#para: come with me now
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PARTIES:Â @lukas-dark-miracles @realmackross TIMING:Â Sunday, July 9th SUMMARY:Â Mack finds a flyer for one of Lukas' groups and decides to check it out. WARNINGS:Â None!
The group was still in its infancy, so it was important for Lukas to be careful who came through the doors of the currently unnamed self help group. So he carefully greeted everyone and tried to get to know each of them by name and a few facts. Some facts were easily gotten, and some involved him looking into people after they had left. Luckily, while technology had certainly got more advanced and language became stranger he was still able to look up people easily enough. Â
Still, while he was careful it wasnât to the otherâs demise. Nothing in the group would suddenly drop. He wasnât looking to hurt anyone, but Lukas did know that for the group to succeed he would need to carefully and gently remove people that did not want to take the next steps towards the dark. After all, they still had a purpose but not here.Â
So smiling he greeted the other carefully and said, âHello. Iâm Lukas. Are you here for the meeting?â Part of him was waiting for enough information to look the other up if he needed too.Â
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So much had happened to Mackenzie since she had arrived in Wickedâs Rest. More than she would have liked to admit. The latest debacle seemed to be getting her name stolen by something that didnât even seem real. A slimy little creature of a man that she had never actually met in person and prayed she never would. But in order to do it, she had to give up something else; something of importance that she just couldnât recall. But she had her identity back, and thatâs what had mattered most.
Unfortunately, being Mackenzie again, and not Llama, meant facing all the things she had done. It just wasnât going to be easy, and it wasnât going to be soon. But baby steps. And if that meant her vaguely talking with other people about life then so be it. She had done group stuff before. Table reads. Meet & greets. Itâs just that none of these things were ever âhit you deep in the heartâ personal with the consequence that life could be over in the blink of an eye.
Letting out a soft sigh, Mackenzie nervously held onto the crumpled flyer she had found in town. Was this the right place? There seemed to be a small group of people entering and there was someone moving towards her with a smile on his face, âUh, I think so.â He seemed nice enough, though she still couldnât help, but look around anxiously. Did she really want to do this? Would these people know who she was? Speaking of, âOh, um, sorry. I never introduced myself. Iâm Mackenzie.â Sticking out the hand that was free, she waited to shake his.
__
Lukas was used to nervous people. Most were when they entered a new place, and while this wasnât a holy site at all, it was full of people and the things they wanted to run from. It was one of the reasons why he wanted to make a group after all, to find the people that were running away from something - darkness, the shadow, whatever you wanted to call it. So, he wasnât at all perturbed with how nervous the younger seemed to be.Â
Looking at the flyer in her hand, Lukas nodded, âI think you are, if you're here for the group.â Shaking her hand carefully, knowing now that people noticed how cold it was he had put the air down in the room to feign that he was just cold from that, he said, âNice to meet you Mackenzie. The meeting wonât start for a little while, so if you want to ask any questions please feel free too. I know it can be nerve wracking to join a new group.âÂ
His smile stayed on his face although turned a little more thoughtful when he thought about how she might be uncomfortable. With her first name it wasnât much, but if they continued to talk he might get more information just in case. âI can answer most anything, but I do promise if I canât I wonât say that I can,â Lukas said with a bit of a chuckle. _Â
She shook his hand with a firm, but somewhat shaky grip. It was odd not really being able to feel if peopleâs hands were warm or cold, sweaty or dry anymore. Mackenzieâs seemed to match his in being permanently cold. But she didnât think anything of it. How could she when she couldnât really make out what sensation she was feeling, âItâs nice to meet you too, Lukas.â Though she didnât feel much more at ease, she had taken the first step and that was actually introducing herself.
Mackenzie had set her eyes amidst the chairs slowly starting to fill up, before looking back to Lukas, âWhat kind of group is this exactly?â Was this the right move for her? Maybe seeing someone in private would have been better. She did see a therapist back home after the stalker incident, and it helped. But Wickedâs Rest was a different breed already and with it being a group, maybe it meant she could learn more about her illness - zombism. She just wouldnât ever admit that she was actually one. But maybe someone else would.
âI appreciate your honesty. Iâm finding this town has a lot of liars in it, so sometimes itâs hard to distinguish who's actually being honest with me, and who isnât.â Even Hollywood was full of liars, but this was a different breed.
_
Lukas didnât think much of the otherâs handshake either, although he did note it didnât feel particularly warm. Maybe he should turn the air conditioner up a little bit to not freeze out the others here.Â
He was used to that question by now, and carefully he had an answer that had happened quite organically after probing people on what they wanted in a group. It was actually pretty easy to cultivate a sense of belonging when youâre thinking of why others might feel alone. âThis is a general support group,â Lukas responded, looking to some of the others who filled the room. âHonestly, it is pretty frustratingly vague, but thatâs a bit on purpose. Weâre trying to build a community in Wickedâs Rest where people feel heard and seen. So this is somewhat a place where people can meet each other and build relationships, to see if thereâs anything that might need a group effort to complete - like Rosie over there is starting a community garden and is getting volunteers to help get that started if your interested-â Lukas said looking at the older woman who he was pretty sure was just lonely and genuinely wanted to connect with people, waving a little to her. Continuing he said, â and generally get and give advice on things that might be bothering people in a comfortable environment. Of course we arenât a replacement for therapy or anything of the like - but it can be nice to get to know your neighbors.âÂ
At her statement Lukas chuckled and replied, âI appreciate that. I try not to lie as a rule.â Which was true - or at least true enough. Anything could be the truth if enough people believed in it after all. âAlthough Iâm sorry to hear that youâve been dealing with liars. Is someone bothering you?â His face turned a little serious at the thought.Â
_
The vagueness spiked a red flag at first, until he explained that it was a get to know your neighbors and connect group. Mackenzie had felt like she was stepping back in time. Was this what it was like living a normal life and one that wasnât in the spotlight? Could you actually participate in things like a community garden without there being some other motive to it? She glanced over to Rosie with a soft, sad smile. The lady looked friendly enough. Like she wasnât about to bite anyoneâs head off or steal their name.
Mackenzie looked back to Lukas, âThis doesnât sound quite as scary as I thought it would. Do you have a lot of people who come to these things?â She glanced back down at the flyer in her hands. She had already read it hundreds of times, but what could hurt if she read it one or two or ten more times, especially when he asked her if someone was bothering her. Except in Mackenzieâs mind, she had heard the word something, instead of someone.
How was Mackenzie supposed to reply to that? Something had definitely been bothering her. She had eaten her fiance. She had consumed the brains and bodies of others. She grew up living her life in the spotlight, and now she was having to do a complete 180 and pray that no one would ever find out where she was or suspect what she was. She was lonely. She was scared. And most days her mental health lived so far in the gutter that even the rats and mice wouldnât dare venture into that darkness.
So yeah, something was bothering Mackenzie. A lot of things had been bothering her, but she wasnât about to tell him or any of these remotely normal looking people walking through the door smiling and excited to be meeting once more with the neighbors they had probably grown up with, âUh, no. Not anymore, I took care of it.â It was a vague answer, and one that had sounded remotely threatening in nature, but she definitely didnât mean it like that, especially after mishearing his original question.
_
Lukas gave a soft smile at the admittance that it didnât sound too scary, and said, âI hope itâs not. We do get a good amount of people I think - although I donât really keep talleys. Itâs a pretty new group, and not everyone can make it to every meeting, but Iâd say we get 20 regular participants - not including myself.â After all, in this instance he didnât really count.Â
At her reaction to his question, Lukas tilted his head not really understanding the connection that she had. It was vaguely threatening and he could tell that some of the others in the room looked over at Mackenzie worried at the statement. He could feel their eyes glancing back at him, and after a moment he gave a soft smile and said, âIâm glad that you resolved that problem then. I know Iâve had some problems with people being unsettling to me. - When setting up this group I had to deal with a number of people and deal with them too. Iâm sorry you had to deal with that, and hopefully if someone bothers you again we can all deal with them together by helping them correct their behavior. Itâs awfully hard to do it by yourself, and brave.âÂ
With that, he had smoothed over the stares, and turned the eyes around them either neutral or compassionate depending. It was a skill, but it wasnât a hard one to do in a group like this. Still, Lukas was curious though, why she looked so bothered by something and unwilling to speak on it. He wanted more information, and to do that he needed to keep the peace. âStill, please let me know if thereâs anything that would make you more comfortable. One of the only rules here is that everyone is treated with respect and dignity.âÂ
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Twenty people was quite a bit. Definitely not as big as some of the groups sheâd dealt with in her career, but in a new town with no familiar faces and all eyes on her, it seemed daunting. And the more she thought about it, the more squirrely she became, but she couldnât let him see that. Fake it, til you make it. Playing a role was something she was familiar with, and now looking back on it, she had wished she had created some kind of character to come in as, instead of as Mackenzie Ross: Former actress turned zombie trying to figure out her undead life.
It was the âall eyes on herâ moment that really had her questioning things now. Had they suspected something based on what she had said? Or did someone finally recognize her and start spreading her name around? She couldnât quite tell, and when she tried to focus back on Lukas, her mind raced to the worst possible scenario. But somehow his words of taking care of this so-called person together and not alone made way for some comfort. It had been so long since Mackenzie had truly felt safe anywhere, and even though it didnât feel like it quite so much right now, this community group was starting to become slightly more appealing. Maybe it was the way he spoke, but there seemed to be a certain truth to it that she couldnât quite put her cold-dead finger on, âUh, thanks. Really, itâs nothing though. I solved it, and I donât think heâll be bothering me again.â
That innate feeling that people werenât looking at her anymore and had gone back to their own business seemed to give Mackenzie some comfort, even though she still stammered, when she spoke, âJustâŠum, well Iâm a very private person, because of the job I do, so Iâd appreciate it, if anyone recognizes me at any point, that they donât ask me personal questionsâŠâ Why was she feeling so comfortable with this guy? It felt like she was walking into the lionâs den for supper, and she was the meal.
_
Lukas could tell that there was some sort of conflict in the younger, although on what he could only guess at this point. Still, he didnât think that there was anything there that would be against what the group would be eventually. Besides, if it turned out she was good then he could still help her - at least for a little while as he gently nudged her back to the light. If she was meant for the dark instead - well then she would be well suited here.Â
âNo worries at all,â Lukas said with a small nod, noticing that she had said it was a person. Still, he didnât pry. He wanted more information but he didnât want to cause Mackenzie pain. It was likely if she continued the group that she would open up more and they could resolve anything that might be left on the table. âIâm just glad you were able to do that.â
At her stammering Lukas listened carefully and seemed to connect something although he didnât let it show on his face. After all, there were very few reasons someone would be that private and also worried about questions. She had to be famous in some way - infamous or otherwise. Still, he nodded and said, âSure. I mean, I canât promise anyone wonât ask questions at all, but you can be as anonymous as you want to be. Many people donât share much about their personal lives, and Iâm sure everyone here respects privacy, and certainly if anyone is asking something invasive please come find me and Iâll talk to them. Thatâs certainly not appropriate here.- You donât even have to give a last name if you donât wish to.â After all, Lukas knew enough now he could find her if he wanted and see if she would be a danger.
 Most of the others were now just quietly talking among themselves about their own little projects and things, now assured that Mackenzie wasnât someone to fear. The group after all was mostly informal, just something to pass the time and reach out to others. It hardly mattered who joined as long as they were respectful - something that Lukas was careful to help nurture. It was mostly out of habit but it would help in the future as well. âAre there any other questions that you might have?âÂ
_
Mackenzie was starting to feel a little more at ease. Lukas seemed to answer any and all questions she had and had even been willing to stick up for her despite not knowing anything about her. Well, unless he followed her on social media or had watched any of her movies. And even though she had been nervous about the group when it was all eyes on her, the way they simply went back to their own little conversations gave her peace, âThanks. You guys meet at the same time every week right?â The flyer remained tight in her grip, but she didnât seem to be fooling with it as much.
She still wasnât entirely sure she wanted to join. But Mackenzie was trying her best to branch out. She wanted to make more friends. She was already on her way, but she had met most of them, ironically, through bad experiences. And she couldnât help but wonder if they had just been friends with her out of pity, or worse, because of who she wasâŠNo. She refused to let her mind go there. Paranoia was something that could easily settle in her brain, if she let it, and thatâs not something she needed to deal with on top of everything else.
Giving the room one last scan with each of the people sitting there happily discussing things, Mackenzie felt the slight urge of just wanting to belong again creeping up in her. She had always belonged. It was just second nature to her. Like breathing air, but isolation and the things she had done made it feel as though she no longer mattered, and that was one of the hardest things she was having to accept about her so-called new life, âCan I think about it? I justâŠIâm still trying to figure out some things, and honestly, if Iâm even going to be in Wickedâs Rest that long.â She bit at her bottom lip, nerves starting to come back over her, for whatever reason; a confidence, she once faced the world with, shoved down deep inside of her trying to claw its way back to the surface, before being suffocated out for good.
_
At the question Lukas nodded slightly seeing that the other seemed at least a bit more comfortable with the group. It was good to see. âYes, we meet every week at this time. If it ever changes weâd let everyone know.âÂ
Lukas was good at reading when people were wavering between choices. It was something that a Holy man should know especially with people in his flock. Knowing where people faltered was necessary if you were going to lead them. So, he wasnât entirely surprised to see Mackenzie waiver. Whatever she seemed to be worried about coming out seemed to weigh heavily on her. So, Lukas backed off a little. After all, them making the choice was most of the actual battle.Â
âOf course, thereâs no formal joining process or anything like that.â Lukas said with a gentle smile. âIf you want to come by please feel free too, and if you do not wish to, thatâs fine too. It also doesnât matter very much if you donât think youâll be here long or not. If I can ever be of help though, please let me know.âÂ
_
Knowing that this wouldnât be a missed opportunity if she wanted to take him up on the offer made Mackenzie feel a little more at ease. It wasnât like she had to decide today, and that was nice. She had been pressured into way too much growing up because of the community she was a part of, and ultimately it had gotten her killed. But this felt different, and she could appreciate that.
âThanks. I really appreciate your time. I just saw the flyers around and thought I might check it out.â Mackenzie gave the group one last look, before turning her attention back on Lukas, âAnd I will.â She wasnât sure if she was that comfortable yet. Life in the spotlight meant not trusting people as easily, including the ones who genuinely seemed to want to help, âWell, Iâll get out of the way, so you can start your group.â She motioned back to the door. With a small, but warm smile, Mackenzie gave one last look to the man standing in front of her, before taking her leave. It was a lot to think about, but at least it was a start to something that felt somewhat normal, and maybe pretending that life was normal was something she needed.
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Feliz 7mo aniversario a uno de los partidos mås caóticos de la historia: un récord mundial de 19 tarjetas amarillas
not pictured:
walter samuel 31' đŠđ· coaching staff
lionel scaloni 90' đŠđ· manager
nicolas otamendi 90+12'
denzel dumfries 128'PK shootout
denzel dumfries 129' red card
noa lang 129'PK shooutout
#argentina#argentina nt#selecciĂłn argentina#netherlands nt#lionel messi#cuti romero#virgil van dijk#leandro paredes#world cup 22#qatar world cup#football#soccer#my gifs#this is so funny to me now but it's probably the most stressed i've ever been watching a match INCLUDING the final#nacimos para sufrir#i was in the TRENCHES you don't understand#lisandro having to go back to his dutch manager and malacia and then WEGHORST being signed on loan is the funniest thing to come out of thi#also lisandro is the semiblond argie and depay's the 22#for berwijn's foul look for the guy getting choked to the ground lmaođ so real for that actually#yes im alive! lets pretend i managed to post this on july 9th
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drowned god the weak little beast you put on this earth to write fanfiction and like greyjoys has been neglecting homework in order to reread the affc ironborn chapters and have way too many opinions about the soggiest man in the world. i have Had Some Thoughts on aeron, theon, and names
it really is striking to me just how little people refer to aeron by his name. not just in conversation, but in the narrative itself, with the most notable example of this being aeron himself in his pov chapters constantly thinking of himself not as aeron but as damphair or just The Priest. he refers to himself as damphair or The Priest instead of aeron like twenty times throughout the prophet, to the point where it's used almost as frequently as his actual name. in the drowned man it's only like eight times (which i think is mostly because the vast majority of this chapter is given over to the kingsmoot, where aeron is mostly a spectator and the narrative focus is on the events taking place rather than his reaction to them). in the forsaken, it's ten times, though while aeron is actively imprisoned he mostly thinks of himself as aeron, with damphair being used four times in flashbacks to events that took place in the past, once during a conversation with euron while aeron is defying him, and then three times after he is freed and he can see the sea again
the consistency and frequency of aeron in his own mind thinking of himself as something other than his name reads to me almost like a foil to theon and reek. the identity of the damphair allows aeron to dissociate himself from the burden of his past weaknesses and sins: his pre-drowning frivolity and alcoholism and euron's sexual abuse. for aeron, being damphair is as empowering as being reek is degrading for theon. he is constantly affirming to himself that he is a loyal servant of the drowned god and that this makes him strong. it gives him status and purpose he never had as aeron the boy, who was the youngest and weakest of his brothers. aeron-the-priest cannot be frightened by any mortal man any more than he can be frightened by the dark or by memories. kill the boy to become the man -> drown the boy to become the damphair
(although, of course, when aeron tells himself all this about how god chose him and it makes him strong and special and immune to fear, he is deluding himself. the damphair is haunted incessantly by his brothers. aeron has the tendency to reconcile his lasting fear of euron with his special god-given immunity to such mortal flaws as feeling fear by believing that euron is ungodly/an avatar of the storm god/literally the devil, and therefore not really a mortal man in the same way that balon and victarion are
which is a really interesting parallel to how euron must see himself, what with the whole apotheosis god-king thing he's got going on by twow. in a way, euron is aeron's real god. it is euron's abuse that first connected aeron with faith, and it is faith that aeron uses to cope with and overcome the lasting psychological scars of that abuse and urri's death. aeron doesn't think of euron as a mere flesh and blood human being anymore. he's mythologized the crow's eye in his own mind: euron is not just his abuser, he's a boogeyman, a devil, quite literally the thing that goes bump in the night. and euron knows this, and delights in knowing it and in taking every chance he can to tear down aeron's faith and replace the drowned god with himself as the backbone of aeron's life. which he does not actually succeed in doing, as of the forsaken! aeron keeps his faith like theon keeps his name. it cannot be taken from them)
reek, meanwhile, is not an identity that theon chooses to assume to cope with his trauma. it is forced upon him in the middle of the trauma and he has no choice but to accept it for his own self-preservation. ramsay devastates theon physically: flaying him, starving him, beating him, removing his fingers and toes and teeth and genitals. imprisonment and violence are the tools he uses to take away theon's physical strength to resist him, but reek is how he gets to all the parts of theon that can't be bruised or cut. it's the psychological equivalent of a flaying knife. reek is the weapon he uses to attack theon's identity and sense of self and personhood. though it's important to me to note that those were things theon was already struggling with well before ramsay came on the scene, and that he has an absolutely unbelievably strong will that allows him to retain a degree of his original personality under ramsay and regain his own name later in adwd even after enduring all the torture and abuse. he is a greyjoy of pyke. his name is theon, and if he dies, he will die as theon, not as reek. when he leans into being reek, it is as a means of self-preservation and protection from harm. he basically says as much to jeyne when he tells her to be arya: he believes that serving ramsay and capitulating to his whim is the best way to stay safe. you have to know your name.
ultimately, theon is as relieved to be rid of the name reek as aeron is relieved to see the ocean again at the end of the forsaken. theon's name is a source of pride to him, something that he clings to after he has lost everything else, something that will always be his even after all that has been taken away from him. aeron's name is a source of shame, something that he is reduced to when he feels weak, something that he reverts to when he is powerless at the mercy of his abuser
#aeron greyjoy#theon greyjoy#house greyjoy#analysis#it makes me wonder actually at what point euron stopped assaulting aeron#from what i can see there's no textual evidence that it goes on until aeron's a teenager/young adult but also no evidence that it doesn't#it would be interesting if it stopped entirely after aeron was drowned#further supporting aeron's belief that as a devoted man of god he is now untouchable even by euron#and his faith will protect him#because it has to. because it must. because after balon dies it is all he has left#when the forsaken hits and what aeron wants is for his big brother victarion to come save him...#and it can't happen because victarion is gone and hope is gone with him#hoping against hope that your big sibling will come and save you#the theon-aeron paras are lelling at a dangerous rate#i've got more aeron meta and aeron-theon thoughts cooking in my sick little brain but we're not ready for that#op#religion#meta
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Who needs sleep when you can just daydream of your parame getting another homicidal biological kid who wants to murder him because their evil father (aka our paravain) taught them shit ?
#it's the fourth one he'd kill me if he could haha#AND she comes w a lil bro so 4th and 5th actually#this is so fucked up (she got 4 tattoos before turning 15 mostly out of spite bc parame said minors shouldn't get tats)#(also all her tattoos actually have deep meanings like her connection w her evil dad who taught her to be mean and- thats it actually)#(just a bunch of tattoos about her dead evil dad who raised her to be bad made out of spite to fuck w her other dad#who murdered her evil father whom qhe loved deeply. what a tragedy really)#(so she's gonna try to kill my parame & she's gonna fail big time & cry bc hes too strong for her and I'm EVIL now ig)#(parame gonna cry too dont worry. no one will be having a good time HaHaHa)#paras rant#paracosm : Q#madd#maladaptive daydreaming#paraportal
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Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?
Because I sure do. I canât do that.
Maybe thatâs why I feel like most peopleâs speech is insincere even when it isnât⊠because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who arenât native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy⊠because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.
#I feel like that little kid âIf you ever had a dream whereâ you wantâ you wishâ if you couldâ you wantâŠ.â#Iâm not that bad; but I come very close to sounding like that sometimes LOL#I feel like I spoke more smoothly as a little kidâŠ#but thatâs probably because my verbal communication is almost at the same level it was at when I was eight years old#Like those people who have a growth spurt but end up being on the short side as adults because they stop growing immediately after#I figuratively shot up to 5â0â in third grade and never grew past that point#(with regard to clarity and flow specifically; not vocabulary⊠my vocabulary has definitely grown a LOT#but thatâs only because I get sick of writing or talking in the same way for longer than a year⊠which is why I currently sound#like a pretentious 20th century englishman whenever I write fiction)#I have no ârealâ vernacular because I donât feel comfortable with having a personal vernacularâŠ#because using the same patterns of words over and over again for the same situations counts as para-scripting and feels fake#(to me)#sometimes I hear someone use a new word Iâve never heard in conversation; and I say âCool! Iâll use that word myself.â But I later realize#itâs not just a fun one-time usage of a word; but itâs a catchphrase they say all the time and forsake any common synonyms of the word#â I assume â solely for the purpose of sounding smart to others (their behavior usually justifies my assumption; because these people#act like theyâre better than everyone else)#And sometimes I catch myself doing the same thing; and I switch to a different word or format than Iâve been using; out of nothing#but embarrassment and twisted perfectionism#Or sometimes I come off the high of using lofty words and want to speak in a more commonplace way#and after awhile of that I start thinking âWait a minute wait a minuteâŠ. Now Iâm just trying to sound cool and normal.#This isnât how I talk.â#But the truth is I really feel spoken language is an insufficient medium for communication.#I want a language in which the speakers pry open each othersâ chests#rip out each othersâ hearts; and rub them together#But at the same time it kills me that I cannot do the same amount of tonal shapeshifting when speaking#especially when my default (socially-acceptable) speaking voice sounds extremely airheaded#Iâve been trying to use larger words and more archaic sentence structures in speech lately and it feels good#but also like Iâm trying to show off (even though Iâm not and thatâs just how Iâd prefer to speak)#even then⊠all my speech patterns are copied from somewhere#Itâs been a years-long identity crisis and I want it to end
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trying to find good sources about el divĂĄn del tamarit is such a pain and i'm being so brave about it
#me deciding to study lorca: yeah this is fine :)#me now: đ€Ą#neon has thoughts#i JUST want to know about the andalucĂan influences come on. please. i need another written source i have a good one#the issue is most of what ive found is just biographies and like i already know that shit. i want a general literary analysis thats not#super difficult to read in spanish AND covers a little bit of everything. hate it here#neon tiene pensamientos#solo quedan uhhhh 3 dĂas para terminar el borrador primero. tengo que presentarlo tambiĂ©n chuckles i'm in danger#this wasn't supposed to be a difficult topic!!!
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send help my thoughts are in 3 different languages at once
#crunchyposts#lang#no sé que#que me pasado......#id put the third language here bc truly i am reaching for whatever language comes up first but it would be a DOXX TO MYSELF !!!!!#so. español y inglés para ustedes#i blame tierra incógnita i got so used to hearing spanish words my brain completely melted and now this is happening#i feel like im losing my fucking mind my brain feels like jello#if i balance this out w the third language what will happen. will i die. we'll find out in maybe 8 hours
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ă ⊠F1 GRID â LETS GET PHYSICAL
Ë àŁȘ đ„ navigation. | requests â open | main masterlist (coming soon)
drivers included | max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, franco colapinto, lewis hamilton
description | drivers and their favorite kinks
content warnings | mature content ahead â 18+ only, minors do not interact
authors note | hope everyone enjoys reading this one! if you have any requests for drabbles or blurbs involving those i write for please send it in and i will try to get it out as soon as possible <3 *not spelled checked*
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â đđđ đđđđđđđđđđ Âč
Ò PRAISE KINK !
â whether he praised you or you praised him; max verstappen was an absolute whore for praising
â both in public and behind closed doors he would take the praises only from you. being a three time world champion as many reminded him of his accomplishments heâd down play it. but you? oh he loved when youâd sing his praises
â âyou did so great out there, maxie. no one does it like you.â praising him in public after a great race would look like that. behind closed doors was another story; âright there, max. fuck youâre doing so well keep going.â âonly you know my body, no one comparesâ
â on the other hand max loved praising you and he was an absolute menace for it when heâd have you bent over the bed fucking you with his hands gripping your hair; âcome on, baby. squeezing me so tight you love being handled like this, hmm?â âyouâre doing so well for me, baby.â âsuch a good girl for me.â
Ò QUICKIES !
â max loved taking his time with you but with his busy schedule especially on race weekends he couldnât give you enough time. however, he always made the most of the 10-20 minutes you had together on any occasion.
â whether it be 10 minutes before heâs gotta go out for the national anthem or 15 minutes before he is due to attend the press conference he would grab you and take you in any room that had a lock. âfuck thatâs it, youâre doing so good for me baby.â âgonna have you cum three times before i gotta be out there in ten minutes. you like that?â
â đđđđđđ đđđđđ â”â”
Ò HAIR PULLING KINK !
â the man has beautiful hairâŠhow can he not have a hair pulling kink?
â carlos loved pulling your hair whether it was while you rode his cock or he was taking you from behind; he loved having his hands in your hair
â but it was when you pull his hair that really gets him going both intimately but whenever youâd be watching a movie or out with friends your hand would go to the nape of his neck and travel up to his hair giving it a soft tug
â between your legs carlos is eating you out both sloppily and hungrily, tongue against your aching core his fingers now at your entrance giving you extra pleasure when theyâre stretching you out, âfuck. just like that carlos,â you tangle your fingers in his hair giving it a rough tug when he rubs his thumb on your clit
â every thrust his fingers would give your cunt and tongue giving your folds so much attention youâd tug his hair closer to your pussy if that was possible; âfuck, baby, do that again. harder.â âgod, hermosa, gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep pulling my hair like that.â âright there, keep doing that princesa. wanna suffocate in your pussy.â
Ò DIRTY TALK !
â his native language being spanish played a role in his love for dirty talking he loved the reaction heâd get out of you when youâd hear him speaking to you in spanish
â morning, noon, night; carlos fucked you any moment he had some free time which was rare but on those occasions he did he make sure to speak his dirty thoughts of you: and to you
â âfuck, my good girl, chokinâ on my cockâ âthatâs it, hermosa. let them all hear whose fucking your tight pussyâŠthe only man who makes you cum.â âte ves tan perfecta para mĂ de rodillas llena de mĂ. mi bella princesa.â
â đđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ Âčâ¶
Ò ORAL !
â charles loved having you on your knees mouth stuffed with his cock. your lips showing his tip some extra love with a few kisses after finishing in your mouth and youâd take him once again pulling him in your mouth again for another round.
â what he loved the most though? spending hours in between your thighs giving you multiple orgasms until you are begging him to stop (very rare to want him to stop)
Ò ROUGH SEX !
â despite seemingly carrying a calm demeanor around friends & family behind closed doors charles loved being rough with you in bed. especially after yet another week where ferrari fucks up his race he feels the best place to let out his stress and anger is on you. which you gladly took.
â rough and sloppy kisses you share entering his hotel room to his rough hands pushing you onto the bed and fucking you with his fingers until youâre squirting all over him and the bedsheets.
â your face pressed down on the mattress while he takes you from behind arching your back and yanking on your hair pulling you close to his chest heâd give you another rough thrush while whispering the most vulgar sentences to come out of his mouth.
â đđđđđ đđđđđđ âŽ
Ò COCKWARMING !
â sometimes being weeks apart from each other you wanted to feel as close as possible while catching up on what youâd miss. youâd get settled on his lap moaning at the feeling of him stretching you after being gone for so long. youâd get comfortable and you would both talk about what you had been up to the last few weeks
â streaming with max youâd make sure his camera was off before you climbed on his lap. he would be confused as to what you were doing but the moment you take his cock out of his briefs and sinking down on him heâd hold his moans in and grab your waist pulling you closer.
- turning his mic off he lets out a whine when you rock your hips against him, âfuck, baby, canât do this right now iâm so close to winning.â youâd agree with him and tell him to finish the game youâll just wait for him; still sitting on him with his cock deep inside you. safe to say he lost the game just to play again, enjoying the feeling of his cock resting inside you
Ò SHOWER SEX !
â lando loved it when heâd be showering and youâd join him halfway through giving him some extra attention that he desperately wanted. he loved the intimacy about it when youâd help rinse of the shampoo in his hair or how heâd glide the body gel all over your body
â you loved it when it was a post race win or podium and heâd drag you to the small bathroom in his drivers room and shove you against the shower wall giving your pussy some extra love while you pull on his hair before he would have his cock shoved deep in your aching cunt, getting some loud moans out of you which heâd cover up with a kiss
â đđđđđ đđđđđđđđ âŽâŽ
Ò PHONE SEX !
â being a formula 1 driver was a demanding job which required lewis to travel almost all year long and you couldnât always go along with him due to your job. you missed him all the time when he was gone but especially on the days when you were extra needy were the worst
â thatâs why heâd stay on the phone with you all day despite his busy schedule. heâd have one airpod in while having to be in a meeting not listening to the less important subjects so heâd listen to you and what you were doing for the day
â but then on days where your vibrator wasnât enough youâd call or facetime your boyfriend begging him to help you through your orgasm, it also helped that he had the most soothing voice that constantly brought you to tears when heâd have your face shoved on the mattress, ass pressed against him as he fucked you
â âohâŠâm so close, lewâ youâd whimper through the facetime call, your phone propped against your nightstand while you grind your aching cunt against a pillow. desperately needing more release your reach to rub your clit when lewisâ voice fills the phone, âi didnât say you could do that, did i?â he questions, he was due to be in the media pen in 10 minutes but he wouldnât let you take the easy way out to cum before he left
â âplease, baby, need to cum please,â you beg lewis as your movements speed up. âdonât use your hand. keep fucking youself on my pillow, iâll be home in a few days and take such good care of you. thatâs it baby, be a good girl and cum for me.â his encouragement is more than enough to have you squeezing your breasts and nipples as your release spills all over the pillow
Ò MIRROR SEX !ă
â you werenât sure if it was you or lewis who decided adding a mirror to the ceiling of your bedroom was the best option for your sex life but either way you were two happy people
â you enjoyed watching lewis fucking you his eyes meeting your through the mirror; he loved having you bounce on his cock watching the way you threw your head back moans filling the room. he loved it so much he requested his drivers room to have a mirror on the ceiling as well. after many warnings not to they finally gave in and gave him what he (and you) wanted
â his hand around your throat with two fingers deep inside your pussy heâd whisper dirty thoughts into your ear, âyou look so pretty for me like this. wanna see you cum for me, sweet girl. thatâs it youâre squeezing my fingers so good,â youâd bite your lip trying to suppress your moans in the small room knowing anyone walking by could easily hear you
â đđđđđ đđđđđđđ âžÂč
Ò DRY HUMPING !ă
â again, being a formula one driver was a demanding sport. a demanding sport that kept your sex life with oscar very low many, many, many times. so when you had the chance to feel a little bit closer to your boyfriend you took the chance.
â whether against the wall of his drivers room with your clothed pussy rubbing against his race suit or in bed on his lap before ha has to catch a flight to the next race; you were both absolutely infatuated with each other and dry humping
â drivers room; oscar would be leaned up against the wall while your hips grind against his thigh, âosc,â you whine as he moves your panties to the side rubbing your clit while you con the to fuck yourself on him, âshh, be a good girl for me and stay quiet. then after the race iâll stuff you full of my cock all night.â his words have you biting down on his shoulder as you cum all over his thigh
Ò SQUIRTING !ă
â he had discovered this one night while you both watched a movie, laying between his thighs your head pressed against his chest his hand trailed down to your shorts pulling them off with nothing else underneath he worked his fingers inside you. soon enough you had squirted all over his hand and bedsheets; a first for both of you
â that just started something inside oscar which was wanting to make you squirt any chance he got. you could be exhausted from work or a long flight but youâd let him have his way with you. at the end youâd be filling the room with sounds of pleasure as his fingers or cock fucked your tight cunt until he reached the exact spot that had you squirting all over him
â "so wet for me, and so fuckin' tight." "i can feel how close you are baby, gonna make a mess all over our sheets, hmm?" he praises you, his fingers curling deep inside you. his groans and your moans fill the room as you squirt all over his hand and sheets making a mess like he had said. pulling away from you he now plays between your thighs and smiles up at you, âtime to clean this mess up.â
â đ
đđđđđ đđđđđđđđđ âŽÂł
Ò DIRTY TALK !ă
â youâve seen franco in interviews he was a talker so it wasnât a surprised he was a talker behind closed doors as well. he had a filthy mouth on him when it came to you and he never stopped praising you
â âeso es amor, apretĂĄndome tan bien. let me hear your pretty moans.â âcum all over my cock, amor. fuck, fuckâlook so perfect for me.â âgonna let me fuck you against the door? gonna make sir everyone hears what a filthy whore you are.â youâd think by now youâd get tired of his constant yapping (sometimes you did) but when he fucked you? you loved hearing his voice the entire time
Ò ORAL !ă
â the man was good with his tongue what more could you say? he was infatuated with having his tongue on your pussy for hours on end tasting how sweet you were. buried between your thighs as your hand stung on his hair, whines and moans escape your mouth begging him for more
â âfranco, âm so close, right there,â you gasp feeling his tongue poking in your cunt as he devours you, âes todo princesa, dĂ©jalo ir por mĂ. mierda. sabes tan dulce.â you cum and he doesnât let a drop escape his tongue as he licks you clean
â đđđđđđ đđđđđđđđđ Âł [retired]
Ò THIGH RIDING !ă
â the man had a tattooed thighâŠhow could you not want to ride it? it first started on a night out with friends enjoying the sunset at the beach when daniel placed you on his lap your hand traced circles on the tattoos that littered his thigh; one thing led to another and you snuck off to the car and he let your imaginations come to life
â at a club filled with loud music and dark lights youâd take advantage of the moment and grind yourself on his thigh enjoying the feeling, at home while he works on sending out some emails youâd keep him company with your core pressing against his thigh, anyplace and anywhere you were a menace for his thighs
â he loved it too, so much heâd started adding some more tattoos to his collection on his thighs which made you even more excited to ride him only to wait until he was healed to do so. you could ride his other thigh but something about fucking yourself on his tattooed thigh felt so so much more enthralling
â âyou look so pretty like this, ridin' my thigh...makin' yourself cum.â âmake yourself cum on my thigh right now, good girl. feels good, doesn't it?â his encouraging words bringing you to your third orgasm of the night just form riding his thigh, âcome on, honey, gonna give me one more then iâll fuck you for however long you wantâ
Ò FILMING !
â daniel loved having videos or pictures of the activities you got up to in the bedroom with each other. he loved watching the videos while he was away from you weeks on end. however, he loved it more whenever you got the chance to film each other especially for fun not because heâll be gone for a few weeks and needed someone to fill the void
â daniel comfortably laying down between your thighs lapping at you like thereâs no tomorrow, âdanny, feel so goodâŠoh,â you whine trying to hold the camera that was pointed at him steadily but you were so close. âthatâs it baby, cum all over me you taste so fucking sweet. could never get enough of this,â he says only getting a second to breathe before heâs diving back between your thighs to bring you to your second orgasm of the night
â you loved the risk of having an album on your phones that were filled of videos and pictures of the two of you or sometimes of just one of you. youâd created a small album curated for daniel filled of pictures of you in lingerie or fully nude; the videos were another story. filled with you fucking yourself with your fingers, vibrator, a pillow; you made sure daniel was fulfilled for the weeks he wouldnât have you
â daniel made a small photo album for you as well more so filled of the two of you, he knew how much you loved rewatching the videos of you two fucking. you loved the way he propped the camera against the nightstand and had you riding his cock until you begged him to let you cum or the time he fucked you in his drivers room facing the mirror on his door his hands on your breasts squeezing them while you rode him back against his chest holding onto the camera shakily and almost dropping it when heâd thrust up into your cunt
#f1 amour works#max verstappen#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#lando norris#lewis hamilton#oscar piastri#franco colapinto#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#oscar piastri x reader#franco colapinto x reader#max verstappen smut#charles leclerc smut#carlos sainz smut#lewis hamilton smut#franco colapinto smut#lando norris smut#oscar piastri smut#daniel ricciardo smut#f1 grid x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 grid blurbs
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tagging system ââ pope silas callaway
#ââ pope interactionsÂ ïœąthese are the day dreams that keep me cleanïœŁ#ââ pope musingsÂ ïœąif you're weak come to me and find shameful companyïœŁ#ââ pope visageÂ ïœąnot whole and not wholly separate but syncopatedïœŁ#ââ pope mentionedÂ ïœąjust regrettably forgetting to exceed expectationïœŁ#ââ pope tunageÂ ïœąjust betting with my bare bonesïœŁ#ââ pope taskÂ ïœąthe cost of our desired wrongsïœŁ#ââ pope self para ïœąsell me out iâm yesterdayâs old newsïœŁ#ââ pope answered ïœąbut now iâm just making up facts whatâs it matter anymoreïœŁ
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Miguel O'Hara x f!reader smut request
Our dearest Miguel breaks the headboard during sex. That has for sure happened to him once or twice!! At least it's true in my headcanons!
Tell Me How U Feel
âżàžș Paring âłâ„ Miguel OâHara x F!Reader
âżàžș Summary âłâ„ Youâve told him many many times that he must watch his strength whenever it comes to sex. It seems Miguel doesnât like listening.
âżàžș (A/n) âłâ„ Inspired by âTell Me How U Feelâ by Black Dresses. Two posts in one day, especially smutty ones. Thanks for reading!! I used Spanishdict so please let me know if there is anything wrong!!
âżàžș Word Count âłâ„ 430
âżàžș Content Warnings âłâ„ Female reader, p in v, little obsession from Miguel, no prep, fluffy, restraints, hickies, bruisingâŠ..
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
âLas cosas que harĂa por ti.â (The things I would do for you.)
A yelp comes from your lips as you fall back, caught by surprise by the springiness from his bed. You push yourself up on your elbows, you look up at him to see him staring right down at you. The two of you were already nude.
Miguel crawls forward on the bed, he looks over your hickey littered neck and the bruise already forming on your hip. His eyes then came into contact with yours, he stopped when he was on top of you and pushed you back to lay back on the bed.
He takes your arms and moves them upward until your wrists are pushed against the headboard. You can feel the weird substance of Miguelâs webbing retrain your wrists.
His tongue runs over his lips as he grabs your legs, spreading them further. He didnât tease or give any kind of warning, he slammed right into you.
Miguel let out a growl like sound, his pace quickened immediately which earned more and loud moans from you.
âQuiero todo de ti.â (I want all of you.) Miguel hissed, his hands moving to clutch the headboard as he slammed right into you, over and over again. You can hear the headboard slamming against the wall.
âTe quiero solo para mi.â (I want you to myself only.)
Thatâs when you heard the crack and your arms fall from the headboard, it makes Miguel stop his moment and click his tongue in annoyance.
âDammit, Miguel!â You groan, âI just bought this frame!â You look at the damage, carefully moving away from the splinters and broken pieces of the wood, âSeriously?â
âYou shouldâve bought a better frame.â
âI shouldnât be buying more frames if someone could watch their strength.â You retort, âUntie me.â You sit up and push your tied wrist to him.
He grabs your wrists, âNo puedo controlarme cuando estoy contigo.â (I canât control myself when Iâm with you.) He uses his claws to pry off the webbing.
âGreat! Now I have to get a new frame.â You get up from bed and gather your clothes.
âWhere are you going?â Miguel asked, grabbing his clothes and putting them on when heâs following you out the door.
You manage to put on your clothes, âTo buy a new frame.â You grab your keys and put on your shoes.
âCanât that wait?â But Miguel doesnât follow you when he steps out the door.
âNo.â And you shut the door, off to buy a new frame. You leave Miguel feeling frustrated.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#miguel o'hara#miguel oâhara#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel oâhara x reader#spiderman 2099#spider man 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel oâhara smut#miguel angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel oâhara angst#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x you#spider man smut#spiderman smut#spiderman x reader#spiderman#smut
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I hope you donât mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.
Iâm talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isnât private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them
I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! đ
omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sureâ
you have more than just your family interested in taking you.
major spoilers below the cut. â an excerpt from chapter xx
(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.
you are a product of a one-night-stand.
but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.
your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.
you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.
it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.
the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.
after all, your freedom is your doom.
maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.
connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice youâ that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.
if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.
the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.
#đš... yael's talking#đ·... yael's works#series: again & again#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere batboys#yandere connor kent#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#platonic yandere#yandere conner kent
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Can you please do little reader is daughter of someone and alll the drivers absolutely adore her always carrying her away and cuddling her, taking her off the parent
Enjoy reading and send some requests!
Let me know if you want more Yn Alonso stories.
-xoxo, Babygirl đ
The Princess of Formula 1
The paddock was buzzing with its usual pre-race energy, and while everyone was used to seeing drivers, engineers, and media rushing around, today there was an extra special guest who caught everyoneâs eyeâFernando's three-year-old daughter, Yn. She toddled alongside her father, holding his hand tightly, her eyes wide with wonder at all the noise and colors. She was dressed in a mini Aston Martin team shirt, a green cap, and tiny sneakers that made her look absolutely adorable.
Fernando walked confidently with Yn, making his way toward the Aston Martin garage. As he approached, a couple of drivers immediately spotted the little girl and couldn't help but gravitate towards her.
âHey there, Yn!â Lando exclaimed, squatting down to her level with a huge grin on his face. He reached out a hand, and Yn, curious and already warming up to the friendly face, placed her tiny hand in his.
âHola, Lando!â Fernando chuckled, ruffling Ynâs hair. âI didnât expect her to be the center of attention so quickly.â
Landoâs eyes sparkled with amusement. âOh, come on, Fernando. Sheâs much cuter than you! Mind if I borrow her for a bit?â
Fernando raised an eyebrow. âAs long as you give her back.â
Lando scooped Yn up and spun her around, eliciting a squeal of delight from the little girl. âLetâs go find something fun to do, yeah?â he said, bouncing her playfully in his arms.
Carlos wandered over, curious about what the commotion was about. âWhatâs going on?â he asked, noticing Yn giggling in Landoâs arms.
âSheâs playing with Lando now,â Fernando said, shaking his head with a fond smile. âHe just took her.â
Carlos chuckled and approached Yn, switching to Spanish. âHola, pequeñita. ÂżTe estĂĄs divirtiendo?â
Yn looked at him with wide eyes, understanding her father's language better. âSĂ!â she replied eagerly.
âWeâre going to play dolls,â Lando said, holding up a small stuffed bear he had found in the McLaren hospitality area. âWell, Yn is, and Iâll just be doing whatever she tells me to do.â
âDolls, eh?â Carlos grinned. âLando, do you even know what sheâs saying? She might just order you to give her all your snacks.â He winked at Yn. âÂżQuieres que le quite las galletas a Lando para ti?â
Yn giggled and nodded. âSĂ, quiero!â
Lando feigned a look of shock. âHey! No fair! I didnât agree to this!â He glanced at Carlos. âOkay, fine, youâre on doll duty too, Señor Translator.â
Carlos sat down next to them, carefully listening to Ynâs instructions as she showed Lando how to make the bear dance. âShe says the bear wants a snack, Lando,â Carlos translated with a teasing grin.
âOf course, he does,â Lando said, âFine, weâll go find some cookies.â Yn clapped her hands in delight as Carlos took her hand and led her toward the hospitality area.
Not far away, Charles was observing the scene with amusement. When Yn spotted him, her eyes lit up at the sight of a friendly face she recognized. âChaCha!â she called out, reaching her little arms toward him.
âBonjour, princesse,â Charles said warmly, swooping in to take her from Carlosâs arms. âAre you having fun with these silly boys?â
Yn giggled and nodded. âIce cream?â she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
âHow can I say no to that face?â Charles laughed. âLetâs get you some ice cream.â
Moments later, they were sitting together, Charles feeding Yn small spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream while she giggled between bites. âJust like a princess,â Charles said, wiping a tiny spot of ice cream from her cheek with a napkin. âBut donât tell your papa how much I spoiled you, okay?â
Yn gave a serious nod as if making a grand promise. âSecret!â
Not long after, Lewis wandered by and saw Yn with Charles. âWhatâs all this, then?â he asked, flashing a smile. âCharlie, youâre spoiling her already?â
âI couldnât resist,â Charles said with a shrug. âSheâs too cute.â
Ynâs attention was already on Lewis, recognizing him from the many times her dad had spoken about him. âLewie!â she cried out, reaching her arms toward him.
âWell, if the little princess requests,â Lewis said as he picked Yn up and settled her on his hip. âHow about we go watch a movie? Iâve got âCocoâ ready on my iPad, and itâs in Spanish.â Yn's eyes widened with delight at the mention of a Disney movie.
Yn cuddled up against Lewis as he found a quiet spot in the Mercedes hospitality area. She rested her head on his shoulder while they watched âCoco,â with Lewis occasionally glancing down to make sure she was still enjoying it. Her little face lit up at the familiar songs, and she clapped her hands to the beat.
Across the paddock, Max was adjusting his Red Bull cap when he noticed Yn trotting around after the movie with Lewis, now searching for her dad. Max crouched down, holding his cap out toward her. âHey, Yn, want to try on my cap?â
Yn nodded enthusiastically, and Max placed the oversized Red Bull cap on her head. It nearly swallowed her whole, and she laughed, trying to peer out from under the brim. âToo big!â she giggled.
âYeah, itâs a bit big for you, isnât it?â Max chuckled, flipping the brim up so she could see. âBut you look pretty cool, Iâd say.â
As Yn wandered around with the cap, Fernando was finally doing an interview, holding his daughter on his hip as she played with the brim of Maxâs hat.
âAnd how do you balance being a driver and a dad, Fernando?â the reporter asked, nodding toward Yn.
Fernando glanced down at Yn, who was fiddling with the microphone cord. âItâs all about priorities,â he said with a smile. âToday, my priority is making sure she has a good time.â
Just then, George strolled by, clearly amused by the sight of Fernando multitasking with his daughter. Without a word, George reached over, scooped Yn right out of Fernandoâs arms, and continued walking away, casually chatting with her as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Fernando blinked, completely taken aback. âDid he justâŠtake my daughter away?â
The reporter laughed. âIt seems like George has a new fan.â
Fernando shook his head with a chuckle, watching as George carried Yn toward the Mercedes garage. George held Yn up, letting her "fly" like an airplane, which elicited more giggles from her.
As the day began to wind down, the paddock was slowly emptying, and Fernando started looking around for Yn, wondering where she had wandered off to this time. Just as he was about to ask someone, he saw Checo walking toward him, gently cradling a sleeping Yn in his arms. Her head rested on Checo's shoulder, her small fists curled around the fabric of his racing suit.
âI found her napping in the hospitality area,â Checo said softly, handing Yn over to Fernando. âFigured youâd want her back.â
Fernando took Yn into his arms with a grateful smile. âThanks, Checo. Sheâs had quite a day.â
Checo grinned. âSheâs been all over the paddockâthink sheâs the real star of the show.â
Fernando chuckled, looking down at his sleeping daughter. âYouâre right, she stole the show today.â He kissed Ynâs forehead, feeling a sense of peace and happiness as he held her close.
As the sun began to set over the paddock, Fernando walked out with Yn in his arms, thankful to have his little girl back and ready to head home.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl đ#fernando alonso x reader#lando norris x reader#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x reader#george russell x reader#sergio perez x reader#alonso!reader#formula 1 x female reader#f1 x reader
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WHAT'S GOING ON IN SPAIN AND HOW YOU CAN HELP even if you live in a different country
Please read!!
Since October 29, Spain has been going through one of the worst flash floods of this century. The Community of Valencia has been the most affected, but the cold drop also passed through the south-west and is moving now to the north-east.
So far, 211 bodies have been found, and more than 2000 people are still missing. Most fatalities are from Valencia, entire towns are ravaged and isolated as they don't have electricity and the roads have been destroyed. A lot of people has lost their home, more than 15k homes don't have eletricity and they are in need of food, water and hygienic products
The reason Valencia was the most affected is because, despite given a warning 5 days before from the AEMET (Spain's official meteorological agency) of the possible mass floodings due to the cold drop, and the same morning of the catastrophe, it's authorities didn't warn it's people. Valencia's government waited 12h after the last warning from the AEMET (and it's president even said it would subside 2h before the floodings) before declaring the red alert, at 8pm. By then, many people was already caught in the flood while going or coming back from work.
Although politicians must be accountable, our priority is to help those in need, most which have lost their house, belongings and means to live. Because of this, here are some fundraisers and non-profits you can donate to help both people and animals that have been affected (these are from the thread I've just posted, but I'll add more if I find them!):
Horta Sud is a county in Valencia that has been the most affected by the floodings. People are leaving their houses because they're scared of the infrastructure getting damaged and even walking by foot to Valencia capital to get food.
Letur (Albacete) is a town that has been destroyed by the floods. You can help rebuild it by donating to this gofundme that's directly coordinated with the town hall.
Hambre Cero is a Spanish food bank non-profit that was founded after the earthquakes in Indonesia. They're currently active in Palestine and Lebanon but they'll also be giving food to those who need it in Spain.
El Refugio de MarĂa a dog shelter in Sueca (Valencia), is completely flooded, leaving the dogs visibly distressed and without a proper place to sleep. You can donate to their PayPal: [email protected]
Protectora San AntĂłn is a shelter for cats and dogs in Jerez de la Frontera. It's flooded and the animals don't have a comfortable place to sleep in. If you live in Spain you can bizum them @ 635011715 If not, PayPal [email protected]
Help Sara and her family rebuild their home in Valencia.
Refugio Minipow was home to 50 rabbits and guinea pigs. Thankfully, the owners were able to move all the animals to their homes and those of their neighbors, though the shelter itself has been destroyed right after recent renovations. They accept help through PayPal, Bizum or a transference to their bank account.
Una copa por Valencia ("a drink to Valencia") is a campaign organized by Spanish influencer David Aliagas. The idea behind it is to donate the amount of money you would spend on drinks on a night out. He'll be joining effort with local non-profits.
Help the people of Mira (Cuenca) rebuild their hometown.
This group of artists is giving away drawings to people who donate at least 5⏠to any of the fundraisers listed in the thread!!!
You can donate to Valencia's food bank by making a transfer to this bank account: ES86 2100 2806 6402 0009 8998
Thread of artists that are accepting comissions for Valencia:
This artist has been directed by the floodings. He just opened emergency comissions
I'll add more fundraising campaigns I find on Twitter/Bluesky, but until then, please consider helping in any way you can! Even if it's just by sharing!
#valencia#españa#spain#dana#climate crisis#there's a lot of skilled artist accepting commissions to help the victims#and some of them are even affected directly by the floodings#please at least take a look!#i'm posting these here bc this is the place where i have more followers#but i'm also sharing them on twitter and bluesky#if you can share this info in other social media i'll be more than grateful
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Somethinâ Soft for someone Tough.
Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
âLet me stitch you up, Miles.â
i â€ïž miles and he is so bf uhuh (iâm insane put me in a cell)
also heâs soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT
warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesnât know what the hell theyâre doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times
I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)
â
Miles didnât understand your hurt. He didnât understand why you hated him being the Prowlerâ, didnât understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..
-Profession.
It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. Heâd already lost enough, he canât lose you. He wonât. You just didnât get that.
Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasnât.
He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.
So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.
And he didnât try to understand why.
â
It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.
Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.
It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).
Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.
Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.
Assuring you he was nothing but careful,â
âMami, Âżpor quĂ© iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.â
"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."
A bashful murmur of âJust be more careful.â Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Milesâ bed awaiting his return thatâs seemingly taking years.
A crash outside your (boyfriendsâ) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.
The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Milesâ stumbling body from toppling through.
A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.
âHey, mami.â
Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.
âMiles, what happened?â Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.
âI tripped.â
You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.
âCâmon, baby, come inside.â Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didnât catch it.
Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.
He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.
You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.
He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasnât one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.
âNo estĂĄ tan mal, ma.â
"It's not so bad, ma."
His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.
His boxers,â
â,his hand twitched.
âNot that bad?â Your hushed voice bled of concern. âThereâs a gash in your side!â
The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.
You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.
You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. âAmor, Itâs just aââ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.
âNo digas que es sĂłlo un corte.â
"Don't say it's just a cut."
âMi sol, I have suffered worse.â
âLet me stitch you up, Miles.â
You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume youâd need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.
âYou look good like this, mami.â
You choked slightly, glaring up at him.
âTake off your jacket, Morales.â
"Sabes, si querĂas que me desnudara..."
"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."
âOne more word.â
âUnderstood.â
He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.
It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.
âWhat were you cut with, Papi?â
His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.
âA knife, probably.â
Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.
âFigures.â
You hid your smile.
He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.
âMami, entiendo que estĂ©s enojada, but please be gentle.â
"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."
He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.
âI am gentle.â
âSure.â
You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.
The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.
âThere, all done.â
âNot gonna kiss it better?â
You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.
Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.
âLay down, baby.â
He whispered your name, âChiquita, you take such good care of me.â
Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.
âGonâ spoil you after this.â
You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.
âYou already spoil me, Papi.â
Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.
ââSâcause you deserve it.â
He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.
You giggled, âNeed help, baby?â He scoffed lightheartedly. âI got it.â
âMhm.â He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.
âCâmere mami.â He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. âMmââ âShh, it donât hurt.â You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.
The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.
âItâs hot baby, weâre gonna get all sweaty.â
âHopefully.â
âMiles.â
You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. âMm, there. Now youâre all better.â
He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.
He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and heâd already had a running start.
He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers youâd created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.
Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.
âMuch.â
He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.
It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.
â
first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again
as angst is all iâm good for
i literally donât know how to write fluff so pray it was good
IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME
#miles morales x reader#miles morales#earth 42#across the spiderverse#miles x reader#across the spider verse spoilers#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales
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hii i love your fics so much! i was wondering if you could do a latina!reader x charles fic were reader is asking charles juicy questions fans sent in or him guessing female products? i hope this make sense â€ïž
I think I get it. Iâm going to make Y/N like Kika, she has a heavy social media presence but is also a model.
Grill the Boyfriend
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina!Reader
Summary: Charles fans have questions and Y/N will give them the answers
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, a few +18 questions
A/N: sorry it took me so long, this was written on my phone
Y/N was setting up the camera and ring light in the living room so her new video would turn out well.
âMuñeco, are you ready?â Y/N asked,
âIâm coming!â Charles called out from his room before coming into the living room with a black shirt and gray sweatpants. âDo we have to film this today?â
âWe donât have to, but I want to get it out of the way.â Y/N said. Both sat down on the couch and Y/N clicked a button so it could record. âHola, mis amores, if youâre new here, my name is Y/N and welcome to a new video. Today we are here with my boyfriend, the beautiful monegasque man whoâs face card never declines, Scuderia Ferrari F1 driver Charles Leclerc.â
âHello, everyone.â Charles waves hi to the camera.
âSo all of you have sent me your questions on Instagram, and today we are going to be asking them, how are you feeling, muñeco?â Y/N asked.
âA little nervous.â Charles said
âWe will start with an easy question, who is your celebrity crush?â Y/N asked.
âYou are.â Charles said.
âAw, thatâs sweet. Mine is (your celebrity crush) actually.â Y/N said and Charles was offended.
âThatâs how you want to play it? I change my answer, my celebrity crush is Camila Morrone.â Charles said.
âOh my gosh, Charles, sheâs my friend, you are never beating the homie hopper allegations now.â Y/N said and shook his head.
âNext question, please, before you give me a migraine.â Charles said.
âVery well, what is your favorite MĂ„neskin song?â Y/N asked.
âMm, i like zitti e buoni, mamma mia is very good too. Zitti e buoni is my favorite.â Charles said.
âOf course it is, there are so many edits of you to that song. I like supermodel and baby said, which is also used in your edits.â Y/N said.
âYou watch edits of me, Mon coeur?â Charles asked.
âNext question!â Y/N exclaimed and Charles laughed at her abruptness. âBesides wiener dogs, what is your favorite breed?â
âI like all dogs honestly, I donât have a favorite breed, but I always wanted a golden retriever.â Charles said
âThatâs because you are a golden retriever boyfriend. I always wanted a Saint Bernard.â Y/N said.
âThatâs because you loved Beethoven as a kid.â Charles said.
âI still love Beethoven, such a cute movie. Anyway, next question, if we broke up, would you try to date one of my friends?â Y/N asked and Charles covered his face.
âNo I wouldnât, all of your friends are in the states.â Charles said.
âSo if one of them came here, would you go out with her if we broke up?â Y/N asked.
âOf course not! I would be trying to win you back.â Charles said.
âOkay then, do you think the car has gotten worse since Monaco?â Y/N asked. Charles paused for a moment
âLegally I canât confirm or deny that statement. I think there are strategies that the team are implementing that only work in theory but not in practice and thatâs causing poor results in races.â Charles said
âWhat a diplomatic answer, Mr. Leclerc. Based on your recent grill the grid video, have you ever thought about standing me up when we were first talking?â Y/N asked.
âNo I did not think about standing you up at all.â Charles said.
âMĂĄs te vale, eh. Okay, this question is in Spanish, has pensado en tener una fiesta de despedida para Carlitos? Have you thought about throwing a goodbye party for Carlos since itâs his last Ferrari season?â Y/N translated the question to English.
âYes, at the Ferrari garage, weâve already started planning.â Charles answered
âSi, en el garaje de Ferrari, ya estĂĄn planeando todo para Carlitos.â Y/N translated in Spanish. âNext question, do you like my cooking?â
âThereâs no way they asked that.â Charles stated but Y/N showed him the Instagram inbox with the questions. âDoes Charles like your cookingâ Charles read. âI do like her cooking, she tries to make her cultural dishes fit into my diet and I appreciate that.â
âThank you, muñeco.â Y/N kissed him. âWhat is your favorite sex position?â
âWhy?â Charles asked facing Y/N. âWhy do you need to know?â Charles asked facing the camera.
âTheyâve asked this multiple times, the world wants to know.â Y/N said.
âFine, I like Cowgirl, I like it when she rides me, I also like reverse cowgirl and doggy because I like seeing Y/Nâs tattoo of my driver number.â Charles explained in detail and Y/N covered her face.
âLike Haley from One Tree Hill, anyway, what is one of your kinks?â Y/N asked.
âI like choking, hair pulling, being called sir.â Charles said.
âThere will be no demonstrations. Craziest place you had sex?â Y/N asked.
âOn the yacht.â Charles answered easily.
âI find it concerning how comfortable you are answering these types of questions.â Y/N commented. âMoving on, have you ever thought about marriage?â
âI have thought about getting married someday, having a family, 3 children like my mom did, a nice family dog.â Charles said.
âIâve also thought about it, I think most women have Pinterest boards of wedding dresses, rings, centerpieces, shit like that.â Y/N commented. âHave you thought about moving away from Monaco?â
âI like Monaco, my family is here, I donât think I can love somewhere else.â Charles said.
âHave you ever read fanfics about yourself?â Y/N asked.
âIm sorry, what?â Charles asked.
âFan fiction, have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?â Y/N asked again.
âNo I havenât, but I admire the creativity all of you have.â Charles said.
âI have read fanfics about you.â Y/N admitted to Charles. âThey are really well written on tumblr, you know.â
âWhy read about me when you have the real thing, Mon coeur?â Charles asked
âBecause I have trouble sleeping and I need something to read.â Y/N said. A few questions later, we are in the last question. âAre you excited for Lewis to join Ferrari?â
âOf course I am! We have talked a lot off the track, we are very good friends, I canât wait for him to join Ferrari.â Charles said.
âAnd thatâs it for this video, hope yâall liked it, make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. For more content, follow me on TikTok and Instagram, besitos.â Y/N said and stopped the recording. âPerfect! I just need to edit it and I can post it later. Thank you for being a good sport, muñeco.â Y/N said, kissing Charles.
âOf course, Mon coeur, anything for you. Now what were you saying about someone else being your celebrity crush?â Charles asked.
âWell they are my celebrity crush, you were my celebrity crush but now Iâm dating you.â Y/N said. âYou really think about marriage and having a family?â
âWhenever I picture myself having a family, you are right there.â Charles said, they shared a loving kiss. âYou want to head out in the yacht today?â
âI would love to.â Y/N said.
The End
hope yâall liked it!
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine
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ౚৠâ§Ë
đđ„ đđ«đđđš (đđĄđ đđđđ„) â đđ«đđ§đŹđ„đđđđ đŠđđŹđŹ
miguel oâhara x fem!reader. 3.2k words
fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part
angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) â you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, youâre leftâŠwellâŠshocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state youâve never seen him in before.
You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.
You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasnât top notch youâre sure heâll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.
You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.
He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. âY/n. How are you?â
You smile. âGoodâŠyeah, no Iâm good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?â
âOh.â He spins. âI swear I saw him over there.â He points in a random direction. ââŠnow heâs gone. Maybe with Gwen.â He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.
âWell, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.â
âTranslation? To what language?â Pav asks.
âFrom Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.â
âAhâŠwait, but doesnât Miguel fully speak it?â Pav pauses. âYeah, heâd know a lot more than Miles.â
You nod. âHe just wonât tell me.â You mutter under your breath.
âWhat was that?â Pav asks, brows furrowed.
You look back up. âMiguelâs just kind of busy right now.â You had no idea if he was or not. âAnd so I thought Miles might be free.â
âI see.â Pav nods. âCome on, Iâll help you find him.â Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.
âMiles!â Pav called out to nowhere in particular. âMiles!?â
âIs yelling his name really gonna help?â Your brows furrow.
âI like to think yelling will conjure up the whole âspider-senseâ thing.â Pav says, still gazing around. âWait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.â
You chuckle, looking around. And thatâs when you spot Miles and Gwen. âMiles!â You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.
Miles turns, and copies your smile. âY/n, hey.â
âOkay look, Iâm sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?â You ask, hopeful.
Miles tilts his head slightly. âYeah, sure. As long as it isnât French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I donât know.â
Your smile widens. âNo, no. None of those. Itâs just Spanish.â
âOh.â Miles stands straighter. âIâll warn you I donât know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.â
âThank you.â You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.
âOkay, so itâs two sentences.â You begin. Miles nods. âThe first one isâŠâMe encantarĂa usarâŠtu cama para otrasâŠcosasâ.â You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.
When you look back to Miles, heâs staring at you blinking. You stare back. âWhat?â You ask.
âUm.â He scratches the back of his head. âIâm probably hearing it wrong.â He mutters to himself before heâs looking back to an expectant you.
âWhat was the second one?â He asks, a little more curious this time.
âUhâŠâÂżNo crees queâŠme verĂa bonita atrapada entreâŠtus sĂĄbanas?ââ
Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. âWhat does it mean?â
He coughs. âWho said that to you?â
âOh, no I said it to someone.â You answer. âWell, they asked me to say itâŠâ
âYou said it someoneâŠâ he drifts off, slightly gulping.
âWhat? Is itâŠbad?â Your brows are further furrowed. âCome on, Miles, please. Iâve been dying to know what it means all of last night.â
âWell, the first oneâŠit means âIâd love to use your bed for other thingsâ.â He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you donât catch it right.
âWhat?â
âAnd the second one means âdonât you think Iâd look pretty trapped in your sheets?â.â Milesâ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.
This time youâre staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. âWhat?â You repeat stupidly. That canât be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bedâŠ
Now you werenât dumb you were justâŠin shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.
Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadnât realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.
Then there was the touches on your chinâŠ
At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something heâd do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasnât grabbing Peterâs face like that, he wasnât leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.
Now youâve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. âUm.â You nod. You donât know why youâre nodding. You just need to do something that isnât stare off into space.
âWho, um, asked you to say that?â Gwen asks.
You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.
âOh, uh, nobody.â You didnât really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasnât even something. It wasnâtâŠright?
But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did MiguelâŠ? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. ThoughâŠpart of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.
You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. Itâs as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is wellâŠMiguel.
;;
âWhat was that about?â Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.
Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. âYeahâŠnah, thatâs right.â He mutters. âMy translations right.â
âWho asked herââ
âAsked who what?â Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.
âY/n.â Gwen says. âShe asked Miles to translate something for her.â
âSee, I knew this guy would be helpful.â Hobie slightly shakes Milesâ shoulders.
âI think someone has a crush on y/n.â Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.
âWho?â Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.
Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadnât seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didnât pay that much attention to peopleâs gazes, and Miles was wellâŠnew. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldnât believe how oblivious they were.
Hobie began to figure out Miguelâs little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadnât needed Hobie.
And when Miguelâs jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.
âCome on, you lot.â Hobie says staring at them. âTell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?â
Gwen looks down, thinking. âMiguel.â
Hobie nods. âUh huh.â He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. âOh bloody hell, you lot are thick.â
âOhâŠâ Pav mutters. âOh!â He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.
âThank anarchy.â He mutters, thankful one person caught on.
âMiguel likes y/n?!â Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.
âItâd seem so.â Hobie smirks.
;;
Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to sayâand having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shockâyou've arrived back to sweaty palms.
You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fractionâyour nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.
Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.
Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of âa messâ.
"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.
You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"
"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.
"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.
Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to sayâŠgo."
Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.
Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.
"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotionsâstress, anxiety,...fear?
Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.
You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.
"Are you...okay?"
Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.
You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."
Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.
"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.
And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.
"Miguel, where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.
"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"
"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.
But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."
"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."
"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.
"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.
"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.
"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.
"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softenedâa broken one.
You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"
You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.
But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?
Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.
Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesnât know what to do. He doesnât know if he should do what heâs thinking.
But then youâre slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he canât have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.
Your breathing hitches as Miguelâs breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.
No. He had told himself he wouldnât think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say âshut the hell upâ.
You could feel Miguelâs entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.
For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that âthis was what has to be doneâ and that âno, you canât get distractedâ.
Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.
You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didnât let your waist go. You stopped those voices and heâd be damned if he let you step away from his body now.
Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguelâs fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.
âIâmâŠâ You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. âSorryâŠI probably shouldnât have hugged you.â You could practically taste his breath.
âYeahâŠyou probably shouldnât have.â His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.
Theyâre dryâof course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldnât see your blushing cheeks.
âIâm sorry that I justâŠsorta came in.â You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didnât seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the oneâs in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.
Well maybe the second smartest choice⊠He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from âhow much more could he takeâ to âhow much moreâŠmoreâŠmoreâ. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.
In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.
âA-and I probably shouldnât have assumed all that stuffâŠâ you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. Itâs safe to say your were flustered.
âI think you did alright.â He partially whispered.
âWellâŠyouâre not throwing a chair..so..â Stupid, stupid, stupidâyou think to yourself. âI meanâŠâ
And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him lookâŠhappy?
âCareful.â You say. âYou look like youâre expressing a âsparkly emotionâ.â
âOh no.â His grin doesnât fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. âWe wouldnât want thatâŠwould we?â
You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. ââŠcute.â
You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.
But what he didnât know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word âcuteâ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.
Iâm sorry this oneâs kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before theyâŠwellâŠyâknow.
at this point Iâve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next partâŠmhmâŠFINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS
plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are â i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff
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