Ferrari cause I can but it’s delayed and I’m racing and there’s no one in the garage for me and I don’t know what to do cause its my first ever F1 race and I’ve only ever done practice and help” He rushed out and you looked at him taking everything in that he’d previously just flew at you

“Y/N say something” He whispered, rubbing his face as he paced the room 

“Your parent’s flights are delayed, well that’s okay cause they’ll be here. Flights get delayed all the time. You race all the time without your parents there you qualified on pole yesterday” You rubbed his arm, looking up at him. Why did he have to be so tall? It made comforting him so much harder. 

“Yeah but that’s F2 Y/N. This is F1” He whispered, and you looked up at him 

“Wait what? You’re racing in Formula One?” You exclaimed, taking a step back as he nodded “Okay well today's practice and quali. Wait who’s out?” You asked, confused 

“Carlos. Something about his appendix. He hadn’t been well all week” He explained, and you nodded

“I’ve never raced in his car, and I’ve never raced with his wheel, and I don’t know what to do Y/N” He whispered, and you wrapped your arms around him 

“Well lucky for you, my brother just so happens to be a Formula One driver on the weekends” you joked, and he laughed. You smiled up at him.

“I’ll come stand in the Ferrari garage, Ollie. Please don’t worry about it. The more you worry about it, the more you stress, which leads to bad racing and crashes. Ollie, they have so many drivers they could have put you in that seat, but they picked you, which means they trust you, so you need to enjoy the fact that you’re racing in Formula One!” You smiled, and he nodded 

“I’m racing in Formula One” He mumbled and you smiled watching him now enjoy the fact that he’s actually racing and he’s reached his dream even if it’s not the way he wanted to. Ollie hugged you back with a smile 

“What’s going on here?” Lando’s voice came as you turned to look at him 

“Ollie’s racing in Formula One” you cheered, bouncing over to Lando, who caught you very much used to the energy you have 

“Hey, that's a great man. You’ll do great, just remember to breathe because I forgot to do that the first time” Lando chuckled, placing you back on the ground 

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can get to the paddock” Lando walked into the bathroom, and you hugged Ollie again 

“You should go get ready for the day, but if you want me there, then just give me a text, okay?” You smiled, and he nodded 

“Thank you for that. I needed someone to rationalise my thoughts” You nodded, holding his hand 

“Don’t worry about it. If you’ve not already had a shower today, then go take a nice cold one, drink a bottle of water, and remember to enjoy yourself” You smiled, and he nodded, walking over to the door. You followed behind him with a smile 

“You’re great at the calming down thing” He smiled, and you chuckled 

“I do my best” Ollie walked back to his hotel room as you sat on the bed on your phone, going back to waiting on Lando. When Lando finally walked out the bathroom dressed in his Mclaren uniform, you jumped over to him with a smile  

“You’re so happy today? What have I missed?” He asked, confused 

“Can’t I be happy?” You asked following him out of the hotel room 

“You’re normally hyper, but you seem more hyper than normal” he shrugged 

“Maybe I’m a little happy that Ollie is racing today” You shrugged 

“You like him” He teased poking you in the side

“He’s just a friend” You shrugged

“We’re the same age it’s nice to hang out with someone my own age while following you about the world” 

“Mhm whatever you say. I like him, by the way” He shrugged, pressing the button in the elevator, leaning against the bannister in the elevator as it moved 

“I’m glad you like him” You rolled your eyes, stepping out the elevator and following him out to the Mclaren car awaiting his arrival. Oscar already sat inside, waiting for you both. Getting in the car, Lando forced you to sit in the middle of them, so with a huff, you complied. 

“Y/N has a boyfriend” Lando hummed, wiggling his eyebrows 

“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends” you whined, shoving him away 

“Ohh who?” Oscar asked 

“Ollie. He showed up at our room this morning” Lando hummed 

“He showed up because his parents were in England, and Ferrari just called him up” You rolled your eyes 

“Wait, who's not racing, by the way?” Lando asked 

“Carlos. Something to do with his appendix” you shrugged, and Lando instantly pulled his phone out of his pocket, panicking.

“Oh forgot about your boyfriend” You rolled his eyes, and he ignored your comment as Oscar laughed. 

Standing in the Ferrari garage felt wrong. Surrounded by red instead of papaya, but it was for Ollie, who was pacing about the place stressed before FP3. Everyone’s eyes were on him after the announcement that he was now driving. Ollie had taken to pacing three small steps slightly in front of you as he spoke to some members of the team. 

Walking over to him gently wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek rested against his back he tensed up for a second before his hands rested on top of yours and he relaxed now standing in the one place as he spoke to the team member causing you to smile that he was no longer burning a hole in the floor. 

You missed the cameras outside as you kept your arms around Ollie’s waist, but you certainly didn’t miss your phone exploding in your pocket. Charles smiled at you as he walked past back to his driver's room. 

“Hey why don’t you go into the drivers room and relax Ollie” one of the trainers said, joining the small group as Ollie nodded, taking you to the drivers room with him. Sitting on the small beanbag, you smiled at him. 

“You didn’t have to do that” He sat next to you, and you shrugged 

“You were burning a hole in the floor, and I know that you don’t make enough to pay for that” you joked, and he chuckled. 

“Thank you, though. I’m so stressed about today” You smiled softly, turning to him 

“I’ll make a deal with you” you hummed, and he nodded 

“Okay?” He frowned 

“If you get P15 or above in Quali I’ll go on a date with you. If you get P10 or above in the actual race, then I’ll go on two” You hummed, and he turned to you 

“Can I change that deal?” He asked, and you nodded slightly 

“Depends on what you want to change it to” You hummed 

“P15 or above in Quali a date tonight. P10 or above in the race and you become my girlfriend” You quickly turned to look at him 

“What?” You asked, confused. It wasn’t that you didn’t find yourself attractive or other people didn't. It was just that you’d never had a proper boyfriend before. Just teenage boys who wanted to one up their friends in their relationships. 

“Well obviously if I get that high, then I’ll ask you properly and take you on that second date, but obviously, if you don’t want to agree to my deal, then that’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable while you’re here making me feel like I’ve been racing in Formula one forever” He blurted going off on whatever he was saying with. Gently placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him back into the drivers room, he looked at you. 

“Olls. Please take a deep breath with me. I’d love to agree to your deal. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was forcing you into anything and we all know that I’m not just with you for money or anything like that cause that’s what older brothers are for” You joked and he chuckled 

“Well I guess I’ll be taking you on a couple of dates then” He hummed, and you chuckled 

“Cocky much” you joked, and he smiled 

“I’ll see you after FP3, right?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Of course you will and after FP3. We’re going to get lunch together” You smiled, and he walked out of the drivers room after pressing a kiss to your head. Finally checking your phone just to see a billion texts. 

Before you knew it, you were watching Quali, and it was the most stressful thing you’d ever watched. Not only was your older brother racing, but Ollie was doing his first ever F1 race and Quali. Ollie’s dad had arrived at the garage just as Ollie went out for Q1, so now he was standing next to you. 

David was stressing more than Ollie was this morning. Ollie got slightly close to the wall just as the cameras turned into the Ferrari garage catching David's face as it happened although you were just as stressed except you had a lot more practice at hiding it after watching races with people from school. David, on the other hand, was new to close family members racing in formula one. 

Ollie got himself through Q1 in P9 and into Q2. David walked over to Ollie’s car to say that he was here and to just focus on the race. You could see Oliver’s eyes as he pushed the visor on his helmet up. The stress that previously showed was no longer there. He looked like a kid in a sweet shop, and you couldn’t be prouder. 

Q2 started, and David took his place standing at the back next to you. The fifteen minutes of Q2 was soon over and Ollie was unfortunately knocked out in P11 but he was a few hundredths of a second away from knocking Sir Lewis Hamilton out of qualifying that was something to be proud of. 

Racing drivers had this thing where even when they drove exceptionally well they’d still beat themselves up even if there was nothing else they could have done and you knew by the look in Oliver’s eyes he was going to do exactly that except you now had practice and a deal you could cheer him up with. 

You smiled, giving Ollie a hug as he walked over after he got out of the car. He was sweaty, but it made you happy to see the happiness on his face. Like seeing Lando doing something he loved. 

“You did so well, Olls. You almost knocked Hamilton out. If you had another flying lap, you would have!” You exclaimed, and he smiled 

“You should go along to Mclaren while I do post Quali interviews. I know Lando would love to have you there, and Max is here today isn’t he?” He asked, and you nodded 

“The whole of Quadrant is here today. Something about Hungary being a good place for a new video? I don’t know. They tried to get me in it, but I refused” You chuckled, and he smiled 

“Be ready for seven?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You know where my room is” You walked along to the Mclaren garage with a smile hugging Max as you stood in hospitality with him and the rest of Quadrant. Ria smiled at you as everyone else was far too focused on Q3 that had just started.

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[wosoamazing]

Qualifiers

Warnings: Knee Injury, IDK

A/N: Just a bit of a fluffy fic I guess, hope you like it, also I'm currently on mid semester break, so I hopefully will be getting more fics out.

“Steph, have you noticed they’re behaving? Like it’s so quiet” Caitlin remarked as she sat opposite Steph on the bus.

“No, they’re not behaving, they are just asleep.” She replied pointing to the seats where you, Kyra and Charli were all fast asleep, your head leaning on Charli’s shoulder. Everyone shifted their bodies so they could get a view of the three of you, all taking photos, finding the scene in front of them very cute.

“They’re so cute,” “Yeah when they aren't being menaces, Y/N is a really sweet kid though, she just has a lot of energy, I think that stems from….” “Yeah she is great, and such an amazing talent too,” Caitlin rescued Steph as she drifted off, hoping to cover the unfinished sentence, Steph was about to mention your ADHD to the team, all the girls at Arsenal knew about it but Steph hasn't asked you if you were okay with the Matildas knowing.

“How old is Y/N though?” Raso asked

“She turns 17 in June,” “Oh so she is like a baby” “Yeah,” Steph nodded, smiling at you.

“She lives with you and Dean right?” Alanna asked.

“Yeah. Her parents approached us when they found out she was singing for the club and asked if we could take her in, in a way, and we said of course. The club signed off on it and so she moved in with us”

“Wait, how do her parents know you? Or was it random?” “No, we knew them, well more specifically her Dad from our time at Melbourne City, most of you would know him too, he is like on the board or part of the leadership team or something for City as a whole, she explains it much better than I do, but basically he is between all the city clubs and so she couldn’t live with them because they didn’t want her to be alone for long period of time.” They all nodded

“How is she going at Arsenal? She’s been getting a decent amount of minutes hasn't she?”

“Yeah she has. I think she really enjoys it”

“But wait, why does she play for Arsenal if her Dad works for City. Like are they not City fans?”

“Well I don't actually think she is allowed to play for city, but she grew up supporting both Arsenal and City, so I don’t think it really mattered. But I think the main reason is she can't actually play for city.”

“I think she’ll be good for the team, and she is a diverse player, I think Jonas being indecisive has helped that but I mean, it wouldn't hurt to have an all rounder, she is good at everything. I’m just glad she has settled in well, like I know you are all nice and wouldn’t be mean but she is just so much younger, even compared to Kyra. But to be fair she did already know Kyra so that helped. But if anything I’m seeing her more with Charli than Kyra so that is interesting” Caitlin added some food for thought.

“Yeah and something we need to keep an eye on.” Steph said referring to you and Charli spending time together, worried Kyra was getting left out.

_____

You were doing mini drills in teams, so you had a brief break. You walked up to Steph and gave her a hug, 

“Hey little one,” she said as she wrapped her arms around you to hug you back “you okay?”

You looked up to her “Yeah, am I not allowed a hug from my Stephy?”

“No, you are, of course you are. I just wanted to check if you were okay. You just seem a little off today that's all. But you know you can always talk to me about anything right?” Tony called both your names out as Steph was finishing what she said, so you let go of the hug rolling your eyes at her, before she put her arm around your shoulders and you walked off to Tony.

“Go have showers and get changed into clean training gear, the media team wants you both. Good work today though, love the effort.”

_____

“Yes Y/N” Tony said as you had your hand up, “Dad is calling me, I’m really sorry but could I answer?”

“Yeah sure, go ahead that is all good, let him know I said hi,” you nodded and walked out, normally Tony wouldn't let such a thing happen, but as you were younger he agreed.

You had just gotten off the phone with your parents, unfortunately they couldn't come to the game tomorrow, City needed your Dad for something, he was very apologetic and he had tried everything he could but City wasn't budging. Steph was right when she said you had seemed off today, because you were, you were just a little overwhelmed by everything that was happening, it was just lots of little things building to form one larger thing. You headed back towards the room feeling nervous for some reason, maybe you just weren't sure, you didn't really know, you hesitated slightly before opening the door, as you took a step in Steph immediately caught your eyes, she nodded to you and you made your way over to her rather than returning to your seat with Mini, Haper, Charlie and Kyra. A few tears left your eyes and Steph sat you down on her lap instead of you sitting down on the empty chair, you dropped your head into your hands and your body shook slightly as you silently cried. Steph rubbed your back as she looked up to Tony, who nodded at her and mouthed ‘go’.

“Hey, I’m going to take you up to my room, do you want me to carry you or do you want to walk?” You didn’t say anything but started walking, she followed behind, once you were out of the room you stopped and turned around to her, she picked you up and started heading for her room again. You weren't actually rooming with Steph but she knew you would want to be with her tonight, for some familiarity, so she placed you down on her bed before quickly going to get what you needed.

“Oh sorry,” Hayley said as she walked into the room, seeing you and Steph, you were still crying, you were just overwhelmed. 

“It’s all good, we’ve both had showers so if you want you can have one.” “Thanks.” 

By the time Hayley had finished her shower you were no longer crying however you still let out a shaky breath every now and then and from how you were playing with Steph’s rings she could tell you were still nervous. “Hey, you know you’re going to do amazing tomorrow, and if you make a mistake that's okay we all make them, and if you miss, that's okay as well, it happens, we’re humans we can't be perfect. But no matter what we are all going to be proud of you and the way you perform isn't going to affect how we all view you. You know they asked me how I would classify our relationship today, and I told them you were like my little sister. You know I love you right?” you didn't reply but nodded your head, she was a big sister to you, really everyone at Arsenal was like your big sister too you. A yawn escaped your mouth, “Lets get some sleep hey,” you shuffled around to be in a more comfortable position before you softly spoke “I love you too Steph”.

“Is she okay?” Hayley asked now that you were asleep. “Yeah, her parents just can’t make it to the game tomorrow and I think she is kind of scared, but she will be okay,” “Yeah, she is a great player, like really, I might head off to sleep now if that is okay with you,” “Yeah, see you in the morning.”

___

In the 22nd minute you scored your first national team goal, you were ecstatic however 5 minutes later that feeling disappeared when you were pushed, causing your knee to lock before twisting, you heard a pop in your knee, as a pain of wave rolled over it, the world around you went fuzzy, this couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be your ACL, you couldn’t handle that, this was your first cap and now you might be out for 9+ months. You were quickly pulled back to reality by Tony calling all the girls over, who were surrounding you,  they all dispersed except for one, who was wiping your tears away, as the medics assessed you. They gave you a green whistle before they stabilised your knee and moved you onto the stretcher, Steph wiped away the last few tears that appeared on your face, before placing a kiss on your forehead, you were then quickly taken down the tunnel, left in your own thoughts, you were so badly hoping it wasn’t your ACL.

There were about 25 minutes of the game left when there was a knock at the door, “come in” the door opened slightly to reveal Steph, whose eyes immediately melted when she saw you, your knee was heavily strapped and in a hinged brace, a pair of crutches leant against the bed.

“Oh, Y/N/N,” she said as she approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

The physio explained to her that you had dislocated your knee slightly, but they were able to put it back in place, she also explained that you had to keep the tape and brace on at all times, until you saw the specialist back in London, she explained they had booked in an appointment for you as well as an MRI.

“Is there any idea of when she can play again?” Steph said, now holding your hand in hers.

“We aren't able to say anything yet, there is no way of knowing what other damage was done, until she gets the MRI, the specialist will be able to tell you everything though when you see them.”

“Okay, thank you, are we able to head out to the pitch, or does she need to stay in here?”

“No, you’re all good to go out. I’ll give you two some space, just let me know if you need anything.” Steph nodded, you looked up to her, her gaze meeting yours.

“Do you want to go back out?” You nodded, “Okay, let's go.” Steph helped you get off the bed and she walked beside you as you slowly made your way back out.

The full time whistle was blown and the stadium erupted, the Matildas had just qualified for the olympics, Steph picked you up and spun you around, “We’re going to the olympics baby!”, you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t we it was her, their last number 20 did her ACL, maybe the jersey just came with bad luck.

[thepersonnamedsam]

baby me - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: charles had a bad race in spain and wants to be babied afterwards

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, xavi (bc he seems to be a trigger warning himself) and some google translated french

note: i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

masterlist / taglist

You watched FP1 and FP2 in your hotel room. The steam of your freshly hot shower was still lingering as you watched the cars drive in circles. It had went okay for Charles, not the best but also not the worst.

You watched FP3 from the Ferrari Motorhome. It went okay, with Charles at P7 Carlos at P4. Usually you would’ve watched the race from the stands with Isa, but something happened between her and Carlos some time before Spain. Charles had promised you all the gossip after the race. But with a qualifying like this? You’d doubt he’d tell you all the juicy details.

It was qualifying who hurt the most. It started to rain and nobody really got a good lap in before driver by driver retired from the race, so did Charles. Just, he was P19. Your heart hurt, clenched for your boyfriend. You knew he would be disappointed in himself.

You waited in the garage, Xavi was standing next to you and talked something about strategy to you. But you didn’t listen, you just waited for him to come back. When he did, he crumbled in your arms. You didn’t know if sweat droplets or tears hit your shoulders. Anyway you comforted the Ferrari driver as best as you could.

As he was taken to the car by his engineers, you gave him a good luck kiss and held on to his Forza Ferrari bracelet.

You didn’t really pay attention, well you did, but your focus wasn’t always on the TV i front of you. Every time they didn’t focus on Charles, your eyes drifted around the garage and you found something else that interested you more. As you watched the TV once more, you saw Charles was P7! He was in the points! He did it, he went from P19 to P7. He had done it again, he is sich’s brilliant driver. But then you heard Xavi talking to him. He told him to box. You heard your boyfriend complain about the tire change over the coms, but they changed them anyway.

That’s when it happened, he dropped out of the points again. Fucking Xavi. In the end, Charles finished the race with P11, which was a good progression, but still disappointing, at least for your boyfriend.

You waited for him. Waited until he finished his media duties. Waited for him to pack up and change back into his normal clothes. You waited for him to fall into your arms.

„Bébé, I want to go home. Please.“ You never heard this much sadness in his voice. It broke your heart. He was your everything and seeing him like this was the worst.

„Aww chéri, of course, I’ll take you home“, you whispered to him. His head laid on your shoulders. A déjà vu hit you, as you felt your freshly dried shoulder getting wet again. But this time you knew it wasn’t his sweat. You sighed, your arms stretched around his upper body.

„C’mon, ma lune my moon, let’s go to the hotel“, you told him and took him by his hand. Out of the paddock and in front of the car, you waited for him to get in the drivers seat.

„I don’t wanna drive anymore“, he said and threw the keys to you. You giggled a bit and changed sides with him. He almost never lets you drive, well usually you didn’t like to drive, but when you would like to drive, he mostly doesn’t let you. So, you take it with honour.

The ride was short and you were soon in the elevator up to your room. Charles looked tired, he was always tired after a race, but he seemed different tired. Like ‚tired of the world’ tired. He just seemed so, how could you best describe it? He just seemed so down. Like nothing could disappoint him anymore. As MJ from Spider-Man said: „If you expect disappointment you’ll never actually disappointed.“ You thought that this was exactly how Charles views his life at the moment.

His body seemed skunked down and his eyes deep in his socket. You saw the dark circles under his eyes, the gray hairs that are starting to grow and all the stress pimples on his face. You could’ve cried at his sight.

As the doors closed on the elevator, he leaned his body on yours. Your nails were scratching his back, up and down. You hummed lightly, doing the thing your mother used to do, when you were in a bad mood. You tried to soothe him. Did it work? You had no idea.

The ping of the elevator brought you back to reality and you took Charles by his hand and led him to your room.

„Peux-tu me chérir? Can you baby me?“, he asked you, as you closed the door. You took your shoes and jacket off. You did the same to Charles, his hoodie slipped right off his body and the jeans were long gone. Nothing was sexual about this, not even in the slightest. You gave Charles a big smooch and told him to wait for you.

The bathroom was big and bright, that’s why you tried to find some candles or something like candles - something that would dim the place a bit. The only thing you found were the lamps on your nightstands.

You ran a bath, put some bubbles in and ordered Charles to join you in the bathtub. You always took some face masks with you. Charles closed his eyes as you put it on his face. „My pretty baby“, you cooed. He was truly magnificent. „Let’s take a relaxing bath, yeah?“

You climbed into the tub first, you let him rest his back on your chest. Again, there was nothing sexual about this. He soon changed the position and laid his head on your chest. Your hands around his back, you scratched his skin with your nails. They left thin red marks on it. His arms were stretched around your shoulders and he squeezed them to his body.

You reached to the shampoo on the side and you squirted some on your hand. You rubbed them together and massaged his head. He sighed. His body visibly relaxed, slouched against yours. The mood lifted and you could feel his heart starting to beat slower. You were glad that he started to relax.

You removed his face mask, massaging the rest of the serum into his skin. „Mon joli bébé my beautiful baby“, you murmured, „you deserve the world, chéri.“ He breathed heavily, almost on the verge of crying again, but he held himself back.

„Mon soleil my sun, let it out, it’s okay“, you reassured him and the dam broke. His sobs broke your heart, it clenched for him. You’d do anything- you’d give anything for his happiness.

„Baby, c’mon, I’m gonna wash your hair real quick and we’ll get out and go to bed m, sound good?“, you asked him and he just nodded. You washed his hair and dried him when he stepped out of the tub - just like a baby.

His body still slummed agains yours, he leaned all his weight on you and you were happy to carry it for him. You rubbed his shoulders, humming a soothing tune again.

„Allez petit garçon c’mon little boy, let’s go to bed“, you ordered him to bed. The white and soft cushions seemed so inviting. The satin covers soft against your newly washed skin. You both sighed as you sunk into the bed. The heaviness of the day only seemed to kick in now. Your shoulders stiff and heavy but it was okay - it was okay because of him. You did it all for him.

You both snuggled into the bed, his head laid on your chest, again, and your hands in his hair - scratching and tugging. „I love you, je t‘aime tellement I love you so much“, you told him.

„I love you more, mon amour my love. And I am so grateful for you. Thank you.“

°°°

taglist: @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @topguncultleader , @ironmaiden1313

[captain-hawks]

Happy spicy, sweaty sleepover!

I just know you’ll write something so, so delightful for band!AU Jean with a broken AC. Like, I know know it.

💋mojogojocasahouse

jean kirstein x f!reader

c: 18+ only, exes to lovers speed run, band!au jean, masturbation, fingering, oral sex, anal fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — HEAT WAVE EDITION

There has to be correlation, somewhere, between one’s innate penchant for masochism and the subsequently awful, irresponsible, downright terrible decision to call one’s ex-boyfriend to help fix a busted appliance.

But alas, here you are, sweating to death in the midst of the worst heat wave the city’s seen in years with no qualified, local repairman available any time in the foreseeable future—because clearly your broken air conditioner is somehow considered fucking trendy right now. 

The thing is, it’s not the first time the machine has let out an ominous death rattle before the motor inside fell into an ominous silence. It’s not even the second time it’s happened, or the third.

But every other goddamn time it did, Jean still lived here in your shared apartment. And his deft fingers, paired with years of tinkering with guitars, amps, speakers, and pedal boards, somehow led him to find the fix time and time again. 

It’s been three months since your messy breakup, three months of deafening silence and empty space in your one-bedroom apartment. He’s been living with Eren and Conny, though half of his clothes are still strewn about in your closet—until he finds his own place. 

You have half a mind to drag the pile out shirts out and toss them at him one by one, if only to cover up the torturous sight you’ve been subjected to for the better part of an hour.

Jean Kirstein, for all intents and purposes, is an attractive man. And you were prepared for it, the slight inconvenience of the sight of his soft brown hair, sharp jaw, intense eyes, and tall form standing in the hallway when you opened the front door.

But Jean Kirstein standing in the middle of your living room, muttering a string of expletives under his breath as he swiftly bats a hand against the temperamental air conditioner before standing up straight to peel off his soaked t-shirt? The reminder of the way the tattoos covering his arms and chest and back look when they’re coated in a slick sheen of sweat? The ripple of his muscles as he twists a wrench? 

That’s another fucking problem entirely.

“You don’t look too hot.”

Jean’s voice spears through your thoughts, and you look up from where your hands are folded in your lap to see him standing in front of you in the kitchen. Seated atop the kitchen counter if only for the relief of the cool marble beneath you, one of your idly swinging feet nudges his knee. 

His voice is a bit rough, and you can only assume that he came right to your apartment from band practice. 

(You try not to think too hard about how he knows exactly what that voice does to you—the way you barely made it past the entryway most times coming home after his shows, your skirt shoved up as he fucked you up against the wall beside the coat rack.)

(The way he’d call you late at night while he was away on tour, his voice a low rasp as you hung on to his every word and touched yourself for him.)

“I’m very hot, actually,” you reply with a raised brow, though you’re well aware you probably do look like an overheated, exhausted mess—you’ve hardly gotten any sleep all week, even with a fan right beside your bed. 

Jean steps closer and leans in, standing between your spread legs, and your heart feels like its lodged in your throat as he holds your gaze. Slowly, he brings his hand up to rest against the side of your neck, fingers easing their way against your damp skin one by one in a way that makes your breath catch. 

“You should take a cool shower,” he suggests, his thumb ghosting over the front of your throat before he swiftly steps back and walks away, heading back into the living room.

Fingers clasping the edge of the countertop, you inhale sharply.

Admittedly, Jean was right about the shower—you feel a bit more steady on your feet as the water washes over your face and trickles down your naked body, washing away the uncomfortable, sticky layer of sweat. 

Maybe it’s a little misguided, the way you let your thoughts get away from you as you glance down at your soapy tits, remembering how much Jean used to love how sensitive they are. How he’d groan and curse over the way you’d writhe when he toyed with your pebbled nipples, the way you’d whimper and moan as he sucked on them.

Running your hands over the swell of your breasts, you sigh, letting your back rest against the cool tiles as you stroke and tease the tender buds until they’re rock hard beneath your touch. You grope and caress yourself, imagining that it’s Jean in the shower with you.

You're tempted to make a mad dash for your room, to lock the door and stuff the fat dildo in your bedside table into your wet cunt, to quickly fuck yourself on it until you’re sated enough to face the shirtless man in your living room without being distracted by stray thoughts of laving your tongue against the hollow of his throat.

It’s a half-baked plan seasoned with nothing but the delirious power of your lust-driven thoughts.

It's stupid.

It’s reckless.

And it almost fucking works, almost, until Jean suddenly comes barging into the bedroom in the middle of you face down on the bed, frantically humping the dildo like your life depends on it, the slick silicone lubricated on nothing but your gushing arousal. 

Jean stops dead in his tracks and stares at you, speechless for what may very well be the first time in his life.

You stare back at him, shaken from your stupor only when the dildo suddenly slides out of your pussy with a lewd popping sound. 

“Jean, what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, some part of you almost proud of how steady your voice comes out.

He blinks several times. “I needed a new shirt,” he gestures toward the door, “and the bathroom door is shut, I thought you were still in there.”

You blink back at him, all too aware of the filthy, slick arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. “Oh.”

He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, toward the closet, and then back to you. “Do you…” he trails off.

“Do I…”

“—need a hand?”

You could probably blame it on the heat, the way you almost robotically nod. The way you hardly bat an eye when Jean climbs up on the bed behind you.

It’s surely a symptom of heat exhaustion, perching on all fours atop your mattress as your ex-boyfriend presses a hand into the small of your back while he thrusts a dildo in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

That stupid fucking air conditioner is definitely, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt to blame for what happens next—when you flip over onto your back and spread your legs wide, gazing up at Jean’s lust-blown pupils as he continues to fuck you with the toy.

Your breakup was so goddamn stupid and petty and shortsighted��and you were both too stubborn to admit it in the aftermath. 

“Please let me eat you out,” Jean exhales, dragging a hand through his messy brown hair to push it out of his face.

You nod, fervently, though you’re still tempted to drag his hips flush against yours, to tell him how badly you need to be fucked instead. 

But when he laps a broad, firm stroke through your slick, creamy folds with his dexterous tongue, your mind goes blank in a haze of pleasure. 

Jean has always been far too good at this.

He alternates between lapping at your slit and licking his way into your tight entrance, and sucking on your clit as he plunges two long digits in and out of your wet hole, one hand splayed across your abdomen to hold you down as you whimper and buck your hips.

“You taste so good,” Jean groans, his own hips jerking into the mattress as you gasp, your entire body arching up off of the bed when one of his slick fingers slides beneath you and begins to stroke the rim of your ass.

He eases your other tight hole open, saliva and your sticky arousal running down his chin as he messily fucks your cunt with his tongue.

“Jean,” you gasp when he finally sinks a finger deep in your ass, your gut engulfed in a wave of white-hot pleasure.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, tongue tracing firm circles against your clit while he curls his fingers and strokes the spongy, sensitive wall atop your tight channel.

You come with a shout as the coil of pleasure inside of you snaps, clear liquid spraying from your cunt as you tremble and shake and gush all over Jean’s fingers and face. 

“Holy shit,” Jean groans, hips rocking even harder into the bed—it always did drive him out of his mind when you squirted.

As you come down from your orgasm, Jean leans back into a sitting position, unzipping his pants and letting his throbbing, hard cock spring free from the confines of his boxers. He crudely spits into the palm of his hand, groaning your name as he tosses his head back and begins to fuck his fist, spreading the precum leaking from his tip with his thumb. 

You don’t think twice about the way you scramble forward and climb into his lap, nudging away his hand and wrapping your fingers around his length. 

Waiting a beat, you meet his gaze, somehow still not entirely sure if he actually wants to fuck you.

Jean chokes out a laugh, reading the uncertainty in your eyes and reaching up to cup the side of your face before he leans in to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, words he stubbornly couldn’t bring himself to say months ago.

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmur, and you mean it.

And then all it takes is the familiar grip of his hands on your hips to guide you down onto his cock, your cunt rapidly pulsing and contracting at the searing, intoxicating stretch, and both of you moan in unison.

Jean kisses you hard, his mouth engulfing yours and swallowing down the gasping, whimpering sounds you make as he fucks up into you, bullying his cock as deep as your greedy, needy pussy will take.

“I fucking missed you so much,” he rasps, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, one hand reaching up to grasp your tits.

It’s so goddamn hot in your bedroom, and it’s downright filthy, the slick slide of Jean’s sweat-soaked skin against yours, the way his hair is damp with it, the salt you taste on your tongue as you press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the tattoo that wraps around the side of his neck.

It’s hot and filthy and sweaty and you’re not sure if you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, so ridiculously wet, each plunge of Jean’s cock punctuated by the lewd squelch of your soaked pussy. 

“Jean—” you whine, dizzy with desperation and need.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, cradling your body as he switches your position, laying you down flat on your back as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

And maybe it’s the way he begins to toy with your clit again.

Maybe it’s the sight of the creamy ring of your arousal coating the base of his cock.

Maybe it’s the look in his eyes as he stares down at you beneath him.

—either way, you’re helpless to do anything but cry out and moan as another orgasm breaks through the heady dam of pleasure flowing inside of you, your vision nearly going black as he fucks you through it.

And you can tell he’s close, too, you can feel it in the way his thrusts suddenly grow sloppy, the way his breathing goes ragged.

“Inside,” you breathe out.

Jean’s answering groan is absolutely wrecked as he slams his cock in you to the hilt, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum in your fucked out cunt until it’s overflowing and dripping onto the sheets below.

When he eventually collapses beside you on the bed, you’re not sure if it’s intentional—the fact that he ends up on the side that was always his. 

But you don’t question it, not now.

Not later when the morning sun is peeking through the blinds and he’s snoring softly beside you.

Not even when you wake again to the sound of the air conditioner sputtering to life in the living room, the mattress dipping beside you as Jean pulls back the sheet and tugs you back against his chest.

[odigaon]

gym pics

summary: your boyfriend decides to post a not so innocent picture on bubble and you can’t resist him.

pairing(s): oh seungmin x afab! reader

warnings: unprotected sex (i think this is really the only one)

word count: 2.8k

unedited!

Waking up to a noisy notification on your phone was not how you really wanted to start your day. The brief nap you had managed to slip in after getting your daily to do list done ended up lasting far longer than you meant it to and left you feeling groggy rather than refreshed. Blinking your eyes open slowly, you blindly slide your hand across your bed to reach your phone.

Coming to the realization that it was a bubble message makes you smile to yourself, “Probably just one of the guys updating villains on what they’ve done today,”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the heart attack waiting for you after your phone unlocks and opens to the bubble app.

Your boyfriend Seungmin, shirtless, covered in sweat, and a magic 8 ball sticker covering his face. Holy hell. This was NOT what you expected to wake up to. Frantically closing and reopening the app, you’re met with the same exact sight. Your boyfriend, looking absolutely scrumptious. You admittedly stare at that picture longer than you needed to. I mean, who wouldn’t? Every single villain is probably having the same thoughts about Seungmin that you are right now which undoubtedly makes you a little jealous, however, you can actually do something about it.

Quickly hopping out of bed and striding over to your dresser, you pull out a simple t-shirt that once was Seungmin’s and a pair of exercise shorts. You debate on whether to change your steadily dampening underwear, but ultimately decide to leave it on as a little surprise for your boyfriend. You shoot a quick text to Seungmin to let him know that you had woken up from your nap and were on the way to the company to join him at the gym. After pulling on your clothes and throwing your hair up in a small ponytail you receive a text from your boyfriend.

“oh baby you don’t have to come here if you just woke up! it’s getting late so I’ll probably be leaving here soon anyways.”

A small pout frames your face at that, but you understand that he’s been hard at work all day so you don’t want to keep him there any longer than he wants to be.

“oh okay. do you wanna come over after you’re done? i miss you :(.”

“of course i wanna come see my baby! i’ll be there soon, my love :).”

At that you sigh happily, missing him was sometimes hard on you. Lately with the group’s comeback coming up you haven’t gotten to see Seungmin nearly enough to satisfy your craving for him. Laying back down on your bed, you decide to turn on the TV and wait for Seungmin to arrive at your apartment.

After about an hour, you hear your front door close and Seungmin call out for you, “Jagiya? Are you awake?” Lifting your head up off the pillow and turning down the volume on the TV, you call back to him, “In my room, babe!” You hear his footsteps start down the hall and continuously grow louder until they stop just outside your door.

“Knock knock?” he says whilst pushing your door open.

He softly walks into your bedroom and closes the door behind him, leaving him standing in front of you in a pair of black sweats, a white tank top, and a black jacket. God you could really jump his bones right at this moment.

“You know it doesn’t really qualify as knocking if you don’t actually knock?”

A small giggle leaves him at that. After shucking off his jacket and laying it on your desk chair, he starts to walk over to you to give you a quick kiss before going to shower.

“You comfy in there?”

You sure as hell are. You’ve wrapped yourself in a cocoon of blankets, but little does he know, you’ve given yourself just enough wiggle room to where you can thrust your arms out and wrap Seungmin up before he can run off.

He leans over you and places his left hand next to the right side of your body and his right to the left side of your head.

“Have you had a good day today?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Yeah. I just ran some errands and cleaned up around the house. Dee has been out all day with Junhan.”

“Oh yeah? Well we know what they’ve been up to then, huh?”

You laugh a little at that. Yeah, you know what they’ve gotten up to. The periodic texts from your best friend let you know that they had went out and run some errands of their own, and then went back to the dorm and fucked for hours on end.

Seungmin smiles at you and begins to lean down towards your face to give your long awaited kiss and you decide to make your move.

“OOMF!”

You shoot your arms out of the blanket and trap them around Seungmin’s neck; effectively startling him and allowing you to trap him against your chest for a brief moment. Using all the leverage your body can muster, you roll over with Seungmin so you can trap him beneath you.

“What the h-”

“What the fuck was that picture you sent on bubble today Oh Seungmin? Huh? Do you want me to die? Do you want me to kill YOU?”

His whole chest starts to shudder with laughter.

“Ah I forgot you had my bubble, baby. Did you like it?”

“Did I like it? Are you serious right now?”

You sit up so you’re straddling his abs. Seungmin starts to let his hands travel up your legs and up to your waist where his hands seem to have a mind of their own and begin to rub your hips. It doesn’t even seem like he’s paying attention to you anymore. His eyes have begun to rake up and down your form sitting atop him.

“Fuck is that my shirt baby? And my favorite shorts?”

His hands reach around to grab a handful of your ass. Now this was not a part of your plan. You were supposed to fluster Seungmin and be in control of the situation; not the other way around. The smallest moan escapes your lips and you pray Seungmin doesn’t hear, but unfortunately the way his eyes find yours tells you that he in fact did. His hands travel back to your hips and gently push at them until you’re forced shimmy backwards: directly over his hardening cock that you can feel perfectly through his sweats and your thin exercise shorts. Your tongue darts out to lick your suddenly dry lips before Seungmin sits up and captures your lips with his. A surprised moan leaves you but is muffled by Seungmin’s mouth against yours.

“Mi-Min ah fuck, please,” you whisper after you manage to part from Seungmin for a brief second. You’re not even quite sure what you’re begging him for, but you know what you want the end result to be: his cock inside you.

You feel his hands start to slowly grind your hips back and forth over top his hips. Grunts begin to leave his mouth as he quickens your pace. Your hands begin to fumble around searching for the hem of his tank top. When you finally find it, you begin to frantically tug at it to alert Seungmin of your desire to rid him of it. After finally taking the hint, he pulls away from you in order to pull the piece of clothing over his head and toss it away from your figures. He then goes for the hem of your shirt and tugs it off of you along with your sports bra before pulling you back into him. His lips slowly and sensually move against yours before his tongue slips out to attempt to part your lips. Allowing him entrance, your tongues begin to dance around each other.

Before long, he’s flipping the two of you over and trailing kisses down your body. Quiet moans are leaving you at your boyfriend’s sensual touches. He reaches the waistline of your shorts and you lock eyes with him before he smirks and begins to pull them and your underwear off you.

Spreading your legs so he can get a good look at your pussy, he starts trailing his lips and fingers up and down your inner thighs to tease you.

“Min. Please. I’m begging you not to tease me,” you muster.

“What? My baby doesn’t like it when I tease her?” he chuckles.

“No please Min. I need you.”

At that, he pushes his arms underneath your thighs and throws your legs over his shoulders, grabs your ass, and buries his face in your pussy. God that tongue of his. It’s working magic over your clit and across your folds. His lips then wrap around your clit and begin to suckle lightly while his right hand leaves your ass and begins to make its way to your entrance. His middle finger circles your entrance before slowly pushing in and out to stretch you out and prepare you for a second finger. Even with one finger you’re already keening and beginning to feel the first effects of your orgasm creeping up on you. After pushing a second finger in, you realize that the picture Seungmin posted on bubble must’ve really affected you a lot more than you think. Your orgasm is already fast-approaching and Seungmin isn’t showing any signs of edging you like he normally does.

“Mi-Min ah. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me baby?”

“Are you gonna let me?”

“I’m feeling nice tonight. Cum whenever you want baby.” he says just before reattaching his mouth to your clit.

That’s all you need to hear before the floodgates are opening and you’re releasing all over Seungmin’s face. He stays between your legs while you ride out your orgasm and only stops once you start to twitch out of oversensitivity.

“Feeling good baby?”

“Yeah,” you moan out, “I want more, Min.”

“More? What more could you possibly want, huh?” he teases.

“Please Min, don't make me beg.”

“I let you cum whenever you wanted. The least you could do is beg for it a little.”

You sigh out. Of course he’s going to make you beg for it. Nothing is easy with Seungmin when it comes to sex.

“Please Min I want it so bad. Wan’ your cock inside me. Wanna cum on your cock and be good for you, please. Wanna make you feel good, Minnie.”

He groans a little at your begging and pushes himself up to strip off his remaining clothes. Afterwards, he kneels in front of you in all his naked glory, with one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping himself to get ready to finally push inside you.

When he finally does, it feels like heaven. The groan Seungmin lets out is magnificent and your pussy is wetly clamping down on his cock and making it harder for him to push further inside.

“Ah ah baby. Relax for me, beautiful. Can’t fuck you how you want if you don’t let me in.”

You whine at that and try your best to relax yourself. Eventually, the tenseness leaves your body and Seungmin promptly begins to slowly fuck into you.

“There we go, baby. I knew you could do it for me.”

You start letting out quiet moans as his cock drags against that especially sensitive spot inside you that only he can seem to find. You feel like you’re already on cloud nine: one orgasm down and another seems to be fast approaching. You let your hands wander up his arms and across the expanse of his back where he feels your nails bite into skin, causing to arch his back and drive a little deeper into you. You bite your lip to muffle yourself, but Seungmin is having absolutely none of that. He just starts fucking into you harder.

“You thought you were gonna come to the gym in those clothes baby? What? Did that picture turn you on so much you started thinking with your pretty pussy instead of this pretty little head of yours? You forget that you’re mine baby. I don’t think I like the intentions you had with wearing that and planning on coming to the gym. You know how many people could’ve seen this perfect ass of yours? How many guys would’ve been drooling over you?”

You can’t even think at this point. The words he says make sense, but seem to go in one ear and out the other. Your nails start leaving bright red lines down his back in attempts to ground yourself in the midst of him fucking you like a slut. Your orgasm that once was only fast approaching, is now leaving you teetering at the edge of a precipice. But you know better than to cum without permission.

“Mi-Min. Minnie. Seu-Seungmin. Can I? Please can I cum?”

“Cum for me baby. Wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

You let go and swear that you black out just a little bit from the intensity of the orgasm. At this point, only high pitched whines are leaving your mouth coupled with the need to feel Seungmin cum inside you.

“Please! Seu-Seungie. Min-Minnie please I need to feel you. Please, please, please…” you babble out.

He lets out a hoarse chuckle at that, “Oh yeah? Does my baby want me to fill her up with my cum? God you’re such a good girl. I love you so much baby. Don’t worry, I'll give it to you.”

After that, his thrusts speed up with the intent to fill you. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head with the force behind his thrusts. Seungmin’s lips find yours as his rhythm becomes sloppy, and with one last thrust Seungmin is sitting up on his haunches while he grinds himself into you in an effort to cum as deep inside you as possible. His grunts and groans are music to your ears and evidently your pussy as well because before you know it you’re coming again. His hands grasping your hips are leaving harsh fingerprint marks that will surely bruise tomorrow, but you could care less.

His hands release their grip on your hips and go back to rubbing your sides and legs.

“You doing okay baby? I wasn’t too rough was I?”

You can barely get the words out but you manage a quiet “Mmhm. Feel good,” and Seungmin smiles at you.

“I’m gonna pull out now okay, baby? I’m gonna grab a warm towel to clean you up okay?”

He slowly pulls out of you and you wince slightly, but Seungmin remedies your pain with a quick kiss on the lips before springing out of bed to go grab the necessary materials to clean you up. After striding out of your room, completely naked and looking delicious enough to have you wanting another round, he returns with a small towel and begins to gingerly wipe the cum and sweat off you while humming softly.

Tossing the cloth off to the side, Seungmin quickly lays down and pulls the blanket over the top of both of you and then opens up his arms as an invitation for you to snuggle into him, which you gladly accept. Burying your face into his chest, you can feel his heartbeat and his breaths becoming slower and longer. You know in your heart that this is where you belong. Right here, in your bed, in the arms of the man you love more than anything in the entire world.

“I love you, Seungmin.” you mumble.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Just then you hear the front door open and shut. You and Seungmin both look at each other in confusion, before you realize that it’s probably just your best friend/roommate and maybe Junhan.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear two sets of footsteps walking down the hallway just before they reach your door.

“Can I come in?” you hear Dee ask through the door.

“Yeah its safe. Be warned I am naked, but I’m under the covers.”

“I don’t know if I want to come in then.”

“JUST GET IN HERE, JESUS.”

Your door creaks open before Dee exclaims, “Why the fuck does it smell like sex in here- Oh god nevermind!” before she’s slamming your door shut.

“YOU COULD’VE AT LEAST TOLD ME THAT THE BOTH OF YOU WERE IN THERE!”

You and Seungmin both erupt in laughter before you turn and snuggle back into him. Yep. This is exactly where you’re meant to be.

a/n: thank you all for all the love on my last post! i hope you all enjoyed this one!

[justenjoythegossip]

Immigration questions, truths, lies and speculation: a few random thoughts…

Use of her immigration status to discredit the wedding…

Abba’s legal status is a topic that has been brought up so much by Team PR blogs, especially to discredit the fact there was any marriage at all, that it’s interesting to ask ourselves why. Although I won’t pretend to answer any of those questions. I know absolutely nothing about her legal status but I am pretty sure that neither do those mods that pretend to. Unless they have a source or informant at the immigration bureau, but I seriously doubt it. 

Truths, lies and speculation…

I’ll do my best to sum up what have been said on the subject. Allegedly Abba has used a tourist Visa to enter the US, that’s why she goes back to Portugal very often and is never seen in the USA. She couldn’t have a work visa because she is not shooting any movie or TV show on US domestic soil. She couldn't have an Einstein Visa because she has no talent. She couldn’t have petitioned for a fiancée visa neither because she would have had to stay put and wait a few years for her citizenship and so traveling abroad for her second kinda wedding would have been out of the question. Also they added that this information was on the public record.

There’s some truths (like always), some wild speculation and some clear lies. 

First of all, someone’s immigration status is not really public information. Sure there is a number you can call to check an immigration status but you do need some personal information like name, date and place of birth which are easy to find for sure but also… a 13-character receipt number from your application or petition. She did share a shower porn with the world, but I don’t think she ever volunteered information regarding her travel documents or petition. So how would people know anything regarding her legal situation? 

Where has she been?

An important topic of discussion has been about her whereabouts. Interesting enough, that girl has been mostly MIA for the last couple of years. Has she been hiding in a basement or is she a ghost? We know she sort of pops out for certain events used for PR purposes (papwalks, a fashion show, the ghosted premiere, the GQ event) but she was not even seen for their alleged first wedding, nor for their alleged second wedding.  

Also interesting, she deactivated her location on Instagram a while ago so that no one could actually know where she is. The last time it was active was when she was shooting a movie with Anne Hathaway in Germany. It’s safe to assume that she doesn’t want people to know where she is because this way, she can be placed anywhere… anywhere where Chris is of course. 

What could her legal status be?

A dual citizenship is unlikely, for sure. She wasn’t born in the US and although we know she has a sister who lives there (and maybe she even has other family relatives who knows), she would have had to reside in the states for years to get it. 

But is a work visa out of the question? Of course, she hasn’t and is not shooting anything on US soil. But if there is a PR contract, doesn’t PR work qualify as… work? There are the papwalks of course, but also all the trips she had to take in order for them to shoot the material they needed (pictures and videos used for ridiculous cringy photo montages that were posted on Instagram stories). CAA (or another entity) could have very well sponsored her for a work visa and have her do all kind of stuff. We know how powerful this company is, how shady it is and how much pull it has. It is out of the realm of possibilities? 

And guess what, you can travel abroad under a work visa for business purposes (to shoot a movie in Germany for ex) or for a vacation (to the Bermuda for ex), you just need to have your travel permit approved. 

I am not saying she has a work visa btw, just that it’s possible and that there is no actual proof to say otherwise. It’s pure speculation. Like those mods are doing and passing for actual truth. 

I will add that I once asked one of those so-called Team PR blog for some precisions about this topic. It was someone I had very cordial talks with (I even provided them with material they used for their blog). They never answered those questions of course. Sidenote they blocked me after my pinned post defining who those blogs are and what they were doing without ever naming anyone and when they had never followed me in the first place. Make of that what you will. 

The (apparent) absence of marriage license and the fiancée visa?

A marriage license is actually a lot easier to find though because the public records are a lot simpler to access. Of course, there are a few exceptions, if you filed in California for example (but not realistic in their case) or if you filed a special request in front of a judge to have the records sealed. Up until now, no one has found their marriage license. 

No publication (no TMZ, not anyone) published it when we had trillion articles about their wedding but no confirmation from either of their teams for more than a month… until Chris’ appearance at the NY con. Also we can assume that a license would have probably popped out on one Team Real blog if such proof existed (faking a yoga certificate is one thing but faking such documents would be a federal offense).

By the way, Chris told us that he and Abba are NOT legally married. The words he used at that Con were so very specific: "kinda ceremonies". KINDA... Go Portugal! So he definitely put an asterisk to the marriage narrative. And I should add that no rep confirmed their marriage, another confirmation of their non-marriage.

But then again you could speculate that they had a kinda sorta spiritual Buddhist non-binding ceremony. I think team real blogs have supported this theory at some point if anyone wants to believe it. But in that case, if she wouldn’t petition for a dual citizenship and stay in the USA with her work visa, she wouldn’t face legal issues and she could pop in and out of the country with her approved travel permit. 

Again I am not saying it’s the truth, just that those immigration questions are very complex and are very unlikely to shed any light on that shitshow. 

Why use speculation (or even a blatant lie) to discredit another lie?

The question remains. Why would you need to bring up this topic to discredit a wedding when actual facts don’t add up? Some mods have done a fantastic job pointing them out. 

What purpose do those alleged immigration issues serve? Do they discredit Team PR blogs? Do they serve as an actual diversion? Because one thing is certain we don’t need those to question their kinda ceremonies, do we? 

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 7: Something To Celebrate

“Up and at ‘em, 0011.”

Q’s wake-up call jolts me from a restful sleep. I see he’s showered and dressed in a new suit, making me a tad frustrated that I can’t stand up to clean myself yet. I’ll have Eve help me later.

“Good morning, Quartermaster. Sleep well?”

“Like the dead. You?”

I chuckle darkly. “Like I’m a 00 agent who’s being hunted.”

He hands me a blueberry muffin, which I have no doubt he baked himself. “I wish I could help, but I’m afraid the only way to assure your identity can be wiped clean is the capture of Silva.”

Is he actually showing empathy? Q really must have gotten a good sleep for him to be so laid-back. 

“Ready for work?” I ask as I devour the muffin.

Q brings over my wheelchair and helps me into it. My leg is already showing improvement.

“Sure am. I’m hoping there’s news from Bond.”

I let out a heavy sigh as he pushes me out the door. “You and me both. No doubt he’s destroyed something.”

Q groans. “If I have to repair that radio transmitter again…”

We take another company SUV (Q must have pulled some strings) and arrive to work half an hour early. The minute we enter I see Mallory is waiting for us.

“Good. You’re here. Q, where is Bond?”

I can’t see Q’s face, but I can tell he’s trying to construct a lie. “Like I told you yesterday, sir. He disappeared off our radar.”

Mallory isn’t convinced but gestures for us to pass. Deep down I’m glad to know I’m not the only one being left in the dark. Soon enough we see Eve walking towards us.

“M’s dead.”

Q stops dead in his tracks and spins me around so we’re facing her. I’m not supposed to form attachments, but M was one of the first people to welcome me into the MI6. She made me learn that you don’t need a family to have a good life, you just need to find a purpose for yourself. And mine was to serve my country.

“This world has lost a brilliant leader,” I mutter. “Who’s in charge now?”

“Mallory. The new secretary is Moneypenny.” Eve winks. “You might recognize her.”

She pivots and walks down the hall towards Mallory’s office.

Q sighs. “M was a remarkable woman. I’ll miss her.”

“Let’s hope Mallory is half-decent. Let’s go meet this new secretary.”

We follow where Eve disappeared to. Q opens the door and pushes me in, where we both find- Eve? 

The lady behind the desk smiles. “Hello, 0011.”

“You got promoted? Congratulations! We have got to celebrate after work.”

Q is just as surprised as me. “Goodness, wow. Not that it’s a hard choice, you’re clearly well over-qualified. Congrats!”

“I say we go out to the K Bar. I hear their wine list is divine!” Eve Moneypenny suggests.

“What do you think, Quartermaster?” I look up to flash Q a wide grin. “Am I allowed to drink during my recovery?”

The lanky geek smiles, leans down and whispers: “We’ll keep it off the records, eh?”

Tonight’s going to be spectacular!

Since my apartment’s been compromised, I’m not allowed to live there anymore. Which means all my belongings have been moved to the spare closet in the basement.

“Sorry about this, Q. I promise I’ll find a place and be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

The computer geek has been incredibly helpful with helping me move. At first I thought he’d be annoyed at me invading his space, but he’s been more supportive than I'd expect. Yet he still can't help but complain about how many clothes I have.

“You’d better! This closet looks like a stuffed tick that’s about to pop. What’s in this tote anyway? Cinder blocks?”

I look away to avoid his gaze. “It’s shoes, actually.”

“Shoes?”

“What? I never know what shoe I might need! Pumps, kitten heels, boots, sneakers-”

Q sets the tote down and gives an exasperated grunt. “I get it, I get it!”

I wheel myself closer and give him a pat on the shoulder. “Thank you. Now would you help me pick out a dress for tonight?”

He looks down at me with a new smirk. “You look stunning in everything, Mrs. White.”

“Well thank you, Mr. White.” I arch an eyebrow. “I’m looking forward to seeing you gussied up as well.”

Q looks over my collection of dresses, all the while looking very serious as if deciding on buying a house. After a few moments he holds up one of my favorite blue evening dresses.

“I like this one.”

“Then we each have good taste,” I smirk as I’m handed the dress. “I think we’ve all earned a celebration after all this chaos.”

The hours tick by and soon enough it’s already quitting time. Eve helps me into the gorgeous dress and supplies me with some makeup. She herself is wearing a simple black dress.

“Very classy, Moneypenny.”

“Thank you! I’m-” She looks around to see if we’re alone, then whispers: “I’m going out on a date after our dinner!”

I gasp. “A promotion, and a date? You lucky girl!”

She giggles and begins pushing me to the exit. “I know! I’m so excited! Just try to keep it low-profile, alright?”

I mock-zip my lips shut. “Your secret’s safe with me. Now let’s get the K Bar so I can finally have a drink.”

“You’re starting to sound like Bond,” Moneypenny teases.

“I'll take that as a compliment. Although I do wish to keep my dignity intact.”

We take Moneypenny’s car to the bar and discover Q already has a table for us. He’s chosen a basic dress shirt and slacks, yet to me he’s the most handsome man here. Wait. What?

“Good evening, ladies.” The computer geek raises a mug of (no surprise) Earl Gray tea. “I took the liberty of ordering you some drinks of your own.”

On que, the waiter shows up with a tray of martini glasses. I see Moneypenny has a simple red wine and mine is-

"You ordered me a plain lemonade?" I ask, bewildered.

"Strawberry lemonade, actually," Q informs. "You said you're not a fan of alcohol."

How can this man be so thoughtful and annoying? 

I pick up the colorful drink with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Q."

We each take our glasses and raise them to a toast.

“To M, the strongest and most fearless leader the MI6 has ever seen,” I announce in a rousing tone. “And to Eve, or should I say Moneypenny, who will without a doubt shine as our new secretary!”

No matter if Bond gets back or not, I know we’ll keep an eye on things.

[themculibrary]

Smut - Shower Sex Masterlist

En Suite (ao3) - valtyr steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: Written for Avengers Kink. Prompt: "Tony/Steve. Shower sex."

I hate you, I love you (ao3) - Andrea1717 steve/bucky E, 13k

Summary: Bucky Barnes hates Steve Rogers. Weirdly he also can't keep his hands off of him.

An enemies to lovers college AU.

In Twin Rivers (ao3) - RurouniHime steve/tony E, 3k

Summary: In Twin Rivers, Tony springs for a hotel room.

In your hands (ao3) - jeza_red thor/steve M, 2k

Summary: “Thor, I…” Again he was not allowed to finish the thought. And it was strangely okay with him; Thor was so much more experienced, much more qualified to make judgements here. If he decided that now it’s okay to move, Steve was all behind that decision.

Let Me Take You Higher (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: “Good,” Steve said, and squeezed him gently around the waist. “I guess we should see about having an actual shower, huh?”

“It might be a good idea,” Tony allowed, smiling a little. It felt loose and warm and wide on his face.

Like a Daylight Savings Clock (ao3) - orphan_account steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: Would it bother Steve’s sensibilities to know that Tony was getting off on the idea of just being a thing for Steve’s pleasure, for his use?

My Arms Were Made To Hold You (ao3) - portraitofemmy, rainbow_marbles steve/bucky E, 55k

Summary: Tired of being kept awake at night by a screaming baby, Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands. Mostly he wants a good night's sleep, but what he gets is a beautiful baby boy with big blue eyes, a lonely father trying to move on from tragedy, and a chance at a family he never expected to have.

Out of Practice (ao3) - sassyseme sam/bucky E, 7k

Summary: Bucky claims he's out of practice, but his bed skills prove otherwise. He promises to do better, but Sam is already satisfied and eager for more each time. How much better can great sex get?

Rage Unleashed (ao3) - KurosakiIchigoat kate/yelena E, 86k

Summary: Following the fall out of being bonded with the symbiotes can Kate and Yelena move forward and heal or will other threats force them to reconcile with what has happened to them, and what they both want?

Shower Fun (ao3) - AkikoFumi steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: Anonymous sent: "NSFW prompt: Steve and Tony having shower sex for the first time. Please."

Shower to Save Water… Maybe Not (ao3) - Hades_LastSon21 wanda/natasha E, 1k

Summary: Day 24: Shower

Wanda get distracted while training

Slippery When Wet (ao3) - Jo (jmathieson) clint/phil E, 2k

Summary: Clint and Phil take a shower after a rough mission.

Steam (ao3) - LittleGooseWalking clint/natasha E, 775

Summary: *Follows after Clint's Nest in this series.*

A steamy shower encounter followed by an unexpected surprise.

Steam (ao3) - ladydeathfaerie clint/steve E, 4k

Summary: Long simmering emotions finally come to a boil one night after a training session, when Clint and Steve are alone in the mansion.

Steamy (ao3) - randomfatkid clint/phil M, 496

Summary: Clint wakes to find the bed empty and the shower running.

Substitute (ao3) - helens78 rhodey/tony E, 784

Summary: It's been four days with no booze and no sleep; Tony needs a substitute for the bottle, and Rhodey's willing to keep him company.

The Shape of Want (ao3) - praxidikai gilgamesh/thena M, 4k

Summary: The Eternals meet King Arthur, he grows fond of Thena, she isn't amused.

Under Her Thumb (ao3) - neon_jellyfish bruce/clint/natasha E, 3k

Summary: Dom!Natasha unwinds with her sub!boyfriends Clint and Bruce after a stressful week for the Avengers

We Don't Need Words (ao3) - abbyleaf101 clint/phil E, 525

Summary: The different ways they have sex says a lot about who they are.

what you see ain’t what you get (you ain’t seen nothing yet) (ao3) - six_demon_bag bucky/john E, 5k

Summary: John and Joaquin are sent undercover to investigate Alexander Pierce for illegal weapons trafficking from his company SHIELD Securities. Bucky and Sam are less than pleased at one of the things they do to avoid detection.

[your-dose-of-obidala]

Headcanons? Hmm… I don’t know if these qualify as weird, but my biggest one is probably that Obi-Wan is a virgin. I also tend to think he’s demisexual (I know him being ace is canon, demi is just the part of the ace umbrella I tend to put him under). And he’s touch-starved, our boy. So. Very. Touch-starved.

For Padme, I’m stuck between two: the first being that she faked her death and has been deep underground, secretly building the resistance all these years, or the second, that, unbeknownst to him, one of Vader’s attempts to bring Padme back actually worked and now she’s on a collision course to meet Obi-Wan, who will be very grateful he decided to start showering again.

This is not weird at all. At least to me. I headcanon Obi as a virgin, too. I never quite got the fandom perspection that Obi-Wan is the smoothest Mofo around, lol.

I kinda see him like the 40 yo virgin tbh. I know it's not a popular opinion, but ah who cares?

I just recently thought a lot about Obi being asexual, because I re-warched Sherlock and ut kind of got stuck in my head. Obi being demisexual really fits. I cannot imagine hin going around picking up ONS.

And you are 100% right on him being touch starved. That man needs a hug. I bet even that is not enough. I think he needs one of those hug machines to get all the deep pressure and anxiety reduction he needs:

Your Padme ideas made me go !!!!

The first one is pretty common. And I really like that one as an alternative to the usual Padme Lives AUs but the second one?????

BAZINGA

How can I sleep at night knowibg this idea exists? I keep thinking about a Padme clone with all her memories gettibg gaslighted and manipulated into being Vader's empress and then through some unfortunate event getting rescued by Obi-Wan.

You know, this is one of those ideas that makes my head go BRRR. I like it.

Thanks for sharing. I will think a lot about that second one tonight...

[insanitybl00m]

prepare to have an absolute overload of info about Bloom. I tend to stay kinda in the shadows and lurk but fuck it I’m gonna share som things about me :3

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Lullah, Chayanne, Missa and Phil

lighter or matches? Both. Depends on the situations. Am I being dramatic? Am I trying to take a cool ass photo?

do you leave the window open at night? Fuck no. It’s hot as hell and so so so humid.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? Uh none but I would fucking love to research more of them :3

what color are your eyes? Brown. I always draw my sona with blue eyes though because I find them so pretty.

why did you do that? Bro you are going to have to be more specific I do a lot of things.

hair-ties or scrunchies? Hair ties, but my hair is short soooo I don’t use them unless I need a haircut lmao

how many water bottles are in your room right now? Uhh two? Three? Idk I’m not home rn but on average two

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? Depends, my favorite coffee drink is more chocolate than coffee and I like it cold. If I get an actual coffee coffee though I typically get a hot coffee

would you slaughter the rich? Fuck yeah. Where are we meeting?

favorite extracurricular activity? Sleeping. (Writing, reading or drawing, depends on my mood)

what kind of day is it? DUDE IVE HAD A HELL OF A DAY /POS. I COULD MAKE A WHOLE SEPARATE POST ABOUT IT

when was the last time you ate? Uhh 3 and a half hours ago???

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? I have a shit sense of smell but I love the energy. When the ground is squishy but she sky is bright :3

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) To my characters yes :3

can you drive? Technically yes.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? Nope!

what hair products do you use? Uh this one curl styling product and then normal shampoo and conditioner

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? FUCK YEAH!! I HAVE A WHOLE BOX OF NAIL POLISH

do you say soda or pop? Soda but fun fact I hate soda. I hate any carbonated drinks so yeah no soda for me.

something you’ve kept since childhood? This one stuffed bear I’ve had since I was an infant

what type of person are you? No fucking clue. I’d say annoying, my friends would say and I quote “gay sopping wet cat. cool, silly, kind, clingy, really comfy to be around, super chill.”

how do you feel about chilly weather? I love wearing a nice jacket and pants. I wish it was colder where I live.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Star gazing but then getting distracted by rambling about our thoughts

perfume/body spray or lotion? Body spray but I own none that I like so I just use lotion

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? God. Every single time I fuck up a friendship I always replay what I could have done to fix it. Even if it wasn’t my fault.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? Uhhh…5

do you wear a mask? I used to a lot when I hated the way my face looked. I’ve grown more comfortable with it though so now I only wear them if I need too :3

how do you like your shower water? Hot. If I am not burning myself in the shower it is not hot enough. (According to science this means I am touch deprived— huh funny how that works)

is there dishes in your room? Uh if you count my empty water bottles then yes

what type of music keeps you grounded? Indie probably. Cavetown and Muffin by BBH actually probably the most

do you have a favorite towel? Not really

the last adventure you’ve been on? IM CURRENTLY TRAVELING IN EUROPE FOR THE FIRST TIME HOLY SHIT EVERYTHING IS SO DIFFERENT HERE

is there a song you know every word to by heart? Hamilton. All of act one. 90% of my playlist has songs I’ve memorized but I’ll just go with that one

what’s your timezone? This was the one I was hesitant to answer but I’m not exactly doxxing myself lmao sooo EST

how many times have you changed your url? Once. I had no followers on my other url though

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? Uh no. The longest friend I’ve had is a 3 (nearly 4) year friendship with my bestie (atlas :3

I can’t do it in a big numbered list because of character limit so it’s in another block list but it’s the same order.

a soap bar that smells good? Anything with lavender :3

do you use lip balm? No but I should

did you have any snacks today? Yep! I had a cinnamon roll

how do you take your coffee? With a shit ton sugar

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? YouTube and Files (I download ao3 fics to my files app so I can read when I don’t have wifi)

what’s your take on spicy foods? If only I could handle them ;m;

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? Can I kill a politician? Or my middle school bully?? Either way one of those two

can you remember what happened yesterday? I was on a plane and I slept. So kinda?

favorite holiday film? I don’t really have one I just like watching whatever my family likes :3

what was the last message you sent? I’m calling out atlas here. Atlas said that Langa (from sk8) “looks like the most stereotypical lesbian from Canada” and I responded “he issss”

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? Uh never and I don’t plan to in the future. Alcohol doesn’t mix well with my meds and people with adhd have a higher rate of addiction so I’m gonna avoid that

can you skip rocks? Maybe? I haven’t tried in a long time.

can i tag you in random stuff? YES PLEASE

TAGGING: @atlasmothsilove (aka Bestie I frequently mention) @31nightshade @universallytravelerpirate @annimator

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

I can’t understand why my brain is the way that it is. Why can’t I just—I don’t know, be fucking stupid and happy and extroverted? It’s not even that the fear has paralyzed me, it’s more like dread. Literally everything that I could possibly do, I dread now. Eating used to be my favorite fucking thing and even when I was mad at my body and trying to restrict I still enjoyed good food. Now? I could be satisfied to never eat food again. I just don’t fucking care anymore, being hungry just isn’t enough for me to want anything. I have to get high to even want food, and then I can’t really taste it that well because I’m high. I’m trying to not become dependent on weed though so I’m just not eating until I start shaking or feeling faint. And that’s only because me being sick is an inconvenience on everyone else. If it was up to me I would just stop eating and let my body give up.

So many of the things that I thought could “fix” me seem so mundane now, too. Women aren’t attracted to me, men are attracted to me sometimes but I’m not attracted to them. And I’m so fucking shallow too, I don’t deserve a partner. And the shitty friends I have, I guess they are exactly what I do deserve. It’s just so exhausting to do everything. Every. Thing. Getting out of bed is exhausting, trying to sleep is exhausting. Laying in bed awake with my thoughts is exhausting. Taking my meds is a chore. Chores are chores. I’m not qualified for a decent job and I know if I go into customer service I’ll kill myself faster. I want to be a professional cleaner, even though that’s a dead end job with shitty pay and my parents would be just as disappointed in me as they are now. Cooking is definitely a chore, and every time I sit at the dinner table with my family now I just feel like I could have a panic attack. None of us really care about each other anymore, or maybe they care for each other, just not for me, and I don’t care for them. Showers are a chore now too, not just getting in the shower but the shower itself. The nice smelling soap makes me nauseated. Shampooing my hair hurts. Combing my hair is torture.

Everything is so fucking exhausting. If I could actually fall asleep, I would feel like I could sleep forever. I can’t sleep though. Not more than about 5 hours, waking up several times in that span. When I have energy it either comes in the form of manic cleaning, anger at the world, or frustration that manifests in the intense fucking urge to claw my face off or pull out my hair or stab myself in the stomach and thighs wherever else and I want to draw with a red pen on myself but god I’m 21 and if I get caught it will look like I’m just fuckign screaming for some pathetic attention.

My limbs literally feel like lead. My eyelids feel like lead. There’s a weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe and there’s a feeling of apathy that makes me not care that I can’t fucking breathe. I do not care anymore if I live or die and I’ve never meant that as much as I do now. There’s just no reason for me to stay. I’m nothing. I’m less than nothing. There’s not a damn thing that I’m good for and I’m never going to grow up and this world is not designed for people like me. I can’t bother to feel anything for my family. My brother is a psychopath racist and misogynist. My dad… all of the above? He must feel emasculated whenever he’s not bullying my mom, for starters. The racism and sexism and homophobia and transphobia, those are secondary to the fact that he’s just an arrogant fucking prick. My mom is a manic narcissist and a chronic over-spender, and she refuses to communicate with my dad just as much as he refuses to be receptive. Mimi is an alcoholic and stubborn as hell. Marcus… is where do I even fucking start? He’s a bully and a pervert and losing his goddamn mind is the best thing to ever happen to him. Poppy is just going and going, and I’ll miss what he used to be but there’s nothing to be done about it. Grammy is manipulative and I don’t think I could ever be a good grandkid for her. She’s got plenty of others to worry about anyway. There’s no reason to want to please them, and I know for a fact that I am not pleasing them. I don’t want to be a burden on them but at this point I truly don’t care if they like me or not.

Tomorrow is wisdom teeth removal. Maybe I will feel better? And then I’m going to be miserable for a little while. Okay, whatever. My body is tired. Just plain fucking tired and I can’t do anything right. Not anything. And I have to say for the record that I fucking hate Julia. She’s such a pick me, such a sensitive woman’s woman and a fucking moron. There’s a reason she’s dating my brother and it’s because her personality is just as sour as his. Stupid fuckin Republican bitch, who by the way wanted me to fucking drink myself to death at Epcot I guess.

I guess I need to eat something so that I’m not hungry in the morning. I’ll go do that in a few minutes. I wish I could reality shift and lucid dream. Maybe I could find something that’s bearable on the other side of the multiverse, or maybe that’s what I’m already doing and I’m just as miserable in every other dimension.

The obvious fact is there too that I can’t ignore anymore. The fanfiction… I could never be good enough for any of them. None of them. I’m so fucking completely worthless they would never want me. Joel would shoot me. Javi wouldn’t give me the time of day. Layla would leave and Marc would be disgusted by me and, once he got over the bliss of just receiving attention, Steven would be bored of me. Din would hate me I think. Actively. And all of that is fair because I’m not a good person. I can’t pretend that they would like me or that I deserve them.

I don’t know where the passion would even be if I could look for it. It’s completely out of sight. School is over. Family is distant. Jobs seem out of reach and friendship and romance are pitifully unattainable. There’s nothing I could even try to care about anymore. I’m going to stop taking my meds and maybe I’ll turn into a human being again or maybe I’ll finally have the clarity of mind to just get out of everyone’s hair. I’m so fucking tired. I’m so tired and I can’t fucking sleep.

I wish I could just sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

[cosmicladyy]

low tide

dating wesley wizard

your first date was literally just a fishing trip

but you actually had a great time, wesley would tell you interesting facts about each fish he’d catch and what lure was best to use

you caught a big ass fish on your first throw and couldn’t stop bragging

he thought it was cute

(howell was horrifed when he found out and made him take you to this rlly fancy restaurant he had reservations for) “ON WHAT PLANET DOES FISHING QUALIFY AS A DATE???”

on the off chance you don’t go fishing with him, he’d send you pics of some of the fish he’d catch

‘took 4evr, but i finally caught him’

‘he kinda looks like u :)’

hc that he likes to bring home pretty shells he finds on the beach for you

you have a shelf dedicated to all the gifts he brings you

when ya’ll finally move in, he brings all his fish buddies with him

congrats! you now have your very own aquarium !!

love the man to bits, but i feel that bc he spends so much time in the ocean, he’s used to the smell and doesn’t realize a majority of his clothes stinks

which is bad news for you bc he likes to be held after a long day of fishing and you don’t wanna be near a smelly fish man

“Wes, I’ll hold you after you shower.”

“so you’re saying you don’t love me anymore?”

“WESLEY GO TAKE A SHOWER.”

when ya’ll first started dating, he was a little hesitant on officially introducing you to his sibs

he knows his family does it to protect him, but they can be a bit much at times

but after much convincing, you both arranged a small dinner to get to know them

you kinda already knew Crispin, considering he’s the only mechanic on the island

it started off with you getting back to back ‘interviews’ from each sibling but at the end they all came to the realization that you’re actually pretty cool

he thought that was goods news, but it backfired tremendously

prepare to never have any alone time 

bc you’ll always have a wizard sibling glomming onto you

you don’t mind, but wesley gets tired of it quick

“I wanted them to help me with this new recipe I found.”

“Yea right, they clearly want to check out this new computer game I found.”

“Dream on! They obviously want to sculpt with me, let’s get outta here (y/n)!”

*cue tug of war*

he’s not really into pda

instead of holding hands, he likes to link pinkies

when ya’ll are alone however..

you like when he kisses your cheeks bc his stubble tickles in a good way

before he heads off for the day, he waits for you to brush his bangs to the side and give him a smooch on his forehead

he refuses to leave without one

he’s actually really clingy behind closed doors

you absolutely love it, but it definitely has it moments

“this is really nice, but i need to use the bathroom.”

*grunt*

“I’m like three seconds away from pissing my pants pls let go.”

“I have a bucket you can use.”

“THAT”S SO GROSS WESLEY LET GO.”

after his clothes have been thoroughly washed, you like to steal his sweaters

“Are any of the clothes dry yet?”

“no.”

“is that my favorite shirt?”

“...no.”

you buying him those dorky dad hats that read somethin’ like “women want me, fish fear me” as a joke but they become a major part of his wardrobe 

sometimes when wesley gets tired of talking, he’ll slowly go from one worded responses to low grunts

when you pick up on this, you just hold his hand and sit with him in silence

he appreciates it and squeezes your hand to let you know

he’s really glad he met you, it makes him feel like you’re the only person who really gets him

[nikachansstuff]

Back to this because I happened to see two posts with valid counter arguments and I want to elaborate on it.

- “Unrealistic in a fantasy with fae? That’s where you draw a line?” - Maybe I wasn’t clear in my take, but when I say unrealistic, I don’t mean our reality as a reader. I thought it was implied, but apparently it’s not so: is not realistic inside the world created by the author. If you’re writing about a blood bath taking place among a warrior race, where many died trying to reach victory, and you emphasize how difficult it is to win, how only maybe 12 reach the goal in half millennia, then it is unrealistic for 3 females to win with months of training.

- “They passed the qualifier! That means they qualify!” - I know, excellent point. But I still find that SJM dropped the ball in this plot. It doesn’t matter that they passed a qualifier in a controlled environment, in a clean training facility under the watchful eyes of two previous winners. Those females never once camped in their life, except maybe for Emerie. They never once faced this type of adversity, they only trained in a immaculate training ring with a hot shower and a hot meal after it. It doesn’t make sense for them to endure this type of environment for one week and still make it to the top of the freaking mountain.

- “They worked as a team, that’s why they won!” … okay, this sounds really like the power of friendship argument I saw it in my comments. Let’s agree to disagree on this one, then, because to me, it still not enough to win a supposed life sentence challenge in the wilderness. You have one guarded female that never hunted in her life, a priestess that was also guarded in temples and libraries her whole life and Emerie, who is the only one who actually knows her culture. It’s not a strong combination, in my view.

At this point, nobody is going to change their minds, right? I find this whole plot very week and not plausible. At all.

And I bet some editor did point that out to SJM, but she went with it anyway.

I’m sorry, I think this will be my most unpopular opinion on my blog. But I got to be honest. If I am being critical of ACOTAR, I would say that Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn wining the Blood Rite was unrealistic. There, I said it!

It was rare for anyone in the Blood Rite to make it to the monolith. Since he and his brothers had done it five centuries ago, Cassian could recall only a dozen or so who'd not only reached the mountain, but also survived the climb. After a week of fighting, of running, of having to find and make your own weapons and food, that climb was worse than every horror before it. It was the true test of will, of cour-age. To climb when you had nothing left; to climb when your body begged you to stop ... It was when the breaking usually occurred.

ACOFAS

And you want me to believe three females without any previous training, with only months of hard and intensive work, beat this race of warriors that has being training since children in the most unfortunate conditions?

Honestly… that’s something that does not make sense to me at all. I think SJM missed something here, because it’s really contradictory and ends up weighing down the whole accomplishment of being Carynthian. To me, it doesn’t read as plausible.

Okay, I’m done.

[lilyrizzy]

cw: mentions of the current McLaren fuckery, but minimal angst I promise! this is totally self-soothing so no promises on quality...

Daniel finds out about Max’s interview through a google alert.

Not the one he has for his own name, of course. His mum had made him switch that off over summer break, the third time she’d found him scrolling through Twitter instead of answering Isaac’s persistent questions.  

“When are we going to the beach, Uncle Daniel?”

“Can you help me make pancakes?”

“What colour car are you driving next year?”

I don’t know, he’d thought at the time but couldn’t say, I don’t fucking know.

But now he does.

Pink and blue, not as good as the black and yellow he wore last time, but it’s sure as fuck better than the orange he was forced to call ‘papaya.’ 

His mum must have mentioned it to Max too, maybe asked him to keep tabs on Daniel’s social media time like he’s 15 years old or something, because Max has eyed his phone like it was the enemy, like it was Zak Brown himself, for the last few weeks. Has tentatively asked Daniel, ‘what are you looking at?’ every time Max has caught him flicking.

And Max is about as subtle as a red flag on the best of days, but he’d really given himself up when he’d suggested, ‘a hike would be very fun if we also leave our phones in the car,’ halfway through their trip to Perth. Like Daniel didn’t have to drag his ass out of bed, all but kicking and screaming, every other off-season.

This break had been different though, Daniel the one reluctant to get out of bed and face the reality of a world in which his days racing were numbered. One where he’d eventually have to remove, ‘Formula 1 Driver,’ from all his social media bio’s, the first public acknowledgement of failure, the career equivalent of a relationship status changed on Facebook.

But it’s fine.

He has a seat, has millions of McLaren dollars trickling into his bank account, and the chance at a fresh start.

And apparently, a boyfriend that is no longer so media wary.

At Daniel’s request, the first three times he’d been asked some variation of, ‘are McLaren right to dump Ricciardo in the dust,’ he’d given as close an answer to no comment as he could without actually saying the words. Daniel knows, because he’d checked in bed on Saturday night, qualifying over and Max snoring soundly in the bed next to him.

On pole of course, no reason to lose sleep.

So clearly, between qualifying and winning, Max’s loyalty had grown teeth. Or maybe he’d just gotten sick of them asking a variation of the same three questions, but in the video there was no sign of that tell-tale frustration weighing down his shoulders that he usually got right before he threatened to headbutt somebody.

EXCLUSIVE! Verstappen: If McLaren wanted Ricciardo to perform, they should have “built a better car.”

The notification lights up his lock screen like all the other articles tagged with Max’s name do.

Daniel groans, even as he feels the tiny smile start tugging at the corner of his lips. It only grows as he watches the full video, the cocky smirk on Max’s face as he shrugs at the journalist’s shameless attempt to get a controversial soundbite: “Do you think Daniel regrets leaving Red Bull now?”

“McLaren will regret this decision when Daniel is, of course, getting podiums next year with Alpine,” is all the Max on Daniel’s screen says.

Daniel climbs out of their bed and walks to the bathroom door, the article on his phone still open and lighting the way.

“Max,” he says, unable to keep the hint of laughter out of his voice as he looks at the soft outline of his body through the foggy shower door, “what did you do?”

“Hmm?” Max hums, like he has no idea what Daniel is referring to. Maybe he doesn’t. Max so rarely notices when his version of simple honesty isn’t the same shade as everyone else’s, when it’s been coloured by his feelings.

“Verstappen insisted, Daniel is the best driver on the grid?” He reads the words, typed out soundbites for anyone to see, aloud as though they are a question.

“Oh,” is all Max says over the noise of running water, rinsing his hair, “that.”

Daniel laughs and it bounces off the steam-damp tiles. “Yeah,” he agrees, “that.”

“It is the truth,” is all Max says, then turns off the shower.

“Max,” Daniel half-groans, half-snorts, “you can’t really believe that.” Max doesn’t say anything, just reaches a hand through the open glass door, clenching and unclenching his fist in a grabbing motion until Daniel passes him a towel.

“You are the best driver,” Daniel tries again, because it’s true and because he’s looking for something. Right after Hungary, it was a fight but now it's something sweeter, better.

“No,” Max disagrees, scrubbing roughly at his hair with the towel, droplets of water sliding down his naked body that Daniel can’t help but follow with his eyes. “I have the best car. There is a difference.”

Of course Max gives it to him, something to cover the crack in his chest that these days means his heart is pumping out in the open air, vulnerable.

Daniel puts the phone down on the counter.

“Oh, is there?” He asks, a teasing lightness to his voice that he can manage now he allows himself to trust in that layer of protection. He crowds Max against the wall, covering the skin that has just begun to show goosebumps with his own body. Water soaks into the fabric of his sweatpants, turning them from light grey to dark.

“Yes,” Max agrees, looking up at Daniel where he is slumped down a little, towel hanging limp from one hand before he lets it drop to tangle his hands in Daniel’s hair. “If we had the same car, I would be fighting you for the win every week.”  

Daniel ducks his head to taste the clean water running down Max’s neck from his hair. He wishes it were saltier, misses the taste of Max’s sweat.

What he misses more though is the taste of champagne when it was envy-free because it covered his own body as well.

“So we are both the best,” he muses against Max’s shoulder, kissing a freckle there.

“Of course,” Max says like Daniel is asking him something stupid, like the time he’d wondered out loud if Max would want him as much if he packed it all in and retired.

Then, a little breathless where Daniel is sliding his hand along the inside of his thigh, “You can say, ‘fuck those cunts,’ from the podiums next year, yes?”

Daniel has to pull back then, to look at the grin splitting Max’s face, cheeky and adoring and match it with one of his own. Like this, with Max, it almost seems guaranteed. 

Success. Winning.

“You can also thank Zak Brown,” Max continues, “when you win the WDC. For all the support and belief, of course.”

And somehow, now, that also seems like a reality he could at least brush up against, if only he can stretch his fingers far enough. It’s easier to believe in his ability to climb out from the hole he’s dug, when he knows he’s got Max at the edge, dangling him a rope.

“You’re right,” he says, “fuck those cunts, Maxy,” then tugs him in for a bruising kiss so he can say the next words against his mouth.

“I’m gonna be winning again soon.”