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[justabasicace]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

[justabasicace]

marcmarc part 3: man this kid has weird feelings towards valentino...and marc

Listen girls since this is a crackship imma just go wild with the 2024 season to fit the "plot" so Marc and Bez are title rivals here.

marc being cool about using his relationship with vale as dirty talk AU

part 1

part 2

Qualifying

A small mistake on the last corner and he's starting P5 tomorrow. Fuck. Could've gone worse of course but could definitely have gone better. He had gotten a tow behind Bezzecchi who had qualified P4. Bez had seemed just a bit out of sorts ahead of him, Marc thinks. Maybe he's been scrolling my instagram again. Marc had upped his shirtless pictures game during the season, always making sure to dedicate them to his "biggest fan".

In the evening the younger man materializes outside his motorhome, angry fists banging on the door. Haven't we done this exact thing before and didn't Bez have to flee with his tail between his legs then, Marc thinks, recognizing the angry bangs immediately. He opens the door and sighs. "Hello Marco, did my instagram upset you aga..." Bez cuts him off.

"You fucked me in qualy! I would've had pole if you hadn't fucking done what you always do! You always do this and of course the stewards aren't gonna do anything to the great MarquezTM." Bez is fuming. "You did this to Vale and now you're doing it to me. Fuck you. If you think that you can cheat your way to another championship..."

Marc looks at him confused. Yes, the gala was a while ago but surely Bez couldn't have forgotten. Or...Bez could be trying to pretend he didn't get a very obvious hard on just from Marc talking to him in that bathroom. Both options are equally bewildering. He can't possibly believe that Marc won't just do the same thing again. Also, this exact situation is what started this entire thing. The only reasonable explanation is that Bez is trying to regain the upper hand. Which, of course, is not going to happen. It's hilarious how Bez worships Valentino and yet has learned nothing from the master of controlling power dynamics.

"Bezzecchi, really? I..." The Italian shoves him back into his motorhome and slams the door behind him before forcing Marc further into the room. The Spaniard gets ready for a fight. He's pretty sure Bez can take him but he's not going to make it easy for him. But Bez just stares at him with fire in his eyes. This amount of anger seems extremely excessive but right now Marc has to try to control the situation.

"Bez, come on, I understand you're angry but you still qualified p4 and ahead of me. This is not worth it." He tries to relax his muscles to give out a calm vibe and try to cool Bez down.

"Fuck. You."

"Okay okay, I know you don't like me and that's fine." Marc starts to slowly circle Bez in an attempt to get closer to the door. "But attacking me physically won't help you at all in the championship."

"Me attacking you physically?" Bez stares into his eyes. "You attacked me! You cornered me at the gala, acted like a slut and fooled me into...into..."

Wait, what?

"Wait, what?" This is a plot twist he didn't see coming. Marc is sure that laughing will only make Bez even angrier but right now he has to use all of his strength to hold it in.

"You manipulated me! You forced these thoughts into my head and now I can't...can't concentrate." Bez looks down on the floor, the anger seemingly abading.

"Okay Bez, I see. Here is how it is: you came to my motorhome after Valencia and pretty much told me outright you enjoyed my...what did you call it? Slutty instagram pics? I'm sorry but you started this. Don't come here and yell at me just because you like looking at my tits." Marc watches the fire rising in Bez' eyes again but at least he's pretty sure that fighting is off the table for now.

"You're doing this to me so you can win the championship!" Bez yells, which, fine, Marc has to admit to himself that that's at least partly true. But he also found it really hot.

Bez takes a step towards him and continues: "You're manipulating me exactly like you manipulated Vale! You whored yourself out to him and then you fucked him to help Lorenzo!"

"That's absolutely not..." Stop. You're not going to let this kid use Valentino against you. You're not going to have this ridiculous argument again, especially not with goddamn Marco Bezzecchi. Marc is sure that Valentino didn't put these thoughts into Bez' head. He has said a lot of awful things about Marc but he would never weaponize their relationship like this, which means that Bez has made this up all by himself. But why? Then it hits him like a brick: Bez is jelous. And probably also conflicted. Jelous of him or Valentino though? Who knows with this kid. Probably both.

He decides to try to turn this situation around and relaxes his face, widens his eyes and focuses on Bez like he's the only person in the entire world. He takes calm but deep breaths, not moving anything but his chest and opens his mouth just a little. Bez responds immediately to this display of desire. His eyes darken. It's hilarious how well this works. Marc moves slowly towards him and the other man stays perfectly still. There's electricity in the air and Marc can see Bez' heart thundering in his chest as he speaks:

"Vale this and Vale that." Marc moves further towards the Italian, closing the distance between them. "Do you want to know what I think?" He kisses Bez softly on the cheek before leaning in towards his ear. "I think you would've loved to watch." A mewl spills from the younger man's lips in response. I knew it. Conflicted indeed.

"You came to yell at me again and again we end up here with you hard in your pants from my presence alone. What is it that you want me to do exactly?" Marc asks, pulling on the thick curls. Bez looks into his eyes but doesn't respond. Marc twirls his finger. "Should I tell you what I think you want me to do?" Bez stays silent but nods in response. "I think you want me to come closer." Marc lightly presses their bodies together. "I think you want me to kiss you." He leans forward and gives the Italian a quick peck on the lips. Bez shivers and lets a shaky breath pass through his mouth. "I think you want me to touch you here" Marc puts a hand on his chest, "and here", he licks at the other's neck, "and especially here" he cups him through his pants and Bez melts into his touch with a whine. Marc keeps stroking him through the fabric. "But really Bez, what incentive do I have to make your wishes come true? Sure, this is fun and hot but this concept is getting old. You get angry, you call me names, I turn it all around by seducing you, you get hard, we don't have sex in the end...how many times are we going to do this? Don't get me wrong, it's fun and all but I'm getting bored of the repetitiveness. Try something else next time."

He stops stroking Bez and takes a step back. Bez says nothing. Marc sighs. "You're very sure of yourself for someone who can't even admit to himself what he wants." He moves towards the door to encourage Bez to get out. "I guess I've already admitted that I find this thing kind of hot and your obvious desire for me is sexy but I'm not feeling it unless you figure yourself out. Now please leave and don't show up here again with your anger. I won't open the door. Go jerk off to my instagram instead next time."

Bez takes a deep breath. Then another one. He keeps his eyes on the floor as he speaks: "Maybe I could come back later and not yell at you."

Marc rolls his eyes. Goddamn this kid is perplexing. So full of anger and desire directed towards Marc and yet so conflicted and shy. "Maybe. Let's see how it goes tomorrow in the race. Now get out of here."

Bez steps outside. "Fuck you Marquez."

"We'll see about that loverboy." Marc closes the door before Bez has time to answer.

-------------------------------------------

Elation, bliss and most of all: relief. Finally. The crowd goes wild as he passes the finish line in P1 blowing kisses into the grandstands. The king reclaiming his crown. Celebrations follow and Marc forgets about Bez as he parties the night away.

Two weeks pass until the next race weekend. Marc is relaxing in his motorhome after a day of media when suddenly there's a knock on the door.

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COWBOY MARC and special helmet for COTA ✨️🦅🇺🇲🏍

from verticallink's instagram

[justabasicace]

au where pecco is outed and out of all people who reaches out to him (besides the academy obv) is marc marquez?? that guy??? the devil incarnate?? but he isn't that bad actually when he's not being a cunt on track... marc is friendly and gets him even if he's actually a bit weird... unlikely friendship occurs. and then pecco discovers marc is also gay?!!! so maybe he starts to flirt a bit... okay listen he might be a girl-failure but he also does understand when a man is hot he's only human. he tries his little patethic moves. and marc flirts back... and people start to notice this thing happening and pecco knows it can't go anywhere he doesn't even want it to go anywhere but he's having fun he's having his awkard girl moment but as i said people start noticing and it gets transformed into a big thing TM where they start speculating on Marc's sexuality and their actual relationship... anyway valentino's liver explodes from jealousy in the distance while this happens but he can't ask pecco about it because 1) that's his favourite daughter and 2) he doesn't care about marquez at all (he cares so much he's turning green from envy)

it ends as rosquez btw. because i am a common bitch

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marc marquez praises are drugs to me. inject that shit to my vein.

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So I am rewatching Argentina 2018 just for giggles, also because you posted about it recently.

And. Wow. Yeah. All the bad omen sirens flashing right from the comical start delay. Committing grid crimes as if the world and officials cant see.

Commentators going - Marc is gonna be angry, marc needs to be careful (when Marc hadn't even started his black widow strut), marc just needs to be patient. Immediately followed by Marc shoving Aleix off. Getting penalized and having to give back a position. But he was in the middle of creating havoc among 5 riders and dint know which position he had to give back. Like. Imagine. Having to apologise for slaying someone but you slayed so bad you don't know which one you need to apologise to. I don't know if I am embarrassed for Marc or the riders. Marc with the kill bill siren in his head just bullying his way up.

The commentators just alternating between "marc needs to calm down" & "this is bloody carnage". It's so funny because the commentators are actually rooting for Marc, "Marc just needs to be careful and keep the pace, he can easily get 5 if he keeps it clean". Marc just hitting fastest lap times at p13.

"these are just sitting ducks in from of Marc"

"marc moving past them as if they were standing still"

Marc just bearing down the grid like the spectre of riders worst grid nightmares. Vale just minding his biz, having himself a race. Here comes a raging scrappy ant.

I unfortunately stayed on to watch the end, witnessed Uccio shooing away Marc, broke my heart a bit

Argentina was just a no good, sad, bad day for Marc.

Was it Marc's fault, yes. Does every rider have such a day, yes. Is it an excuse, no.

But it reminds me of when Enea caused that incident and Marc was the only one who said, it happened, it's fine, he will learn from it. The grace to understand. But maybe he is harsher when it's himself impacted.

Has anyone committed race crimes against Marc? Cant quite recall how he reacts. Has he called anyone a danger to the sport or something equally harsh? Or has he always been the messiest queen on the grid.

people commit on track crimes against marc and he turns into jimmy buffet. hes suddenly chilled out on a beach in a loose linen shirt with his perfectly smooth legs tanning in the sun he is CHILL. brewski in HAND ugly sunglasses ON. like i think marc is ACUTELYYY aware that he would be a hypocrite to go after people for on track crimes so he defaults HARD to the "this is racing" doctrine. it protects him to be this way! a political stance. like for instance jorge martin ends marc's last race with honda by doing extremely stupid shit and he SWAPS HELMETS WITH HIM right after. like he knowssss how he is on track, he doesnt pretend. and also i think thats just kind of how he's built! able to understand that on-track is on-track and thats that.... which is kind of crazy, because he has so much empathy for when people commit on track crimes against him (he KNOWS he would do the same) but not when they get mad at him for doing track crimes unto THEM. i think its a mix of self protection and also just being very very crazy <3

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Once again waisting every waking thought on a Rosquez soulmates!AU in which you actually get bruises and physical aches, when your soulmate says something bad about you with the intend to harm.

This is also how Marc realises, that he and Vale are actually soulmates, because as if everything isn't shit enough already after Sepang 2015 it just gets worse and worse, because everyday there is a new bruise, reminding him, that his soulmate hates him.

Marc spends most of his life with aches and bruises after that time, until they become somewhat civil again between 2016-2018 Argentina and there is only the occasional bruise, all forming somewhere during the day, never late at night. After that it gets even worse than it was in 2015. His entire body is covered at some point, making him weak and keeping him from training.

Alex is worried out of his mind of course and demands to know who is doing that to him. But as stubborn as Marc is, he won't tell and anyways, Marc knows, that Alex has a good guess. Whenever he sees a new bruise on his brother now, Alex searches through Valentino's recent interviews. More often than not, he finds something.

Marc knows, that Alex knows, but he also knows that his brother knows, that it is probably a lost cause to go to Vale and ask him to stop.

Valentino never found a bruise on himself that 'didn't belong'. That's why he's so sure, that Marc isn't his soulmate. Because surely, there would have been things said. Surely.

That's also why he is so shocked, when a completly livid, but also desperate looking Alex Marquez one day storms into the VR46 garage falls onto his knees and nothing but begs him: "Honestly stop. You are killing him."

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aesthetics for my motorsports fics ➖ apprivoise-moi

Marc half sits-half leans on the stool, keeping his eyes on the ground as Fabio walks behind him, Alex by his side. Marc is used to his brother moving his limbs around to go with his vision™️ and Marc goes with the flow as Fabio’s arm is wrapped around his chest, forearm right under his collarbone. Marc’s left hand gets positioned around Fabio’s arm, a little above his wrist. “Keep your arm there, alright?” Alex instructs Fabio. “Higher and you’ll strangle him. I know it can be tempting at times but please wait for the end of the shoot for that. Only if you’re good at hiding bruises afterward.”

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what if we kissed on the marc fabio ride!!!!

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guys i've seen the script for the 2024 motogp season

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Continuation of the marcmarc thing from yesterday.

Part one here

Lights out Gala, Valencia 2023

After two glasses of free champagne Marc's mind starts to wander. Someone once told him that Bez has a nipple piercing. At least he thinks someone did. An image of closing his mouth around the pierced nipple and hearing a guttural moan from above him flashes through his mind and he notices a stirring in his pants. Maybe Bez was right. Maybe I am a slut.

Bez is...reasonably attractive, he thinks, in a 2am at the club way. Also, he can't deny that he likes Italian men. Usually older Italian men, sure, but maybe he could make an exception. The thought makes him laugh. No. He is not going to crawl into bed with Marco Bezzecchi of all people. It would certainly piss Valentino off though, which of course would be hilarious. Wait a minute. Maybe this isn't strictly only about him. Maybe it's also about Bez having a confused crush on Valentino. After all, all of this began with Bez being irritated about the fact that Marc and Valentino used to, well, fuck. Interesting, he thinks, saving the thought for later consideration.

Anyway, Marc's not the kind of person who would use someone as a pawn in a personal vendetta. He's definitely not above using his attractiveness to rattle Bez a little though, especially not if it means gaining an advantage on track.

He scans the room for the familiar mop of hair and finds him talking to Valentino and Pecco in the middle of the crowd. Bez is gesticulating wildly, angrily and Marc realizes that he might be talking about him. He keeps staring until the Italian notices his gaze and their eyes lock. Marc bites his lower lip and winks at Bez, who seemingly loses his train of thought in the middle of a sentence. Valentino and Pecco turn to see what made Bez stop talking and Marc quickly looks away. He's not going to help Bez explain his suddenly flustered cheeks.

About an hour later he enters the bathroom and finds none other than Marco Bezzecchi washing his hands. Marc catches him freezing solid for half a second, probably trying to decide his next course of action. But, of course, Bez is too proud to try to back out of this and Marc is not about to pass up this golden opportunity.

"Good evening Bezzecchi", he greets, looking into the Italian's face in the mirror, "you seemed upset before, did something happen?" The look on Bez' face is priceless. His anger is clear, sure, but the darkening of his eyes tells Marc everything he needs to know. Bez turns the tap off and swings around to face him, back pressed against the sink.

"None of your business Marquez." There's a slight nervousness to his voice.

"Are you sure? To me it seems like it's exactly my business." Marc moves towards him, slowly and carefully at first, but when Bez doesn't move he closes the distance between them.

"Piss off stronzo. I thought I made myself clear before; I hate you. I have no interest in making friends with you." The heat radiating from Bez' body betrays him and when Marc licks his lips he hears Bez hiss.

"Oh really Bez, you hate me? Maybe you do, but I think I know what you would like to do to me." Marc leans in and their bodies are so close now. The small space between them seems to tremble in anticipation. Bez puts his hands on Marc's hips and Marc lets him. He even lets him grind against him once and wow, Bez is clearly interested in the situation . Marc has to admit that it feels really hot to be wanted in such a wanton and obvious way. The Italian's ragged breaths caress his cheek as he leans into his neck.

"I'm very flattered by how hard you are for me Bez. Do you think about me when you're alone? Maybe you like to picture me in a bed with you? Maybe even with someone else?" And Bez honest to god moans at his statement. Marc is a bit suprised by how easy this is. Suprised by how sexy he actually finds the whole situation.

"But I would never let you fuck me Bezzecchi." He feels Bez shudder against him and he nuzzles even further into the curls. "But I promise I'll post some extra slutty pictures just for you since you seem to like them so much." Bez inhales sharply through his nose and Marc leans back just a bit so he can face Bez again. Their lips are only millimetres apart and a whimper escapes Bez' open mouth. Marc looks into his eyes as he speaks:

"See you out on track loverboy"

He leaves a flustered and woozy Bez in the bathroom and returns to the party outside. Bring it on, he thinks. Next season suddenly got even more interesting.

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"I hate you Marquez, you're the worst fucking thing that ever fucking happened to this sport".

The words are slurred but heartfelt and Marc regrets opening the door. He should have seen this coming after what happened in the race earlier, should've guessed who was banging with both fists on his trailer door.

"I am aware of how you feel about me Bezzecchi."

"You destroy everything! I wish you would've never come back."

Marc sighs and looks up into the darkening sky. He doesn't care about what Bez thinks but he would rather not stand here getting yelled at by some drunk VR46 kid after his last race with Honda. Valentino should have trained his dog better, he thinks.

"Okay Bezzecchi thank you for voicing your opinion, I'm going to close the door now. Please leave." He starts closing the door but before it shuts completely he hears Bezzecchi muttering something under his breath. He must have misheard but he can't help himself.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Bez tries to look him straight in the eye but his drunken gaze is hazy and unfocused. He grabs hold of the railing to steady himself before repeating himself, clearer this time:

"I can't believe Vale fucked you."

Marc stares at him, speechless. Why would Bez know about this? Did Valentino tell him? Has he told all of his boys? Is he just guessing? Before he has a chance to gather himself enough to formulate some kind of answer, Bez starts speaking again.

"I can't believe Vale fucked you of all people. You! A dirty fucking cheater! A small goddamn fucking Spanish slut!"

Marc has to hold back a suprised giggle. Is this actually happening? Did Marco Bezzecchi just call him a slut?

"Did you just call me a slut?" Marc fights the smile threatening to spread out over his face.

"Yes!" Bez sways a little as he keeps holding on to the railing. "Showing off your fucking tits on instagram, your tiny little shorts...it drives me fucking insane Marquez. Stupid fucking..."

Marc interrupts him. "Those are some harsh words for someone who's clearly enjoying the content. I think Valentino likes it too, don't you?" He can't help himself. This is too good.

The absolute shock and horror on Bez' face that follows his statement forces Marc to swallow hard to avoid a howling laugh. This is hysterical. This is by far the best thing that has happened today.

"Absolutely" Bez hiccups between the words and his face gets impossibly red, "fucking not. Also I hate your instagram and I never check it."

"Hmm I don't know Bez. I'm pretty sure you do. Pretty sure you check it a lot."

"I hate you Marquez. Fuck you." Marc finally releases the smile he's been forcing back and he winks at Bez before answering:

"You wish loverboy. See you around!" Bez responds with a hilariously indignant look before clumsily turning around and stumbling down the stairs.

Later, while getting ready to leave his trailer he snaps a shirtless picture just after showering, making sure that the droplets shine on his muscled chest under the bright bathroom lights. He posts it with the caption "met my biggest fan today!". Innocent enough to not raise any questions, clear enough for the intended recipient to understand. He smiles. What started as angry bangs on his door turned out better than he could've ever imagined. He can't wait to tell Alex about this.

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pecco already spoke, there is no sanction, it was simply a race situation and yap he gets it he have 0 time to react

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Books I Read in 2023

#28 - Unrivaled, by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James

Rating: 5/5 stars

Six stars, eighty stars, a thousand stars. Book #2 did not prepare me for what an actual enemies-to-lovers pairing would look like from this author team, and it is stellar. I love these two precious idiots and their hilarious dynamic. Grady is the grumpiest of grumps who doesn't realize he's even friends with Max until he's already deeply in love, he's just too invested in maintaining his prickly exterior to realize what's going on underneath. Max is a silly, adorable pest who realizes much earlier on that he's wildly in love with Grady and must keep that fact from Grady at all costs so he doesn't get his heart smashed to pieces when his feelings are inevitably not returned. Watching them fumble their way through the complications that come not only from playing on rival teams, but being regarded as personal rivals (the terms "nemesis" and "archnemesis" get thrown around occasionally, though both parties insist it's not that serious) means they not only have to mesh their lives together, but their public personas. When the twists and turns of the plot finally get us all to that happy ending, I really was happy with how it all turned out, and I immediately started a reread because I wasn't ready to leave this happy place where queer hockey players (including some side characters this time!) get to fall in love and be better people in the process. I'm caught up with this series now aside from the holiday novella I need to go back for, but I dearly, dearly hope there are more stories coming, because I will absolutely read them all.

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Little Girl Gone - CHINCHILLA