#and their favorite square was removed

[sinvulkt]

I feel so sad after finding yet another of my very loved fics disappeared from ao3 (and no, it's not a 'got pulled back by editor' case.) 😭

Please, co-ao3 writers, hear me on this— my reader part beg of you: do not delate your fics, no matter how cringe or bad it seem in your eyes. It's still very very cherished by some people in this vast world.

If you don't want to have anything to do with it bcs you hate it- that's fine, put it in anonymous, or orphan it. The options are there. But don't deprive us of their presence 😭. Some niches are so small already- we need them!

I'm an ao3 writer as well. I know how cringe our own writing seem sometimes. But our eyes are not other people eyes- and making fics disappear like that, fic readers enjoyed and love, that future readers might enjoy as well... even if it's forever unfinished! (Most of my favorite fics are unfinished- I still don't regret reading them >.>) well it's very, very heartwrenching. 😭

So please hear that call. And if you reject your fic for one reason or another... just orphan it.

[be-it-so]

My favorite headcanon about gods and the mortals is that gods never understand how fragile humans are and don't understand how deep god's touches go through mortal's skin. (or simply don't care)

Athena will make Diomedes's grip on his spear stronger pushing his fingers tighter and almost breaking his bones. She fixes his position making his stance perfect, but human's body was never able to get into position this perfect so his muscles will be tearing and his bones will be cracking just to be instantly healed. When Athena removes her hands, his body will be covered in bruises.

Odysseus will always feel burning and at the same time freezing gaze on his back while Athena watches him across the battlefield. His ears will be filled with her breath and whisper, that will ring in his head long after she ended speaking. She will help him shot an arrow, and he will feel his joints moving in the way they were never supposed to move.

When Apollo turns all the spears and arrows away from the Hector he will still feel them digging into his flash. Apollo will raise him from the dust again and again, and Hector won't be able to stand without hearing god's voice in his ears and feeling god's burning touch on his shoulders. He closes his eyes and still sees the light.

Helen will stand tall to speak up to Paris, and Aphrodite will place her hands on Helen's shoulders to remind her of goddess's presence and this flaming grip will weight as heavy as ten years of war. Aphrodite will wash Helen's face so her skin will shine brighter and eyes will haunt every man in the room, and the only thing Helen feels is her skin freezing from the coldness of Aphrodite's hands.

And those touches won't end with battle or even with war. Every time Diomedes fights he will feel his body taking the exact position Athena once made him in, his limbs will come into shape they were never meant to be in, without deforming cause Athena already fixed them, once she already designed him according to her vision. Every time Odysseus lies his words will echo in his head just like Athena's words did before, every time he uses a bow, arrow in his hands will feel like a burning torch or like an ice, and his joints and tendons will sing in a perfect copy of the song Athena made them perform inside his body on the battlefield. Every time Helen will square her shoulders to feel herself more confident she will feel burning touch on her chin pushing it up and freezing breath in her hair. She will look at her husband and shadow of tight grip on her shoulders will become shadow of sharp nails digging into her skin, holding her in place.

Even dying at Achilles's hands and falling to the ground Hector would still hear an order in his head telling him to get up and fight, his own blood running down a neck will feel like Apollo's hands forcing him back to his feet.

No mortal ever forgets a god's touch.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Snow Angel

Summary: Steve suggests a snowy drive through Hawkins that gets heated at his favorite overlook.

This is COMPLETELY self-indulgent, because for me, Christmas doesn't feel very festive this year. It's soft and sappy with two people very much in love. This is for anyone that needs to feel something a little extra for the season. ❤️ And since I couldn't get those pictures of that truck out of my head, enjoy some smut!

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: No use of Y/N. Pet names (angel, honey, etc). Fluff. Soft Smut. Slight fingering. P in V. Creampie.

WC: 4K

Snow fell softly, adding to the already six inches or so that blanketed the quiet little world of Hawkins. The forecast called for at least six more overnight, but you hadn't minded. With Christmas a few days away and nowhere to go, it was easy to busy yourself making dozens of fresh baked cookies for your friends and loved ones.

He finally swung open the front door in the early evening, with a shiver but his senses were delighted with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the air. Ever mindful, he quickly undid his boots and toed them off at the door, sitting them alongside yours and hanging his coat on the small rack.

A soft smile pulled at the edges of your lips when you hear him enter, taking the last batch from the oven before setting them on the cooling rack. He leaned against the door frame, with a low whistle, eyes roving over your frame.

“Have you been baking all day?” He asks with a grin, cheeks and nose tinted pink from the bitter cold, the soft knit beanie you had gifted him a few weeks ago sitting atop his head.

Turning to face him, you grace him with a beaming smile to match his own. The “kiss the cook” apron, dusted with flour hung haphazardly around your neck made a breathy chuckle escape him as he took a few more steps toward you, holding out a bouquet of red and white roses.

“What's all this for?” Removing the oven mitts so you could take them from him, lifting the flowers to your nose, inhaling the fragrant blooms.

“Just saw them and thought of you.” He shrugs, moving closer, until his hand reaches out to rest on your hip, pulling you into him.

You quickly maneuvered the flowers to the counter to wrap your arms around his neck. He was warm despite the frigid temperatures he had just come from.

“Steve, they're beautiful.” You comment, knowing that he hadn't just seen them. They weren't just supermarket flowers, venturing you to guess he had gone to the square to stop at the flower shop on the way home in this dreadful weather.

“Beautiful flowers, for my beautiful girl.” He smiles, wrapping his other arm around your waist and leaning in, until his nose nudges yours. You wrinkle at the chill, as your lashes flutter across your cheeks before his lips find yours in a soft, tender kiss.

He tasted of peppermints, the same ones he stuffed in his pockets every morning before heading into work, wrappers pushed back into those pockets that you had been emptying every time you washed his jeans.

You hummed, fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled away, leaning his forehead to yours. Slowly you open your eyes to see his golden brown, mossy infused orbs staring back at you.

“Got any plans, gorgeous?” He asks, fingertips running up the length of your spine and back down.

You giggled at the question as you answered, “Just spending the evening with you. Why?”

“How about…” He smiled, gently swaying you to some invisible song he alone seemed to hear. “You and I take a little drive. We can look at Christmas lights, and you can sit really close.” His voice dropping seductively at the last part.

Ever since Steve had brought home that shiny new truck, he had insisted you sit right next to him on the bench seat, making sure you were pressed into his side. His hand would either be on your thigh or slung over your shoulders at all times.

You were hesitant to say yes, eyes drifting to the window, worried the two of you might get stuck out in the cold if the snow continued to come down at its current rate. As if he could sense your trepidation, he cradled your jaw, thumb running soothingly along your cheek pulling your focus back to him.

“I'll make sure it's warm and toasty for you. Want to make some hot chocolate to take with us?” Eyes wide with a mix of reassurance and excitement, awaiting your response.

And how could you say no to that puppy dog look? The pouty lips and pleading gaze did you in each and every time.

Sighing softly, you nod, and he grinned immediately, kissing your forehead and reluctantly pulling back from your warm embrace to fish his keys from the front of his jeans and make his way back to the front door.

As he got dressed, you began making the hot chocolate, opting for instant because you knew Steve would be eager to head out. You left the water to boil, hanging the apron up and padding down the hall to your shared room to change into warmer clothing.

Flannel pajamas were exchanged for wool socks, jeans and a sweater, red to match his. You momentarily stop in front of the mirror to wipe a smidge of flour from your cheek and swipe on some lip gloss before returning to the kitchen just in time for the kettle to whistle.

He returns a few minutes later, waiting by the door, cupping his hands against his mouth to warm them up as you emerge to greet him with a thermos full of hot cocoa for your little adventure.

“Here, my little snow angel.” He says softly, setting the thermos down on the small table in the foyer to grab your coat, helping you into it, then taking your matching beanie and pulling it over your head, ensuring it was snuggly in place.

“Ready?” He asks, with a warm smile that reaches his eyes, grabbing onto the thermos once more.

“Ready!” Parroting with as much enthusiasm, as he opens the front door to the awaiting winter wonderland.

The snow was still falling, large powdery flakes landing all around the two of you as winter's cold embrace fought against your warm attire. The blue and white Chevy Silverado sat idling in the driveway, a warm safe haven ready to welcome you in.

He jogged ahead to get the door for you, waiting until you slid into the seat handing you the thermos before shutting it, briefly illuminated by the headlights as he crossed the front to hop into the driver's seat.

“Shit.” He breathes out, slamming the door against the frigid cold, watching a few flakes melt into the fabric of his jacket. “Warm me up, angel.”

He sweeps his arm around you, tugging you over and gently tucking you into his side, not a space between the two of you to be had. A giggle escapes you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, icy nose brushing against the underside of your jaw before his warm breath follows.

A few moments pass, before he sighs, placing a kiss where his lips rest against your exposed skin as he reluctantly pulls himself away. Utterly and hopelessly head over heels for the boy in front of you, hoping he can see it conveyed on your face when you lean in, pressing a soft but brief kiss to his lips. A dopey, lovesick grin graces his features when you break away.

“I love you.” He hums, squeezing your waist.

“I love you too, baby, but we can't see these Christmas lights if we sit in the driveway all night.”

He sighs again, knowing you're right. This was his idea after all but being this close to you always makes him feel dizzy. He pulls his arm away from you to put the truck in reverse and slowly eases out of the drive. As soon as he's on the main road, his hand is firmly planted on your thigh.

He throws the windshield wipers on high, fighting against the onslaught of pelting flakes melting on contact. The streets are empty, peaceful even, as the headlights shine a path ahead cutting through the snowy landscape. He takes it slow, rightfully so, as the plow trucks have turned in for the foreseeable evening since no one else seems brave or dumb enough to be out in this weather.

You turn off of your street and head north toward Loch Nora, the wealthy neighborhood that Steve grew up in. It holds both special memories and times he would like to forget but they always knew how to decorate for Christmas.

It's a quiet journey for the most part, passing the hot cocoa back and forth, listening to the radio at a reasonable volume, letting soft rock or the occasional Christmas song fill the comfortable silence. It wasn't long before he turned off into the subdivision, twinkling string lights illuminated the sign as you entered.

Bright, sparkling bulbs of all colors could be seen up and down the sleepy street, as he eased to a crawl, allowing you both to bask in the soft glow and nostalgia. Seeing all the houses lit up paired with him by your side, made your heart leap with an immeasurable fondness.

He rolled to a stop in front of a home tucked away at the end of the cul-de-sac that he recognized all too well. White lights in abundance, clean and crisp, not a strand out of place. Much like the sterile environment he had grown up in. Mrs. Harrington would rather die than ever have the gaudy multicolored lights. Calling the neighbors absolute fools for the mismatched catastrophes.

Your heart aches at the way his eyes drift over the exterior, with a heavy sigh. Christmas was a touchy subject with Steve for a long time, though it was still his favorite holiday. He was never allowed to help decorate the tree, it was a showboat, much like anything else the elder Harrington's did.

The first Christmas with you had brought the magic back for him. A fresh, live tree was picked out and brought into your home, decorated with mismatched ornaments from your childhood, multicolored string lights and tinsel. He smiled and laughed the entire time until his cheeks ached. Now that you shared a home, he enjoyed it even more, spending every evening curled up with you on the couch the entire month, watching a different Christmas movie when you could.

You take his hand, intertwining your fingers, as you look back over to him, catching the way his small frown transforms back into the smile he carried before, bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss.

He eased back into a slow drive, leaving that house in the rear view, making an exit out of the neighborhood.

“I've got one more place to show you.” He states with a hint of softness to his voice. “It's not far from here.”

“I'll go wherever you take me. We've got plenty of hot chocolate.” Holding up the thermos for emphasis.

You ease back into a comfortable silence, your thumb rubbing soothingly across his hand where you still grasp it. The road gets a little more snowy and the trees more dense the further he goes. The path winds and travels up until he reaches a small clearing, parking it with practiced ease and shutting off the headlights.

Out beyond you lay the town of Hawkins. It looked like a snow globe, lit up from the streetlights and jolly decorations as the snow fell.

“How beautiful!” You gushed, leaning forward in the seat to gain a better look, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the dash.

“Beautiful.” He uttered, looking at you instead, placing his arm back around your shoulders as you melted back into his embrace, kissing your temple then leaning his head onto the top of yours, muttering “I love you” into your hat.

“I love you too, Steve.” You echo, pushing away from him slightly so you could see his face, taking in the way the moonlight partially illuminated his best features. The angular slope of his perfect nose, the soft lines of his pouty lips, and the curve of his sharp jaw all stood out. His eyes drop as you take your lip between your teeth, studying him as he studies you.

He untangles his hand from yours to find your cheek, his thumb grazing along your bottom lip when you release it, causing your breath to hitch and your heart rate to tick upward as if you hadn't kissed him a hundred times before. Steve always had this effect on you, and you hoped right then and there he always would.

You both lean forward, noses grazing as he tilts your head just right for your lips to meet, closing your eyes. It was sweet and tender, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as if you might pull away but you reach up, gripping the front of his jacket to pull him in.

His tongue parts your lips, as you softly moan, melting further into him. He takes the lead, deepening the kiss, as it becomes hungry and heated. That familiar spark of desire shoots through you. His fingers trailing lightly down your neck finding the zipper on your jacket, tugging it down smoothly until your sweater comes into view. His hand snakes down, finding the edge of the woolen fabric, running his palm across your soft stomach, causing you to shudder, before ultimately landing on your hip.

His free hand comes to cradle the back of your head, as he pulls away to kiss a path across your jaw, nipping at your earlobe and finding the little spot below your ear that makes you gasp. He grins against you, sucking a little harder at that spot, his tongue then licking across your skin in a soothing manner.

“Steve.” You say, in that breathless way that makes him moan against your heated skin. You tug at his beanie until it comes free, running your fingers through his already disheveled hair to hold him in place.

His cock is already painfully hard, tented and straining against his jeans, groaning when you palm at his erection, hips grinding upward, pushing himself further against your hand.

“Need you.” He whispers, voice needy and strained.

“Need you too.” Replying as he parts from you momentarily to remove his jacket, watching as you do the same, tossing them both with reckless abandon into the floorboard.

He immediately grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap, chests flush, legs straddling either side of his.

He nips at your top lip, then your bottom lip, pulling back with a sly smirk, leaving you a little breathless and wanting before you roll your hips into his as he gasps, gripping you a little tighter to hold you in place.

“Not fair, angel.” He whispers, a soft mumble against your lips before crashing them into yours. You move in tandem, a slow and steady build, tongues dancing and gliding together in a messy crescendo of need and desire.

The cab of the truck is hot, suddenly feeling cramped with far too many layers of clothing between you, breaking the kiss to come up for much needed air you quickly ease off his lap, much to his dismay.

His pout turns into another grin, when you toe your boots off and he sees you unbuttoning your jeans, he starts to do the same. His buckle clicks open loudly, his deft fingers popping the button before unzipping and pushing them down his hips, leaving him in his very festive red and green checkered boxers, as you discard your jeans and panties with the growing pile in the floor.

Turning his head back to you, he sucks in a sharp breath, easing his hand down to rub against himself.

“Eager, are we?” He teases, taking your hand to help you back into his lap, taking up the same position as before, only the thin fabric of his boxers separating you. He presses himself up against your already soaked folds, hands at your lower back as his hips grind up, eliciting moans from the both of you.

His touch becomes more possessive and frantic, easing under your sweater, dancing up your spine and along your ribs, teasing the underside of your bra as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He watches with hooded eyes as your back arches you further into his touch, breath becoming more erratic with each passing second. He roughly pulls your bra down, cupping your breast with his large palm, kissing back down your neck. Your hands grip the front of his sweater, throwing your head back as pleasure begins to course through your veins, when he pinches your nipple between his thumb and finger a moan, louder than the one before is ripped from your chest.

“That's it angel, love to hear those pretty sounds you make. S'just us out here, you can be as loud as you want.” He says in-between peppered kisses across your bared throat, easing his hand down between your splayed legs.

His fingers slide across your slick lips, teasing your entrance. The moment his thumb brushes across your swollen clit, your hips jolt, eliciting another high-pitched moan from you.

“Need your Steve!” You cry out.

“I'm right here, honey. Right here.” He curls his arm tighter around your waist, inserting a finger.

“No!” You breathe out, as he stills his movements.

“No?” He asks, looking up at you with furrowed brows.

“Need your cock.” Pushing at his boxers, with a whine. He chuckles, removing his hand from you to grab your wrists but who was he to deny you? Not when you were perched on his lap looking like a literal ethereal being.

“Okay, angel.” He kisses your forehead. “Ease up for me.”

You do so, allowing him to push his boxers down his hips, his girthy cock standing at attention.

“Ready, angel?” He asks, taking in a ragged breath of his own, before you nod.

“Good girl.” He coos, lining himself up at your entrance. “Just take your time. No rush.” His hand eases up your thigh.

You start to sink down, jaw going slack, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes when his thick tip breaches, stretching you open in the best possible way.

“Relax, relax.” You hear him say, hands gripping his shoulders, releasing a deep breath, taking him a bit further into your tight heat. “That's it.”

You continue to ease down his length, with gentle praises mumbled breathlessly against your skin, until you're fully seated on his lap.

“That's my good girl, taking me so well.” He hums, wrapping his arms around you, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Ahhhhh! Steve!”

“I know, I know. You feel so good, angel.” Coming out slightly muffled, letting you go at your own pace, though it's killing him, cock twitching inside you as he groans.

Your pussy flutters around him, finally taking it as a cue to move, lifting your hips at an agonizingly slow pace, feeling every inch of him dragging against your inner walls, pausing before dropping back down.

“Oh, fuuuck.” He moans out, gripping your hips, as you start to set a more pleasurable pace, adding rolls with your movements, catching that wave of pleasure each time that thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubs deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The outside world fades away between frosted glass and panting breaths. It's just you and Steve inside the cab of his truck, safe and warm wrapped in each other's arms, connected in the most intimate way. Your bodies slot perfectly together, melding and molding, crashing into each other again and again in perfect rhythm.

Your tempo falters the closer you get to the edge of release, but he's there to catch you. He's always there. Your thighs begin to shake as broad hands start to aid in moving you up and down his length.

His lips part, watching as he disappears into your tight heat over and over, on the cusp of coming undone himself but holding back to see you fall apart for him.

Heated skin finds the frosted glass behind his head, shuddering as the cool pane meets your palm, leaving a perfect print before your continued movements drag it in indecipherable patterns, but a pattern that anyone outside would recognize.

“Gonna come for me angel?” He asks between labored breaths, feeling you tighten slightly around his shaft.

You quickly nod, too far gone to find your voice in the throes of passion. His thumb finds your aching clit, moving against you with measured precision.

That familiar heat rises up through your core, behind your navel, pressure building and building. Your whines get more high pitched, hands grasping at his sweater, wringing it between your fingers to the point that your knuckles have turned white.

He watches, with bated breath, steady praises stream from his lips, falling on deaf ears, your brain no longer registering the words. He sounds so far away but he's right here, beside you, under you and inside you.

The tension finally reaches a fever pitch, like a cork exploding from insurmountable pressure, your orgasm crashes into you with a blinding force, knocking you senseless. You clench and tighten around him, legs finally giving out, ceasing their rhythm entirely as you come undone.

He grips you, bruisingly so, holding you in place as he takes over, thrusting up into you only a handful of times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside of your needy cunt, giving you all he has to offer. He holds you to him, grunting out as his cock twitches with the last of his sticky spend.

Your chests heave, back and forth, shared breaths in the space between you as your heart rates return to normal. No words were spoken, your bodies doing more than enough to convey the feelings you both have.

A lazy, dopey smile finds you when he finally lifts his head. Cheeks flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes sparkling with pure adoration as a soft “hi” escapes him.

“Hi baby.” You grin, with a breathy laugh. The absurdity of such a simple greeting after a complete out of body experience. Your lips find his, soft and slow, relishing in the afterglow for a few more moments.

He hums, pulling back, still breathless.

“We should head back.” He muses, eyes drifting out beyond the window, the snow still falling heavy around you.

You ease off of his softening cock, redressing in the quiet space, the radio playing lowly in the background. You take your place, pressed right in beside him as he eases back out onto the main road, snow already covering your tire tracks from before.

It was a slow ride home but neither of you seemed to mind, huddled together in the warm cab. Conversation flows, making the drive pass in the blink of an eye.

Once the truck was parked safely back in the driveway, he immediately hopped out, turning back to extend his hand to help you out, sliding his fingers between yours, guiding you both into the house.

Coats and boots were shed, outer gear exchanged for matching fleece pajamas. You emerge from the kitchen with an array of baked goods and made from scratch hot chocolate just in time for It's a Wonderful Life to start playing, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“C’mere, honey.” He scoots over, patting the space beside him, lifting the edge of the blanket for you to slide in. And you do, handing him a mug, taking your own and leaning back into his embrace. The perfect end to a perfect night.

He brings the mug to his lips for a long sip, leaving behind a faint chocolaty mustache across his top lip, making you softly giggle before he turns, licking it away, his gaze settling on you.

His dulcet, sincere smile makes your heart flutter against your ribcage. Here in the twinkling lights and glow of the TV, a picture of what the future might hold was clear.

Steve had similar thoughts swirling around and come Christmas morning he hoped you would say yes right there in front of the tree.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

141 + los vaqueros + könig with an s/o who is kind of naive and innocent being called dumb?? Just how they would react and comfort their s/o <33 thank you lovely!!!!

I love big strong men standing up for their sweet little s/o 😭

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

You gotta have some kinda death wish

I can’t imagine him getting violent off whip, his main concern would be removing you from the situation and providing comfort

However, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t memorized who that person is, their face, their voice, their tone, their words

And that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t track them down later and give them a piece of his mind

Before he does that, his concern is you, he’s got your favorite show playing and he’s telling you it’s not worth thinking about what they said, he wishes he can take his own advice but when you’re curled up against his chest sniffling with a quivering lip, he’s imagining how satisfying it would be to run his fist through their face

Once you’ve fallen asleep, he’s tracking them down and when he finds them, in seconds he’s gripping the front of their shirt, lifting them slightly, their back bruising against the wall he’s pushing them against

“If I ever hear your voice again, I’ll crush your fuckin’ throat, am I clear?”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He loves your sweet, good natured spirit, it gives him such genuine joy

He’s the only one that can poke fun at you because he’s not being malicious about it, it comes from a place of love and endearment

So when he sees a recruit making fun of you for it, he kinda loses it a little bit

Just like Ghost, his main concern is removing you from that situation but at the same time he’s pissed

So he’s wedging himself between you two with a strong emphasis on the person bringing you down, his chest is all puffed up, shoulders square, and he’s got the angriest look in his eyes

“Care to repeat what you said?”

He might not be as scary or intimidating as Ghost but that doesn’t mean that his strength is just for show either

The recruit backs away almost immediately but doesn’t get very far before Johnny grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back

“The next time I catch you even looking at them, you’ll be so fucking sorry.” The poison in his words thickening his accent in his throat and the poor idiot was tripping over his feet trying to get away

In seconds, Johnny turned to face you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed his lips to your forehead

“C’mon darlin, let’s get somethin’ sweet for my sweet somethin’.” He teased with a wink and a bump of his hips against yours

John Price:

He loves your innocence honestly, it’s so refreshing for him

Like the first drink of ice water after spending a day in the desert heat, it soothes him as much as it concerns him

He teases you about it both out of love and genuine concern, he’s not always around and it worries him how innocent and kind you are

And then while you’re all out getting drinks and wrapping up a hard day’s work, he sees you getting picked on, he sees your shoulders slump ever so slightly and he crossed the room in seconds

Honestly? He doesn’t even have to say anything, his body language, his demeanor, the vicious look in his eyes, all speak volumes to how bad this guy fucked up

He stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder and whispering loving words in your ear, you’re a little confused as you walk back to the group, looking over your shoulder, not thinking to look in front of you (luckily Johnny gets hold of you before you walk into someone)

You can’t hear what he’s saying but you get the sense it’s pretty bad considering the guy loses all color in his face and sweat starts to bead on his brow

You wave at John with a smile as he walks back to you, he gathers you in his arms and pulls you in for a kiss

An offer of home and comfort shortly followed

How could you possibly refuse?

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Oh honey he’s poking fun at you very often, but always out of love, he loves your naivety and will often use it to tease you

He loves seeing you get all worked up, cheeks puffed up and an embarrassed blush on your cheeks when he calls you out on it, it warms his heart as much as it makes him wanna give you big ol’ smooch

However

He’s the only one allowed to do it

So when he sees one of the cadets try to pull one over you the way he does, but in a much meaner fashion that has embarrassed tears welling in your eyes, he sees red

He’s at your side in a matter of seconds, chest pushing against the other guy as he backs him away from you, he’s so angry he doesn’t know what to say, barely manages to put a filter on his words

“Think you’re so fuckin’ funny do ya? Makin’ ‘em upset, who the fuck do ya think you are?”

John has to step in and get between the two men, knowing full well how it’ll end, he physically turns Kyle around to face you and gives him a shove in your direction

Kyle takes your hand and walks away, grumbling all the while about how he should’ve punched the fuckers lights out, but when you lean into his side as you’re walking along, the anger starts to simmer and fade

It won’t be long before he’s mumbling an apology to you for how he reacted, just give him a kiss and he’ll be back to his normal self

König:

I mean… you gotta be some kinda stupid to mess with his s/o in any capacity, like have you seen him???

He’s never far from you, always in your peripheral or at your side, touching you in some way, it’s soothing for him to be around you and he knows you feel the same

So when he hears someone snap at you and call you dumb, he bites his cheek so hard he tasted blood

Without hesitation he pulled you away and behind him as he stood up at full height, glaring daggers at the man through the holes of his hood

He doesn’t even have to say anything, the angry rise and fall of his chest, the cold fury in his eyes, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides are all indicators enough of his rage

The man couldn’t apologize and scramble away quick enough, tripping over a chair as he tried to make a hasty escape

König was frozen in place, so god damn angry that he couldn’t move, it took your small voice quietly calling his name for him to snap out of it, he turned to face you and gently took your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your knuckles

You smiled softly at him, even if he wasn’t looking directly at you, his eyes pinned to your hand in his, you gave it a gentle squeeze and he finally looked up at you

The adoration in your eyes enough to melt the fury and bring him back to himself, “Let’s go, schatz, you said you were hungry, yes?”

“A while ago, yeah.”

“Then let’s go remedy that.”

Alejandro Vargas:

Alejandro loves with his entire being, he’s so steadfast in his love that any slight against you, is a slight against him

“What the fuck did you say cabron?”

He’s up in arms almost immediately, hackles raised, nostrils flaring, fists clenched at his side and ready to swing

“Alejo, please, it’s fine.” He knew it wasn’t fine, he knew you wanted to put in a brave face but he didn’t miss the way your eyes watered or the way your jaw tensed when the insult was hurled at you

“No, amor, let him repeat himself. See if he’s man enough to say it again.”

He’s seeing red at this point, his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s ready to knock out the bastard

When he sees that the man is wide eyed, panicked, and stuttering out apologies, trying to gain some semblance of spine as he tries to make a hasty retreat, he backs off and moves closer to you

“Más le vale, cabron.” (Loose translation: that’s what I thought)

He’s got his arm around you and he’s walking you both away from scene,

“You didn’t have to do that, Ale.”

“What are you talking about, amor, of course I did. If you’re wounded, then so am I.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You teased with a small peck to his jaw, he chuckled and rested his head on yours as you both made your way home

Rodolfo Parra:

He’s too good for this world tbh he doesn’t give that idiot a second glance as he’s walking you away from him

He’s kissing your temple and shooting a glare over his shoulder, a promise of retribution in his eyes

“Don’t listen to them, mi vida.”

He’s nothing if not reassuring and comforting, he’s holding your hand and lovingly stroking it with his thumb

As he’s giving you a hug and kissing the top of your head, he’s thinking of all the ways he can wring the new recruit’s neck tomorrow

But that won’t stop him from spoiling you a little bit to cheer you up

Even if you’re insisting that you’re well over it and have moved past it, he’s just as insistent in getting your favorite food, watching your favorite movies

[vaspider]

If you have celiac or otherwise can't eat wheat, btw, and you like bread, I highly recommend investing in a breadmaker. Even the best store-bought gluten-free bread does not hold a candle to the stuff that comes out of our breadmaker, and it's cheaper per slice even when we buy bread mix in single-loaf bags.

This is our breadmaker. Evie got it on sale, but it is an investment. I'm not going to pretend it isn't a chunk of change up front. There are cheaper ones, but the reason I like this one and think it's worth the money:

It has two smaller paddles, where our older bread maker that my mom got us and got destroyed by getting construction dust in it had one big paddle in the middle. This leaves a big hole in the middle of the finished loaf, which makes the bread much less useful for, like, sandwiches.

Zojirushi is not as well-known a brand in the US, but it's a Brand Name in Japan for good reason. Evie's had our Zojirushi rice cooker for over a decade & we had to replace the inner bowl once bc someone used metal utensils in it and scratched the non-stick coating. We expect to use this machine for at least a decade.

You can program your own cycles, which we found really useful. Evie built a custom cycle that removed the punch-down sections (gluten-free bread tends not to rise as much) and that made our perfect loaf.

A lot of bread machines produce very tall, square loaves, which are awkward to slice, store, and make sandwiches with. This produces loaves that make good sandwiches and toast, and the French toast slices don't crowd the pan.

The top heating element on this gives a really amazingly browned top crust that we definitely didn't get on our old machine.

It's so pretty.

So how is it cheaper in the long run if the machine costs $300+? A little like this:

We use Pamela's Bread Mix bc it's really consistent and easy - you need the bread mix, water, yeast, 3 egg whites, and oil. (We use avocado oil and find it best and most consistent, but regular vegetable oil works!) We buy Pamela's in bulk, and without any subscription discounts or whatever, the $48 pack of 3 bags makes about 11.5 loaves. With the cost of yeast and eggs and stuff, it ends up costing about $4.50 a loaf. (If you buy your yeast in larger bags & store it in an airtight container, you can create less waste and it's also cheaper.)

By comparison, a loaf of Franz GF Bread costs $7-8, and Canyon Bakehouse usually runs about the same.

However, that's not an apples to apples comparison because the Franz loaf is an 18 oz. loaf, whereas our breadmaker makes a 2 lb. loaf. Assuming even the lower-end cost for getting a Franz loaf at the store, an equivalent amount of bread would cost $12.42, and it's not nearly as good.

(Yes, gluten-free bread is fucking expensive. That's part of why I'm writing this post in the first place.)

Anyway, assuming you eat 2 lbs. of bread a week in your house - a breadmaker loaf, basically, to make the math simple - you'll end up spending $7.92 less on bread every week. That means that even at the most expensive cost for the Zojirushi, if you buy it at its highest price (don't do that! wait for a sale!) it'll take 50 weeks - about a year - before the breadmaker pays for itself. If you manage to get it on a 25% off sale (which we did), it pays for itself in about 9 months.

Nine months, I must stress, in which you are eating much more delicious bread.

We tend to go through a couple of loaves a week because toast, sandwiches, and melts are great food for people with low spoons.

Evie and I perfected the Pamela's mix recipe for this particular machine - I'll get it typed up when I'm downstairs next, along with the quasi-babka recipe. (Really, it's like a marble cake and babka and bread had a baby, and it's a family favorite.)

Bread good. The end.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Missing Piece

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer is always leaving little gifts for you, mostly flowers that you use to brighten your apartment. There is always one flower missing, and you finally find out the reason why.

Square Filled: gift for @goodthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

This is one of those rare days when you wake up before your alarm. You had gone to bed early last night since Spencer went to bed early. He had a tough day at work, and since you don’t like to be up by yourself when someone is sleeping, you went to bed with him. Spencer is such a light sleeper that you’re afraid of making noise that will wake him. He barely gets enough sleep as it is.

You roll over in bed and bury your face in Spencer’s pillow. His side of the bed is cold since he left it to go to work a few hours ago. The blackout curtains do a really good job of keeping the light out so you don’t know if it’s barely sunrise or if the sun has been up for hours.

You get out of bed and peel the curtains back slowly to let in enough light for your eyes to adjust. You continue until the curtains are all the way open and the entire room is bright. Something Spencer loves doing is leaving little gifts for you like flowers or candy or your favorite coffee. This time, it’s a beautiful bouquet of flowers that’s sitting on the bedside table next to your phone. The bouquet consists of roses, sunflowers, and lilies that he most likely put together from the local flower shop down the street.

I hope these brighten your day. I love you so much - Spencer

You clutch the note in your hand with a smile and walk over to the closet. There is a box of every single letter Spencer has written you. You don’t throw anything out because you love keeping these little tokens of your relationship. The only thing you throw out that he has given you are the flowers.

You take the bouquet and walk to the kitchen to separate them into smaller bouquets that you can put all over the house. There are six spots where you put flowers to give the rooms a bit of color, so you remove the old ones and put the new ones in. However, there is always just one left over because Spencer never gives you a full bouquet. He always gives you eleven flowers instead of twelve.

You’re not sure why but you never ask him. You’re just grateful to get flowers.

You and Spencer always schedule lunch together unless he’s on an active case, and the B Team is in the field for this week. To pass the time, you get started on your morning chores. You want Spencer to come home to a clean house. He works hard so that you don’t have to. It’s not that you’re incapable of getting a job or unable to hold one down, you just love being a stay-at-home wife.

It gives you the opportunity to work on your art. You love sewing, embroidering, and knitting anything you can get your hands on. You have your own Etsy shop that you make things for, and a lot of people on Facebook Marketplace want to buy your items. By not having a normal nine-to-five job, it gives you plenty of time to work on your craft. You have a bunch of commissions to work on so after your morning chores, you get to work on one of them. Once you get in the zone, it’s easy to make two hours feel like ten minutes.

Around lunchtime, you set your work aside and get ready in something light and flowing. It’s a nice day outside and you don’t want to be stuck wearing jeans and a T-shirt. You take public transportation to work since Spencer took the car this morning, and you reach the BAU in thirty minutes. The receptionist knows you by heart so she checks you in with a visitor badge before you go to the elevator.

JJ and Derek pass by with files in their hands when you enter the bullpen, and they both smile at you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking Spencer to lunch. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he’s in Hotch’s office. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

They walk off and you approach his desk. Everything is neat and in order, not to your surprise. You sit down and twirl around before spotting a single rose on his desk. It’s the same color rose as the one that was in the bouquet he gave you this morning.

“Hey, I’m ready to go.”

“Is that the missing flower from my bouquet this morning? Which, I loved by the way. Thank you.”

“Yeah, I keep one on my desk so I know when it’s time to get you a new bouquet.” The feeling of love floods your body at the simple gesture. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m always ready,” you grin.

He kisses the top of your head and leads you out of the BAU. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for this man and clearly, he feels the same.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[annebd]

winter warmers, day 16: secret santa. ~1800 words <-holy shit.

There’s a little box on the corner of Daniel’s desk, wrapped neatly in green paper and topped with a gold bow. The tag is a small square card, no more than a couple inches across, with a short message on one side:

To: Daniel

From: Your Secret Santa

Daniel opens the box and unfolds the carefully wrapped tissue paper bundle inside to remove the expected Scrabble tile. Today is the letter H. He tucks it into the top drawer of his desk, along with the rest of the tiles. The bow is also gently removed and stuck up on the pinboard next to the other twenty-two bows that he’s gotten so far this month. Some are gold, some silver, a few red and green.

There’s one particularly sparkly bow that’s been shedding glitter on him and all of his possessions for the past week. Halfway through the marketing team meeting last Thursday, Max reached over and brushed his thumb across Daniel’s cheekbone.

“You are all shiny, Daniel,” he said and showed him the sparkles of golden glitter that he’d rubbed off. “Always you’re so handsome, but today you’re like a shining star, too.”

Daniel was pretty sure he’d turned bright red, not even the deep tan in the middle of an Australian summer able to hide the color rising in his cheeks.

“Oh, uh, thanks, mate,” he replied and then turned back to the meeting on the last marketing push for Christmas sales, while trying not to think about the feeling of Max’s hand against his skin.

Today’s bow isn’t quite as glittery, but it does glint prettily in the glow of Daniel’s desk lamp. It’s 8:52am on December 23rd. Early enough that he has time to sip his coffee without interruption for a few minutes as he waits for his computer to boot up and he has to hop into the workday.

He eyes the drawer that holds the Scrabble tiles and decides he’s got time. As he’s done so many times so far this month, he pulls them all out and scatters them across his desk. Twenty three tiles so far. One of them is a blank, but a little question mark has been drawn on in black sharpie.

The ? tile showed up on the 17th, and he assumed that that was the end of it, so he’d spent the entire day trying to unscramble the letters, but couldn’t get anywhere. When another N arrived the next day, he realized that it wasn’t quite over yet.

The first box had arrived on the first of December. He wasn’t expecting it. George, over in operations, had floated the idea of doing a Secret Santa exchange a few weeks prior, but there had been so much hemming and hawing, with no one really wanting to commit, that he’d given up and moved on. Daniel hadn’t given it any further thought until the first box showed up.

Like every day since, the little box was wrapped inexpertly, though neatly, with green paper, and had a red bow stuck right on top. The same note, from “your secret Santa,” was attached. The Scrabble tile that day had been a D. Daniel assumed it stood for Daniel and that someone was either playing a silly joke, or truly had the worst taste in gift giving.

That assumption was only further confirmed on the second, when another box arrived, containing an R, which he could only assume stood for Ricciardo.

Thoroughly confused, he stopped by George’s office to poke his head in the door and ask when the Secret Santa drawing had been and why he hadn’t been involved.

“There was no drawing, mate,” George told him. “You lot were all too cool for the idea, so I didn’t bother. Why d’you ask?”

“Huh,” Daniel said, flummoxed. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

He brought it up to Max when they had lunch that Friday. It was Daniel’s favorite part of the week- getting Max all to himself for an hour, to make ridiculous jokes and watch Max turn pink from laughter.

“Strange, isn’t it? Just a random couple of Scrabble tiles. What, am I supposed to use them to make a name tag for myself?”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” Max replied. “And they are, of course, just using the Secret Santa as an excuse to send you gifts.”

“They’re some weird gifts, then,” Daniel said, and took a bite of his pastrami on rye. It was good. Mustardy.

“They might get better. It could be fun.” Max looked over at Daniel, who was in the middle of another big bite of his sandwich. “You’ve got a little-” and pointed to the corner of Daniel’s mouth. He reached out, as though he intended to swipe away the crumb with his own finger, but he pulled back and let Daniel dab at his mouth with a napkin.

“Thanks, Max. And I guess you’re right. But I reserve the right to be annoyed if it’s just a bunch of letters spelling my name.

Day three put a wrench in the name theory when he popped open the box and found a V. So definitely not his name then.

Over the next couple of days, he received a W and a Y. On the following Monday, he showed up to two Ls and another E, each tucked into one of three boxes lined up carefully along the edge of his desk. He’d wondered what would happen over the weekend, and he was quietly pleased that his secret Santa had taken into account the extra days.

And today, as Daniel sits sipping his coffee with twenty two letters and a question mark, he decides that he’s got to be able to figure this out. Christmas is in just two days, which means that he’s only expecting two more gifts. And really, he’s only expecting one gift, since the office is closed on the 25th, and he’s not coming in for anything- even a secret Santa surprise.

Daniel mixes the tiles around, trying different combinations of words. The twenty three tiles at hand read NOIVUHHTLEMIWARELDYNIE?, which he’s pretty sure isn’t a thing. He can spell various words. He’s got the letters for DANIEL, but not RICCIARDO, so he’s mostly ruled out his initial name tag theory.

He’s been able to make a few phrases, some more promising than others. He had “HAVE YOU LET ME DIE?” laid out when Max stopped by his desk last week.

Max had raised an eyebrow at the phrase and given Daniel a disapproving look. “You don’t think that’s what your secret admirer is saying, do you?”

Daniel shrugged. “No clue, mate. Your guess is as good as mine right now.”

Max didn’t offer any actual help, but he scrambled the tiles again so that the question was no longer visible. “I don’t know either, but probably it isn’t about death.”

Daniel tries a few more letter combos, but nothing is jumping out at him. As the clock on his desktop ticks over to 9:00, he gathers up the tiles and places them back into his drawer.

When he heads out of the office that afternoon, he bumps into Max in the elevator. “You’re wrapping up early today!” he exclaims.

Max is always staying late at the office, and Daniel is forever trying to get him to leave on time, have a life outside of work. But Max insists that software engineering waits for no man, and he’d rather just get as much work done in the office as possible, instead of having to take it home with him and continue with it there.

“Hello, Daniel,” Max says. “Yes, today is an early night. I have some things to do today. Before Christmas, you know.”

“I’m glad,” Daniel replies. “See you tomorrow?”

Max gives him a big smile. “Yes. Tomorrow. See you then.”

The next day is Christmas Eve, and, Daniel assumes, the last day of his Secret Santa gifts. He still has no clue what the tiles are supposed to be telling him, but he feels a nervous energy thrumming in his stomach. Something big is coming, he thinks.

He gets to his desk by 8:45, eager to unwrap his final gift and finally figure out what’s going on. To his surprise, instead of just the one little green box he’s expecting, there are three wrapped presents on his desk. The first is the usual green box, but the tag that he’s expecting to proclaim the usual salutations instead proclaims “open me first.” He checks the other two. The box to its right reads “open me second.” And, just to be sure, he confirms that the final box on the end says to open it last.

With a slight shake in his hand, he picks up the first box and plucks off the bow to secure it to the pinboard. He opens it up and pulls out the last tile, another W. He adds it to the stash in his drawer and then reaches for the second box.

It’s the same size as the first, wrapped in the same way- no bow on this one. Perhaps it’s a one bow per day kind of deal.

Inside, there’s a small slip of paper folded in half. Daniel unfolds it to find a clue:

W_ _ _ Y_ _ H_ _ _ D _ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ M_?

He waffles for a moment. Does he open the third gift, or does he unscramble the letters? The opening instructions didn’t say, so he supposes he could do either. Tiles, he decides.

He pulls open the drawer and tips the tiles onto his desk, then carefully arranges each one face up and pointing in the right direction.

Slowly, he starts moving tiles around. The Y is probably You, he guesses. So perhaps the M is Me? And then H could be Have. W is What? No, he realizes; that wouldn’t make sense. W for Will?

A sentence begins to take shape.

WILL YOU HAVE D_ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ ME?

Daniel is fairly certain where this is going. He arranges the last few letters into place and then reaches for the third box. He tears open the paper, carefully as usual, and opens the box.

Inside is a card, on which is printed the name of the fanciest restaurant in Perth, which Daniel has been wanting to try for months, but which he has lamented to Max several times is impossible to get reservations for.

Beneath the name of the restaurant is today’s date, the 24th, and a time, 7pm.

Beneath that, there’s a final line, which simply says “TURN AROUND.”

Daniel takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and then swivels in his chair.

Behind him, Max is leaned against the doorframe to his office.

“So?” he asks. “I asked a question, I think.”

Daniel looks back over the tiles, laid out neatly on his desk. He looks back at Max and grins helplessly. “Yeah, Maxy. I would love to.”

[goatskickin]

On the first day of GOATmas, my true love sent to me...

...coffeetables! Wood recolors of coffeetables!

I've recolored every coffeetable that EA has created in a pack or expansion that:

1) already had wood recolors

2) didn't have wood recolors, but I felt that wood recolors suited them

For the colors: I am using Dynamite, Depth Charge, Shrapnel, Safety Fuse and Time Bomb by @pooklet, and Nesert and Honey by Io aka @serabiet.

Please check out the Add-On's I've recommended! They are meshes made by community members that will use these textures too. Or, they are bits of CC that go along with these nicely!

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

Ada Quaint Coffee Table - tablecoffeequaint

notes: same texture! removed the shine though.

Centerpieces Coffee Table - tablecoffeeartnouveau

notes: not the original texture! This uses a texture from Seasons.

Chabadii Yet Another Coffee Table - tablecoffeechabudai

Notes: brand new texture! The legs are mostly the same but the top and square parts are that Seasons texture I like.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Club Distress Avigno nRectangular Coffee Table - tablecoffeeclubrectangle

notes: mostly the same texture but I messed with the edges of the top just a little.

Club Distress Square Coffee Table - tablecoffee1x1

notes: texture is unchanged but boy was this one shiny! Shininess was removed.

Recommended Add-ons: #1 #2

Coffee For Four - tablecoffeeluxury1x2

notes: uses a texture from (I think) a BG wall. Shininess removed and just the one glass recolor.

Recommended add-on: #1

Cozy Colonial End Table - tablecoffeeendcolonial1

notes: mostly the same texture! Also had the shine removed.

End To End Table - tablecoffeeenddesigner

notes: another BG table that was hugely improved by having the shine removed from the TMXT. This one has no white recolor, as the base game already had one.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Eye Of The Brain Trust - tablecoffeecomfy

notes: this is one of my very favorite coffee tables! This one uses that Seasons wood again on the top, but the legs are unchanged.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Fair Square Surface - tablecoffeejock

notes: a coffee table that I never use! But it's cute. Same texture.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Full Of It Coffee Table - tablecoffeesocialite

notes: the top is a new texture, but the bottom is the same. This table has 2 subsets, so you can mix and match the wood of the table and the decorative curlicues.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Mission Coffee Table - tablecoffeemission + tablecoffeemission1x1

notes: EA didn't repository these even though they share the exact same texture? 🤔 Texture is not changed.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Psychadelic SimAtri Coffee Table - tablecoffeegroovy

notes: this is another one of my very favorite coffee tables! I think it's got a very cool atomic age/midmod design, so I was happy to put some brand new wood textures on it. The base and top are also 2 separate subsets, so you can mix and match the woods I've made, or any other RC's you have for it.

Queen Anne Coffee Table - tablecoffeecolonial

notes: new texture! removed some shine too

Recommended Add-on: #1

Scraps Ranch Cafe Mate Coffee - tabletablecoffeepine

notes: uses a blend of 2 textures of this to make one. So cute, really.

Recommended Add-on: #1

Simple Structure End Table - tablecoffeeendvalue

notes: no need to improve on a classic! Contains no white RC as the base game already had one.

Spindle Table Recolor - tablecoffeespindle

notes: I got to be creative with this one! Uses some of the base texture, but also a few textures from the pirate ship from Bon Voyage.

Tempered Tea Table - tablecoffeecentralasian

notes: I know that not a single one of you uses this mesh regularly (me included) so this has a BRAND NEW texture. And the top and bottom are 2 separate subsets.

AND 4 different options for tops! They use the grass mat for the fire dancers from Bon Voyage, and some textures from some paneling walls.

Download - Sims 2 Coffeetable - Wood Recolors

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

Recommended downloads: ariffrazalin's "One More" Slot Package For coffee tables

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 , 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓

summary , your brother is desperate for you to like real madrid and is willing to do whatever it takes to get there

pairing , real madrid! footballer! carlos sainz x fem! alonso! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

BIG BRO NANDO

I come bearing great news!

LIL SIS Y/N

what have you done?

BIG BRO NANDO

I got your team to get you to do some pr with

*drum roll*

REAL MADRID

LIL SIS Y/N

you're really not gonna stop until I find football midly interesting, huh?

BIG BRO NANDO

yup

you are spanish

your lack of interest in the beautiful game is scary

and who knows you might find your future husband there

LIL SIS Y/N

I doubt it but okay

HEY JUDE

okay dude are we gonna talk about the tension between you and Y/N or....?

CHILI BOY

hola jude

also I have no idea what you are talking about

HEY JUDE

dude we allll saw you basically eye fucking each other the WHOLE TIME we were filming

CHILI BOY

.....

was I that obvious?

HEY JUDE

yes.

anyway cuz I'm such a good friend

I'm going to help you shoot your shot

so I invited Y/N to tonight's game and I also invited her to the after party

so you two can talk and get to know each other

cuz the quicker the two of you do that the quick you can get the team paddock passes and you two can get married and do it couple shit

CHILI BOY

wow...

thank you for removing my free will and planning my life out for me

HEY JUDE

what are friends for mi amigo

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 . 4hrs ago

seen by fernandoalo_oficial judebellingham 87,489,583 others

fernandoalo_oficial replied to carlossainz55 story!

hurt my sister and I will kills you

and I don't care if you play for my favorite team or not

judebellingham replied to carlossainz55 story!

so.....

when's the wedding?

cuz I was thinking summer

too soon my friend

carlossainz55 replied to yourinstagram story!

hola hermosa

I think you left your earrings at my place

and I think you should come get them

I wasn't wearing earings last night tf?

if you want me come over you could have just asked

okay

can you come over

sure as long as you buy me food

anything for you princesa

yourinstagram and carlossainz55

liked by fernandoalo_oficial charles_leclerc 87,479,459 others

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 #mycalvins w/ the love of my life

view comments

user MY WIFEY AND MY HUBBY TOGETHER???? SINCE WHEN???

user rue when was this

judebellingham took you long enough mate

user why goes my gut tell me nando had something to do with this

camavinga and finally he makes a moveee

user love how we are all losing our minds and planning a wedding in the comments section

vinijr when's the wedding and what color suit should I get?

user okay but how slay is this hard launch

aurelientchm one hard launch for chili one large step for man

user love that the madrid team saw this coming from miles off

fernandoalo_oficial !hala madrid!

user nando plz now is not the time for your madrid propaganda

user oh twitter must be in shamles by now

user at this point might as well rip up my 2024 bingo card

view more comments

fernandoalo_oficial and judebellingham . 2hrs ago

seen by yourinstagram landonorris 87,368,479 others

carlossainz55 replied to judebellingham story!

I owe you one dude

just make me the best man at your wedding and then we are square

and get killed by toni?

not a chance my friend

was worth a try

[pathologicalreid]

hello!! i've been reading your spencer works for a while and they're definitely one of my favorites from this app :) so I'd like to request something :)

I've always loved the idea of spencer coming back home from a case earlier than expected and surprising reader (gf or wife) at work to pick her up! and reader could be a chemist or a scientist so spencer is interested and involved in her work somehow and they're just talking, being cute and fluffy and just happy to he together again <3 thank you for your time, and no pressure!

pure and applied chemistry | S.R.

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: fluff content warnings: fem!reader, chemical burns, lab incidents, yapper!reader, kisses word count: 1.06k a/n: i wasn't even going to post this today but i wrote it and fell in love with spencer and his biochemist gf!!!!! this might be a pairing that i start taking requests for - thank you so much for requesting!

The air was barely starting to chill in the district, making it still unseasonably warm as you tried to take off your jacket without removing your book bag. It would’ve been easy to be embarrassed, but you were the only person around this part of campus – most students had a Reading Day, but your lab was still open, and your graduate student still wanted to work.

You had been the last person in the lab that she approached with her idea, having been turned down by the rest of campus, but you weren’t one to turn down a challenge. In fact, you had been so bored in the lab that you considered applying for another PhD.

Tying the sleeves of your jacket around your waist, you pulled your phone out of the back pocket to check the campus transportation app. As you started typing in your passcode, your eyes caught on a notification from your boyfriend.

Spencer Reid, PhD: Not home until tomorrow.

Sending back a quick emoticon – because an emoji would just show up as a square on his phone – you switched to checking what time the bus was supposed to show up at your stop before a passing car caught your eye, the car slowed to a stop right in front of you. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “It’s illegal to idle at a bus stop!” You called out to the driver, “You can’t stop here!”

Startled, you took a step back when the driver opened their car door, gripping your phone tightly as you mentally prepared for a confrontation, but only ended up confused when a familiar mess of brown hair peeked over the roof of the vehicle, “You don’t recognize my car?”

“Of course, I recognize your car! I just didn’t think it could be your car because last you told me you were in Nebraska!” You said, outwardly complaining as he rounded the hood of the car to open the passenger door for you.

Spencer smiled at you over the car door, “I told a fib in order to reap the benefits of surprising my girlfriend at work. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Rolling your eyes as you sat in your seat, “Oh, I’m sure she could probably find the strength to forgive you.” You were beaming as Spencer took your book bag and placed it in the back seat.

As you buckled your seatbelt, Spencer got back behind the wheel, checking his mirrors before merging into the road, once you reached your first stop light, you noticed Spencer looking over at you, “What did you do to your arm?” He asked, making note of the gauze wrapped around your dominant forearm.

Frowning, you looked down at your arm, having previously forgotten the gauze was even there, “Chemical burn,” you answered indifferently, studying the first aid on your arm. “Not a bad one though, probably won’t even scar,” you added. “Oh, that reminds me, I need a new lab coat,” you blurted, fishing around the center console of Spencer’s car for a pen so you could scrawl a reminder on your uninjured forearm.

“How did you get a chemical burn on your arm?” Spencer asked, returning his eyes to the road when the light turned green. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached over and casually placed one hand on your denim-clad thigh.

You were no stranger to a small burn on your finger – you were fairly certain that your fingerprints were no longer a viable way of identification – but you usually got away with a thorough rinse and a unicorn band-aid. “My grad student, Leslie, mislabeled something in the lab. Another person tried to get me to report it, but Leslie cried so hard while she was helping me clean my arm that I didn’t want to get her in any sort of academic misconduct trouble. I mean, who knew that hydrochloric acid caused chemical burns anyway?”

Spencer deftly flicked the turn signal as he moved to get on the highway to his apartment, “Uh, you and I know,” he said, there was a critical tone in his voice, but it was directed toward your flippancy instead of the injury itself.

“It wasn’t super concentrated, so I’m really fine,” you insisted, telling him the same thing you had told Leslie when the incident occurred, “I’ve done worse.”

Smiling, your boyfriend shook his head, “It’s a wonder they still let you in chemistry labs.” He was referring to a burn you had given yourself a few months ago, leading to an embarrassing trip to the hospital where doctors had to debride a nasty burn to your thigh. That particular incident had led to the director of your lab gifting you an enamel pin, designed to look like a hazardous materials symbol.

You looked at him, watching intently as he exited off the highway and made it to his apartment. Not long ago, an impromptu trip to Spencer’s would’ve been an inconvenience, but now you had two drawers of his dresser as your own. He led the way up the stairs and you followed him through the door of apartment twenty-three.

Locking the door before turning all of his attention to you, he cupped your face in both of his hands before kissing both of your cheeks – right over the tender, red lines left by your lab goggles. “Promise me you’ll be more careful in the lab,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and herding you over to the couch.

As you sat down on the couch, Spencer joined you, grabbing at your hips until you gave in, seating yourself in his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. You intertwined your fingers at the back of his neck, tilting your head to the side, “We’re all done with tests anyway – there will be considerably fewer chemicals involved while I get on my knees and grovel to the federal government for funding to start a clinical trial,” you told him, considering the repercussions of pressing your lips to his.

“What kind of chemicals could you possibly need to apply for federal research grants?” Spencer asked, gently resting his hands on your waist.

Beaming, you waggled your eyebrows at him, “One, three, seven-Trimethylpurine-two, six-dione, baby.”

Realization dawned on his features as he understood, “Ah, caffeine.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: almost rape, touching without consent, kissing without consent, calling one a bitch and 'easy' for not giving in, heartbroken-ness, fluff at the end, bucky being protective

Summary: Your roommate, Bucky, is one of the worst players you've ever seen. He has a new girl every week and doesn't stay too long to get feelings. When a cute barista asks you on a date, he's not too keen on who it is. You think this is the opportunity you need to get over Bucky but the date doesn't go as planned, and your knight in shining motorcycle comes to your rescue.

Squares Filled: leather jacket (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night after a particularly rough night. Your roommate had a special friend over making all kinds of noises you’d rather not hear come from his room. It’s not that you were upset that he was getting some and you weren't, it’s that you wish it was you in that room instead of her.

But it’s not like you’re gonna tell him that.

You get out of bed with a yawn and leave your bedroom in search of food. You just bought your favorite cereal that you can’t wait to dig into. You turn the corner and stop when you see a woman you don’t know in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Upon closer examination, you see it’s your favorite cereal.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the woman says and smiles at you.

“Is that my cereal?”

“Bucky said I could use this one.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes.

You turn and storm over to Bucky’s room which is down the hall from yours. You don’t bother knocking so you enter his room expecting to see him lounging around but he’s standing in the middle of the room with only a towel on his waist. Water drips from his toned chest down to the top of the towel, and you find yourself watching the water droplets disappear behind the towel. He clearly sees you checking him out which boosts his ego. He always knew you had a thing for him ever since his sister introduced you two. You look at his face to see him smirking and you give him a deadly glare.

“Are you gonna stay for the show, or…?”

He undoes his towel but doesn’t remove it from his waist so he’s still covered. You jump at the thought of seeing how big his cock is.

“Tell your whores to keep their paws off my shit. She better be gone before I get home.”

You turn and slam his door, missing the way he smirks at your attitude. You quickly get dressed and head out before Bucky can leave his room. You meet up with your best friend who happens to be the sister of Bucky. She waves you over once she sees you but frowns at the sour look on your face.

“Is it Bucky again?”

“He was non-stop fucking this bitch all night, and she was eating my cereal this morning. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I didn’t get to eat breakfast.”

“I told you not to be roommates with him.”

When you moved into town to get away from your overbearing family, the only person who would rent to you on such short notice was Bucky. You weren't a stranger, you’re practically part of his family, and he figured he could make some decent money off your part of the rent since he can pay for it fully without your help. Mia warned you not to room with her brother since he’s known to fuck a new girl every week, sometimes twice a week, but you needed a place to stay.

“He’s not all bad all the time, but there are times like this morning when I want to wring his sculpted neck,” you groan.

“Still not over your crush on him?”

Mia is used to all her friends having crushes on her brother. He’s charming, cocky, arrogant, can be super romantic, very protective, and smoking fucking hot. You’re the only one who stuck around long enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

“He’s not worth crushing on.” She looks at you and raises her eyebrows. “Okay, no, and it’s never going to happen. I’m just waiting for this phase to pass however long it may take.”

You two head inside the coffee shop and get in line. Since you couldn’t eat breakfast at home, you’re going to get a sandwich and a coffee with a double espresso. You get to the front of the line and smile at the male barista, Jackson.

“Hi, how are you doing?” he asks.

“Better now that I’m gonna get some energy in me.”

“What can I get for you?” You give him your order. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You blush at the compliment and look at Mia who smiles. “Is it safe to assume you’re single?”

“I am.”

“Can I take you out tonight? Say, seven?”

You’re quite sure what to say to this. Your mind thinks back to Bucky and how you’ll suffer waiting for him, and Mia shoves you forward as if to say, “This is your way of getting over Bucky”.

“Sure.”

“Cool.” He scribbles his number on the cup and winks at you. “Call me.”

Mia gives him her order and the two of you wait on the other side of the shop for your coffees to come out.

“Girl, I can’t believe that just happened. He’s cute!”

“I know. Is it bad that I'm actually kind of excited?”

“Hell no! What are you gonna wear?”

“That new dress I bought last week.” You grab both your coffees when they’re ready and hand Mia hers. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work done before the date.”

“You work too much.”

“You can’t talk. You don’t work at all.”

You and Mia say your goodbyes and you head back to your apartment. Thankfully, Bucky’s whore is gone so you’ll be able to get some work done. Bucky locked himself in his room but you’re not thinking about him right now. There is a mini workstation across the room from you where you can go to work. Bucky was using it as a video game/music room but gave it to you when he heard you needed it.

You put your headphones on and get to work. You’re an IT support girl for Apple that specializes in fixing computers for people by logging into their network and diagnosing the problem. The next six hours are spent on the computer, talking to people, logging in lots of hours, and watching movies on your other screen.

You have two hours before the date starts so you decide to clock out for the day. You’re not sure what kind of date you’re going to go on so you’ll grab something to eat here. The kitchen is empty when you enter it, and you grab the ingredients for a BLT. Bucky made a bunch of bacon since it was expiring soon, so you’re finding new ways to eat it before it goes bad.

You slather some mayonnaise onto the bread and layer the ingredients on there. When you put the lettuce on, you squirt some mustard on top. The first bite always tastes like Heaven, and you smile as you chew.

Your smile is lost when you feel someone right behind you. Bucky places his left hand on the counter next to you and the other reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet above you. He presses his body against yours so that you feel the outline of his muscles.

“Excuse me,” he whispers into your ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a glass. I’m thirsty.” He backs up slightly which allows you to turn around but the hand on the counter doesn’t move. “Are you done with work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s do something. The bowling alley doesn’t close until midnight.”

“I can’t. I have a date.”

Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He takes three steps back from you and anger is evident on his face.

“What?” With who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You grab your sandwich and a paper plate and walk back to your room. Bucky shakes his head and quickly follows after you, not being done with this conversation.

“Yeah, I would.”

“Can you get out? I’m changing,” you say and set your sandwich down on your dresser.

“If I see something I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it and I’m all out of singles.”

“Get out.”

You push him out of the room and close and lock the door. Bucky can’t believe what he’s hearing right now so he takes his phone out to text his sister. If anyone knows who you’re going on a date with, it’s her.

Before getting dressed, you decide to take a shower. Bucky likes to keep his room clean but the bathroom is a different story. He has products everywhere, his short hair litters the sink and his clothes are strewn about haphazardly. You thought you were bad. You ran out of shampoo and conditioner a while ago so you’ve been sneaking some of Bucky’s without him noticing, and this time is no different. He’s not gonna miss a few drops from each bottle since he has so little hair.

After the shower, you walk into your room and grab the dress you bought last week. It’s strapless with the sleeves only covering your arms from the elbows down and it goes down to your knees. You pair this with chunky wedges that make you taller by a few inches, and you pin your hair back in soft curls.

As soon as you slide in the last bobby pin, Bucky comes into your room through the bathroom since your door is still locked.

“I could have been naked.”

“What the fuck are you doing going on a date with Jackson Elliot?”

Mia must have told him who you were going out with.

“He’s a nice man who asked me out. What the big deal?”

“He’s a playboy.”

“Like you aren’t?” you scoff and swipe some lip gloss on your lips.

“Doll, you wish you were going on a date with me.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask me. He did.” You unlock your door and head into the living room with Bucky trailing behind you. A motorcycle can be heard from the street below and seconds later, a message pops up on your phone. “He’s here.” You two look out the window and see Jackson on his motorcycle which makes Bucky laugh. “What?”

“There’s no way in hell you’re getting on that.”

“You have a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, I know how to ride one.”

“I have a date to get to. Excuse me. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky watches you leave the apartment. You two are on the second floor so it doesn’t take long for you to get down to Jackson. Jackson gives you a winning smile as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle. You look up at Bucky who is watching from the window, and you slide your arms around Jackson’s waist just to piss him off. He glares down at you as Jackson takes off down the street.

He didn’t even give you a helmet to put on.

Jackson takes you to the beach that is quickly losing people as the sun goes down. The water gets colder, the wind gets cooler, and the beach becomes less crowded at this time of night. You didn’t know he was taking you here otherwise you’d have worn something warmer.

“Wow, it’s kind of cold out here,” you shiver.

“You’ll be alright,” Jackson says without offering his jacket to you. He takes you down to the tables where people can sit and have lunch or stop to rest underneath the umbrellas. The employees of the restaurant had tied the umbrellas down so they wouldn't blow away in the night. “So, have you lived here long?”

“For a year, yeah,” you nod.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you at the coffee shop? I think I would have remembered someone like you.”

“Well, my best friend and I actually went to this other coffee shop that’s in the middle of our apartments. We went there for quite a while but they closed, so we--” You’re suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. You’re completely taken aback by this and pull away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

He leans in and kisses you again but you put your hands on his chest to push him away.

“Wait, a second--”

“Come on, you know you like it.”

Instead of attacking your lips, he forces his mouth on your neck. His right hand grips your thigh and starts moving dangerously close to a place where you don’t want him.

“No, stop,” you gasp and try to push his hand away.

“Come on, baby. There’s no one around for miles.”

“I said stop!”

You push him away and slap him right across the cheek as hard as you can. An angry look passes over his face as if you told him you wanted this and suddenly said no.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he scoffs and gets up.

“I thought you wanted to date me, not do this. I wouldn't have come otherwise.”

“The only reason I asked you out was because I heard you were easy. I’m out of here. Find your own way home.”

If there were people around, they would for sure hear your heart break. Jackson leaves you stranded at the beach with no way of getting home. You contemplate calling Bucky but you don’t want to hear an, “I told you so” from him. Plus, he’d probably get off on seeing you so sad. Jackson’s motorcycle roars to life as he drives away, and you miss the second motorcycle that speeds by the beach after him.

Thirty minutes pass by that feels like hours, and you’ve moved from the tables to the sand where you’re sitting and watching the ocean crash upon the shore. No one is on the streets walking by or on the beach but you hear footsteps come closer to you. At this point, you don’t care who it is. The person sits down next to you and you see familiar boots come into view.

“Look at me,” Bucky says gently. You can’t. He slides two fingers under your chin and pulls it toward him so you’re forced to look at him. There are new and dried tears on your cheek that break his heart to see. He uses his other hand to wipe the tears away. “He’s not worth crying over.”

“I thought he liked me,” you sniffle. Bucky removes his hands from you and that’s when you see it. Bucky’s knuckles are raw and busted with dried blood crusting over the wounds. You grab his hand and run your thumb gently over the wounds. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

He lets his hand linger in yours for a few seconds before he pulls away completely.

“I bought this dress last week. I never thought I’d get to wear it,” you sigh sadly.

Bucky opens his mouth to tell you just how gorgeous you look in it when he sees you shiver. Upon closer examination, he sees goosebumps litter your arm. He immediately takes off his leather jacket for you to wear.

“Here, put this on.”

“No, I’m okay--”

“Doll, take the jacket.”

He wraps the jacket around your shoulders. You’re immediately enveloped with warmth and his smell. It makes you smile which doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky.

“Thank you.”

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Bucky gets up and holds his hand out for you to take which you do, and he helps you to his feet. He takes you to his motorcycle and grabs the only helmet for you to wear.

“No, you should wear it.”

“Doll, take the damn helmet.”

You do and shove it on your head. Even this smells like him which is making you dizzy. He gets onto the bike first then you do, but you’re not pressed against him like he knows you should be. You’re sitting up instead of leaning into him, and he fires his baby to life. He jerks the bike forward and you go flying into him from behind. You wrap your arms around his waist to steady yourself and he smirks without looking back at you.

He drives off carefully but you’re holding onto him for dear life. Just as he thinks he can get used to holding onto him, he arrives at your apartment building. No words are exchanged as you two make your way inside the apartment. You stop right outside your door and Bucky leans on the wall next to it.

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“We live together. I was just driving myself home,” he jokes.

“Still. Thank you,” you smile. You grab your doorknob to enter your room when you pause. “Oh, here is your jacket.”

“Keep it. I have another one.”

“Okay,” you blush. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Doll.”

You and Bucky retreat into your own rooms for the night. You get ready for bed and crawl under the covers. You try and get some sleep but you can’t get the feel of Jackson’s hands off your body and the feel of his lips off your lips. No matter what you do, the disgust you feel is blocking you from getting sleep.

The thought of Jackson is replaced with the thought of Bucky and how gently he treated you. There is a softer side to Bucky that no one else sees but you that you’re grateful for. Maybe… no, he probably won’t let you. Maybe? You get out of bed and walk through the bathroom to his door and knock on it lightly.

“Come in,” you hear him say.

You push the door open and see him lying on his bed without a shirt on. It makes sense he doesn’t have one on since he’s going to sleep but the sight makes your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Bucky doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he scoots over to give you room to sleep. You quickly crawl into bed and lay flat on your back. The both of you don’t say a word to each other for fear of ruining the moment. What would you even say to him? Thank you? Sleep tight? Don’t let the bed bugs bite? Bucky can hear the gears in your head turn so he turns toward you and wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you into him so your back is pressed against his chest.

It’s scary how well you fit against him.

Bucky can feel you smile against his arm as you allow sleep to come easily to you. He presses his head in your hair and takes a whiff of your scent. He smells his shampoo in your hair and the thought of you using his shit makes him smile.

You make him happy and he hates it took him a year to figure it out.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[coco-loco-nut]

Barnstormer

pairing: charles x reader

summary: charles can’t help but to fall for your small town charm

a/n: so @vitalverstappen and I have been grinding on this prompt for a while (i sent the jumble of ideas to V.V. after this being in my drafts for a few months). read the sister story linked at the end!

masterlist requests open

——————————

Once again, you are in your home country to race, only this time it’s in Austin. You spent the break on your family’s ranch back in Montana, riding your horse and reconnecting with nature. You always joked that you are the racing version of Hannah Montana.

“Y/n, it must be nice to be back home. You certainly look the part,” Laura starts your interview with F1TV.

“Ah, well Austin is much different than Montana. Two different types of cowboy, I’d say,” you are dressed like you just came from the stable. Boots, jeans, hoodie, hair in a braid, and your hat. A quick look says you aren’t a driver.

“How so?”

“Well, they like the spice down here much more, and I’d say that we are much more equipped to deal with snow. One thing I do know is that we both love a good rodeo,” you feel your hat be removed from you head as you speak. Turning to your left, you see Charles put it on his head.

“Yee haw, little lady,” Charles does what might be the worst Texas accent you’ve ever heard.

“Charles Leclerc, you did not just grab my cap by the brim. I don’t think you know what you just did,” you take your hat back, by grabbing the crown - you aren’t an animal, holding it at your side as to not make fans think anything of it.

“Well, I’ll let you sort that out,” Laura turns to the camera. “Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with Y/n and Liam Lawson as we discuss being rookies, Lightning McQueen, and more,” Laura says, letting the camera cut away.

“Sorry we couldn’t get more of an interview, I gotta explain cowboy culture to Charles,” you cringe, pulling the Ferrari boys away. Charles listens as you ramble about how it’s rude to touch a hat, then straw versus felt and why despite it being past labor day you are wearing straw, and finally that his act of taking your hat could be seen as a sign of flirting. You reach the Alpine home and quickly dart inside.

“Mate, I don’t think she got it,” Carlos shakes his head as Charles groans.

“I’ve been trying all season, she just isn’t getting it,” Charles whines, sure you will never pick up on his flirting.

That night you take the boys to a bar just outside Austin that some friends back home recommended, they said it was where a lot of rodeo cowboys go. It does not disappoint, the neon offsetting the wood with Tim McGraw crooning on the speakers. You practically run to the bar to order your favorite cheap beer.

“Some of my friends said this is the best bar in town,” you yell over the music.

“Logan? He was your childhood best friend right?” Franco says, hoping that he got it right.

“Logan? No, although he is my friend. You really don’t know how far Montana is from here and Miami, huh,” you swig your beer before narrowing your eyes at the Argentinian. “Are you even old enough to be here? How did you get in?”

“Franco is 21, barely, but he is,” Alex says, a little put off by the place. Most of them did try to fit in, but everyone in the bar can tell they are tourists based off them wearing felt hats when it’s blistering hot outside.

“Oh, they have a bull,” your eyes light up as you quickly make your way to the mechanical animal. You don’t care if it’s embarrassing for you or the guys, you want to see them fall off.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Max asks, wary of the old machine.

“Sure, that’s what makes it fun. Why don’t you go first?” Your eyes challenge Max as a small crowd watches on, interested at the goings of your group.

“I, uh,” it doesn’t take you more than a second to realize that the boys are scared. You square your shoulders, finishing off your beer.

“Alright, but you’re missing out, it’s mighty fun,” you shrug, taking your hat off and setting it upside down on a table beside the operator. You hand him cash as you step onto the worn blue mats, eyeing up your worn, red competitor.

“Don’t you think this is a bad idea? I don’t want to explain to the team how you got hurt,” Pierre’s panic is evident even as the guys pull out their phones to film.

“Yeah no, I learned from the best. My hometown best friend is a champion rider,” you expertly mount the mechanical bull, unphased as it starts bucking. You hang on much longer than the boys would’ve, and when you feel yourself be about to get thrown off, you dismount with a flourish.

The guys are speechless beyond cheering for you as you put your hat on, heading back to the bar for another beer. Men tip their caps to you and you blush, a little overwhelmed by the attention.

Charles knows enough to know that you put on a show and have the interest of even more guys now. It doesn’t help that your boots and shorts show off your legs just right, and the tee you chose fits perfectly. Your hat adds a layer of mystery as it helps hide your eyes, but not your beautifully curled hair.

You don’t do much the rest of the night other than drink the guys into a hole, get violently drunk, and stand on a table singing Dolly Parton.

You pull up to the paddock the next day wearing a college football jersey, the school you’ve supported since you were a young kid.

“Texas or Georgia?” someone yells at you and you can’t help but step back in disgust.

“Neither, I’d rather die,” you yell back, despite not having a team in the SEC.

“How are you alive and still manage to look good,” Franco groans, walking beside you.

“Sheer will, and a bit of my mama’s secret recipe,” you grin.

“How does he do it?” Charles asks Max, watching Franco effortlessly flirt with you, even though Franco doesn’t realize he’s flirting.

“No idea. Have you talked to Mick, he’s pretty close with her. Maybe he has an idea,” Max shrugs.

“Mick? Like Mick Schumacher?”

“Yeah, they karted together. You could also just talk to her,” Max suggests, pushing his friend in your direction.

“So you are actually a cowgirl?” Charles asks you once Franco drops back to yap with Max.

“Yeah, my parents have a working ranch. I help out when I can, since they helped find people to house and train me throughout my career,” you smile.

“That’s so cool. You have your own horse too, right?”

“Yeah, do you want to see him? He’s a feral mustang that we domesticated, I’m thinking of breeding him with a quarter horse soon,” you pull up photos as Charles tries to understand everything you said.

“What a pretty rider,” Charles hopes you might pick up on an obvious flirt.

“Thanks,” the compliment barely registers in your mind.

“Maybe you could teach me how to ride sometime,”

“Oh, I was going to have Mick, Pierre, and Logan come up after Brazil. You should come too, hopefully we will beat the snow. There’s already been some, but if you bundle up you will be fine,” your smile melts Charles’s brain.

“Snow? Already?” Charles can’t imagine it, it hasn’t even been Halloween.

“Oh yeah, nothing like a warm cider and a fireplace though,” Charles can hear your accent come through.

“So are they dating?” Franco asks, observing how close you and Charles are standing.

“No.”

“But he likes her?”

“Yes.”

“And she likes him?”

“Hard to say,” Max shrugs.

“I am so confused,” Franco stares at you and Charles, it’s obvious you both like each other.

“Me too,” Carlos agrees, having come to retrieve Charles when he overheard Franco’s conversation with Max.

“Y/n is a smart woman, but she certainly cannot pick up on flirting,” Max shakes his head, walking off.

Charles did join you at your ranch before Las Vegas, with strict orders from his trainer on how to keep up with his training. Charles wasn’t expecting a whole complex of barns and houses. You could almost call it an operation.

They were all shoved in the back of your pickup, luggage safe on the bed of the truck, as you and a ranch hand chat in the front of the car.

“You boys are lucky there’s room in the main house during your stay,” the ranch hand had joked. Because the group arrived so late, it’s straight to bed for everyone. Everyone except you.

Charles is restless, and despite his better judgment, gets out of bed for a change of scenery. He walks into the living room, looking at family photos, school yearbook photos, and pictures of your races. Some of your first trophies are proudly displayed above the fireplace, as well as a picture from your first time in the points in F1. He takes in everything, it’s clear how proud your parents are of you.

Charles finds you on the porch, with a steaming mug and quilt thrown over your legs. You are staring at the sky, not really paying attention. He’s freezing, wearing more layers than you, but he sits beside you anyway. You hand him a spare quilt, which he thanks you for.

“It’s nice, to slow down out here, the open skies and quiet,” you break the calm silence.

“It seems busy around here,”

“You have to be. It’s a hard business, no days off. I’m lucky that we are a larger ranch and my family can afford things like my career. Most of my friends stay and work full time, some work for us now. The guys out there are just going in for the night to the bunk houses, they will be up at dawn ready to work,” you explain. Charles was right in that this is a business, and a large one.

“Makes me feel bad that we are here on a break then,” Charles rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t be. Plenty of ranches book out guest houses for tourism, it’s good income. Plus, you are here as my guest. The town will love to meet new people,” you reassure him, reaching to pat his hand.

“So, I guess you really don’t know every city that we visit?” Charles grins. None of the drivers ever bothered to look up where you are from, so they joke that you know Miami, Austin, and Las Vegas like they are your home town. However, they’ve been taking it more seriously as of late.

“No,” you whisper, a hint of a smile on your face as you watch the snow fall. You find yourself tucked under Charles’ arm before you bid him goodnight, going to bed.

You are up early, eating breakfast with your family.

“What’s your plan for the day?” your mother asks as you help clear the table.

“I think a trail ride then go into town, I don’t want to impose too much, but I’ll probably show them around,” you say, thinking of a schedule.

“Why don’t you do a late lunch in town? I have some things for you to pick up,” you agree with her idea.

“Go ahead, Mama, I’ll clean up,” you say, knowing there is administrative work to do.

The boys meander down about an hour later as you are finishing baking a bread you started yesterday.

“Morning boys,” you wipe your hands as they stand cluelessly in the kitchen. “Take a seat, I’ll whip you up something quick,” you motion to the kitchen table as you head to the fridge.

“Do you need help?” Logan asks, but your look quickly tells him to shut up.

“Coffee’s in the pot if you want some, milk in the fridge, food will be ready in a few minutes,” you wave the offer off.

“What’s your plan for today?” Mick asks, quickly taking to the coffee.

“I’ll take you on a trail ride and tour around some of the ranch, then we will go into town and grab lunch. After dinner we can go to the bar if it isn’t too bad out,” you look out the window, most of the snow has melted off already, but you can never be too careful. The boys quickly eat what you serve them and you take them out to the barn.

“Need help?” Charles asks as you blanket and saddle four horses, one he recognizes as yours. It’s impressive, watching you easily sling the heavy saddles on.

“Hold these, stand still,” you hand him the reigns, making sure he is in a safe position.

“Are you wearing chaps?” Mick notices the tan leather covering your jeans.

“Yes, and you all should too. You will thank me later when the wind isn’t biting at your legs. We should have some extras, hang on,” you grab a few pairs and tell the boys how to wear them.

“This is quite fashionable, I should’ve worn them in Austin,” Charles twists his legs, looking at the western wear. You just shake your head and continue getting the saddles ready.

“This is weirder than I thought,” Logan says, a little uncomfortable in the gear as you help him mount the horse.

“Sit up straighter, and widen your legs a little,” you fix his feet as you speak, adjusting the saddle and stirrups. You help each of them mount the horses you saddled before mounting your own horse.

You start with the tour before the trail ride, and the boys are feeling a little sore from the trotting as they dismount.

“I’m impressed your hat stayed on,” Mick says as he feels his muscles ache.

“That’s the point of a proper fitting hat. You can tell your trainers you had your workout for the day. Come on,” you make them follow you to the truck. As you get into town, you get stopped every other minute, being asked how you are and who your friends are. The boys look around the small store as you pick up your mother’s order.

“You and your boyfriend make quite the handsome couple,” the clerk, a church friend of your mother, says. She observes your startled face and smiles. “The one with brown hair, he seems very protective of you,” you look at Charles and catch his eye, causing both of you to look away with a blush.

“We aren’t dating, he’s a friend that I race with. They all are,” you deny, but you can’t help but wonder why your heart skipped a beat at the accusation.

“Sure honey, but you should see the way that boy looks at you,” you take the package, mind spinning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” your voice is quieter as she pats your hand.

“You take care now, don’t forget about your roots when you become a big star,”

“I’ll dedicate my first win to you all,” you smile, taking a step away from the old oak counter.

“Good girl. Watch out on the roads tonight,”

“Yes, Ma’am,” when you approach the guys you notice how you and Charles naturally gravitate towards each other, but you are quick to distract yourself before you think too much about it.

“Everything alright?” Mick asks, poking your head. You swat away his hand as he goes to poke you again. Logan and Charles are trailing you, talking about something that you couldn’t care less about.

“Yeah, just thinking about something the shop owner said,”

“That Charles likes you?” Mick says, you huff and walk a little faster.

“He doesn’t though, Mickie. We are just friends, he’s never even flirted with me. Besides, I don’t even like him like that, and I would NEVER date someone on the grid,” lies, well mostly. The grid part is pretty true, that’s a mess you don’t wasn’t to touch. Mick can read you like a book, he’s your best friend and basically your brother. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into a side hug as you walk.

“He flirts with you endlessly, you are just too blind to see it. Meine Liebe, he is so in love with you that he would crash someone out for you,” Mick looks at you, watching the gears in your brain turn.

“Well, if he is flirting with me that much, he really needs to step up his game,” you look at the sky, then to Mick.

“It’s a shame you are basically my brother, why can’t we date?” you groan, Mick loudly laughs.

“Alpine would hate that, can’t have two of their drivers dating,” Mick lowers his arm, poking your side.

“They are separating us, but our love shall prevail,” you carry on, enjoying the antics.

“Even Mick flirts with her easier than me,” Charles groans, looking at Logan for backup.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but they are literally the definition of siblings separated at birth. They joke like that all the time, he’s just her best friend,” Logan shakes his head.

“So there’s a chance?”

“Not with your flirting,” Logan pats Charles’s shoulder as they approach your truck.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, there is a storm coming,” you turn the key in the ignition, watching the boys get in the truck. Logan calls shotgun, leaving Charles and Mick in the back.

“Who let dying cats sing?” Mick teases you and Logan as you sing along with a country song, earning him the bird from both of you.

“Alright boys, wash up and then be down here for dinner. We won’t wait for you,” you say as you park the truck. Charles grabs the package for you, carrying it inside.

“I’ll take that, son,” your dad grabs the package from Charles as you walk through the door. “Y/n,” you follow his beacon, leaving the boys alone.

“Well, I will see you all in a bit,” Mick heads to his room, it’s obvious that he’s visited before.

Much to Charles’s dismay, he makes no progress on the flirting end for the rest of the week. When you get to Las Vegas, you are swept up in media and team duties. Charles sees more of Pierre than he does of you that weekend. He does notice when you post on Instagram.

instagram

y/username brought the boys home with me, still wouldn’t call them cowboys

mickschumacher to be fair, Logan and I fit in pretty well, Charles though…

charlesleclerc hey!

y/username charlie… you still don’t know how to wear a hat correctly

alpinef1team we 🫶 our cowgirl (and Cowboy Mick)

mercedesamgf1 our* Cowboy Mick 🤠

scuderiaferrari it’s okay Charles, even if you aren’t a cowboy, we still love you (Mick was ours first, back off)

charlesleclerc hey! you are supposed to be on my side

mickschumacher love the support guys 💙🩵❤️

user29 the shared admin parenting 😭

y/username charlie, it’s okay, not everyone is cowboy material

user aww, she brought Logan with her. best former grid friendship

user4 so we are ignoring the part where she got them all to wear chaps?

logansargeant you hear that mick? i’m better than you

mickschumacher impossible, i’m literally her best friend

y/username and they looked wonderful in them 🥰 (i love you two equally)

user2 poor charles, always forgotten even if they weren’t friends until recently

charlesleclerc best cowgirl and teacher in Montana ❤️

y/username only Montana? i’m wounded, you’re uninvited from the next trip

Mick hung around, pulling double duty for Mercedes and Alpine. He watched the race from the Mercedes garage, a tense place to be during the race. The Mercedes team qualified poorly in Q3, leaving them in the midfield. Logan accompanied him, an odd sight for most fans.

You had qualified well, with you and Pierre in P6 and P7 respectively. A crash up front took out Max and Lando, leaving the two of you in a battle with Oscar, Charles, and Carlos. A late safety car and a well timed undercut allowed you to move into P2, fighting for the win with Pierre right behind you. With five laps left to go, you find luck on your side once more. Oscar locked up, giving you just enough room to overtake him. When you cross the line five laps later, you feel tears running down your face.

“We did it, holy shit! Great work team, I’m so proud of you guys. This win is for the huge support network I have back home - I told you I’d dedicate my first win to you, and it’s for this team who has struggled and fought to be in the position to win races again,” you say on the radio as you take your cool down lap, waving to fans as you drive past.

The feeling of standing on top of your car is like nothing else, the crowd electric with you first win, a home win.

Pierre pulls into P3, quickly hoping out to embrace you, rubbing your helmet.

“We did it! You are amazing!” Pierre cheers.

“Finally a podium for us,” you agree, joining Pierre in heading to the barricades to celebrate with the team.

Charles makes his way to where you are putting on your team hat and sipping water a few minutes later.

“Welcome to the home win club,” he hugs you, wishing he was on the podium too.

“Thanks, Charlie. Sorry, I’m just so overwhelmed,” you smile but tears start to flow out of your eyes again. This is likely the only win you will ever get, and you know that.

“Amour,” his voice is soft and sympathetic as he wipes the tears off your cheeks. “You deserve every bit of this win, you drove so well,” he reassures you as you nod, sniffing the tears away.

“Interview time, champ,” Pierre grabs you, pulling you towards Guenther. He quickly shoots Charles a look that says he’s talking about this later. Pierre is protective of his teammate, and he isn’t scared to rip into his childhood friend if needed. You watch Pierre speak, then Oscar, before it’s your turn. They wait for you, not wanting to leave you vulnerable to the media.

“Y/n, first off, congratulations on a monumental win. How are you feeling?” Guenther asks, his voice jovial. He watched you grow as a driver in the Ferrari program, so he feels a bit proud.

“Overwhelmed, mainly,” you laugh, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “I, uh, carry the legacy of many women before me, those who drove, served as test and reserve drivers, and affiliated drivers. I really hope this win made them proud and make the girls driving in lower formulas know they can succeed here too,” you say, still breathing a bit heavier.

“That was one heck of a drive, how were you able to take the win?”

“A lot of luck, and confidence. I knew that I had to take some risks, especially on that overtake and defending the last few laps. I’m glad that Max and Lando are okay, those collisions aren’t fun,”

“One more question and then I will let you get your trophy. How will you take this confidence into the last two races?”

“Just keeping the energy up with the whole team. They’ve worked hard to get Pierre and I on the podium, and it’s nice to see it pay off, especially at my home race. You never really know when you will get to the podium, so I think we will just cherish this and hope the points keep coming,” you say, relieved to be done with interviews for now.

“Thank you, congratulations again,” Guenther says, letting you go. You give a wave and disappear to where Pierre and Oscar await.

“An all Alpine podium,” Mick teases, waiting around the bend for you.

“Former, but I guess it counts,” Oscar smiles as you launch yourself at your best friend.

“I’m so proud, meine Liebe, and I know Dad is too,” he hugs you tightly. Mick lets you go a moment later, promising to see you after the podium.

The cooldown room is nice, you relax in the chair as Oscar and Pierre chatter, watching the race highlights.

“Nice defending, you were a brick wall against Charles,” you fist bump Pierre.

“Ready?” Oscar asks, dragging you out of your seat. Pierre is the first out and onto the podium. “Just breathe, this is your moment,” Oscar reminds you before stepping out. Before you know it you are being drenched in champagne.

“This is just the start of the celebrations, mon amie,” Pierre says, wrapping an arm around you as you head back to the motorhome.

“Drinks on me tonight,” you cheer, ready to shower off the champagne and get media over with.

You are one of the last to arrive at the club, mostly because your phone died and you had to wait on it to charge. However, that just means you had more time to pregame, and you did.

“Oscar!” you drunkenly cheer, wrapping your arms around the Aussie.

“When did you get here? Are you already drunk?” he asks, trying not to laugh.

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I drank with Logan,”

“Logan is here?!” Oscar looks around the room, trying to spot his friend.

“No, silly, he’s in Miami. He was on the phone, duh,” you walk towards the bar, ordering a round of shots for your friends and you. You don’t hesitate in downing it, ordering a drink to take with you back onto the floor.

“How much have you had to drink?” Franco asks, wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady.

“Mmmm, five shots,” you giggle then poke his cheek, pushing his face a bit due to your sloppy motions. “You’re cute, just a babbyyy,”

“You are very pretty as well, how’d you know I have a thing for older women,” Franco flushes, the flirting coming out of nowhere. He honestly thought that you and Charles were dating, but he can’t help that he’s a natural flirt.

“Pierre! George!” you walk away before he can even process everything. You are off to do more shots, intending to get fucked up.

“You okay?” Max asks, quickly replacing you at Franco’s side.

“Y/n was just here, she’s an odd drunk, can she even drink that much?” Franco asks, very confused.

“She brought Tennessee moonshine to a race last year and she out drank Valtteri. I didn’t realize she’s been here,” Max looks around, searching for you.

“Whatever she drank earlier was strong then. Aren’t she and Charles dating? Why was she flirting with me?”

“Who knows,” Max shrugs, leaving Franco confused and alone as he spots you back at the bar in the VIP section the drivers reserved.

“You are cut off for now,” Max shakes his head as he stands beside you, taking the drink from your hand and keeping it for himself.

“Charlie! Tell Max to give me my drink back,” you pout, crossing your arms as you lean back against the bar, stumbling a little as your back hits the edge.

Charles’s eyes rake across you in concern as he quickly reaches out to steady you. He looks away at Max to get a silent read on the situation.

“Amour, how much have you had to drink? Didn’t you just get here?” Charles is more worried that you may have been drugged, no one acts like that after one drink.

“Five shots,” Charles watches you count on your fingers, holding up seven of them.

“And here?”

“Um, three shots and a drink. I just got here fourty minutes ago,” your words slur together as dizzying lights flash around the bar. The change in music tells everyone that Lando got behind the DJ booth.

“You are cut off for the hour, go dance some of it off then I will buy you a new drink,” Max says, winking at Charles. Before he can respond, you are dragging Charles onto the dance floor.

“You are a terrible flirt. You know who told me that you like me? Mickie,” you poke Charles’ chest as you dance close to him. Charles wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you close but providing support.

“It must’ve worked if you know now,” Charles leans down slightly, voice low against the pulsing music. You tilt your head up more, looking at him through hooded eyes, his body moving against yours as the bass builds up.

“No,” you say, lips centimeters away from brushing against his as the beat drops. “You need to work harder to earn me,” you slip out of his arms, going to find your aforementioned friend, leaving Charles alone and horny.

You find yourself back at the bar, no one there to stop you from drinking more. Well, that is until Mick shows up right before the bartender walks back over to you.

“Let’s celebrate the win, if you drink any more right now you will puke in 10 minutes,” Mick pulls you away, back to the other drivers. Fuck Charles, the bar is your one true love and Mick is denying you it.

“Here,” Lewis hands you a drink which you happily take. It’s just a mocktail, but you don’t know that.

“To our cowgirl and her first win!” Carlos toasts, cheers ringing out across your group. You catch Lando sneaking away back to the DJ booth, and you quickly follow.

“Lando, let me play a song,” you beg, and who is Lando to deny you after your first win? The grid gravitates towards the two of you as Lando helps you set yourself up.

“What are you playing?” Lando yells as you quickly pull up your song. Your devilish grin tells him everything as he helps you blend it into the song currently playing. The song slows as a low “tu tu tu tu” rings out, the lights turning in to focus on Max.

“Is this because I took away your drink?” Max yells, embarrassed and a little annoyed even though he thinks it’s funny. The rest of the guys are singing along, teasing Max. That’s the last thing you remember.

You wake up groggy on the couch of your hotel room, Mick in the bed. Based on the weird feeling in your mouth, you were puking before you fell asleep. Stumbling, you cross the room and crawl into bed beside Mick.

Mick wakes you up a few hours later, cup of coffee in hand.

“How much do you remember of last night?” he asks as you lightly groan, launching into your past memories.

You virtually sit down for a podcast later in the week to discuss your win.

“How does it feel going viral?” The one podcaster asks after you discussed your career and fighting in the midfield.

“Viral? Honestly, I’ve been so busy since the win that I haven’t been on social media,” you laugh, very confused.

“Gen Z has taken to you, you are all over TikTok and Twitter,”

“That’s wild, thanks Gen Z,” you smile, giving the camera a little salute.

“The after party seemed fun,”

“From what I remember, it was. It’s always a good time going out with the guys. Can I confess something?”

“Please do,” the podcaster says, eager for some gossip.

“I thought Franco was too young to be out with us. The first time he showed at the bar in Austin, I genuinely thought he was about to be thrown out,” you say, letting the conversation stay of that for a bit.

“So, a photo of you and Charles dancing at the club after your win went viral. We asked him about it and this is what he had to say,”

“Oh yeah, we’re dating, didn’t you know?” Charles says, looking quite serious, but you know it’s a joke, at least you think it is.

“Haha, yeah we are engaged, almost got married in Vegas. Didn’t you know?” you joke, stifling a laugh.

The podcast blew up and Alpine ate it up. The media team was quick to partner with Ferrari to do a couples challenge in the Alpine motorhome. You quickly leave once it’s done, escaping to your driver’s room. Charles follows you, sitting beside you as you take a deep breath.

“Sorry, it’s all a bit overwhelming. I am from a small town, I’m just not used to this type of attention,” you say and Charles holds your hands, providing comfort as electricity courses through you.

“You don’t have to be. Your fans think you are perfect, I think you are perfect,” Charles says, your eyes meeting his, searching for signs that he isn’t telling a lie.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been in love with you forever. You are beautiful, and kind, and smart,” Charles trails off as his eyes flicker to your lips. His right hand finds itself moving from your hand to your cheek. He leans in, lips brushing yours as he hesitates - waiting for you to take action.

You tilt your head up, mind spinning as you take in his scent and the moment. You don’t waste another moment, pressing your lips to his. Charles tenderly pulls away after a minute, resting his forehead on yours.

“I didn’t lie in that interview, amour, you are my cowgirl,” he says softly, a hint of relief in his voice.

“Yours? Oh no, Charlie, you will have to work harder to win that,” your sly smile tells him that the challenge isn’t over yet as he leans in to kiss you again.

“My stubborn, stubborn cowgirl,”

Can’t get enough? Check out @vitalverstappen’s sister story ⬇️!

[followthebluebell]

would love a list of low energy enrichment activities to try with cats. im always looking for more ways to be involved with my cat but she is 3 and very high energy and after a long day i often dont have the spoons to chase her around with a toy while she finds new exciting hiding spots to look at it from. this makes me sad :( i dont want her to be understimulated

Food-based enrichment:

Feeder toys are a favorite! But these carry the drawback of requiring cleaning afterwards, so calculate that into your spoons. Some of them are machine washable, so that may be an option if you've got a dishwasher.

Snuffle mats - another favorite, these also require the occasional clean but don't need to be cleaned every time you use them. You can make your own pretty easily. Or, hell, just grab a very cheap bath mat from a dollar store. Your cat won't know the difference.

Scatter feeding - literally just. Throw a handful of treats or kibble on the floor or down the stairs. Literally, that's it. Calculate clean-up into your spoons because cats aren't reliable vacuums. But it keeps them busy for a few minutes.

Toy based enrichment:

Get a cardboard box. Crinkle up some brown wrapping paper or whatever cheap paper you've got on hand and put it in the box. Congrats, you've now combined your cats two favorite things in the world: boxes and paper. For extra fun, add catnip (or silvervine or whatever your cat's drug of choice is), toys, or treats.

Ripple Rug: this is actually a specific product. It's literally a square of carpet or rug with velcro on the bottom that attaches to ANOTHER square of carpet or rug. It's fairly stiff. The idea is that cats can dive into it and make their own little tunnels. My cats LOVE it. You can probably recreate it quite cheaply using cheap rugs or carpet, tbh.

Cat crinkle mats: again, this is something fairly easily made at home. You get some cheap crinkly plastic and sew it into two old washclothes or something similar. Congrats. You now have a little mat your cats can sit on, bat around, and crinkle. You can also just buy them in multiple sizes. Many have catnip in them too.

Paper bags: cats just love paper bags. Be sure you remove the handles to make sure no one gets their head stuck. Most cats entertain themselves pretty well with bags.

Cat springs: those little plastic springs are a favorite, and so are those cheap rabbit-fur covered mouse toys.

Cat race track toys: another favorite.

Cardboard cat scratchers: the cardboard ones require MORE cleaning because they leave little bits of cardboard all over the place, but it is kind of nice that you can just throw them out when your cat is done. Any scratcher is good, though. I've listed cardboard for ease of clean-up and because it's a very popular material for cats.

Cat tunnels: like bags and boxes, cats just love tunnels.

I'm not a big fan of laser pointers or robotic toys. I haven't seen many cases of light chasing disorders in cats compared to dogs, but it's an issue enough that I don't readily recommend them. I also don't really recommend robotic toys because a lot of them make noises that cats don't like. If your cat enjoys these things, congrats; I just don't find them universally popular enough to really recommend. But I had to mention them, because if I didn't, my notes would be full of 'but what about Product X!!".

I've tried to keep this list to low cost toys and activities. There are other things you can do, like installing wall shelves or getting a big cat tree, but these things are more likely to be expensive, either in terms of money, time, or energy. I wanted to focus on low cost activities that I felt were more accessible to disabled folks.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I like when people make the most of a small house and these owners did their best to make this little 1946 Cape in Cleveland, OH, colorful and interesting. 3bds, 2ba, 1,131 sq ft, $285,089. (One of my favorite series of children's books to read in story time is the classic "The Stupids," by Harry Allard. The Stupid family lives in Cleveland and the funniest book is "The Stupids Die." Somehow, the Stupid family thinks they died and marvel at how Heaven looks just like Cleveland. Their dog is smart, he always comes to their rescue.)

Enter directly into the living room. The floor is perfect and look at how neatly they did the designs on the walls and ceiling. I would remove the curtains, though

Cute 3pc. bath in the hall.

Not sure which bedroom is the primary. This one is smallish and has mirrored walls to give the illusion of more space.

This bedroom looks larger. There they go again, people removing the closet doors. Don't care too much for the wallpaper.

Pink & green kitchen. Nice white Shaker cabinets, but who laid the floor? Is it supposed to be in square sheets like that? I don't know why they didn't cover the whole backsplash with tile, either. Sliders open to a nice deck, though.

The large finished attic is the 3rd bd. I don't know if someone painted the clouds or if it's wallpaper, but they're beautifully done.

Finished basement. There's a bedroom area down here in the corner.

And, this is where the 2nd bath is located.

The laundry room has a nice new aluminum sink.

Very large covered deck on the back of the house.

Plus a patio with a little garden.

Interesting yard with a trampoline that looks like it conveys.

This yard could be lovely.

Path to a very large driveway and 3 car garage, plus a nice shed. I bet a pool would fit in the back yard. I think that this house is a good value for the price. 9,374 sq ft lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/15722-Lydian-Ave-Cleveland-OH-44111/33374920_zpid/

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2

Pt.1 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.

“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 

“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.

“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 

“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?

“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 

“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 

“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 

“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 

“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 

“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 

The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 

Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.

He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 

In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 

“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 

Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 

“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 

“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 

Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 

“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 

There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 

In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 

“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 

He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 

Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 

“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 

The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 

Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 

In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 

Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

[cherryfyre]

Speed Dating, Figure Eight Style

The sun dipped low over Figure Eight, casting a golden hue over the sprawling lawn of the Cameron estate. The event—hosted by one of the Kooks’ most prominent families—was as absurdly extravagant as you’d expect: a speed-dating competition, Kook-style. The twist? It wasn’t just awkward small talk. Participants would be paired up at random and forced to complete a series of ridiculous couple’s challenges. The grand prize? Bragging rights, free dinner at The Pearl, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

Martini!Reader had no idea why she was here. Technically, she wasn’t even supposed to be. But Pope and JJ thought it would be hilarious to infiltrate the event. While they snuck into the catering tent to swipe hors d’oeuvres, you were left to fend for yourself in a sea of Kooks, feeling every bit the fish out of water.

That’s when you saw him: Rafe Cameron, standing by the check-in table, radiating smug entitlement in his crisp white polo and tailored khakis. His sharp jawline tightened when his eyes landed on you.

“Great,” he muttered, running a hand through his perfectly-coiffed hair.

“Trust me, I’m not thrilled either,” you shot back, folding your arms.

It turned out, through some cruel twist of fate—or maybe just Kelce’s bad handwriting—you and Rafe had been paired together.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” he said, stepping closer. His cologne was annoyingly intoxicating. “I’m only doing this to win. Don’t get in my way.”

“Likewise,” you snapped, squaring your shoulders. “Try not to screw it up.”

The First Challenge: “Newlywed Trivia”

The first event was a rapid-fire trivia game where couples had to answer questions about each other, despite having just met.

“Alright, Cameron,” you said, grabbing a clipboard. “Let’s make this quick. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Yours?”

“Green,” you lied, just to make it harder.

The game began, and to your frustration, Rafe was ridiculously good at guessing. He nailed your fake favorite color, guessed your favorite season (“Summer. You look like the type who likes sunburns”), and even got your dream vacation right (“Italy? That’s so basic.”).

Meanwhile, you struggled to read him.

“Favorite hobby?” you asked, scribbling.

“Winning,” he said, smirking.

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re stuck with me.”

Despite the bickering, you somehow scored the highest points, advancing to the next round.

The Second Challenge: “Obstacle Course”

The obstacle course was set up along the Cameron property, complete with water balloons, rope swings, and a three-legged race section.

“Try to keep up,” Rafe said as the whistle blew.

“Oh, please. Don’t trip over your ego,” you shot back.

It was chaotic from the start. Rafe was fast—annoyingly so—but you were nimble, darting under ropes and dodging water balloons like a pro. When it came time for the three-legged race, things got… complicated.

“Stop pulling!” you yelled, nearly falling as Rafe’s long legs dragged you forward.

“Stop being slow!”

By some miracle (and a lot of yelling), you crossed the finish line first, collapsing into the grass, breathing hard.

“Not bad, Pogue,” Rafe admitted grudgingly, offering you a hand.

“Not bad yourself… for a Kook,” you replied, taking it.

The Final Challenge: “Trust Falls”

The last challenge was designed to test trust. One partner would be blindfolded and guided through a maze by the other.

“You trust me?” Rafe asked, tying the blindfold over your eyes.

“About as far as I can throw you,” you muttered.

“Cute. Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, Rafe’s guidance was steady, his voice calm as he navigated you through the maze. “Left. No, your other left. Watch the step. There you go.”

When you finally reached the end and removed the blindfold, you were face-to-face with Rafe, his smirk replaced with something softer.

“Not bad,” you said, brushing off your hands.

“You weren’t completely useless either,” he replied, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

By the end of the event, you and Rafe had somehow managed to win, much to everyone’s shock—and your own. The cheers and applause were almost drowned out by your mutual bickering as you accepted the prize.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said, clutching the Dom Pérignon.

“Good,” Rafe replied, leaning in closer. “Because I definitely still don’t like you.”

But the way his eyes lingered on yours told a different story….