#is this something that i can learn in a weekend

[daxisyzz]

Why so serious? Sergeant

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine, Domestic Fluff

Summary: It’s a lazy weekend and you’re bored, so naturally, you ask to practice makeup on your very serious, very grumpy boyfriend. He reluctantly agrees… not knowing you’re about to Joker-fy him and put it on tiktok. The twist? He looks too good, and now you’re the one suffering.

Warnings and tags: grumpy!bucky, but he loves her so soft for her, joker!bucky??, chaotic avengers' group chat, reader is clearly turned on by him.

Word count: 1k+

A/n: yes, this was inspired by Sebastian's role in the short film "The magic of passion", but he's a magician in that. Check it out if you haven't already. 500 followers special.

Saturdays were for pancakes, questionable movie choices, and Bucky grumbling around the apartment like a feral cat learning to be domestic.

Today, however, you were dangerously bored.

You were sprawled out on the living room rug in one of Bucky’s ancient hoodies, surrounded by your makeup collection like it was a war zone. He walked in slowly, suspiciously, like he was approaching some kind of trap.

“What... are you doing?” he asked, voice still gravelly from sleep.

You sat up like a puppy spotting a treat. “I’m bored.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s never ended well for me.”

You gasped dramatically. “Rude. I’m an angel when I’m bored.”

“You convinced me to sign up for goat yoga last time.”

“And your glutes looked amazing for weeks, so you’re welcome.”

He sighed, already regretting asking. “What do you want?”

You grinned. “Can I do your makeup?”

Dead silence. The kind that stretched just long enough for a tumbleweed to roll by.

“No.”

“Pleeeease? You have the best face. Like, if Michelangelo did eyeliner.”

“No.”

You crawled over on your knees, giving him the full wide-eyed, pouty-lip, you-know-you-love-me look. “Pretty please? You’d be helping me grow as an artist. You’re like… my beautiful, brooding canvas.”

Bucky blinked. “That sentence gave me secondhand embarrassment.”

You clutched your heart. “That’s a yes.”

He groaned but sat on the edge of the couch anyway. “Fine. But no glitter, no lashes, no weird colors. Normal makeup.”

“Of course,” you lied sweetly, already grabbing a white foundation stick.

The man was so tragically trusting when he loved someone. He let you brush and blend and buff without question, arms crossed like a sulking statue while you worked.

He muttered under his breath, “This better not end up on TikTok…”

You gave a noncommittal hum. Because, obviously, this was not going to be a natural glam look.

And of course you filmed it. You’d propped your phone up sneakily on the bookshelf, recording the whole transformation in time-lapse: serious, scowling Bucky slowly morphing into a chaos-clown masterpiece.

You whispered to the camera, “Trust. The. Process.” before cackling silently.

No, this was Heath Ledger Joker territory. And the best part? Bucky hadn’t caught on.

You smeared more white across his face, added deep shadows around his eyes, a little black liner for depth… and then came the red. You dragged the lipstick in that jagged grin shape across his cheeks, trying not to burst out laughing.

“This feels clowny,” he said, suspicious now.

“Shhh,” you whispered. “Trust the process.”

When you were done, you stepped back with a breathless grin. “Okay. Ready?”

Bucky opened his eyes. You handed him the mirror. He stared.

“…You made me the Joker.”

You waited for the grumbling, the classic “Doll, I said normal!” speech—but instead, something entirely different hit you.

You blinked.

Because… damn.

The chaos of it. The cheekbones. The angry smudges. The “I might burn the world for you” look in his eyes.

You felt something stir in your soul. And maybe lower.

“…You good?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing.

You stared at him. “Okay but like… why is this kind of hot?”

He froze. “What?”

You stepped closer, eyes wide. “Like—I thought this would be funny, but now I want to crawl into your lap and make out while ‘Candy’ plays in the background.”

His expression flickered between horrified and smug. “You’re insane.”

You whispered, “Say it like you’re threatening Gotham, please.”

Bucky covered his face with one hand. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

You were already straddling his lap, giggling like a woman possessed. “Do the voice.”

“No.”

“Do the voice, James.”

He exhaled, deadpan. “Why so serious, doll?”

You gasped. “I’m going to combust.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, hands settling on your hips anyway. “You have issues.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped suddenly. “This is going to break my feed.”

Bucky froze mid-eye roll. “You filmed it?”

You nodded gleefully, already editing it to the “Joker stairs” soundtrack.

“If this ends up on the internet, I swear—”

You kissed his cheek, smearing more red on his jaw. “Too late, internet’s already falling in love with you.”

He groaned into his hands. “I hate Saturdays.”

He tried to fight it. He really did. But you looked too happy, too deranged, and clearly too turned on by the Joker makeup to argue.

“Alright,” he muttered. “You got your fun. Take it off.”

“Not yet,” you said, eyes gleaming. “We’re gonna reenact that ‘You complete me’ scene.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Bucky, please, I need it emotionally.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled, but he didn’t stop you as you dragged him toward the bedroom, red lipstick still smeared across his perfect jaw.

And maybe—just maybe—he did the voice again.

The next morning...

(The avengers find the tiktok you filmed, which may or may not have gone viral)

Avengers GC: “Earth’s Mightiest Disaster 💥”

Sam: nah. NAH. you let her joker you up AND film it???

Tony: I just choked on espresso why did that actually go hard

Peter: I don’t know whether to scream or hide he looked into the camera like it owed him money

Bruce: the eyeliner is flawless why was the growl necessary

Steve: …what did I just watch? why is Bucky in clown makeup? why is he talking like that?

Loki: because Midgard is rotting.

Thor: I thought it was performance art

Wanda: he did the voice now I’m rethinking some things

Nat: my soul left my body i need to lie down

Sam: [NAME]. [NAME] GET IN HERE. you enabled this

[Name]: I was bored he was sitting still what did you expect

Steve: what is “break me like a glowstick” and why is it the top comment? what does that even mean?

Peter: I googled it i regret everything

Bruce: there’s fan edits already one has “Toxic” playing over it i need bleach for my brain

Bucky: no one talk to me ever again

Sam: too late joker boy you’re the main character now

Clint: someone printed a screenshot and put it on the fridge in the kitchen btw not saying who but it’s me

[dreamauri]

Hi can I pls request a Sebastian Vettel x reader where he and reader were teamates back in the day now are married reader has won many championships and seb is now her wag.... Attends the races with the kids etc.

U r bloody amazing luv, ur fics r brilliant!!!!!!!

♪ — 𝗪𝗔𝗚𝗢𝗡 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 sebastian vetteln x wife! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . You started out chasing the dream with him by your side—racing, rising, falling into something more. Now, the world watches you shine, but his eyes have always seen you brightest (1.3k words)

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests )

You never thought you'd be the one still racing.

And you definitely never thought he'd be the one on the sidelines.

But maybe, if you really look back, the signs were always there—quiet and golden, tucked into late-night debriefs and lingering glances in the Red Bull garage. You and Seb were teammates back then. Just teammates.

Except… not just. Not when the eye contact lasted a little too long after qualifying.

Not when his laugh cracked open something warm in your chest.

Not when the two of you took the podium by storm, spraying champagne with the kind of reckless joy that felt like forever.

You did everything together—test days, press conferences, summer breaks. You learned each other’s tells before you learned your own. And somewhere in between fighting for fastest laps and stealing bites of each other's desserts, you fell in love.

Fast-forward to now: you’re not just together. You’re married married.

House in Switzerland. Shoes by the door. Kids who’ve inherited both your curls and his stubbornness. He still smells like warm leather and hotel shampoo and something soft you can’t name—but now, it’s wrapped in the domestic comfort of someone who knows where your favorite hoodie is and folds your race suit when you forget.

You always thought you'd retire together. After all, your careers were twined like vines from the beginning—Seb and Yn. Yn and Seb. Champions. Icons.

But after he bowed out—graceful and grinning and a little emotional—life changed fast. You took a year off to have the twins, certain that this was your new finish line. Your body was different. Your priorities shifted. The fire was still there, but quieter, buried beneath lullabies and late-night feeds.

You remember telling him—softly, almost like a confession—“I think I’m done.”

And he just looked at you across the kitchen, cradling a baby in one arm and making coffee with the other, and said:

“You should go win a fourth. And a fifth. I’ll take care of the twins.”

And just like that, the dream flickered back to life.

So you did.

You returned to the grid like a comet, burning hotter than before. Won your fourth title with spitfire precision and a mother’s patience. Your fifth with a calm kind of fury that made pundits whisper you might be the greatest of all time. Meanwhile, Seb packed snacks, braided hair, helped the kids paint glittery signs with "GO MUM GO!" in messy, proud scrawls.

Sometimes reporters still ask if he misses it. The competition. The adrenaline. The roar of the crowd. He always smiles, eyes tracking you from pit wall to podium.

“Not as much as I love watching her win.”

Because now he’s the one in the paddock with a baby strapped to his chest and a juice box in his back pocket, grinning when your name lights up on the timing screen. He holds your helmet like it’s holy. He’s first to clap when you step onto the podium and first to kiss you behind closed doors, murmuring, “My champion.”

You never thought you'd be the one still racing.

But here you are—five stars next to your name. A garage full of trophies. And a husband who was once your fiercest rival… now your fiercest supporter. Still yours. Always yours.

And he's never missed a race.

Your race weekend starts like always—with him kissing the back of your neck as you zip up your fireproof suit, his touch warm and grounding, like the sun peeking through a cold garage. The kiss isn’t rushed or showy. It’s gentle, familiar. A ritual older than your kids but still new enough to make your pulse stutter.

“Win today,” he whispers against your skin, voice low and smiling. “But don’t forget, we’ve got pasta night after.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow like he’s not being painfully obvious.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you miss Italian catering,” you reply, grinning as you tap the tip of his nose.

He shrugs like a man who knows he’s been caught but doesn’t mind one bit. You catch a flash of silver in his beard that wasn’t there last season, and it hits you all over again how lucky you are. That he chose this. Chose you.

Your oldest, Leo, is already at your side, tugging at your glove with eager hands and wide eyes. He holds up his homemade flag with the pride of someone who’s just revealed a masterpiece—“GO MUM GO” scrawled in chaotic, glitter-glued glory. It's crooked and smeared and perfect. You crouch to kiss the crown of his head, feeling his curls bounce under your lips.

The twins are seated on the pit wall, feet swinging as they bicker in loud, animated whispers about who has the cooler paddock pass—yours, obviously, or Uncle Charles’s. You don’t even have to weigh in. Your pass glows crimson with five little stars etched under your name. Their mother: the reigning champ.

Seb hoists the baby onto his hip like it’s second nature, the way he once handled steering wheels and gear shifts. One arm around a toddler, the other adjusting the straps on a mini backpack shaped like a race car. He’s dressed in casual neutrals, ball cap low over his eyes, but the moment the cameras spot him—something shifts. There’s a pause, a flicker of awe. The four-time world champion, the legend, now better known as your husband.

And you swear—every single time—you see it in their faces: respect, nostalgia, and then something softer. Because while the world remembers the fearless Red Bull driver who conquered the world, you know this version of him is even more heroic.

He’s the man who makes your pre-race playlist. Who tells bedtime stories in three languages. Who wipes glitter off the baby's face and still manages to wave at the fans with a grin that hasn’t changed since 2010.

And when your name lights up on the timing screen in P1, he cheers loudest—arms raised, baby bouncing, heart bursting. The cameras always catch him. But you? You only ever look for him.

Because in a sport that never stops moving, he is your still point. Your home. And his favorite title these days?

Mr. Five-Time World Champion’s Husband.

Your race weekend ends like this: helmet off, hair damp, heart thundering under your suit. The roar of the crowd is still fading when you see them—your team already crushing you in hugs, radios buzzing with congratulations, and then them. Your whole world, running toward you like the final straight at Suzuka.

Seb reaches you first, with the twins hot on his heels, their little arms waving and voices high and breathless.

You open your arms wide, wide enough for all three of them to fit inside, and they do—like they always do.

You press a kiss to the top of each messy-haired head, and then to Seb—longer, deeper. The kind of kiss that steals time. The kind that says you did it again, and thank you for holding the fort, and I love you more than winning.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, just like he did when you first met, and laughs—eyes bright with nothing but pride.

“Still the fastest one in the family,” he says.

“Always will be,” you wink.

Later, when you climb the podium—champagne still misting off your suit, the sun dipping low behind the paddock, gold spilling across the sky like someone knew you’d win—you look down and spot him.

He’s grinning like the day he first won Monza. That wide, boyish smile that once lit up entire circuits. But this time, you’re the one standing up there, drenched in champagne and glory. And he’s not holding a trophy—he’s holding your kids. Both of them balanced on his hips, fists pumping the air, chanting your name like it’s the only word they’ve ever learned.

Five stars glitter next to your name now. One husband who never let your light dim. Two kids who think you hung the moon.

Not bad for a girl who started out in his shadow.

Now he lives in yours—and he loves the view.

[masoncantthinkofaname]

Hi!! I hope you haven't answered this but how do you feel about time ratios? Like 1 CR hour is 1 week in ur DR that stuff; I feel like there's no good balance because if I want to spend a while in my dr will I come back in the middle of the day while I'm doing something important?

Also, I've seen a lot of tiktoks about people saying that they can't remember anything from their CR after they come back or that it's super draining. This bothers me because if I shift on a weekend before an exam or test will I forget everything I've learned? This sounds so stupid but please bear with me 😭

Time ratios don't exist! They're made up. Not because you can't script a time to come back to, but because time itself doesn't exist, there's no ''I spent 1 week in my dr so an hour passed in my cr.'' There's just the intention that, when you spent a certain amount of time in your dr, you want a corresponding amount of time to have passed in your cr. Which can really be anything!

Personally I basically always shift (back) to the exact moment I left. You can shift back to the past, future. No need to worry yourself about time ratios, you will come back to the exact moment you want to come back to.

You won't forget anything when you come back, nor will you be drained unless you believe you will be. Shifting isn't a mental or physical action, it doesn't take any energy. The only thing is that, especially if you shift for a long time, you might be a little overwhelmed with all the memories when coming back. For me personally it often takes a couple of minutes or hours to completely adjust again. But that's also because I often shift for years at a time.

You can always intend you won't have any issues, and you won't! It's your experience, it's completely customisable. You will remember everything from your cr once you're back here, I can guarantee you that.

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

I'm back on my Sons of Anarchy bullshit so here you are ~

Something something the 141 being a notorious close-knit outlaw motorcycle club. Price being the mc President, Ghost being the Vice President, Gaz being sergeant-at-arms and Soap being intelligence officer.

And you were the pretty bird that worked behind the bar, 'Too feisty to be a Crow Eater' Ghost would say but 'Too pretty to not have a job at the club' Soap would say. Everyone knows that you're off limits, not because Price said so.

Oh no

But because when you first started working at the club, one of the other bikers mistaking thought you were a Crow Eater so when he thought he could cop a feel you didn't hesitate to grab the closet thing, an empty beer bottle, and smash it over his head. You held the broken bottle and threatened everyone. Stating angrily that if anyone was to touch you then they'd end up in A&E.

Unfortunately for you, Gaz saw that as a challenge.

A challenge he succeeded with every time. It almost became a game between you both

Every weekend, at some point through the night, he'd back you up into a corner. Conveniently the corner closes to his room at the club

'Gaz, I will twat you' You'd half heartedly threaten him, not completely meaning it.

Gaz would flash you his pretty boy smile 'Sure you would sweetheart'

You'd lift you hand to hit him but Gaz was quick. He was always quicker than you. He'd pin your wrist to the wall, wrapped his hand gently around your throat that he knows makes your knees weak.

He knows you better than you know yourself. The subtle flinch when he goes for your neck, the way your breath hitches, a silent protest he ignores. He learned that a sharp bite on your shoulder, a playful aggression, elicits a moan so sweet, so utterly yielding, it makes him want to devour you whole. He knows the precise pressure to apply, the exact spot to sink his teeth into.

He knows how to make you look at him. Cupping the back of your head, his thumb gently pressing beneath your jaw, tilting your face upward – just enough to catch the innocent, wide-eyed gaze he adores. Those doe eyes, so full of a naive trust that belies the raw, desperate need that writhes beneath the surface. Those eyes, those eyes are his downfall, his salvation.

Every time Gaz whispers those words into your ear, your heart skips a beat.

'Gonna make you my old lady,' he groans, his breath hot against your skin as his hips thrust against yours. You can feel him, hard and insistent, as the tip of his cock constantly batters that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

'Yo- You say that every time,' you gasp, your voice high and full of lust. 'You never make good on your promise.'

Gaz flips you onto your stomach, his hand coming down firmly on the middle of your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He fists your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. You can feel his breath against your skin as he slowly pushes himself back into your sloppy hole.

'Then let me,' he begs, his voice low and full of need. He picks up speed, his hips slapping against yours as he takes what he wants from you. 

And you let him

Maybe becoming his old lady wouldn't be so terrible

I am on a motherfucking ROLL lately

[rimeswithpurple]

It's still Wednesday over here and I really wanted to get a post in today. I spent my day corralling elementary schoolers on a field trip to the Natural History Museum and it took a lot out of me. Thank you @thewholelemon, @drowninginships, @monbons, @lovelyladzzzz and @fiend-for-culture for the tags!

I started posting Beautiful Roaring Scream last week and a new chapter will be going up on Friday. In the meantime, here's some Simon POV:

Once we’ve made it inside Baz’s room, I briefly take it in from the corner of my eye and suddenly it has my full attention.

“Why is your room so much bigger than mine?!” I squawk. Where my room can barely fit a couch and bed in the living space, Baz has an actual living room with a sofa and chairs and a separate bedroom.

“Hush, let's not argue over size.” He's back to kissing me as he manoeuvres us towards the shower. It’s a good distraction.

I’ve managed to also get a few rough sketches done as well!

I learned how to spin yarn last weekend and it's taken a lot of my attention this week. It's so satisfying to see my consistency improve every time I pick it up. I'm not sure if I'll knit something with this yarn, I might just keep it for posterity. A long term goal would be to one day spin a sweater quantity of yarn, but I'm a ways off from that.

I also made progress on my scrappy sweater and my nephew's cardigan. And Littlest Purple seems to have remembered that I started and never finished a cardigan for her, so I'll have to get to it when my queue clears up a bit.

Tags for Sunday, since it's so late:

@talentpiper11 @messofthejess @blackberrysummerblog @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @larkral @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @cosmicalart @mooncello @that-disabled-princess @cutestkilla @noblecorgi @iamamythologicalcreature @best--dress @emeryhall @ileadacharmedlife @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs @whatevertheweather @rbkzz @ebbpettier @cccloudsss @theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @onepintobean @orange-peony @hushed-chorus @ic3-que3n @bazzybelle @palimpsessed @martsonmars @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @alexalexinii @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @raenestee @skeedelvee @lovelettersto-mars @jyae23 @the-beard-of-edward-teach

[mosneakers]

Brick makes excellent progress at work, but starts to feel the struggle of trying to find his soulmate beginning to weigh on him. He turns to his siblings to help him through it—starting a Darling chatty family call.

Coraleye: I'm probably like... the last one you'd want to get advice from right now, bud. In case you forgot- I'm not doing so dandy, Briggie.

Sunglo: [Mechanical whirring in background] Yep. Count me out, as well. Unless you want me to build you a bot wife, I could probably manage that— after I finish rebuilding Cecilia anyway.

Charm: ...I mean, I am essentially the golden standard of love and romance, ya know... but none of you ever listen to what I have to say. Not that it matters anyway— my charisma can't be taught!

Coraleye: Couldn't you try like... any other Darling?

Brick: Nah. They always give the same shit: "listen to your heart" "follow your gut" "Just fucking find a brain and use it, dumb fuck."

Charm: Was that last one Aunt Salem?

Brick: Yeah dude. [Sigh] I dunno man, I don't think followin' my body parts is working. Maybe I should be taking a page from your story, Corie. How's your homewrecker arc going?

Coraleye: [Self-conscious chuckle] You'll have to tune into season 11 to find out!

Charm: Ha, yeah. Where we find out why the island had to deploy search parties for those good vibes you wrecked during your trip. Coraleye: Stop it! Look, I'm really sorry! I was emotionally compromised, and it was New Years Eve, and I was just...

Brick: Horny. We know, dude. It be like that sometimes.

Sunglo: Please don't enable this... Coraleye: NO. Chronically lonely! And maybe a little...

Charm: [Imitating Sunglo's voice] I can't partake in this debauchery, you heathens. You'll upset my tummy!

Coraleye: Well maybe cover your ears then!

Sunglo: [Groans] Can I just go?

All: NO!

Coraleye: Speaking of Story, has anybody heard from Sawyer yet? Any plans to come back from Selvadorada any time soon? I really miss those babies!

Charm: Shhhhhhh… don't bring up the baby mama. it's a touchy subject right now. I'll text you.

Coraleye: Oh—sorry! ok.

Brick: Ugh! DAMN IT! Can't you just do some sparkly magical matchmaking shit to help me out?

Charm: Yeah Cor, you know—the classic sparkly magical matchmaking shit spell, the one that all spellcasters learn on their first day.

Coraleye: …I mean I have a lot going on, Brick.

Brick: Oh right, you're gettin' interviewed for that documentary thing this weekend, ain't you?

Coraleye: Mhm. But I guess I can figure something out if I can get a good charge going.

Brick: Nah, forget it. You got enough on your plate, kid. I'ma have to get creative and sniff someone out on my own. Even if it riles up a little fury.

Charm: [Sighs] Welp. Sounds like Brick is about to make a bad decision. Gotta go, Frieda's gonna need to be briefed on this.

[paucubarsisimp]

the eric garcia puppy fic was so cute!! hehe can you do a part two where maybe after the pup gets older and bigger, they adopt a cat/kitten instead? it can be a rescue cat that maybe eric found near the training center after his sessions 😊

mi sol

pairing: eric garcia x reader

summary: in which you and eric rescue a small kitten

warnings: none

it had been nearly a year since luna came home with you and eric, and life had never been more full. she wasn’t the tiny ball of fluff she once was—now she was a long-legged, playful goofball with a love for belly rubs, socks, and chasing leaves through the park. she had grown into her paws, but somehow still thought she was lap-sized, always finding a way to curl up on either of you with a satisfied sigh.

eric had taken to dog dad life better than anyone could’ve guessed. he and luna were inseparable. morning jogs, weekend hikes, late-night cuddles on the couch—it was clear luna had stolen his heart completely.

which made it all the more surprising when eric came home one evening looking… hesitant.

“hola, mi amor,” he said, his voice soft as he stepped through the door. luna trotted up to him with her usual excitement, tail wagging like a flag, but eric only gave her a quick pat before turning to you.

you looked up from the kitchen, sensing something was off. “everything okay?”

he scratched the back of his neck. “so… something happened after training today.”

you tilted your head, curious. “what kind of something?”

eric stepped aside, revealing a small carrier behind him. and inside, curled into a tight little ball, was a kitten. orange and white, with a nicked ear and wide, wary eyes.

you blinked in surprise. “eric…”

“i know, i know,” he rushed to explain. “it’s just—i found her near the parking lot at the training center. she was stuck under a dumpster, soaked from the rain. i couldn’t just leave her there.”

you walked over, kneeling in front of the carrier. the kitten looked up at you cautiously, her tiny nose twitching. despite the fear in her eyes, there was something in her that reminded you of luna’s first day. that same cautious hope.

“she’s scared,” you said softly, reaching a hand toward her through the bars.

eric knelt beside you. “i stopped by the vet on the way. she’s healthy, just a little underweight. they said she’s probably around five months old.”

you looked at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “so… are you telling me we’re cat people now?”

he gave a sheepish grin. “maybe just this once?”

luna came over, curious, sniffing at the carrier. the kitten let out a low, uncertain hiss, and luna backed up a step, tilting her head.

“she’s got some sass,” you chuckled.

“of course she does,” eric said, grinning now. “she’s going to fit right in.”

over the next few days, the kitten—whom you eventually named sol, to balance luna’s moonlight with a little sunshine—began to warm up. slowly but surely, she learned to trust you both, especially after realizing luna was more interested in cuddles than conflict. they became an unlikely pair—luna trailing behind her like a gentle giant, and soleil keeping her in line with the occasional swat or stern meow.

one night, a few weeks after bringing sol home, you found eric on the couch, fast asleep. luna lay curled at his feet, and soleil had climbed up onto his chest, purring like a little motor. he had an arm resting protectively over both of them, the softest smile on his face even in sleep.

you stood there for a moment, your heart full.

from one little pup to a home filled with love, laughter, and now the soft pads of tiny cat paws, your family had grown again. and somehow, it felt more complete than ever.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!

[soleauclub]

How to Bounce Back from Wellness Setbacks Without the Guilt

by Soleau Club

We’ve all been there: a weekend of overindulgence, a few missed workouts, or maybe you slipped back into old habits. And suddenly, the guilt creeps in like an unwanted guest at the wellness party. But here’s the truth: wellness isn’t a straight line, it’s a lifestyle—and sometimes, life happens. The key is knowing how to bounce back without beating yourself up.

Here’s how to release the guilt and get back on track with ease:

1. Reframe the Setback

Instead of seeing your setback as a failure, treat it as a learning opportunity. Maybe you got caught up in the moment or faced unexpected stress. Whatever happened, it’s part of the journey. The goal isn’t perfection, it’s progression.

Action: Write down one lesson you can take away from the experience. Did stress cause you to eat comfort food? Was your routine disrupted? Recognizing the cause helps you plan a healthier response next time.

2. Focus on Your Wins

Before you dive back into your routine, take a second to acknowledge your progress. You’ve likely made significant strides in your wellness journey already—so let those wins be the momentum that propels you forward.

Action: Celebrate your achievements. Maybe you’ve been consistent with workouts for weeks, or you’ve made healthier food choices overall. Remind yourself that one off day doesn’t erase all the good you’ve done.

3. Create a Soft Reset, Not a Harsh One

Instead of punishing yourself with extreme detoxes or strict regimens, ease into a reset. Your body doesn’t need harsh “corrections”—it needs balance. Try a day of gentle movement, nourishing foods, and plenty of water. A soft reset is just as effective, if not more.

Action: Start the day with a nourishing breakfast—something like a smoothie or avocado toast. Add a restorative practice, like yoga or a walk, to bring your body back into alignment. Keep it light and stress-free.

4. Practice Self-Compassion

The worst thing you can do is drown in guilt or self-criticism. The longer you stay in that mindset, the harder it becomes to get back on track. Be kind to yourself. Wellness is a long-term relationship, not a 30-day challenge.

Action: Repeat an affirmation like, “I am worthy of this journey, and every step counts.” Talk to yourself like you would talk to a friend. You wouldn’t shame someone for a setback—don’t do it to yourself.

5. Lean Into What Feels Good

Instead of focusing on what you "should" be doing, tap into what feels good right now. Maybe it’s a yoga class, a hot bath, or even a cozy meditation session. Do what nourishes your body and mind, and let that energy carry you back to your goals.

Action: Schedule a self-care activity today—whether it’s a spa day at home, journaling, or simply sitting outside with a cup of tea. Reconnect with your inner glow.

Follow @soleauclub for more ways to stay on track, feel good, and prioritize self-love in your wellness journey.

[ln4norris]

Liam hate is soooooo overdone. He doesn’t deserve the huge heaps of hate he got for getting that red bull seat at the beginning of the season, or the amount of hate he got for losing his seat and getting demoted to vcarb. I think it is better for him to be at vcarb bc he looks so much better without the pressure on him but I hate still seeing the slowson comments…

let's all settle in for this one because I have quite a lot to say, snacks 4 anyone?

First of all, I'm not really a Liam fan. I don't dislike him, I'm just simply not a fan like I am of other drivers (which is ok!) but if there's one thing about me, it's that I cannot stand online hate.

Social media is gift and a curse - I think it's great that I can do something like this and create discussions about all of our different opinions, but it's also the most toxic environment that you can put yourself in

I think a lot of it actually stemmed from people being angry that Yuki missed out on the RBR seat yet again (that's not to justify the online slander) combined with a little bit of Liam not making it easy for people to like him.

Don't get me wrong - what he said about 'being here to win and not make friends' is valid, it's the truth. he's there to do a job, he's doing it - there's nothing wrong with being so focused on your actual profession and not everything else, Max being a great example of that

however there is a very fine line between confidence and arrogance and sometimes Liam dances in between, arguably crossing it

the comment made to the media? facts

the middle finger? cocky unneccesary and within today's day and age you've got to sort of expect the backlash. and after replacing Danny, a very respected driver in F1? ouchhhh

him losing his seat? Predictable. Whether it was fair is a different conversation and I can't in good conscience let you read through that much ramble, but it's fair to to say that I hope Liam stayed off his phone that day and avoided f1 twitter like the plague

I think we saw it coming maybe just not so early on in the season. the 2nd RBR seat is always going to be just a filler seat next to the beast that is Max Verstappen, just someone who can bag a good few points every weekend. unfortunately, Liam wasn't even doing that and at the end of the day, it's a sport (questionably this could be due to the car being more at fault than the driver judging by Yuki's performance in RBR so far and only Max can drive the RB21)

I agree with vcarb/rb being a more suitable place for him at the moment - the team knows him from last year, there's not as much pressure on him like you said, it really seems like a healthier relationship between the driver and the team.

since Liam's move to vcarb I have definitely been seeing less of the hate! People's focus will have shifted to Yuki and his performance at RBR, don't we all know what the score is by now? people just hate on whoever is at the centre of the hot gossip and then move on a week later

honestly? he's 23, this is his first full season of f1, his whole career ahead of him; let him make enemies, let him make mistakes, let him learn from them. We're all human just doing all of this for the first time 💕

all love here always x

send me your most outrageous, controversial and unpopular thoughts/confessions about F1!

[rowenabean]

.

[daddy-long-legssss]

i took a sick day and took myself out to breakfast and baby waved me. life feels good again.

[stiffyck]

Godddd I need aroace scar fics I gotta do everything myself around here

[feyd-meowtha]

Semi-accidentally gave myself a bowl cut, my cheekbones look great though

[moe-broey]

Unfortunately I will be condemned to a fate worse than death tomorrow though.

[crowroboros]

The moment my laptop gets fixed is the moment I'm going to pop off.

There are so many ideas I have brewing and developing in my head. Am I biting off more than I can chew? Maybe. Am I letting my ambition go further than what I'm capable of? Possibly.

But what's the point if I don't try anyway? If I fuck up or if it isn't to the standard that I want it to be then I'll get better and try again.

[dix-rose]

anticipatory grief is actually one of the worst things in the world I hope nobody ever has to deal with it