#the walking desd

[literallygwenandjinx]

I CANT GET THE SONGS FROM THE HEATHERS MUSICAL OUT OF MY HEAD PLEASE THEYVE ALL BEEN PLAYING ON REPEAT IN MY MIND FOR THE LAST 2 OR 3 WEEKS I CANT FOCUS ON ANYTHJNG HELP HELP HEPL IM GOINGN CRAZY

[juliu5cissor]

this part literally pulled out an “oh my god…”

[elijones94]

¡Buenas noches desde Aguada!

[darylscigarettesmoke]

I don’t agree with the last point since that’s just not my cup of tea and their relationship is pretty clear to me respectfully BUT with everything else pretty much.

The more time passes and the more I think about it, the less it makes sense to me that we have three spin-offs, two of them ongoing, and no spin-off seems to have plans of progressing the twd-universe further or bringing back the band together.

I know many Carol and Daryl stans roll their eyes when people complain about Rick not getting mentioned in TBOC, but it makes no sense that they seperate the spin-offs from the main show to that extent.

Rick is a core piece for Daryl’s character development, he shaped Daryl unlike anybody else. But the show just forgets that and presents a Daryl who just apparently happens to not care anymore. Who doesn’t even ask Carol about anything that happend at home.

The flagship-Daryl spent more than half a decade (!!) looking for Rick. Judith told him that Rick is still alive right before he left and got kidnapped to France. He could’ve at least asked Carol about him? If they found more clues, if he showed up? It just needed one simple line, one callback to the flagship-show, one little quote to show it’s still the same Daryl we’re talking about. But the spin-off chooses to ignore the back story plus the core traits of its main characters.

And, before anyone rolls their eyes too hard because of the Rick-thing: It’s not just about Rick. Spin-offs which completely sever ties to their flagship-show are not spin-offs, they’re fanfiction.

They should just wrap it up by now. Get the band back together, give the core-TWD-fangroup a statisfying ending with Rick, Daryl and the rest and start over with new characters. But the complete lack of coherence is insulting.

5 Ways The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon can improve in season 3 Dawn Glen6 hours ago

When The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon - The Book of Carol (the second season of The Walking Dead spinoff) previewed at SDCC last July, it was announced that a third season had been commissioned and would be set in Spain, all before season 2 had even aired. AMC clearly had such faith in the show that it was willing to commit to the third season without gauging the reaction to the second. Unfortunately, while some aspects of The Book of Carol received universal praise — largely the return of Melissa McBride as one-woman-cyclone Carol — the overall reviews for the show were mixed, and ratings were far from stellar.

It follows, then, that AMC will be looking closely at the show and potentially reconfiguring and reacting to the criticism. Star and executive producer Norman Reedus has repeatedly spoken about how the original idea for the show was a roadshow with Carol and Daryl travelling around and helping people they meet before moving on. He has also said that season 3 will be closer to this initial idea, with showrunner David Zabel labelling the series “an anthology of sorts.”

With the show moving on from France, it has a clean slate. What else should the show be looking to change in order to improve and garner greater audience positivity going forward, making it the solid hit it could be?

1) No more children

On The Walking Dead, Carol and Daryl occasionally found themselves taking on surrogate children, to varying degrees of success. Carol infamously suffered tremendously after losing her biological child Sophia and also took on some of her own: Mika and Lizzie at the prison, and Henry, the son she shared with Ezekiel. Every one of those children died in a hugely traumatic way, scarring Carol irreparably. And though it has made her guarded and — as some may see it — harsh in her interactions with children, still youngsters are thrust upon her, twisting the knife in her child-shaped wound, as she lives in constant terror of failing them.

As for Daryl, he's part a part of Rick's daughter Judith’s life since birth, giving her the nickname Little Ass Kicker. He’s also bonded with Beth, Lydia, and become a surrogate father for Judith and her little brother RJ after Rick’s disappearance. Then there's Laurent, the proto-Messiah who was the centre of the first two seasons of the show, and the reason Daryl stayed in France.

By now, we get it. Carol is drawn to but scared of kids. Daryl sees himself in every abandoned child, which triggers his hero complex. They want to save every kid, but we’ve been through every iteration of it. We've experienced every kind of parent/child relationship with Carol and Daryl. Anymore would be a retread. Let the title of The Book of Carol’s finale stay true: "Au Revoir les Enfants," which translates to, "Goodbye Children.” Let Carol heal and Daryl grow, without thrusting another child under their wings.

2) Make walkers the central threat

When the French location for the spinoff was announced, many fans were looking forward to exploring the origins of the zombie virus, thanks to the Fear the Walking Dead coda which showed French scientists discussing the virus. In the end, this topic was not touched on at all in Daryl Dixon. We saw Genet doing experiments on walkers, leading to some of the walker variations and the super-charged walkers who dominated the second season, but not the genesis of the French walker research.

As disappointing as that was for some, even if we give up hope of finding out the origins of the walkers, it doesn't mean we should give up on the idea of walkers being more central to the plot. The first two season of The Walking Dead were undoubtedly had the most terrifying, heart-in-mouth episodes of the show, and they didn't feature any overreaching, human threat. While “humans are the real enemy” is a sound premise, we have worn through every variation of evil megalomaniac, religious zealot, and misguided weakling leader storyline in the flagship show. Perhaps it’s time to return to something more primitive, with a focus on the brutality of basic survival?

It would be an ideal use of the brand new locations to highlight that when you have no knowledge of the terrain or facilities round the corner, your life is even more on the line than it would be in the well-trodden woods of Georgia. What if the lake you wash in has hundreds of walkers resting on the bottom? What if the hill you are standing on is actually a mound of walkers overgrown with grass? Making walkers an environmental hazard and focusing on the unpredictability of encountering them when you least expect it heightens the jeopardy for even seasoned walker hunters like Carol and Daryl.

3) Bring back the real Daryl Dixon

The biggest issue The Book of Carol had is that it seemed to forget why it’s title character is such a fan favourite. A man who has been defined by his loyalty and tenacity in the 11 seasons of the main show suddenly lost those qualities and became a shadow of the fan favourite he was. Having Daryl Dixon — who lived in the woods for six years, refusing to give up hope of finding Rick; who withheld Negan’s torture and abuse; who showed no interest in romance in 10 seasons, preferring to focus on his found family — emotionally abandon his American family and consider staying with a new French one in a matter of weeks is wildly out of character.

And it’s not surprising given that showrunner Zabel and Reedus could not seem to agree on Daryl’s motivation, with Reedus resisting the idea that Daryl had felt love for the French characters. Was Daryl resentful that Laurent showed up on the beach in the season 1 finale, or was it an active choice he made to choose Laurent and Isabelle as his family? The answer changes depending who you ask, and when. The Daryl that fans know and love would not reconsider where he belonged and who he loved after such a short time away. He wouldn't be saying that his connection to Laurent is more significant and "different" to his connection to Judith, who he has lived with for 12 years. Nor would he embark on a romantic relationship with a nun he barely knew (and who compared him to his abusive father), after a matter of weeks.

A cohesion must be found with the creatives on who Daryl is and what motivates him. He is — and should be — the man who will always put others needs before his own. But he is also a man who never, ever forgets who he is and what he stands for. Season 3 needs to embrace the Daryl fans remember and show that he remembers his family back home.

4) Embrace the show's history

One of the most successful aspects of The Book of Carol was the exploration of Carol’s grief over the loss of her daughter Sophia. It was rewarding for long-time fans to see the call backs to this pivotal moment, and emotional to see Carol be allowed to work through it on screen.

One of the issues with the later seasons of The Walking Dead was the large cast, which meant huge impactful emotional stories often got pushed aside to deal with the next big event or action-packed twist. Daryl Dixon’s smaller cast means that imbalance can be righted, and allows room for greater intimacy between the audience and the two leads. It is an excellent opportunity for the audience to be allowed to truly sit with Carol and Daryl as they grow through life. They have a chance to stop, breathe and talk through the many traumas they have experienced.

It would be wonderful to have Daryl talk about losing his brother Merle; about what Rick’s acceptance meant to him; about what kept him going during his torture and time at Negan’s Sanctuary; about his guilt over Glenn’s death. And many fans would love to see Carol talk more about losing Sophia and Henry; about having to kill Lizzie; about her marriage to Ezekiel and why it fell apart. It would be particularly effective to have Carol and Daryl address issues that exist between them, from Carol’s repeated attempts to run away to their fight in Leah’s cabin from season 10. Their long history is the meat that makes their relationship so juicy and multi-layered, so it's odd that much of their interactions could be between people who just met. Zabel and the other writers should be exploiting that history to create depth to their relationship, and add layers to their interactions with the new people they meet.

5) Decide on the nature of Carol and Daryl's Relationship

This is, without doubt, the most talked about subject when it comes to Carol and Daryl: whether they are, or should be, romantically involved. And it may seem as though this question has been answered; after all, David Zabel has made clear that he believes Carol and Daryl’s relationship is purely platonic. Despite this, several scenes in Daryl Dixon seemed to allude to something else. In season 1, Antoine (the pigeon man) suggests that Daryl had a girlfriend back home who waited for him. And half of Episode 4 of The Book of Carol focused on the pair's time with an elderly couple, Didi and Theo. It was very clear that the show was pointing to the older couple as a parallel to Carol and Daryl. It's implied that Didi could see they were in love, and Theo called the pair as “like an old married couple.” If we are to see them as purely platonic, why dive into those kinds of themes? It only creates confusion among the fans.

Even Carol’s reaction to Daryl’s romance with Isabelle creates muddiness about the nature of their connection. Carol was shown to be hurt and troubled by the depth and speed of their relationship. If her feelings were only friendly why would Carol not be overjoyed that her best friend finding someone? And why was Daryl repeatedly playing down his relationship with Isabelle to Carol, and reassuring her he was always coming home to her?

Carol and Daryl have been described as sharing one soul, and as each other’s “home.” In Reedus’ words, Carol is “the one person in the world he needs.” If Carol and Daryl will always chose each other over everyone else, how does a partner get a look in? Outside romances are a pointless waste of time as Carol and Daryl will inevitably move on, or the new love interest will die. Stating that they are each other's home, and having Daryl declare they will always stay together, leaves no room for another love, and means their only true happy ending could be with each other. If their home is each other, then that’s clearly where their happy ending lies.

So if we are to believe they are just family to each other, then the idea of their shared soul and need to be with each other has to be dropped (along with allusions to them as married couple) for a more believable, looser dynamic that leaves space for outside love interests. Otherwise, anyone who comes into their orbit will face the same fate as Isabelle.

And either way, stop having Daryl simply not answer questions posed to him as a way to avoid committing one way or another to his feelings. It's a ploy that was used in the flagship show and spinoff multiple times — "Would you settle (down)?" "Why not Connie?" "Have you ever been in love?" "You loved her?" It's a lazy, cheap way to allow the audience to believe whichever answer suits them, but which leaves Daryl's characterisation shapeless and turbid. The character deserves to have a rich and open exploration of love without the show hedging its bets for fear of dividing the already unhappy audience.

[oceanno]

🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

[cristinabcn]

Washington: Exhibición de arte 3.0 en Fraser Mansion

Washington: Art Exhibit 3.0 at Fraser Mansion A principios de noviembre la muestra 3.0 de los maestros Arroyo Ceballos (España), Gotasi (Ecuador) y José Domínguez (España) se exhibe en la Fraser Mansion (Scientology National Affairs Office), lo que supone un encuentro de lo hispanohablante con tres marcados estilos pictóricos como son la Abstracción, el Piramidismo Cromático y el…

[daisyjoners]

“you look… never mind. i didn’t say shit!” // joseph&lauren

em outros momentos, estar em um casamento como aquele estaria a deixando completamente em uma inquietação para descobrir como cada detalhe fora colocado pela organizadora; onde que esta tinha encomendado aquelas estátuas, por exemplo, ou qual era a floricultura de onde conseguiu tulipas belas como aquelas tão fora da época. estaria tentando fazer contatos para futuros trabalhos com madrinhas, casais próximos e quaisquer possíveis interessados em seus serviços de organizadora. por mais que ela devesse se divertir, era difícil para lauren se desconectar de seu trabalho em um ambiente tão propício. naquela noite, contudo, não conseguia pensar em nada daquilo. estava incomodada, desconfortável, e a razão era justamente a aparição de seu ex-noivo no casamento de uma das amizades em comum deles - com a namorada nova nos braços, a mesma com que tinha traído lauren, e de quem ela costumava ser amiga. era humilhante ter de encarar o fruto daquela traição dupla, tudo o que queria era encher a cara e esquecer que os tinha conhecido. 

sua indisposição com os demais era tanta que, por alguns minutos, realmente esqueceu que acabaria na mesma mesa de joseph. normalmente, teria revirado os olhos somente de se aproximar do local e fazer o possível para ignorá-lo desde o primeiro momento, sabendo que eram enormes as probabilidades de que acabariam discutindo apesar disso. naquela ocasião, entretanto, apenas sentou na cadeira vaga bem ao lado dele, não dando bola para o homem ao seu lado; estava mais ocupada se obrigando a não olhar novamente para a pista de dança, onde o casal feliz marcava presença. queria muito que brandon fosse com uma passagem só de ida para o inferno e parasse de atrapalhar tanto a sua vida, isso sim. distraída com seus pensamentos, não notou de imediato o olhar do morris-buckley em sua direção, mas, quando o fez, ergueu as sobrancelhas em dúvida. “o que foi? tem alguma coisa na minha cara?” esperava o nível de resposta usual ou, ao menos, alguma demonstração de escárnio dele. certamente, não a reação confusa que ocorreu da parte dele. “eu tô como, joseph? tá querendo dizer que eu tô bonita? nossa, não achei que eu era o seu tipo.” disse, quase em deboche, porque duvidava muito que aquele fosse o caso. não achava que o vizinho deveria ter algo de bom a dizer sobre ela. contudo, a linguagem corporal dele deixou claro: a realidade era próxima disso.  entreabriu os lábios em um primeiro momento, sem saber muito o que dizer. era a primeira vez em que ele falava algo minimamente bom para ela, até onde se lembrava nos anos em que se conheciam. “não vou te morder por falar esse tipo de coisa pra mim. credo, tá achando que eu sou o quê?” bom, talvez a maneira com que já estivesse abordando aquilo deixasse bem claro o que o homem deveria pensar. ela não era muito receptiva com comentários vindo dele, por mais inofensivos que se mostrassem. porém, estava precisando, e muito, de uma ajuda em sua autoestima naquela noite. estava se sentindo um lixo, por mais que tivesse se dedicado em sua maquiagem e seu vestido azul-marinho, sem mangas, fosse a sua peça nova favorita do guarda-roupa até alguns dias atrás. “essa é a única vez em que eu vou te dar a permissão de me falar alguma coisa, buckley. aproveita.” até um elogio de joseph, de todas as pessoas, poderia ser suficiente. “olha, você ‘tá com planos de ir cantar alguma das madrinhas? porque é a sua cara usar casamento de tinder, mas eu preciso urgentemente de uma companhia que me impeça de cometer um homicídio duplo. se não quiser, melhor me avisar pra eu achar algum dos primos da eleanor.” o que não era um plano que realmente gostaria de levar adiante, visto que eram mais duvidosos que joseph morris-buckley aqueles caras. “mas, se quiser... eu prometo não ser tão… não vou encher você, ok? até peço uma bebida pra mostrar boa vontade.” suspirou, acrescentando: "por favor?"

[dix0nvix3n]

new cool mutual back at it with another banger post

i was blushing reading this

(sorry if you saw that one accidental reblog whoopsie)

Rickyl but they’re just mean, like real mean. Consensual obviously but they’re just kinda like use you for stress relief. Free use kink and all that jazz.

notes- I wanna be their free use housewife so bad... Thank you anon I so fuck with this. (Would do nsfw head canons for this if y’all wanted) Also I know you said mean, but I chose to keep it a little bit tame for this one. I can do mean though if you rlly want…

warnings- free use kink, throat fucking, sex, smut, slight degradation but also praising? pet names, slight daddy usage (only 2 times I think) <3

STESS RELIEF

They entered the house all huffy and scowling. Slamming doors shut with their twitching faces. Clearly pissed off. Both of them. You figured it had something to do with Negan, given all the Savior drama going on lately.

They’d both been pretty on edge as of late. And It really wasn’t taking much to set Daryl off. You’d learned that the hard way. Rick could keep it together a little better. But not by much. So you debated with yourself what to do. You tried to wait until they calmed down, fidgeting with your nails as they loudly stormed up to your bedroom. Waiting and listening to their muffled conversation from the bottom of the stairs. Unable to make out any real words, your curiosity got the best of you. So you went upstairs, your soft footsteps were silent on the cushiony carpet. Quietly knocking on the bedroom door, you asked if everything was ok. Not knowing wether you should actually go on in or leave and give them some space. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something about the Saviors under his breath. Daryl shook his head and sighed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked sweetly, walking further into the room. Trying to be the supportive little angel you worked so hard to be.

Neither answered. Just clenched their jaws and fought off their tempers. Not that you did anything wrong. But some days, they could be… mean. A little bit anyway. When they were seeing red and weren’t thinking clearly before they spoke. When they’d snap at you after a long day and their words end up making you bite your lip and your eyes gloss over. They never meant it. Not really. And they always felt bad after. But it happened here and there. You’d never blame them. They just have a lot on their plates. So you take their apologies as well as you can. As well as you take everything else that they give you.

You looked up with doe eyes. Trying to get a read on the situation. What you could tell for sure, was that they did not want to talk about it.

But… they did need to let their frustrations out somehow.

The two of them a shared a look that you’d come to recognize pretty well. The muscles in their face starting to relax the slightest bit at their silent agreement. Imagining the filthy things they were about to do to you.

“No. No talking.” Rick shook his head. Finally answering your question.

You swallowed. Feeling like maybe the room was closing in on you. Just the littlest bit. The way the two men seemed to stalk even closer. Closing in on you.

“Could use your help though. With something else.” Daryl said, chewing the inside of his lip.

“W- what’s that?” You stutter. Pathetic. They hadn’t even touched you yet.

But you knew what was coming. That strange, far away look in their eyes. Focused on one thing and one thing only.

Using you.

“Strip.” Rick ordered, pulling at the hem of your shirt as you tear it off. You, being the good girl you are, were eager to please. Quickly taking your jeans off and kicking them to the side before Rick shoved you by the shoulder, forcing you to bend right over the edge of the bed.

Before you know it, you’re a absolute mess. Drunk off their cocks. Off the way they can’t keep their grabby hands to themselves. How they shove you around til they have you where they want. And fuck you exactly how they want. For however long the want. It never mattered.

You were too in love for it to ever matter.

Drool was running down your chin as your jaw went slack, allowing Daryl to fully fuck your throat to the exact pace he needed. Both hands fisting your hair as his breaths got shorter and heavier. Grunting as he switched between throwing his head back and looking down, trying his absolute hardest not to take his eyes off your pretty face.

And Rick was behind you, fingers digging hard into your hips as he pulled you back against him. He hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off, instead just pulling them to the side. Lace stretching and tearing as he pounded into you. His eyes widened as he let out the sweetest little whimper at the sight of your creamy substance coating the base of his cock. Slapping your ass with a sharp sting. Warning yet another muffled moan from your throat. He started to fuck you faster and harder, with zero regard to your comfort or pleasure.

You didn’t mind. You never do. This was for them. Not you. They’d make up for it another time. For now, you were just their pretty little sex doll, used solely to blow off some steam. You loved it. Fuck did you ever love it. Their filthy broken up sentences, praising you for how well you took them.

“Our good little slut. Always takin’ us so well, ain’t you?”

“It’s like this pussy was made for us. Just for us to use and abuse, ain’t right baby?”

And you’d gag around Daryl’s dick even more, trying to answer with a “yes.” “Yes daddy. Made for you. Both of you. Only you.” They loved that. The fact that you agree with them. That you’d do absolutely anything they ask. And even better, that you’d let them do anything they want. That you were forever getting off on being your daddies little fuck toy.

Rick kept slapping your ass, delivering quick short blows to the tender skin as you squeaked in pain. Tears threatening to fall as the two of them fucked the life out of you. But even then, not a word. Not a complaint to be heard. Everything was okay, perfect even, now that you were making your boys feel better. And that’s all that mattered. That’s what you were there for.

They picked up their pace at the sound of all the dirty noises escaping you. Fucking you even harder until they both came with a groan. Filling you up with their seed. Forced to take their loads, you swallowed every drop that Daryl gave you as you felt Ricks starting to drip and run down your leg.

You watch their chests as their breathing starts to even out. All three of you lazily slumped onto the bed. You situated right in between them, thinking about how badly you still have to cum. About how you were so fucking close when they stopped. Thinking that you should have said something, and let them draw it out of you. Even if it meant a few extra spankings for being a selfish little slut.

You squeezed your legs together to try and relieve the need. Daryl noticed first. Both of them finally coming down from their aggressive little high, minds able to focus in on you again.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He teased. Knowing that you were probably a little too shy to tell him.

Daryl would grab your hands, pulling them from between your legs. Whimpering as silently as you could manage, at the loss.

“You need more, angel? Is that it? We gotta get you all filled up again?” Rick would chime in, both of their words causing the heat to rise to your cheeks.

“What do you want, sweetie?”

You couldn’t answer. Eyes shifting between them and settling on the blanket in front of you.

“Tell us.” Rick grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

You tried to shake your head. To shove the feelings down and away.

“Tell us, or it’s not happening.”

“Need… need to cum.” Your voice barely even a whisper. Eyes fluttering closed in embarrassment.

And they both let out a quiet laugh. Ricks hand coming down to cup your cunt, the friction of his palm against your panties never failing to make you moan. Daryl started at your breasts, groping you so that your nipples rise in to sensitive little peaks.

“You didn’t really think we were done now, did you?”

-

taglist: @rickswh0r3 , @elnyrae

(comments and reblogs are always appreciated, xoxo)

[moviestarmartini]

flores amarillas. — franco colapinto x gf!reader

él la estaba esperando con una flor amarilla / ella lo estaba soñando con la luz en su pupila / y el amarillo del sol iluminaba la esquina / lo sentía tan cercano, lo sentía desde niña.

summary: franco surprised you at the airport on a special saturday.

wc: 800

warnings: none! just fluff, conversations in spanish, idiots in love and a established relationship.

A/N: feliz día internacional (latino mostly) de las flores amarillas hehehehe i added the context in the fic so i won't give it here !

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The only way your trajectory to Singapore could get worse was if the plane exploded mid-air like in Final Destination. 

It was humiliating; you were supposed to arrive Friday, and by the time you took your last connection, the estimated time of arrival was for early Saturday morning. The bags under your eyes were bigger than the ones sitting in the compartment underneath the passengers, you went from lack of sleep due to excitement to hibernation, ignoring the flight attendants who attempted to wake you up. 

You only rose from your slumber while the destination edged nearer, to freshen up and half heartedly have breakfast. You did your best to look presentable, flushing away in the sink the despair from both the missed connections and long customs lines. This involved changing out of the designated airport lounging outfit into something more fresh, having prepared the outfit in your personal bag, feeling the humidity already crawl up your bones even when you hadn’t descended. 

After his excellent work in Baku, Franco was eager to finally fly you out to see him race live in the top category, only having experienced him in the feeder series. The nerves ate you up, walking the paddock with your boyfriend was something you had fantasized about, but never expected to become a reality even when he reached Formula One. 

But there you were, praying for your bag to come out and not have gotten lost, leaving a big sigh of relief upon spotting it, untampered with. It wasn’t that heavy, and it was that moment of strength that took over you whenever your boyfriend wasn’t there to carry everything. 

As soon as your roaming plan kicked in you contacted him, letting him know you were there. He told you he hired a chauffeur to pick you up and take you back to the hotel, excusing himself due to the need to rest before paddock duties, which you completely understood. 

Imagine the surprise to see him standing at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of yellow flowers. 

His face lit up in joy at the same time yours lit up in surprise, a delicate hand flying over to cover the O your mouth had turned into. 

Gifting yellow flowers on September 21st was used to celebrate the beginning of spring in the southern hemisphere, and the phenomenon just spread all throughout Hispanic countries. You’d dropped hints here and there, but with the stress from your flight… situations you’d completely forgotten about everything else. 

Your suitcase made noise against the floor as you dragged it along your sprint, letting it go— but making sure it stayed put— before hugging him tight. His laughter replenished all the energy the trouble had taken away from you, nuzzling into his shirt to breathe in his scent. 

Yeah, it was your Franco. 

“¡Me mentiste!” You proclaimed, hitting him in the chest. He ignored the subject of the yellow flowers and supposedly arranged for a third party to pick you up. 

“Buen día princesa hermosa, feliz de verte.” He blatantly ignored your claims, leaning in to smooch your cheek, hanging the bouquet of sunflowers with fresh eucalyptus mixed in for some greenery. You didn’t know if your ears felt warm because of the high temperatures or the flattery. 

“¿Cómo es que iba la canción? Ella sabía que el sabía que sabía que algún día pasaría—“ You interrupted his annoying high pitched sing along while you took a picture of the plants, heart thumping in your chest. 

“No, no. Que él sabía que algún día pasaría a buscarla—“ Now it was his turn for him to interrupt you, putting a finger over your lips. 

“—con sus flores amarillas!” Though you would regularly be offended at him interrupting you, you almost giggled at his antics. 

You stood there for a second, unable to tear your eyes away from the warm toned bouquet, still in the best type of disbelief. You didn’t notice it was you who he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

The second you told him you were asking for all the permissions to get a vacation sorted to see him race, he knew he had to make it special. And by your reaction, he knew it was a mission accomplished. Besides, it warmed his heart to see you so happy. 

“Let’s go get you freshen up and head to the paddock, if I’m any later than the hour I have left, they’re going to replace me.” Now the idea didn’t terrify you just as much, you were too busy gawking about the surprise to your mom and your friends, following him to the car knowing you had no time to lose nor spare. 

He took both your weekender and the medium sized suitcase, letting you to only carry the weight of having the best boyfriend ever. 

[book-daenerys]

George R. R. Martin to Amazon.co.uk: The whole point of the scene in A Game of Thrones where Daenerys hatches the dragons is that she makes the magic up as she goes along; she is someone who really might do anything.

George R. R. Martin in an online Q&A from 1999: The birth of Dany’s dragons was unique, magical, wonderous, a miracle. She is called The Unburnt because she walked into the flames and lived.

George R. R. Martin to Desde Hollywood: Magic is coming more and more to the fore. Magic has awakened when the dragons awoken.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

One of the oddest Silmarillion takes that I’ve seen recently is the idea that Beren and Lúthien had it easy.

I mean, let’s take a look at Beren’s life. The Battle of Sudden Flame hits when he’s in his early twenties. He spends five years carrying on a guerilla war against the invasion of his homeland by orcs and other evil creatures; his mother and all his female relatives have to flee, and he has no knowledge of whether they are desd or alive, or captured. There’s a strange darkness speading over the forest and turning it into something out of a horror movie, a place most people won’t even dare to go into. The band of guerillas is slowly whittled down to about a dozen people, who are hunted constantly by Sauron and his wolves. Then, while he is away, his father, his uncles, and everyone else remaining are brutally killed, and he returns to find crows eating their corpses and orcs joking about looting the dead.

He carries on an guerilla alone, against Sauron, for another several years, in the haunted woods od Taur-nu-Fuin. When he absolutely can’t last any longer, he crosses the most horrifying wasteland in all of Beleriand, where the only water present is poisoned and turns you mad, filled with evil spiders and who knows what other creatures. He’s in his early thirties but he’s been through so mich that he looks like an old man. He has lost literally everyone he has ever known; he does not know if any friend or relative of his, anywhere, is still free or living.

Then he meets Lúthien.

When he leaves Doriath on the quest of the Silmaril, which every sane person in Beleriand knows is laughably impossible, he goes to Finrod, the one person he can hope for any assustance from. Finrod has an entire realm; I don’t think Beren is any expectation that Finrod will go with him personally. And what happens? The king of the largest remaining kingdom in Beleriand besides Doriath is overthrown by his own people at the instigation of Celegorm and Curufin and left with only a few loyal people around him. All of whom then die torturously in the dungeons of Sauron, followed by Finrod’s own death saving Beren.

On top of everything else he’s been through, on top of spending several months in despair being tortured in Sauron’s dungeons, the survivor’s guilt that Beren must be feeling is extreme. Even after Lúthien rescues him, it takes him a while to recover. And he still hasn’t made any progress on the quest itself!

Then they’re attacked by Celegorm and Curufin – the people who bear a substantial amount of respinsibility for the death of Finrod and the Ten, the people who very deliberately abandoned them all to due and coerced all Nargothrond to do the same, and the people who kidnapped Lúthien and attempted to force her into marriage – and they try to kidnap Lúthien again, and to murder Beren.

The fact that Beren does not kill Curufin in that moment is a deed of extreme moral fortitude. The difference between Beren and Lúthien compared with many of the Finwëans isn’t that they don’t face temptations, or that their choices are easy, it’s that they overcome those temptations.

So. Beren spares Curufin’s life at Lúthien’s urging and Curufin immediately tries to murder Lúthien; Beren jumps in front of the arrow, is severely wounded again, and for the third time since they met Lúthien gets to work healing him. Virtually all of their time together has been spent with Beren recuperating from physical injury, psychological injury, or both.

And as soon as Beren recovers, he walks away from the one person who loves him who’s still alive, and prepares to rob the gates of Hell, alone. Because Beleriand is dangerous, and as long as Lúthien is with him and therefore unable to go anywhere safe, she will be in danger from both the servants of Morgoth and the sons of Fëanor. And even if there’s a virtual 100% chance that him walking into Angband will lead to him being slowly tortured to death, that’s a better option than the one person he has left getting killed or, worse, captured, because of him.

And then she goes with him anyway. And beyond all hope they actually succeed in getting a Silmaril - and then he immediately loses it, and his hand, to Carcharoth, and it was all for nothing.

And for the fourth time since Lúthien met him, he’s near death and she’s desperately fighting to heal him and kerp him alive, while she’s exhausted to the point of collapse. And this is the moment when she gives up and goes back to Doriath, because that is what has the best chance of keeping Beren alive.

And then, at last, a ray of hope – Thingol looks at all they’ve been through and says, fine, you crazy kids can get married. And they’ve scarcely been married yet when they learn that oh, it’s not over, Carcharoth is rampaging through the land killing people and this needs to be dealt with. And Beren, even after everything, insists on going. (Because, hello, survivor’s guilt! he probably feels that this is his fault for, uh, getting his hand bitten off.)

(The fact that the Silmaril was, for a time, inside a wolf and outside Doriath, and Celegorm, noted hunter, never got near it, is, okay, rather amusing to me.)

And then Beren dies, saving Thingol, because he knows deeply what it feels like to lose his family and he’s not going to let that happen to Lúthien. And she loses him instead.

Now let’s shift to Lúthien’s point of view. Since her first meeting with Beren she has been betrayed by literally everyone she knows and everyone she meets except for Beren and Huan. She has been treated like a child, and a madwoman, and a trophy, and a pawn, and a sex object, and literally everything except an adult person whose choices have worth and meaning. She is not a superhero; she does not know what she is doing; she is terrified for practically every moment of it, for Beren’s sake even more than for her own, and for much of it she is hopeless. She does not know how or if she can achieve anything; she only knows that she has to try, because it is better than sitting in Doriath waiting to find out if Beren is dead. She puts substantial work and thought and effort into figuring out how to get out of Doriath (given in more detail in the poetic version) – and then, just when she thinks she’s found help (note: Celegorm and Curufin do not give her their names when they first meet her; she doesn’t know they’re the sons of Fëanor), she is again taken captive, this time with the goal of forced marriage and the threat of rape hanging over her. And she still knows Beren is in desperate danger, and she still can do nothing about it.

When Huan aids her and she goes to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, it isn’t because she feels she has the power to fight Sauron one-on-one! It’s because she’s desperate and can’t think of any other options. And in fact, it is not she who defeats Sauron, it is Huan; once he is defeated by Huan, she has the intelligence and strength of will to force his surrender by threatening him with something he fears more than defeat, and to demand – not the freeing of Beren alone – but the destruction of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, freeing all its prisoners. The reason she defeats Sauron is not that she’s a half-Maia badass who can wave her hands and do everything easily! The reason she defeats him is that she shows up there completely vulnerable and in effect uses herself as bait. That is an extraordinary degree of courage, not some kind of deus ex machina. And she’s putting all the strength that she has on the line – she’s pretty much passing out by the time she finds Beren. Similarly, all her healing of him is hard, exhausting work that she’s doing despite being, the whole time, terrified that he’s about to die. None of this is easy.

Likewise in Angband – Huan’s advice and Lúthien’s magic of disguise and sleep is invaluble in getting them through the door and past Carcharoth, but the reason she is able to enchant Morgoth and cast all Angband into sleep is not primarily because of extreme power, but because, like every other non-Beren person she meets, he doesn’t take her seriously. Morgoth finds the idea of using Melian’s daughter as a brief entertainment amusing (and, if you read the poetic version, makes some truly creepy sexual threats against her), and that’s how she is able to get him unguarded enough that she’s well into her song and he’s already getting sleepy before it starts to occur to him that maybe this isn’t going quite as he planned. Lúthien’s victories are not because she’s just on a different power level from the rest of Beleriand, they’re because she’s amazingly brave and willing to walk into the most dangerous places virtually defenceless. And she and Beren rely on each other utterly – after her sleep song she’s practically passing out and can only get out of Angband because Beren is holding her up.

So this is who they are, at Beren’s death. A man who has lost everyone he loves and everyone who loves him, every friend or family, often helplessly witnessing their gruesome death – everyone except for Lúthien. And an elf-woman who has been betrayed by everyone she loved or trusted, except for Beren.

When Beren dies, I wonder if he’s even relieved that it’s finally him dying instead of everyone around him. When he sees Lúthien in the Halls of Mandos, I believe his first feeling would be not joy or love, but horror. That the last living person he loved, and the one he wanted above all to save, had now died because of him.

But Lúthien isn’t done. She goes to Mandos, and she sings, and her song says: look at what we have been through, look at what all Beleriand has been through, Eldar and Edain. We don’t want realms or glory or power; we only want a few moments of peace with each other, and we fought so hard for it, and we didn’t even get that. And when she’s offered bliss and immortality for herself, she says No, I don’t want it, not without Beren. She isn’t promised happiness or long life – she only know that for the short time she will get, she will have the chance to be with Beren. And that is enough for her; for that, she gives up everything else.

This is a faerie-story; but it does not sound to me like a trite tale of easy victories handed to the heroes by Fate or by the author! They fought and struggled and sacrificed for those victories, amd they did it without ever letting go of courage, and mercy, and humility. There is a reason why this is the story that Frodo and Sam hearken back to for inspiration.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#124 Ororon Mijo!

At a Fatui Camp...Ororon is still working with Capitanno when a giant dragon descends to attack the Fatui, its tail whacking Capitano into the mountain... as the dragon is about to devour Ororon-

Quetzal!Y/n*Opens eyes as you rise up and growl at your first fatui scum*

Fatui*Screams in shock*AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!?!?

Quetzal!Y/n*Opening your mouth to roast them*AAAARRRRRH!?-

Ororon*Also screaming but stops when he takes a better look at you, taking off his hoodie* AAAAH-…Jefa/Jefe?

Quetzal!Y/n*Stops and looks down at the small human and eyes widen seeing that signature scar on his face*…Ororon?…"Mijo!"

Ororon then latches in for a hug at the dragon's head as the dragon is happily nuzzling him and gives him kisses on his head…shocking the Fatui silent

Ororon"Que Paso Jefaaaa/Jefeee?~"

Quetzal!Y/n*Grabbing him with your tail and setting him on top of your head as you walk off"Como has estado mijo?~"

Ororon"Pues bien,haya chambeando en mi huerto"

Quetzal!Y/n:"Platicame todo desde el principio!!!"

Ororon"Psssh- Te acuerdas que me pelie con Nana-pues ya sabes como se puso ella bien punk! PUES QUE ME LARGE NO MAS-YO NO PUDE POR QUE ME ESTABA SERMONEANDO-...Y despues me dio con la chancla"

Fatui:…

Capitano*Coming out from the mountain injured*"Por que siempre hay una Padre/Madre que se interpone en mis planes..."

Part 3 of:

"Sonny?"

"Whats up Ma/Pa?~

"How you been sonny?~"

"Pssh well been good, working my crops"

"Tell me everything from the beginning!!!"

"Pssh-Well remember when I had a fight with the granny, you know how she gets all punk, SO I RAN AWAY, NO MORE-I COULDNT TAKE IT ANYMORE BECAUSE SHE WAS LECTURENING ME, the beat me with the sandal..."

"Why is there always a parent who interrupts my plans..."

[snowsinterlude]

the ballad of money, power, and glory.

(coriolanus snow x reader x lucy gray baird)

summary: being lucy gray's best friend, you were always updated on her life, not knowing how she truly felt for you. and now, with coriolanus snow being your new friend, it was odd seeing them fighting so much over your attention, with you not knowing that both of them were obsessively in love with you.

based on this ask

c.w: lucy gray baird, coriolanus snow, implied aromantic reader, yandere behavior from both of them (nothing too serious), unrequited love, drama, jealousy, love triangle, obsessive love. contains some movie/book accurate mentions but nothing very important, violent content, lucy is mentioned to have been your first kiss, commedy in the end.

chapter one: money.

"god, you gotta see her, snow." lucy beamed, her smile going from ear to ear as she talked about you. "she's so cute! i think she's the love of my life, truly." she said

snow frowned at her words. in the capitol, it wasn't seen in good lights to have someone talking so passionately about other person of the same gender. he rolled his eyes internally, his arms were on the back of his back as he walked behind her. supposedly, you were going to be waiting for them at the train station.

he walked, and walked, and walked. all of those minutes were awfully torturing his soul as he watched lucy gray talk more and more about you- as if she hadn't done it during the entire hunger games already. like on the zoo, when he thought she would be crying from fear of dying when, in reality, she was crying from fear of not seeing you for a last time.

he remembered it perfectly, better than he remembered the biology classes he had. lucy bawling her eyes out silently, still sobbing as she looked at him and explained how much she owed you- how much she loved you. it was like she couldn't think of anything other than you.

"she is always so pretty, so sickeningly beautiful. i can't stand the thought of losing her, snow. i wanna be with her." she said, her eyes red and puffed while her nose was as red as a tomato.

"have you told her about it?" he asked, face leaned on his fist as he observed the singer cry.

"no, snow." she answered, sniffing. "i've made a mistake," she chuckled, wanting to slap herself.

"what did you do?"

'i only noticed i love her now."

remebering that, snow started thinking that you should be the most beautiful girl of district 12- or that maybe you didn't had a single flaw on your skin por something like that. maybe you were one of those who hypnotized people at your surroundings to make them percieve you like the most desired thing they wished for.

but then he saw you from afar, waiting for lucy gray while your eyes roamed through the crowd. he didn't asked for you, no, never. he never asked you to blink like a doll, to look at him with those shining eyes and god, whatever it was that snapped inside you made him obsessed with the thought of having you as his main prize.

his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of lucy gray baird hugging you tightly, kissing your face multiple times as you laughed, hands on her waist as you kissed her face too. he cleared his throat, awkwardly.

"ah, snow. that's my best friend, my soulmate, y/n" she said, and you chuckled before shaking his hand.

"pleasured to meet you, yn. im-"

"coriolanus snow, i know." you said, kissing the back of his hand in a theatrical manner. "hello."

"you know?"

"yeah, my dear lucy told me all about you. and, let's be sincere, you were on the tv during the interviews on the hunger games." you said, smiling while shaking his hand "i'm happy you helped her!" you said

the spark that shone in his heart was fueled furiously by your words. 'your desde lucy'? what's that, a movie?

that was the first time he felt jealousy.

chapter two: power.

lucy gray baird was your best friend since kindergarden. what could you say? sandbox love never dies.

well, her love for you seemed to have grown sharp as a way to protect you and herself from the ones that could hurt you. that's why she glanced at snow menancingly as he forced his place between you both at the bar. when you were dancing with some older group of old ladies, she finally spoke up.

"what are you doing?" she asked, not looking into his eyes, and she didn't needed to for him to know she was angry.

"what do you mean?" he asked, faking innocence.

"don't act innocent, coriolanus." she growled, frowning "she's mine."

"i don't recall asking for that information." he said, smiling at the sight of your happy face dancing with other elders.

"you will not take her away from me." she said, getting up and walking to you only to playfully grab your waist and your hand, dancing with you while coriolanus watched.

you were so dazzling beautiful in his eyes, he just had to have you. it wasn't his fault that lucy gray thought and felt the same way about you.

with that in mind, lucy gray baird punch on his face was unexpected.

"what the fuck, baird?!"

"i told you to leave her alone! you are a fucking peacekeeper, coriolanus! when will you stop that?!"

"'that' what???" he asked, voice loud enough for him to frown at it.

"don't feign dumb, you disgraceful blond. you know she has sensible hearing and you bring her in to fucking SHOT at trees?" she screamed. the singer had the most defiant frown on her face, making it clear just how much she was willing to go for you.

his expression seemed to calm down, his stare on her became confused. "i... i didn't know- she didn't tell me-"

"oh of course you don't know. do you even bother asking?!" she asked, her eyes boring holes into him. "get away from her, snow."

and she left him behind just like that.

of course he wouldn’t know how sensitive you were when it comes to your hearing. he would never get to know you the way she did. but behind that façade, she hated herself for introducing him to you.

at this moment, she hated snow as much as he hated her.

chapter three: glory.

that wasn't on your plans.

you were aware of your friendship with lucy being a bit too... sweet. you didn't care about it. she was still your best friend and you were still the girl who saved her from that ginger girl.

when you met coriolanus snow, you could already see history repeating itself. lucy was jealous and coriolanus was obsessive. this match would end up being your death, probably.

you didn't really liked them the way they wished you did. you were aware of how much coriolanus liked you, from the moment you kissed the back of your hand till now.

and yet, you were still not into the singer nor the victor, you were fine on your own and decided that a long time ago. you wouldn't be a good girlfriend, couldn't even take care of yourself, how would you take care of someone else?

for that motive, and others, that i won't be able to speak about, you never liked anyone. and people started thinking it was lucy gray's fault, with her cunt m constant bragging about being your first kiss. and she was, but you not liking anyone wasn't her fault, you truly just couldn't seem to find someone who was just right to you.

with that being said, you were the one angry at them right now. what the hell that has happened between them, envolved you, and you weren't having it.

"i don't love any of you," you said, for their own shock.

chapter four: the ballad of the unloved ones.

sitting still on front of you, lucy gray baird felt like she was punched on her heart, losing air from her lungs quickly than actually needed. coriolanus, right by her side, felt the urge to throw up as he recieved the unhappy news of how you didn't loved them.

it was the truth, though. but you still held them on each of your arms and let them take in the affirmation of how you felt about them.

"but-" lucy begun, shaking a bit from the anxiety on her chest.

"-no, lu. i'm sorry," you said, "i don't really feel like loving anyone. i never loved anyone, not in this way though." you cooed, giving her the comfort of your kisses on her forehead.

"but maybe, if we j-just-" coriolanus stopped in his tracks when you shook your head negatively, your fingers drawing patterns on his scalp, and he almost meowed at it.

"sorry, dear. i only love you both as friends." you said.

and they understood you after a long talking, a bunch of silent tears and sobs from their delusions.

by the end of the day, they were at the bar, both looking pathetically red from the way they cried after it.

"sorry for punching you on the nose," lucy said, and she looked like a ghost, finger tracing patterns on a cup. "i don't wanna lose her," she goes.

"sorry for shooting the mocking jays on that evening," he said, sipping on his cup. he was refering to the evening where she punch him.

"you did what."

"uh. i shot the mocking jays."

"coruolanus 'm gonna shoot you in the ass." she growled.

they were back to being friends, and made sure to protect you. just because you didn't reciprocated none of their feelings it didn't mean they would start bitchin' about it (even though they did for like, two weeks.)

so, them both heard festus with his friends talking about you- it wasn't nothing good. and which better way to end him than punching him?

yeah, they were still your best friends. you still loved them dearly with each part of your being.

but just as friends.

[sthavoc]

౨ৎ🎞️ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x actress!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: you and Enzo are in the same event, meeting each other for the first time, and of course the paparazzi wanted a few shots with you both. Which later led to conversations between the two of you.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: none

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: he looks rlly good in that pic doesn’t he.. but apart from that I hope u guys enjoy this. this is in spanglish bc I just think the dialogue in spanish fits the guys better. also I’m not rlly good with writing imagines. this would be like my first time I publish one so I’m sorry if it’s ass lol. btw i’m sorry if I get anything wrong i’m not uruguayan or argentinian, but I do speak spanish.

Enzo couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It’s not that he had staring problems it’s just that you looked amazing and he just couldn’t believe he was in the same place as you. It was an important event and you both were lucky to find yourselves in the same place.

“Ya dale ve a presentarte boludo.” Juani stood next to Enzo. He had partially slapped Enzo on the back of his head making him snap from his gaze. “¿O te le vas a quedar viendo como loco todo el evento?”

“Callate” Enzo laughs as he glances your way. The cameras flashed on you as you posed and smiled for the pictures. You looked gorgeous.

“No en serio. O te presentas vos o lo hacemos nosotros.” Fran’s voice made both of the boys heads turn his way.

“No me va a pelar.”

“Yo creo que ya lo hizo. Mira.” Juani chuckles racing his brows as he darted at Enzo.

Juani had seen you staring their way with a feeble smile painted on your tinted lips. They all payed attention to how you looked forward to the cameras, giving them all a smile with a wave as you walked the opposite direction.

“No, no. Que viene acá.” Enzo panics. “Que hago.”

“Presentate.” Matias gives him a dull push.

By the time you had reached them, the guys stepped away and began to make their own conversation, leaving Enzo and you alone. Enzo turned around to the guys. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess anything up. After all, it was his first time meeting you.

“Hola mucho gusto, Y/N L/N. Te vi desde lejos y quise venir a saludar y a decirte que vi la Sociedad de la Nieve, y debo decir que me encantó.” You gush with a small smile as you hold your eyes on the man. You extended out your hand for him to shake. Which he did, but he also gave you a small kiss on the cheek. You hoped your lipstick didn’t leave a kiss print.

“Enzo Vogrincic. Muchas gracias. Es un gusto conocer a gran estrella como vos. yo soy un gran fan tuyo y.. te ves muy hermosa.” He was trying so hard not to seem like an idiot right now.

“Ay que lindo. Gracias.” Your lips carved a smile at his praise. You yourself made an effort not to blush. “Tú también te ves guapo.”

“Guys! Look this way!” A paparazzi called for your attention.

“¿Te gustaría tomarte algunas fotos conmigo?” You request motioning towards the cameras.

“Sí , sí. Claro.” He gestures for you to follow first. He somewhat helps you fix your dress as you walk away. As you both find your pose his hand lands on your lower bare back. And of course as the gentleman he is he instantly withdrew his hand. “Perdona.”

you let out a small chuckle telling him it was okay. He partially thought twice but he placed it back in its place when he felt your own hand on his back. Enzo just wanted you to feel comfortable around him. As he didn’t want to weird you out on your first meeting.

“You guys look amazing together!” A paparazzi exclaimed trying to get as many pictures concurrently.

“Hm, creo que les encantamos a los paparazzi” Enzo jokes making you look up at him with a smile. There will absolutely be pictures of that pose.

“Al parecer sí.”

“Vamos, si queres te puedo presentar a los chicos.” Enzo’s hand rested inside the pocket of his dressing pants in a nervous manner.

You of course agreed with a hum, stepping away from the center and walking towards where the rest of the cast was. Enzo tried on guiding you while he motioned the guys with his hands to walk over.

“Chicos, Y/N. Y/N estos son Matias, Juani, Fran, y Agustín.”

“Mucho gusto.” You greet each of the boys. “Buen trabajo que hicieron en la película.”

“Muchas gracias.” They all reply in unison.

“Sos una actriz increíble me veo todas tus películas.” Juani comments making you give him a warm smile, and bringing your hand to your heart.

“Ayy re lindo.”

“Bueno pero y si entramos ya? Cómo que tanto flash me está mareando.” Matias’ eyes shoot a double blink. He also brought his hand to his right temple giving it a small massage.

“Concuerdo.” Enzo nods.

Everyone walked inside the event. First thing that met the group were the LED lights that colored the room and the huge amount of tables that had glasses and champagne on them. Not to forget the decorations. Every single one of you turned your heads to admire the whole room. Enzo who didn’t waist no time hurried himself to pull up a chair for you. That made you release a smile.

“Gracias.”

He himself sat next to you as the boys filled around some of the seats around the table. Juani grabbed the bottle of champagne making a foolish face towards Fran, creating a bit of laughter between the two. Matias and Agustin didn’t last in joining their conversation, and also in taking silly pictures of each other.

“Entonces, Enzo. Cuéntame de ti.” You tried to make a conversation to reduce the quietness between the two.

“Uff.” He raised his brows letting out a chuckle. “Que no se puede saber ya.” He comments making the two of you laugh, you yourself racing a brow tilting your head to the side for a split second. “Pero pues tengo 30 años. Me fascina el teatro. Me encanta tomar fotos, la música”

“Wow. Tenemos cositas en común eh.” He looks at you with a warm smile and a glint in his eyes from the small nudge you gave him. “me encanta la fotografía, también me gusta el teatro y amo la música. Tengo un record player y me encantaría poder ir a una disquera y comprar más discos. Y debo de mencionar que nunca me vas a cachar sin mis audífonos en mis días libres.” A small chuckle escapes from Enzo’s lips at your remark.

“Ese soy yo con la fotografía. Voy a todos lados con mi cámara.” He motions towards his camera, which you hadn’t even noticed. “Si queres podemos ir a una disquera que vi por ahí cuando me estaba paseando.”

“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” A playful smile crept upon your covered lips as you watched how a nervous look arose on his face.

“Bueno.. como amigos obviamente.” He quickly adds.

“Te estoy jodiendo. Claro que podemos ir.” He laughs in relief as he sets his arm on the table staring at the ground. “Sirve de que tomas algunas fotos” You add motioning towards his camera.

“¿Me darías tu número entonces?”

You watched how Enzo took out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before setting it between the two of you. Your hand reaches for the phone, giving him a small glance with a slight smile. You start to look for the contacts app before you began on typing your number in his phone.

“toma. no me nombres nada malo por favor.” You joke as you watched him create your contact.

“para nada, linda. No quiero que me odies.”

Enzo was starting to come out of his shell, letting out a pet name was somehow a small way of him showing he was getting comfortable around you. He just hoped it didn’t mean too much for you to shut him out. On the contrary though.

You softly giggled and somewhat blushed at the pet name. “odiarte no creo.” His eyes turned their all divided attention to you as he finished his typing and locked his phone again before placing it back into his pocket.

“Pues espero que me podas responder el mensajito.” He murmured as he got closer to you for you to be able to hear him.

“Por supuesto que te contestaré.” You point towards him. “Me encantaría ir a esa disquera y si se puede me puedes tomar algunas fotitos.” He smiles as he receives the silly wink you gave him.

“Claro. Sí. Sería un gusto.” He rests his hand on his chest. “Si queres te enseño algunas que tengo en mi celular.” You nod liking the idea as he takes out his phone again looking for his gallery and the folder where he kept all of his pictures.

“Podes deslizar a la izquierda.” He gives you his phone which already had the first picture set.

“Oh wow.” You were amazed by the simple yet amazing quality pictures he has taken. Some were of cats, buildings, him in black and white. “Son hermosas Enzo. Si no la hubieras echo de actor la hubieras echo de fotógrafo.” You laughed along with him.

“Es algo simple. Es uno de mis hobbies.” He murmurs next to you as he also looked at the pictures.

“Pues eres muy talentoso, de verdad.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your eyes leaving the picture with a light smile as Enzo didn’t tear his eyes off you.

“Y/N! oh my God here you are!” you recognized the voice making you look behind you, and Enzo finally looking somewhere that wasn’t your face.

You found the person the voice belonged to. “Oh, Maddie. Hi.” You chuckled. “I’m sorry I got a little distracted.” You turn to look at Enzo and then the boys.

Maddie’s eyes scanned the whole table as her strawberry tinted lips were opened a jar with a smile. “Hi. Madelyn Cline.” She greeted as everyone waved at her. Her eyes went back to you as she gave you a smile with a knowing look. “It’s okay you can totally stay here. I don’t mind.”

You looked at Maddie then back at the boys and at Enzo. He was quick to speak. “Te podes ir si queres. No hay problema.” He shrugged and the guys filled in into his request.

“Bueno. Disculpen. Pero fue un gusto conocerlos a todos y ojalá podamos un día volvernos a ver.” Each one of the guys got up from their seat and kissed you goodbye as they agreed with you, including Enzo. “Enzo un gusto.” Your hand rested on his arm for support and his on your waist as you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Un gusto linda.” He decided to use the pet name again for a last time tonight.

You turned your back on their table leaving with Maddie as a small smile stayed on your lips. You did hope to see all of them again, especially Enzo. There was something about his vibe and talking to him that made you feel at peace. Like you enjoyed his company.

And you honestly couldn’t wait to get his message.

[ricciardoracing]

when we were young - CS55

carlos sainz x oc!engineer!character

summary: carlos and sasha were carlos and sasha since birth. but what’s going to happen when he leaves ferrari?

warnings + fc: some translated spanish, 90s timeline totally forgotten and different, isabel slander (i love her im sorry). nicola peltz and gigi hadid

september 1st, 2019

Madrid, Spain

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sashaivanova feliz cumpleaños para el mejor amigo y persona (y conductor) del mundo entero, gracias por ser parte de mi vida desde siempre. te quiero más de lo que las palabras pueden describir.

(happy birthday for the best friend and person (and driver) in the whole world, thanks for being part of my life since forever. i love you more than words can describe.)

tagged: @/carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 mi princesa, no te merezco y nunca lo haré, pero con gusto seré egoísta y te mantendré conmigo para siempre. te amo ❤️ (my princess, i don't deserve you and never will, but i will gladly be selfish and keep you with me forever. i love you ❤️)

charles_leclerc happy birthday mate! @/carlossainz55

landonorris happy birthday muppet @/carlossainz55 ! grateful for having you as teammate ❤️

ivanivanov57 happy birthday son!

isahernaez happy birthday to my love!

user1 anyone else think it’s funny how isabel don’t even follow sasha nor even LIKED the post and yet she’s here commenting

user2 ugh I KNOW “my love”???? okay girl we know he’s yours you don’t have to make a scene

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Back in 92’, when Carlos Sainz was winning his first Rally championship, Ivan Ivanov, a 20-year-old rising star for Scuderia Ferrari, formed a close bond with the rally driver and his family, including his wife Reyes and daughter Blanca. Ivan introduced his girlfriend, 17-year-old model Mariya Orlova, and their relationships flourished.

In 1994, Reyes became pregnant and asked Mariya to be the godmother. Mariya supported Reyes through her pregnancy, and in September, Carlos Sainz Jr. was born. The following year, Mariya became pregnant, with Reyes and Carlos Sr. as the godparents. Reyes and her son frequently visited Mariya during her pregnancy. On September 10th, 1995, Mariya gave birth to Aleksandra Ivanova. From their first meeting as babies, it seemed destined that Carlos Jr. and Aleksandra would one day be together.

As the years passed, Aleksandra “Sasha” Ivanova, a child prodigy, entered mechanical engineering college at 16, in Oxford. In 2015, she became the racing engineer for four-time F1 champion Sebastian Vettel at Scuderia Ferrari, forming a highly successful partnership despite skepticism over her age.

In October 2019, her father, four-time F1 champion Ivan Ivanov, passed away unexpectedly, prompting his daughter Sasha and his godson Carlos Sainz Jr. to miss a race weekend, drawing media attention. Following the loss, Carlos grew distant from his girlfriend, Isabel, and became closer to Sasha, with whom he shared an apartment in Monaco. In October 2020, Carlos ended his relationship with Isabel.

september 10th, 2020

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carlossainz55 happy birthday to my other half and soulmate. i thank my dad every single day for being friends with yours and making us get to grow up together. here’s to many more birthdays together! te quiero mucho, mi princesita.

tagged: @/sashaivanova

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During the pandemic, the tension between Carlos and Sasha grew so overwhelming that their relationship became strained. One evening, Sasha walked barefoot around the apartment with another bottle of wine closed, the McLaren merch with a huge '55' in front being so big that it was used as a dress, her hair half tied up and her face very red. She sat on the couch with her legs on the Spaniard's lap, opening the bottle and taking a big sip. "You know, I was thinking," she began to speak, her voice a little shaky from the drink. "Have you ever thought about what would have happened if we had stayed together?". Carlos looked at her with his puppy eyes and approached her, his hands, which were resting on the couch, touching each other.

"I think about it every day, Sash. You're my best friend." Carlos' voice trembled a little, but it wasn't because of the drink. He got closer, his eyes almost apologizing to her.

Sasha tilted her head to the side a little confused, her hand moving to touch the Spaniard's forehead, "Is everything okay?" She questioned him, worried. Without further words, he closed the gap between them, pulling her for a kiss that was nothing like the fun night they were sharing moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, full of the intensity of everything that had been accumulating between them for years. Sasha froze for a second, surprised by how quickly it was, but then she melted in him, her hands squeezing his face while kissing him back with equal fervor. The heat of the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed together, the wine now forgotten.

That night, Carlos and Sasha's relationship went from 'best friends and confidants' to 'best friends, confidants and sweethearts'.

When Ferrari hired Carlos, the first thing they did was inform their love relationship. Fortunately, the team was very receptive and they lived three seasons (and three years) very happily. Until February 2024.

The announcement of Lewis' hiring and Carlos' dismissal was a thud for Sasha. Of course, she would love to work with Lewis, but Carlos was her pilot. He was everything she ever wanted in a pilot and she wouldn't give up on him. Scuderia Ferrari offered her a contract renewal, 5 more years, another jackpot of millions of euros. But Sasha wasn't sure if she should accept, she wasn't sure how that would leave her with Carlos.

After Carlos announced that he signed a contract with Williams, the British team went after Sasha. Of course they would, the Russian girl was brilliant. Absurdly brilliant. But she backed down, not sure if she should refuse Williams' offer and renew with Ferrari.

During the summer break, Carlos was feeling down. He flew back to Madrid, knowing that she would go there as soon as she visited her mother in Monaco. He kept rominating on his thoughts, feeling more and more useless. He would never be enough. Not for Ferrari, not for the Formula world, not for Sasha. Lost in thoughts, he didn't remember that that would be the day she would return to their house.

She entered the house silently, feeling something seemed wrong the moment she came in. The air was heavy, the kind of silence that was restless in his chest. He barely noticed when Sasha entered, very stuck in the spiral of his thoughts.

Sasha was beautiful, brilliant - he thought - everything he dreamed of, but never really believed he deserved it. And just like the team, she had a choice. There would always be someone better, someone who could love her more.

"Carlos?" Her voice broke his thoughts, soft but firm, pulling his gaze to her.

“Hi, cariño, you came home early.” He forced a smile, but seemed fragile, ready to collapse under the weight of everything he couldn't say.

Sasha got closer to him, her footsteps now muffled by the carpet. Her chest tightened when she knelt in front of him, her eyes examining his face with a kind of tenderness that he didn't feel he deserved at that moment. "¿Qué ha ocurrido? ¿Qué está pasando?"

Her voice came out low as she asked, his body shivering from her Russian accent in that rusty Spanish.

"Nothing," he said quickly, the sound empty and shallow. “I’m fine, really. Thanks for asking, mi cielo.”

"Amor," she pressed, her voice firmer this time. Her hand rested slightly on his knee, grounding him in a way that calmed and terrified him. "Please talk to me."

He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fell on her hand on his knee, her thumb gently brushing against the fabric of his jeans, and his chest hurt.

"It’s just…," he finally murmured, his voice low, almost resigned. He shrugged his shoulders, his lips pressing on a thin line as his thoughts turned. "I’m not feeling good enough for anything today. Ferrari dropped me for Hamilton, I signed with a horrible team… And there’s you."

"Me?," Sasha said softly, her fingers squeezing a little on his knee. He still didn't look at her, and that only made his heart hurt more. "What about me? I always thought you were enough, mi vida."

Without thinking, she reached out, touching his face gently, but firmly enough to force him to look at you. His eyes were cloudy, carried by a storm of emotions that Sasha could barely stand. “Carlos, look at me. Her voice came out firm, almost a plea. He blinked, surprised, as if he didn't expect that determination. "There is no way in hell I’d choose anyone else but you.." The words came out clear, unshakable, loaded with a truth that he seemed reluctant to accept.

Sasha sighed, moving her thumb gently against his cheek. "It was always you for me. I love you, Carlos. Only you."

Carlos didn't hesitate anymore. He pulled her to his lap, holding her waist as if he was afraid of losing her. His forehead touched hers, the breaths mixing, and for a moment everything around disappeared.

Sasha didn't let him say a thing. She couldn't. Instead, she leaned over, silencing him with a kiss. It wasn't soft or temporary - it was all Sasha felt for him, all the love and devotion that the blonde couldn't put into words. Her hands cupped his face, holding it tight while her lips moved against his, spilling everything she had at that single moment.

After they felt the need to breath, Carlos told Sasha every single thing he was feeling. How useless he felt leaving Ferrari, how undeserving of her love he felt, how much of a disappointment he felt he was. Sasha spent the whole night reassuring him of his fears.

He went to bed early, wanting to rest, while she was still on the couch, her laptop on her lap and her hands working violently against the keyboard. That night, Sasha decided that even if her engineering career went down the drain, she would follow him wherever he went. The next day, she called James Vowles, informing him that he could announce her hiring. For the same period of time that Carlos stayed.

In the last race of 2024, as soon as Carlos won a well-deserved P2 in Abu Dhabi, he ran to the barrier where the team was, his eyes desperate until he found Sasha. When he found her, he ran to her, hugging and kissing her, pulling her through the barrier and getting her in front of him. "Proud?" He asked, his voice hoarse from yelling so much at her and the team on the radio.

Sasha left her hands caressing the back of his neck, a smile bigger than the world stamping her beautiful face. "I love you so much, mi vida. I'm so proud, you deserve so much. We're going to rock Williams next year."

Carlos let out a muffled laugh, his hands letting go of her body and taking something in his pocket, a black velvet box, and kneeling. "I don't want to spend another day having to listen to someone calling you 'Miss Ivanova'. Marry me, mi reina. Today, if you want. Please. Let me make you happy forever."

That same night, with Max Verstappen and Lando Norris as witnesses of the marriage and Carlos Sr. delivering her in marriage, as a tribute to her father and his late best friend, Aleksandra Maria Ivanova became Aleksandra Maria Ivanova-Sainz.

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carlossainz55 happy to call you mrs. sainz for the rest of our lives. gracias por nunca renunciar a mí y amarme, la amo, sra. sainz. (thank you for never giving me up and loving me, i love you mrs. sainz)

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lando thank you for letting me be a part of this! i love you both so much 🤍

sashaivanova we love you landinho! thank you for being you

carlossainz55 greatest best man of all time!

maxverstappen1 i love you, big sis @/sashaivanova. tell this dickhead spaniard i’m watching him.

sashaivanova will do, maxie pooh! i love you ❤️ thank you and kelly (and baby p) for coming

carlossainz55 love you too, mate!

danielricciardo happy for you guys! thanks for letting me be a part of it liked by author

charles_leclerc so, so, so happy for you! alex is asking if you liked the present…?

sashaivanova we LOVED it! and i love her

In January 2025, Carlos announced that he and his wife, Sasha Sainz, were expecting their first child, expected to be born in June.

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carlossainz55 bebé sainz, junio de 2025. gracias por hacer realidad mis sueños, sra. sainz

(baby sainz, june 2025. thank you for making my dreams come true, mrs. sainz)

sashaivanova ¡te quiero más de lo que las palabras pueden describir! gracias por darme todo lo que quería. (i love you more than words can describe! thanks for giving me everything i wanted.)

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In the 2025 season, Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro, after turning Williams Racing into the strongest team in Formula 1, won his first world championship, with his racing engineer and wife, Aleksandra Maria Sainz by his side.

· · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ· ✧ · · ✧

lauren’s radio: guys IM SO SORRY for the late fic, i planned on posting earlier but things been kinda busy. ANYWAY, tell me your thoughts on it and if you guys want to see more of carlos and sasha! love you all

[the-offside-rule]

Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona) - Secreto

Requested: yes

Prompt: this ask

Warnings: mentions of injury

Pedri adjusted the collar of his new Barcelona jersey, feeling the weight of the photoshoot ahead. He rarely interacted with the women’s team, but today was different. They’d all been brought together to model the new 2024/25 jerseys. His mind raced, though, not because of the cameras but because of one person who’d be there; Y/n.

He’d met her briefly during his time at Las Palmas, back when they were both just kids with dreams. She was an incredible player, her talent undeniable, but what enchanted him most was her laugh and the way her eyes lit up when she talked. Back then, she seemed interested in one of his teammates, so he kept his distance. But now, fate had intervened. Y/n was back in Barcelona after her loan spell, and he couldn’t let this opportunity slip.

As he stepped into the studio, he spotted her instantly. Y/n was with her teammate Jana, the two of them laughing over some inside joke. Her laughter rang through the room, and for a moment, Pedri forgot how to breathe. Gavi nudged him. "Qué pasa contigo? Pareces un tonto." (What's wrong with you? You look like a fool.)

"Cállate." (Shut up.) Pedri muttered, his cheeks flushing. They walked over to the pair, and Pedri’s heart raced as Y/n glanced up at him. When she smiled, he felt his knees weaken. "Hola, Pepi." She said, her voice light and teasing. "Hola, Y/n." He managed to say, his voice quieter than he intended. "Estás listo para ser modelo?" (Are you ready to be a model?) Jana joked, nudging Y/n. "Y tu? Siempre pareces preparada." (And you? You always look ready.) Gavi shot back, making everyone laugh.

Y/n smiled over at Pedri, her gaze lingering just long enough to make his heart stutter. He felt like the world had tilted slightly on its axis. The director clapped his hands. "Vamos, chicos! Necesitamos que se vean naturales. Rían, hablen, pásenla bien." (Come on, guys! We need you to look natural. Laugh, talk, have fun.)

They were paired together for the first set of photos, standing side by side in front of the camera. Gavi and Jana stood off to the side, watching through the monitor. "Enntonces, cómo te ha ido desde Las Palmas?" (So, how have you been since Las Palmas?) Pedri asked, his voice a little shaky.

"Bastante bien. Aunque no pensé que te volvería a ver tan pronto." (Pretty good. Though, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon.) She replied, smiling. "Yo tampoco. Pero me alegra que estés aquí." (Me neither, but I'm happy you're here." He said softly, his nerves beginning to fade. Her smile widened. "Ah, sí? Por qué?" (Oh, yeah? Why?)

"Porque nunca tuve la oportunidad de hablar contigo antes." (Because I never got the chance tk talk to you before." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. She looked at him, slightly surprised but amused. "Eso es un cumplido o una confesión?" (Is that a compliment or a confession?)

"Ambos." (Both.) He said with a grin, making her laugh. The director called out again, encouraging them to keep the natural energy. Pedri gathered his courage. "Después de esto, te gustaría ir a comer algo?" (After this, would you like to grab some food?) Y/n’s laughter caught him off guard. His chest tightened, assuming the worst, but then she saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes and quickly clarified.

"Claro que sí! Solo no esperaba que tardaras tanto en preguntarme." (I just didnt expect you to take so long to ask.) She said, her tone playful. Pedri blinked, then broke into a wide grin. "En serio?" (Really?)

"Sí. No seas tan nervioso." Yes. Don't be so nervous.) She teased, her laugh softening any sting. They both laughed, the sound genuine and warm. The photographer captured the moment, snapping the perfect natural shot. Gavi and Jana exchanged knowing looks from behind the camera.

As the photoshoot wrapped up, Pedri leaned closer to Y/n. "Espero que te guste la comida que elija." (I hope you like the food I pick.) He whispered. "Seguro que sí." (I'm sure I will.) She said, smiling up at him.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The energy at Estadi Johan Cruyff was electric. The women’s clásico between Barcelona and Madrid was always intense, and today was no exception. Pedri sat in the stands with Gavi and a few other teammates, his heart pounding—not just because of the game, but because of her. Y/n. She was playing brilliantly, as always, darting across the pitch with precision and control. To the world, she was just another talented player, but to Pedri, she was so much more. The secret they shared made every stolen glance and subtle interaction all the more thrilling.

"Tranquilo, hermano." Gavi teased, noticing how focused Pedri was on her. Pedri didn’t respond, his eyes glued to the match. The tension peaked when a Madrid player lunged into a reckless slide tackle, sending Y/n crashing to the ground. Pedri stood up instantly, his heart in his throat. "Siéntate. Está bien." (Sit down. She is fine.) Gavi said, tugging at his sleeve. Pedri hesitated, his jaw tight, but stayed where he was—until he saw the stretcher being brought out. "No está bien." He muttered, brushing past Gavi. "Vuelvo enseguida." (She’s not fine. I’ll be right back.)

He made his way down to the sideline, ignoring the stares from fans and staff. His entire focus was on Y/n, who was now sitting on the pitch. But to his relief, she waved off the stretcher and began limping toward the sideline instead. As she reached him, Y/n glanced up and offered a half-hearted smile. "Pepi? Qué haces aquí?" (Pepi, what are you doing here?)

"Quería asegurarme de que estás bien." (I wanted to make sure you were okay.) He said, his voice soft but firm. As he helped the physio bring her into the dressing room.

The physio began examining her ankle, bending it carefully and asking her to do a few tests. Pedri stood close, listening intently. "Parece un esguince. Nada grave, pero necesitarás unas semanas de descanso." (Looks like a sprain. Nothing serious, but you'll need a few weeks of rest .) The physio explained. "Me aseguraré de que descanse." (I'll make sure she rests.) Pedri said without hesitation. The physio paused, grinning knowingly as his eyes flicked between the two of them. "Claro." He said with a small chuckle before walking away.

Pedri furrowed his brow. "Qué fue eso?" (What was that?) He asked, turning to Y/n. "Es que no hablo de novios con ellos." She admitted, shrugging. "Pero viéndote aquí y diciéndoles que vas a cuidarme, pues… ya lo saben." (It’s just that I don’t talk about boyfriends with them. But seeing you here and saying you’ll take care of me, well… now they know.) Pedri sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Lo siento. No quería arruinarlo." (I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess it up.)

Y/n grinned, her eyes softening. "No te preocupes. Solo el fisio lo sabe, así que estamos bien." (Don’t worry. Only the physio knows, so we’re fine.)

"Gavi lo sabe." Pedri admitted sheepishly. She rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t fade. "Por supuesto que sí." (Of course he does.) Pedri leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Te cuidaré. Te lo prometo." (I’ll take care of you. I promise.) She tugged on the oversized coat he was wearing, pulling him closer before planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Sé que lo harás." (I know you will). She whispered.

Just then, the door to the locker room opened, and her teammates flooded in for halftime. Y/n and Pedri jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Alexia smirked. "Es lindo, pero él tiene que irse. Tenemos trabajo que hacer." (It’s cute, but he needs to go. We’ve got work to do.)

"Sí, claro." Pedri stammered, his face burning. "Buena suerte." (Yes, of course. Good luck.) Y/n chuckled as he turned and hurried out of the room. The moment the door shut, her teammates erupted into laughter and teasing.

Meanwhile, Pedri returned to his seat, only to find Gavi and the rest of the guys grinning at him. "Qué?" Pedri asked, sinking into his seat. "Solo digo que estarás escuchando esto por semanas." (I'm just saying, you'll be hearing about this for weeks.) Gavi said, smirking.