#ugh bloody Barcelona

[everything-maxriemelt]

[emloafs]

ep by ep thoughts (ck s6ep4)

THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE EPISODE (iykyk). i haven't recovered from it. spoilers below!!!!!!!

EP4

You’re telling me the episode opens with hawks ugly ass American flag hair? Shut the hell up. and no one comments on it????

NO WORDS JUST THE SHOT FOCUSING IN ON DEMETRI OVER ELI’S SHOULDER LOOKING LONGINGLY LETS REPLAY THAT

“Each and every one of you has a shot” as its a shot of Anthonyy (Anthony does not have a shot xo)

“Its really only that 6th spot that’s up for grabs” “yeah and its yours for the taking” ELI BELIEVES IN HIM SM STOP

Sorry to say I eat my words the fab 4 will not all be making it, and neither will hawk, you can just tell from how overconfident they are

It is the way that my entire body is reacting to having average, every day content of binary bfs at school and its ruined by Eli’s FUGLY HAIR and HORRIBLE OUTFITS 

I do appreciate that demetri is still demetri and he’s like there’s an 18% chance of me making it and I know that so it is what it is academics over karate has always been my thing

“MIT cannot turn down the binary bros” OH NO MITS GONNA TURN DOWN THE BINARY BROS

I think Eli is having second thoughts about MIT or he thinks he won’t get in 

I love them being normal in high school!!!!!!!!! Cancel the karate half of the show I don’t need it

THE BABIES BEING FRIENDS THE BABIES BEING FRIENDS ANTHONY DEVON KENNY BROT3 AHHH

Idk how ep4 is gonna go down but it’s my favorite already 

The camera work is fire

Okay kiaz cartwheel… go off? Ig?

NATE YELLING FUCK???? IM DYING

“Mucles” “I HAVE A NEW NICKNAME!!!” This is Mitch’s season fr

Actually rooting so hard for demetri <3 call me biased

Kisses for baby Anthony throw him a bone

Anthony is SO TALL NOW?

“The power couples and hawk” honestly that’s the best way to describe them let’s coin that

Devon better be picked fr actually she needs a win and she’s better than most of them

NOT YASMIN SHOWING UP IN A MINI SKIRT WTF

Not me imagining Yasmine walking into the dojo and she just finds dem and Eli making out

Omg are they breaking up

“I’ve come as far as I can go, and I can live with that” that’s right dem and you’ve done great

“Youre breaking up with me?” “No!” Damn. So close.

Why does his girlfriend have to be the motivation ugh

“Just like MIT, you’re not going to Barcelona without me” LOVING MY HAWKMETRI CRUMBS THEYRE IN LOVE

“I didn’t apply” MMY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR GENUINELY

Eli doesn’t want to let dem down :((( 

Oh shit he’s gonna tell him and demetri is gonna be betrayed and kick his ass low key

I personally love capture the flag <3

Omg eli’s literally not gonna make it his head is in the clouds about college and demetri brother get it togetherrrrr 

If Anthony makes it to the tournament and not Eli im suing 

I am scared of barnes

Ok power couples saw that coming

JUSTICE FOR ELI IM GONNA THROW UP

Daniel is a bloody nose Anthony will be fine

Angsty Anthony idek what do with you

Oh god Johnny and barnes fight in a warehouse with power tools WHY just WHY

Oh I don’t like when demetri and Eli fight I hate this game 

Eli won’t hurt dem again and if they come to a head, and frankly demetri is going to destroy him

ELI NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO TELL HIM OH I WANT TO CRY

DAD AND DAD STOP FIGHTING I CAN’T TAKE IT I SAID I WANTED THE DRAMA BUT I WAS WRONGGGGG GO BACK TO BEING BACKGROUND CHARACTERS STOP THE VIOLENCE oh god im UNPACKING this scene later

Hawk buddy you’re fucked. Demetri is going to kill you. Honestly. I’ll start picking the flowers for your funeral.

Eli’s outfit sucks in this btw I need to speak to wardrobe

OH SHIT DEM FOLLOWED ELI THEY’RE FUCKED

No way… Kenny has the runs… this his sabotage.  That sucks literally that’s gross and embarrassing. You’re all dead to him.

IM SICK TO MY STOMACH ABOUT DEM AND ELI 

I JUST GASPED

I DON’T LIKE DARK DEM

HOLDING HAWKS ARM???? “How do you like it?!” IM GONNA THROW UP 

Eli loves him so much it hurts and dem is so mad at him 

I ACTUALLY AM SHITTING MY PANTS THAT DEM WON

IM CONFLICTED im really proud of my baby but dear god am I worried about Eli

Thank you writers for not making dm a background character <3

KARATE DADS CRUMBS: Anthony comforting hawk after he lost <33333 he’s like I hate when my dads fight fr

Devon obv put the laxatives in his water right… OH YUP it is now confirmed 

I like really actually cannot believe the hawkmetri fight…………… like……….. holy fuck did that just happen? The arm thing?????? Holy fuck

Why does it feel like they just broke up

Someone hold me.

(I enjoy the pain, though. Episode 4 IS my favorite.)

[stillthe1]

you KNOW it's going to be 8 and 18 combined for charlos. mwah. love ya ❤️

from these prompts, ask whatever u want and I'll do it 🩷🩷🩷

did it. hope YOU ARE HAPPY. 1500k of charlos. nsfw.

It was Carlos’ home race, and he had won. Fuckin’ finally, right?

The streets of Barcelona were alive, filled with people still celebrating the win from Barça, even though it had been weeks already. There were people dressed with Ferrari colors, too, and that made his heart stutter on his chest. A beautiful reminder.

He did it, won in Spain and took the glory. Max had to retire from the race, and Carlos saw his chance. Montmeló had always been bittersweet for him, the pressure almost creating claws across his shoulders. 

It makes him think of Charles. As anything does these days. Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, and what was that name? Who named their kid like that?

Well, in Carlos' head it makes sense. They knew they were naming a legend, il predestinato, the apple of everyone’s eyes or however the saying goes. The thing is, Carlos has won, he’s drunk and, predictably, he’s thinking about Charles.

It’s not weird, he tells himself, it’s not weird at all. Charles just has something about him that keeps everyone hooked, from higher-ups to their fellow drivers, to the fans to every girl that stumbles onto his life. 

It’s not jealousy, he does not need that type of devotion, does not need to have everyone at his beck and call. But, would it be that bad if it was Charles? 

Would it make it better if he could kiss Charles after one of the monegasque’s wins, and drink the glory from his lips? 

Sometimes Charles has the annoying ability to appear when you think about him, like that goddamned Bloody Mary. It’s scary, but an old joke across the drivers. 

Suddenly, there’s a french-accented voice whispering in his ear, and he has to steel himself. Que cabronazo, joder. He should come with a warning level – or many, really – “caution, sneaky little shit that enjoys hiding behind his good boy persona! don’t fall for it! sponsored by Max Verstappen and the inchident!”

“Hello, Carlitos. Havin’ some fun, huh?” Charles’ mocking tone could be heard from fucking Monaco itself, and ugh. Imbécil. “How does victory taste? Especially since it’s your own home race…”

Like you. Let me taste you too–

Fuck, the alcohol his friends had thrown into his hands (and mouth) had no registered ‘til now, and his tongue feels loosened enough to make him shudder. Maybe it will all unravel here.

He stabs his drink with the red straw, because of fucking course. Everything is red now, the straw, the blinding lights dancing across the club, Charles’ lips. The red string that had tied them from Sauber and McLaren into the incessant torture of Ferrari, too.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, cariño?” He smirks, voice dripping with a sickly sweet condescending tone. Carlos doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but he cannot stop his train of thought, even though it’s mean as fuck. “It has never happened to you, no? Keep chasing it, Charlie.”

He leaves Charles with that, walking away from him. It’s his night, his glory and his moment. And if he moves his hips slowly to the music while walking to the other side of the room, well, no one could blame him.

Funnily enough, he finds Lando, Max and Daniel drinking the night away. 

They are always the funniest trio. Lando who is always in his own world, showing off his new mixes to anyone that ever hints to it, and the so-called Maxiel duo (sue him, it’s funny) are constantly one upping each other at bursting each other’s personal bubble.

Carlos still doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if it’s just a bromance, or a bit of both? 

Something is going on with them, either way. The way Max’s eyes light up around Daniel is enough to sell the deal, and the smile Daniel saves for Max, soft around the edges, eyes shining like the prettiest stone, is enough for half of the paddock to collectively say “they’re dating, for fucking sure”, but they’ll never know.

“Carlitoooosss! Hi, hello mate!” The inimitable Aussie accent shakes him from his reverie, and he focuses on the drink Lando is pushing on his hands. 

The glass is cold, colder than any beer he has had for the past hours, and it calms him. He sniffs it, because Lando is young and way too trusting for his own good, and drinks the entire thing as soon as he smells the Jäger and Redbull combo. 

This is his night, goddamnit. No monegasque will ruin it with their pretty eyes, pretty mouth, pretty everything. No, nuh-huh. He will not think about him again.

As he opens his mouth to respond to Daniel’s enthusiastic greeting, a hand wraps around his wrist and tugs him strongly and surely towards the bathrooms. He can see Daniel’s bewildered stare, Lando’s scheming smile, and Max. Max who just mouths “good luck” to him.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

“Charles, what the fuck?

⋆

“What do you mean “what the fuck”, Carlitos? You really thought you could say that to me and leave me behind? For whom, the rejects trio? Oh fucking no, Carlos!” He can feel the anger build inside of him again, fueling him like it has always had. “You deserve the win, Carlos. But don’t ever say that to me, or I'll shut you the fuck up.”

Carlos looks at him with his patented confused stare, and it makes Charles want to scream. Throw something at him, maybe. He looks around the bathrooms, tries to find something to smack the life out of the spanish motherfucker–

“Oh, so you’ll shut me up? You? Fragile Leclerc? Or is that just what you play to the media, huh?” Carlos' voice is back to the condescending tone that made Charles want to punch him, kick him in the dick, and maybe kiss him a little. Fuck. “Poor Charlie, am I right? Our pathetic il predestinato!”

Charles can’t help it, cannot keep it in the back of his throat, hidden from Carlos, hidden from Ferrari, hidden from the world–

Charles fucking whimpers. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Fucking hell, out of all the places in the world, out of all the people in the paddock.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” His voice shakes, and he does too. He doesn’t know if it’s the humiliation, or the fact that it's Carlos. Who’s sweaty, with his fucking pretty face looking at him intently, and his prince hair sticking out in all different directions.

“Please, just shut up, Carlos.”

It comes out as a plea, more than an ask. And Charles wants to run, hide from Carlos and everyone that knows him. Wants to curl up inside a bathroom cubicle and find a bit of balance. 

Carlos never spoke back, ever. This wasn’t Charles’ cruelest work, but it seemed that with his win, he finally had something to hold above his head.

“Make me.”

And, what? 

“I said make me, Charlie. C’mon. What do you wanna do, huh? Puch me? Break my nose a bit? Leave your mark over my bod–” 

Charles doesn’t let him finish and kisses him. Right on the lips that have been torturing for years, even before Ferrari cursed them together. Charles kisses him, swallows the words out of Carlos’ lips and feels the victory flow through his veins again.

Carlos’ hands end up on his neck, holding him in place, and he can’t help but moan. Holy fuck, this was better than his dreams. The hands on his neck tighten as Carlos bites Charles’ bottom lip, taking a bit of distance. His brown eyes pierce right through the haze on Charles’ mind, and he shudders. 

Carlos is so fucking pretty. Feeling his nose across his own cheek makes Charles whimper, and he tries to break the hold on his neck, but all it does is tighten more and more. He feels lightheaded, his eyes closed and mouth open. 

“Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Please.” 

He begs, he shakes and struggles until Carlos obeys. Their lips meet again, and it’s better, way fucking better. It’s hot, slick and one of Carlos’ hands moves slowly from his neck to press down on Charles’ neglected cock.

Charles breaks the kiss, startled and horny as fuck.

“Carlos! Fffucking hell, oh my god.” His voice comes out as whimpers, and his hands try to find somewhere to hold onto. Involuntarily, they stop at Carlos' hair, and he tugs at it just to see Carlos moan against his ear. “Please, Carlos…”

Carlos smirks again, looking right at his eyes.  

“What if I give you a blowjob? Would you like that, cariño?” Charles’ breath stops, and the bathroom fades into the background. Holy fuck, he’s nodding before he thinks it through. “You could say it’s a favor. So that Monaco doesn’t sting that hard, pretty boy.”

Carlos tightens his hold on both his neck and his cock, and Charles' vision almost whites out. He’s not getting out of this alive.

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that leads up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 4: Independence

“Hey there Mrs F!”

Owen waved at her through the kitchen window. Jemma tried not to roll her eyes.

“Hello, Owen.” She said as cheerfully as she could in an attempt to mask her exasperation. “What brings you here for the fourth time today?”

Owen flashed his trademark grin that seemed to have some sort of hypnotic effect on her daughter. “I’ve got something to tell Alya.”

“Something you couldn’t have told her last time?”

“It’s important.” Owen insisted. “Please?”

Though she’d never admit it to her husband (who would undoubtedly flaunt it in her face), she was struggling to tolerate Owen Shaw too. At first, he’d seemed like a sweet young man; a little younger than Alya but still showing signs of strong, undying love.

However, since he’d found a job in Inverness he’d been visiting constantly and stealing her daughter away on various mysterious trips. And normally, she wouldn’t have a problem with that, except that he also stole away her time at home too.

That, and the fact that Fitz was right: he was a moron. A good-hearted moron, but a moron nonetheless.

“Fine.” She answered reluctantly. “But this is the last time, alright?”

Her words fell upon deaf ears as Owen was already racing towards the front door.

“ALYA!” He called, kicking off his shoes. “Alya guess what?!”

Alya poked her head out of the living room, beaming. “Back again? What’s wrong?”

There was a loud clanking noise coming from further inside the house, followed by a rather loud swear and Fitz’s voice shouting “GET OUTTA HERE YOU BLOODY YANK!”

Everyone in the house ignored this.

“So..?” Alya prompted.

“So,” Owen declared, taking her hands in his, “I just bought two tickets to Barcelona!”

A wide smile began to crack onto her face. “What- really? You’re being serious?”

Owen wore his own goofy grin. “You bet! Booked a bunch of fun stuff to do too, so it’ll be really embarrassing for me if you don’t agree to come, haha.”

His expression was earnest, and Alya playfully slapped his arm. “Of course I’ll go, silly!”

“Go where?” Asked Jemma, emerging into the hallway.

Owen jumped. “O-Oh, Mrs Fitz-Simmons…”

Jemma felt her eye twitch at the fact that now he chose to address her properly. When he wanted something.

“Go on then, where are you going?” Jemma repeated sternly.

“W-Well, uh…”

“Actually, Mum,” Alya stepped in, “Owen’s taking me to Barcelona for my birthday.”

And that’s when Jemma couldn’t stand it anymore.

She turned on her heel and stormed away towards the living room with only a small motion for Alya to follow, which she did, leaving a very dumbfounded Owen to wonder what he’d done to make her snap.

“Mum!” Hissed an annoyed Alya once the door was shut behind them. “What are you doing?!”

“Hey, if you’re going to yell can you try and keep it down, I’m watching football.” Fitz said from the sofa without taking his eyes off the TV. Both of his hands were gripping onto a beer bottle tightly- that’s how you could tell that it was a close game. Alya made the most of the distraction opportunity.

“Who’s winning?”

Jemma snapped her fingers. “Excuse me, young lady, I need to talk to you.”

“Nice try, princess.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Jemma straightened her posture. It was an old habit of trying to assert dominance over Alya, who she knew was probably far smarter than either herself or Fitz. “You made other birthday plans?” She asked. “What about our beach picnic?”

Alya mimicked her mother’s pose. “What about my own life?”

Jemma gasped.

“Listen Mum, you and Dad aren’t exactly subtle when it comes to Owen, and I appreciate that at least you make an effort-” she glared at her oblivious father- “but things are really working out with him so far. I really love him and I can tell he loves me too. And we can always go to the beach next year! This year, I want to go to Barcelona with him.”

She relaxed herself to gauge her mother’s reaction. Jemma was still stiff.

“And look,” Alya continued, “I promise that after that I’ll spend a lot more time with you.”

Jemma finally relaxed as well. “Alright, sweetie. It’s your birthday, and if you want Owen to take you to Barcelone then I won’t stop him. I just don’t want you to get your heart bro-”

“OWEN’S TAKING HER WHERE?!”

When had the TV been turned off?

“Barcelona.” Jemma smiled meekly.

“No he’s bloody not.” Fitz grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go tell that wan-”

“Dad!” Alya called, causing Fitz to stop. “Please. It’s just one year, and it’ll count as my present. Please.”

It took him a moment, but soon Fitz sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t say no to you, princess.”

Alya smiled triumphantly. She had been counting on it.

“Just answer me this,” he said, “where the hell is he getting his money from? Surely a waiter doesn’t earn enough for an, ugh... romantic trip to Barcelona.”

In truth, Alya didn’t know. She knew it was something to do with his family, but Owen had always been very secretive when it came to his family. It was the only thing she doubted about him.

“His parents are pretty rich.” She lied.

“Uh huh.”

“Soooo is it still a yes?”

All three faces turned to see the man himself hanging out of the doorway. Fitz and Jemma simultaneously glared at him. Alya chuckled.

“Yes. Whatever my parents say, it's still yes."