#but who knows. i can barely keep up with what's going on in PR news anymore

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[lancestrollsgf]

# THE BETTER NORRIS ! F1 GRID X ADOPTED NORRIS! READER, SMAU

introduction master list request list

part one, part two, part three.

# WARNINGS : cussing, i know nothing about the parents of lando so everything is fictional. lowercase intended, spelling errors (english isn’t my first language). lando's actual siblings are not really mentioned in this since I don't know anything about them. reader hitchhikes. an excessive usage of emojis such as “🙄, 🤫, 😝, 😭,😊,😉”. reader is 17 in the story btw (the age isn’t really mentioned so i guess you can imagine it however you want)

# SUMMARY: the adventures of the formula one driver lando norris adopted sibling, y/n norris.

# AUTHORS NOTE : this is my first smau (that i’m posting). there’s no meaning behind this story i really just wanted to make it for fun. backstory for how reader (you) were adopted is not explained. reader is kinda of portrayed as bisexual, sorry only like three times. pretend lando is a soccer/football fan (and likes messi). some of these scenarios/comments actually happened to face claim.

# FACE CLAIM : marian guevara/theatomicbabe on instagram (i love her so much)

VOTE FOR FUTURE LOVE INTEREST (now closed)

— instagram !

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 529,289 others

thebetternorris visited jamaica once again, spent every moment with the children and made memorial memories that i will remember forever, thank you @junglenonprofit for making this event happen🤍🇯🇲

landonorris: very cool hair style in the last photo is that your new look?

-> thebetternorris: maybe it is. you should also try finding a new look instead of looking like a washed up mop you have on your head that you call curls

-> carlossainz55: ay no, she got you with that one 🤣

-> landonorris: I WAS LITERALLY BEING NICE. WHY DID YOU COME AFTER ME??

landonorris: since when did you go to jamaica???

-> thebetternorris: since two days ago, man keep up with the times 🙄🙄

maxverstappen1: y/n does your mom know you’re in jamaica??

-> thebetternorris: no.. don’t tell her, she doesn’t have instagram 🤫

-> ciscawauman: y/n norris.. you said you were with friends for this week?

-> thebetternorris: hi mama 😊😊 im with bsf/n. but im on my way home! (max emilian verstappen this is all your fault, im coming after you)

-> maxverstappen1: sorry y/n.. hi mrs.wauman!

-> ciscawauman: hello max 👋 y/n please don’t threaten someone through comments

username1: y/n’s interactions with the drivers will never fail to make me laugh

username2: i love you y/n!!!

username3: will forever appreciate how y/n is not pr trained. her posts and comments heal me

-> mclaren: that will change very soon, sadly.

-> thebetternorris: @.mclaren YOU WILL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE

lewishamilton: good work, little norris, very proud of you, keep doing good in the world 🥰

-> thebetternorris: I LOVE U SIR LEWIS

-> lewishamilton: love you too

-> landonorris: lewis please ignore her

username4: y/n’s reply to lewis’ comment is so real

username5: the third picture is so cute 🥹

view all 5201 comments

april 21, 2024 (dates are for the post above ^^)

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 661,201 others

thebetternorris 🍸🪩🌃🍾

landonorris: who is that guy in the last photo?

-> thebetternorris: i have no clue, i js chose it because i looked good. i think he was trynna lure me into a cult?

-> landonorris: WHAT?? CALL ME RIGHT NOW

username4: you can always rely on y/n to never disappoints with her outfits 😫😫

oscarpiastri: how come you never invite me to party out with you?

-> thebetternorris: because you steal all the girls and guys too 😕😕 also you’re too old

-> oscarpiastri: i’m barely 23??? and thank you or sorry idk man, you confuse me

username6: y/n’s life is so entertaining

username7: i wanna be like y/n when i grow up

username8: my goal in life is to party like y/n does

view all 6229 comments

april 25, 2024

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, girl3, and 786,929 others

thebetternorris no caption 🌞 👤: @.girl1 @.girl2 @.girl3 @.guy1

girl3: i had so much fun y/n see you soonnn

-> thebetternorris: me too! see you soon 😊😊

-> landonorris: y/n what is this???? what do you mean see you soon???? ANSWER MY CALLS Y/N

landonorris: who are those girls and guy on the last two photos???

-> charles_leclerc: leave your sister alone, as if you weren’t doing crazy stuff this week either 🤣

-> thebetternorris: @.landonorris they have names you know, you shouldn’t just call them “those girls”. i thought mama taught you better. 🤨🤨

-> landonorris: @thebetternorris sorry..?? but you didn’t answer the question.. also please @charles_leclerc don’t expose my doings of this week onto the internet

username9: you’re the loml in a another universe 😔

-> thebetternorris: why not this universe 😉

-> danielriccardo: damn little norris has more rizz than her brother 😭 @.landonorris

-> landonorris: why do i keep getting attacked 💔

username10: having the caption as “no caption” is having a caption

-> thebetternorris: 🤓🤓

username11: does y/n like girls cause that third photo is a bit suspicious LMAOO

-> username12: i think so, especially because of her response to oscar's comment on her previous post

view all 3620 comments

april 27, 2024

liked by landonorris, newyorkcityfc, and 887,292 others

thebetternorris thank you @.newyorkcityfc for inviting me to document the New York City fc vs charlotte game. visiting the new york city fc game made me want to try out soccer, turns out it might be time that i change career path 😝

landonorris: you’re in new york??? since when. and @.newyorkcityfc just invited you???

-> thebetternorris: since two days ago and is that an insult?

-> landonorris: who are you staying with?

-> thebetternorris: man stop asking so many questions 😕

charles_leclerc: weren’t you in jamaica like less than a week ago?

-> thebetternorris: weren’t you in china less than a week ago? why you judging where im traveling, i don’t judge you. you literally fly somewhere each week for your go karting 🙄

username13: y/n’s post are so unpredictable each time 😭 she was just helping children in jamaica and is now at a soccer game in nyc

-> thebetternorris: gotta keep y’all on your toes 🤫

-> username13: toes 🤤

-> thebetternorris: NAH GTFO LMAOOO

username14: y/n becoming a soccer player when??

username15: all of the norris siblings are so talented

view all 2928 comments

april 29, 2024

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 997,929 others

thebetternorris miami grand prix day 2 & day 3 🤙. found out some guy with the same last name as me won? idk but congrats @.landonorris

username16: dang her brother just won his first race and she doesn’t even make a post about him?

-> username17: for real, like everyone congratulated him right after but not even his own sister

-> username18: @.username17 well she is adopted 🤣

username19: it was so fun meeting you y/n!!!

-> thebetternorris: thank you pretty

username20: thank you for the water y/n 😊😊

-> thebetternorris: of courseee, had to give you that rich voss water 😉😉

-> landonorris: you gave a stranger water?? when?? you were with me the whole time???

-> thebetternorris: hey man you gotta start appreciating the people that support you, he was a worker ✊🏼

username21: hey i was the guy you were signing “way 2 sexy” with lolll

-> thebetternorris: AYY MY MANNN, i posted u on tiktok look at it 😉

jamescharles: omg i met you!! you’re gorgeous 🥰

-> thebetternorris: JAMESS HEYYY, i put you in my tiktok 🤙🤙

username22: omg you hugged me, remember i picked you up 😭

-> thebetternorris: I REMEMBER YOUU, that hug was great thanks man i needed that 🫵🏼 posted a full tiktok abt you

username23: your first outfit is so art teacher-coded

-> thebetternorris: is this a compliment or?? thank you though 😭

-> landonorris: @.username23 THATS WHAT I TOLD HER

landonorris: the number of people commenting that they met you is insane. @thebetternorris

-> thebetternorris: what can i say i'm js that guy 😼

view all 6282 comments

may 5, 2024

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 1,000,010 others

thebetternorris congrats to @.landonorris for winning your first grand prix, in america 🦅🇺🇸, i’m so so proud! turns out having an adopted sister isn't so bad for your racing career after all 😜. btw to everyone in the comments section getting their gears all tangled because I didn't congratulate him sooner, chill out. I was busy practicing my own racing skills. yk, just in case he needs some real competition 😴 sorry @.maxverstappen1. i’m so proud of you, i'm forever grateful that i got picked from the “bin” i was found according to you 18 years ago, and it resulted in me being your sister :) 👤: @.landonorris @.oscarpiastri

landonorris: thank you for the congratulations, but did you really have to use those photos of me?

-> thebetternorris: damn you got your congrats just be grateful man 🙄

oscarpiastri: so this is why lando was crying, btw thank you for using a good photo of me

-> thebetternorris: OSCAR ARE YOU SERIOUS. @.landonorris YOU CRIED?? LMFAOOO

-> landonorris: @.oscarpiastri YOU SNITCH.

maxverstappen1: thank goodness you’re not a f1 driver, you’d be some real competition. we need to try go karting together soon 👍🏼

-> thebetternorris: i know this is a joke but thank u max 😔 we should go karting soon so i can beat you at it 😈

-> username24: i would pay to see y/n kart against max

username25: i don't even know anything about f1 but this made me tear up

username26: y/n getting hate for not congratulating her brother is insane

username27: people getting mad about y/n not congratulating lando as if they know anything about them

username28: y/n was one of the first people to congratulate lando, yall are hating a literal kid for smth so little 💀

view all 4593 comments

may 7, 2024

liked by landonorris, leomessi, 1,102,920 others

thebetternorris pov that one unemployed friend on a tuesday (saturday). thank you @.mles for the invite and for letting me meet the goat @.leomessi 🩷🩷

joyboy: finally found someone that is everywhere like me

-> thebetternorris: paris fashion week next 😉?

-> landonorris: NO???

username29: IS THAT LIONEL MESSI??

-> thebetternorris: that’s literally oomf what are you talking abt 🙄

ueername30: y/n is literally everywhere but home

username31: y/n's smile 🥰🥰

carlossainz55: Real Madrid CF>>>

-> thebetternorris: carlos get outta here 😕😕

username32: te encantaría ser un hombre nunca lo vas a ser y eso es lo que te jode (you’d love to be a man and you’ll never be a man and that fucks with you)

-> thebetternorris: @.username32 me encanta ser mujerrr (i love being a womann)

-> username32: @thebetternorris pues lo disimulas fatal (well you hide it well)

-> thebetternorris: @.username32 que es ser mujer para ti? (what is being a woman to you?)

-> username33: SHE GOT YOU THERE 💀@.username32

landonorris: you meeting messi before me insane 😔

leomessi: gracias por tu apoyo 🩷 que chistoso la caption 🤣 (thank you for your support 🩷 how funny the caption is)

-> landonorris: oh you’re joking.

-> thebetternorris: @.leomessi 🩷🩷 (i’m so normal abt this..)

username33: i wanna be y/n's camera man

username34: who is taking these pictures of y/n

-> thebetternorris: for this game, some guy named jarvis took these photos idk but we're homies now

-> landonorris: WHO IS JARVIS???

view all 12920 comments

june 5, 2024

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 1,293,021 others

thebetternorris i look sunburnt, swear it's just the lights 👤: bustarhymes

bustarhymes: it was nice meeting you little norris

-> thebetternorris: it was great meeting you man, your music is great

danielriccardo: mate i think you need a new cameraman because most of these are blurry...

-> thebetternorris: my pictures look better than yours, you're letting your jealousy show

landonorris: nah bro how did you meet busta rhymes before me.

-> thebetternorris: because i'm better than you

username35: you dead ass look like han jisung omg

-> thebetternorris: thank you, idk who that is but i get that a lot 😭

username34: y/n looks so much like young miko it’s insane

charles_leclerc: you look scary in the first picture

-> thebetternorris: i saw your paparazzi picture from the beach, your shoulders look scarier, learn how to put on sunscreen 😬

username36: y/n’s style is so 🥰

view all 5934 comments

june 30, 2024

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 1,304,393 others

thebetternorris back at the big apple 🍎🏙️

itsyoungmiko: hi twinn

-> thebetternorris: hey twin, we should meet up soon

lancestroll: how do you travel everywhere?

-> thebetternorris: walking and hitchhiking

-> lancestroll: hitchhiking? be safe norris

-> thebetternorris: yea hitchhiking. not all of us have private planes that our daddy pays for🙄(just joking, love u @lawerence_stroll pls give me money)

-> lancestroll: your brother literally flies private. please don't ask my dad for money 😭

lawerence_stroll: hello y/n, how much money do you need?

-> thebetternorris: HI MR.STROLL, thank you for the offer I was just joking, you're so nice. see you at the next gp 😊

username37: who is that on the last photo?

-> thebetternorris: THATS ME. LMFAOOO

username38: ain't no way you're in new york city rn, you were in florida a day ago.

-> thebetternorris: that's what hitchhiking is for, duh

-> username38: you dead ass hitchhiked a ride from florida to new york city. that's like 20 hours...

-> thebetternorris: “that’s like 20 hours…” ☝🏼🤓

username39: are you gonna go to the british gp?

-> thebetternorris: yes sadly 💔 lando is forcing me against my will 😕

oscarpiastri: don’t forget my keychain pls

-> thebetternorris: ofc man ill give it to you soon 🤙

zhouguanyu24: very cool pictures y/n and cool outfit

-> thebetternorris: HI ZHOUUU, i got you something for you and sweet corn 🥰 thank u for the compliment 😙

username40: future mom lore is gonna go insane

-> thebetternorris: 😈

landonorris: y/n are you ever not in the US. come back home..

-> thebetternorris: USA 🇺🇸🦅🦅

-> logansargeant: USA USA 🇺🇸🦅🦅

-> landonorris: @.logansargeant logan please don’t lure my sister into your cult that you americans have

-> logansargeant: @.landonorris we don’t have a cult in america 😭 well… don’t quote me on that 😔

-> username41: “you americans” is crazy 💀

view all 4402 comments

july 1, 2024

comment to be tagged in the next part 🤫🤫

[rukunas]

angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)

“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”

You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”

“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”

“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.

Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”

“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”

You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.

So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…

Buzz.

Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me

Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.

The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.

“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”

“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”

“He’s busy.”

He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.

“Would you—” He starts.

“Can I—”

Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.

“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.

“Come with me. For dinner.”

“Me?”

Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”

“Okay.”

“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.

“Why would I say no to free dinner?”

“I never said I was paying.”

“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.

“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”

“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.

Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…

Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.

With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!

You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—

?? What gift?

You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.

The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.

[riality-check]

TW: past verbal and emotional abuse

The Harrington house is a game of perfection.

Steve has known this fact for as long as he can remember. There is a right way, a narrow way, a rigid way, of doing things. Numbers dictate all: rebounds, points, and assists for basketball, new PRs in freestyle and backstroke for swim. The numbers themselves do not matter; all that does is that they grow and shrink appropriately.

Infinite growth is not sustainable; not for Steve's stats, not for Richard's stocks. Both of them strive for it anyway.

The house must be clean. The parties can't be busted. The people of Hawkins will only say good things about the Harrington family. Gloria strives for these things, day in and day out.

The Harrington house is also a game of Perfection.

Steve hated that game growing up. The one with the little yellow pieces and the blue board. He was never able to get all the pieces in the right spot before the board spit them all back out.

It made a ticking noise, like a time bomb. Steve doesn't know when he started associating that sound with his parents.

It fits. It fits almost too well. They're fine, at least for a little while. The ticking starts quiet, then grows louder and louder until everything blows up.

The thing is, in Perfection, that the board blows up even if you put all the pieces in the right spots in time. The thing is, in the Harrington house, that everything blows up even if Steve does everything right.

The ticking lasts for days sometimes, weeks others. It's impossible, random, and impossibly random.

The only consistent thing is the board blowing up. And when that happens, so does the shouting.

The Party thinks that Tommy and Carol taught Steve to be cruel. That they're the ones who taught him how to bare his fangs and spit venom. That once he left them, the rage left him.

He's okay with letting them think that. It's easier than explaining that Richard and Gloria are the ones who taught him how to snap and shout, how to tear holes in other people with a few well-spoken barbs.

When Steve thinks of his parents, he thinks of fighting. He thinks of his father calling him useless and his mother calling him an idiot. He thinks of his mother calling his father dirt and his father calling his mother a bitch.

There are never any apologies. "I'm sorry" is never said in the Harrington house, even when the board gets reset.

They say "I got you pizza for dinner." "I saw this at the store and thought of you." "Do you want to come with me to get gas?"

And with that, the ticking starts up again.

Horrible things are said when the board blows up. Steve says horrible things when the board blows up. He's called his father an asshole and his mother self-absorbed and apologized without any apology at all.

He cleaned the pool instead.

Steve doesn't want to the board to blow up in the middle of the Munson trailer. It's why he's keeping his mouth shut while Eddie yells at him.

"What the hell, Stevie?" Eddie shouts, arms flying. "I told you that you can’t do that!"

“You told me you don’t want me to,” Steve says, staying calm and measured.

Calm and measured. Not blowing up. Steve isn’t going to snap or shout or bitch. He isn’t.

“Fucking semantics!”

“They were saying-”

“I don’t care what they were saying!” Eddie roars. “I don’t give a shit what they say about me!”

It’s true. Wayne calls Eddie “Teflon,” says that nothing sticks to him, least of all anyone’s opinion. Steve knows that Eddie doesn’t care about what most people in Hawkins think about him.

But he cares very much about what the people who care about him think.

Steve can say a whole lot of things right now. He’s angry, physically biting his tongue to ground himself. He can say a whole lot of things to cut Eddie to the bone, to end the argument and then some.

But he won’t.

Love is knowing how to hurt someone and choosing not to. It’s using a knife to split an apple to share instead of to cut skin to ribbons.

Steve can’t trust himself not to slash Eddie open. He says awful things when everything goes to hell like this, snaps back hard when snapped at first, operates purely on instinct.

He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I care that you could have gotten hurt when you swung at those assholes,” Eddie continues. “I care that I wasn’t there with you when you defended yourself. I care that you won’t let me take a look at your hands and make sure they’re alright.”

Steve squeezes the knuckles of this right hand in his left. It stings, but he’s fine. Nothing broken. He knows from experience

“Stop it, you’re hurting yourself,” Eddie barks.

Steve lets go of his hands, lets them hang loosely at his sides.

“So, what the hell, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, still loud, still snappish.

A variety of terrible answers surges to the front of Steve’s mind. Eddie’s biggest insecurities, the things he’s only told Steve when he thought he was asleep. Ways to wipe the anger off his face and replace it with stuff easier to manage: shock, hurt, sadness. Things he would say if he didn’t particularly like Eddie, if he were still in high school, if he were still in his parents’ house.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He keeps the knife in its drawer. He closes his eyes tight and breathes in once, then again.

“Hey,” Eddie says, softer.

Steve opens his eyes to find him a step closer, hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

Oh.

Well.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that.

He’s said it before. Of course he has. He knows the words, knows that he needed to say them to Dustin and Robin and Max, and he has. He’s stepped too far with jokes and forgot about some things and missed some things they’ve said.

But he’s never yelled at them. They’ve never yelled at him.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Eddie isn’t supposed to apologize. He’s supposed to clean Steve up or make him dinner or invite him along to go grocery shopping.

And Steve was supposed to snap back.

“It’s okay,” he says because that’s what he’s supposed to say, yeah?

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It was bound to happen.”

Eddie stares at him, big doe eyes shining, like he has five heads. It makes Steve want to put his bloody hands behind his back, make him shrink.

He swears he can hear ticking, but the board just reset. Didn’t it?

“What?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I got scared, but that doesn’t mean I get to yell at you. That’s not okay.”

What does Eddie get to do, if not yell?

I deserve it, Steve thinks, but he’s smart enough to know that saying that out loud will just lead to another fight.

There’s been barely any time to put the pieces back.

Steve doesn’t get it. But, he figures he’s always been a little slow on the uptake, so he can watch. Observe. Figure it out later on his own. He’s pretty good at that.

“Okay,” Steve says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he holds his hands out for Eddie to take.

He’s dragged along to the sink, where Eddie rinses the cuts out with cool water before bandaging them up with the remnants of a box of Band-Aids from the bathroom. When they’re dry and finished, he presses a kiss to each knuckle, feather light.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking at Steve very seriously.

“Me, too,” Steve says, voice a little hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

It feels good to say. It feels good to mean.

Standing there in the kitchen of a trailer in Forest Hills, looking at the mismatched furniture and half-full ashtrays of the living room, holding hands with his boyfriend formerly accused of murder and apologizing for the first time and meaning it, Steve feels like he can finally breathe.

The ticking has finally stopped, and silence sounds so sweet.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 4)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies if this isn't 100%. i wrote this in between travelling to japan to attend suzuka. and then i got sick and couldn't even go lol.

P4 - L-sits and pull-ups

Charles Leclerc was known for being a nice guy. 

All the boys knew it. Lando experienced it when he saw how Charles was genuine with service staff whenever they went somewhere. Alex had experienced it in how Charles treated his family, leaving the F1 boys to spend time with Arthur whenever F2 joined the schedule - or when his mother visited the Paddock. Whereas George had just done a quick FaceTime to his mother on Mother’s Day, Charles had sent Pascale Leclerc a luxury basket with a surprise yacht trip and a massage.

“She was having a bad week.” The Monegasque reasoned when the boys found out.

Pierre’s PS5 was a result of Charles’ kindness; sourcing it for his upset friend who had missed the drop. Max's apartment was a result of Charles' kindness; helping him look for places in his home city for the Dutchman looking to buy property in the foreign Monaco. Max owed Charles a lot.

If not for his apartment, then for his F1 seat.

Mercedes were taking too long. Charles knew someone at Red Bull's junior team who could help him score an interview with Helmut Marko. And when you told Charles to stop being so nice to Max after all the drama that happened in F2, he shrugged and said it was the nice thing to do.

So you, a Torro Rosso trainer, helped Max Verstappen with an interview.

Because Charles was kind and he asked you.

And there was nothing you wouldn't do for Charles Leclerc.

Charles’ circles especially were all aware of you before he even joined the grid. It was just that sort of thing. Everyone knows everyone in motorsports. All those boys had seen you hanging around him at the karting races. Were it not for the stark difference in appearance, some might’ve thought you were family. Some did. Because for the longest time, that’s what you and Charles were. Family.  

You were always there for him. You celebrated him when he won. You supported him when he didn’t. You were always the first person he went to when he finished his race. Not his parents, not Jules, not anyone - you. 

He would come to you and you would quickly repeat some key English phrases for the interviewers who would surely come for him. You would pat him on the back and offer a warm smile - no matter the result - and offer some feedback based on what you saw. Performance was your speciality after all.

Then, after everything, you guys would finish with a homemade plate of your pancakes. No matter what. That’s how it went and how it would always go. 

Until 2018.

That had been a shit fucking show of a year. The rookie trio had been super confused when they finally arrived at F1 and saw you dressed as Hospitality. Charles gave no answer to Lando, Alex or George, no explanation to why he barely acknowledged you. It had been Pierre, the one who had been there through it all, who had quietly explained to them what had happened.

For a while, Alex had a hard time talking to Max when he found out. 

Charles hadn’t been surprised that the grid had found out. Nothing ever stayed a secret in this fucking place. NDAs were a joke. The whole agreement between him and Charlotte had been unearthed by some lower ranking Ferrari employee who didn’t know how to keep shut. Then again, Charles had expected it to come out eventually. Half the drivers were dating for PR anyway. 

Ferrari were already on his case about finding a new replacement, a pretty girlfriend for him to post boyfriend material pictures with so it can ‘increase his numbers’ with the female fanbase. Since Drive To Survive had done well to popularise the sport with a whole new demographic of F1 fans, teams were trying to capitalise on this as much as possible. Charles quietly suspected that this was part of the reason why Ferrari approached Carlos.

That and they probably wanted to get rid of Seb as quickly as possible after he found out what happened between to you and raged.

Though, Charles could understand Seb’s stance on it. He himself was conflicted about it, half the time unsure if he had made the right call to listen to Mattia. He had just been hurt and upset and his father had just passed away and the press had been vicious and Charles was just desperate to fulfil his dream of getting the coveted seat. 

Well, your joint dream. 

It had been the dream of the both of you. It was why you worked just as hard as he did. You had taught him English. He had taught you Italian. He networked and raced. You built cars and trained. He had helped you get a job in Torro Rosso. You had helped him get a seat in Alfa Romeo. 

Which, of course, led to him getting a spot in Scuderia Ferrari. 

Except by the time he was putting on the red, you two were no longer speaking to one another. Or, he was no longer speaking to you and you finally accepted he had cut you off. Gone were the days where he was searching the crowds for your face, rushing to you after the race finished.

Five years ago, he stopped eating pancakes. 

He knew you still made them, of course. And not because pancakes had been your everyday breakfast since you both turned fourteen and you started weightlifting and tracking your macros. He knew because he had seen some Alpine reserve driver eating them. 

His name was Oscar Jack Piastri. F2 Champion who also won F3 and the Renault Cup. He had more trophies than anyone else his age. For a moment, Charles thought it was because you back training drivers and were working with him.

Arthur later refuted this when Charles was grilling him that no, you weren't training Oscar Piastri. You actually hadn’t had much interaction with him when you would come down to F2. 

“Does this mean you’re talking to Y/N again?” Arthur had asked, assuming that’s why Charles was asking about you. “Can we be friends with her again?”

“No.” 

“You know maman still doesn’t believe what happened.”

Charles was known for being a nice guy, but he hung up on his brother. Charles really was one of the kinder drivers, but when Alex told them about the tweet, he had scoffed and sneered. When Oscar Piastri himself arrived in orange and held his hand out to greet the nice Monacoan driver, Charles glared and kept his arms crossed. Fuck this. He was not going to shake Oscar Piastri’s fucking hand. 

Even though, deep down, Charles knew there was no need for this. Arthur had confirmed that Oscar really was just a really talented driver - Y/N hadn’t trained him. This was no Max Verstappen situation.

Moreover, it wasn’t like Charles was in Daniel Ricciardo’s position.

If it weren't for the million cameras recording the first meeting of the two Australian drivers, Charles could only imagine Daniel's reaction to the rookie. It was one thing that Oscar essentially took Ricciardo's seat.

The other was that everyone had seen him with you.

Admittedly, Daniel had a reason to not want to shake Oscar’s hand, Charles could reason. Even if he still thought Ricciardo was an espèce de putain merde for what he did to you. 

Still, Charles couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t explain it. He didn’t need to. The grid had so far understood it perfectly fine; you don’t go near Y/N. When Logan had joined the grid, Alex had the good sense to quietly fill him in on what had happened.

Why the fuck couldn’t Lando do the same?

Which brings us to right now: Bahrain 2023. A control unit failure meant a DNF for his first race of the season. When is this bad luck going to end? Charles retired his car, managing to make it past the McLaren garage on his way to the Ferrari red at the end of the Pit Lane.

It was just as well that his car was slowing to a stall. It meant that he managed to catch a glimpse of the McLaren garage - and the naive Australian rookie stood with a plate in his hands, very clearly eating some pancakes. 

Charles almost drove into a mechanic. 

It was 3am. $uicideboy$ was playing through your headphones. You weren’t wearing any shoes. 

This could only mean one thing: you were doing calisthenics. 

Your arms were shaking slighting as you bent your elbows and tucked your legs in before straightening them. Your grip on the parallette bars was slipping but you engaged your core tighter, hoping to keep balanced as you straightened out your legs and held the L-sit position. 

Oscar had DNF’ed on lap 13. The media was already going wild with questions about his decision to ditch Alpine for McLaren and whether or not this was just karma. McLaren looked horrible. Even his teammate had finished 17th. No matter your feelings on the young Brit, even you had to admit Lando Norris was a decent driver. 

During the course of pre-season preparations, wind had carried the gossip that Zak Brown had revealed the car to the team earlier this year with a sub-par level of enthusiasm. Whilst it wasn’t uncommon for cars to arrive at Sakhir with plans for future upgrades… you hadn’t thought it would be this bad. For McLaren. At this rate, the MCL60 was looking like a back of the field car. 

What’s more the team was struggling. One only needed to look at their qualifying session to see how bad it had been. Engineers giving mixed reports. Oscar’s radio not working and getting out in Q1. Lando getting mixed tyres and getting out in Q2. A whole ass clusterfuck, in your opinion.

And Daniel had been there, smiling smug whenever the camera decided to pan to the Red Bull garage.

The song changed in your headphones. Your arm strained. You dropped, fell forward. Cue the stream of expletives that would’ve made even Guenther blush.

You knew that going to the gym after the race had finished up - a night race that - was going to mess up your sleep schedule. However, you were too wired after everything to go to sleep. You needed the dopamine rush. There was too much going on for you to process any other way.

Because, firstly, you needed to get rid of the image of Daniel’s smug smirk that was currently etched into your brain.

You had skipped your post-dinner protein shake and had your coffees black today. You had started your session with a series of HIIT sprints on the treadmill before you did as many pull ups as your body would allow. It had been quite some time since you had done calisthenics training so religiously but you were already internally creating a new program for yourself. 

That is, you were already mentally preparing for the cut you had decided to undertake the moment Daniel Ricciardo had walked into the gym after finding out he'd lost his seat. And blame you for it.

You pushed yourself up off the ground and came to your parallette bars again. You grabbed each one and then lifted yourself up again. You closed your eyes and willed your brain to focus purely on the lactic acid running through your body. 

Because, secondly, you were stressing more than you should about Charles’ DNF.

You had watched the testing sessions carefully. You always did. Always keeping an eye out on the red car with the black T cam. Charles hadn’t done too bad but, obviously, it was hard to give a genuine judge. Everyone always sandbagged.

For example, Red Bull didn’t look as strong in testing, but then came out on race day and finished as they did. You could be happy for Max, especially since Jos was in attendance and knew just what that meant… but you also knew how it would look for Ferrari that Carlos had finished fourth and Charles hadn’t even finished the race. 

The car did look strong through. That was evident by how Ferrari had done in qualifying. Charles had out qualified Carlos, a narrow Ferrari 3-4 behind a Red Bull 1-2. However, your former childhood best friend had a bad luck streak unlike anything you had ever witnessed. 

And even though the word ‘former’ was in the equation, you never liked seeing Charles like this. Even if he was likely the reason no one in the grid spoke to you anymore.

Well, until now.

Because, thirdly, Oscar Piastri threw a spanner in the works.

You knew how it was going to look. You knew. It was one thing for you to interact this closely with a driver. It was another thing entirely for you to unofficially train him. However, as Zak Brown had found out, there was no way you could be allowed to join McLaren as a performance trainer for Oscar.

When the young driver had filled you in about his meetings with Zak Brown and his particular stipulation, you called him an idiot and told him to sign. When Oscar filled you in about his new plan to be able to work alongside you through all the loopholes his father's lawyer found, you called him an idiot and told him it wasn't worth it.

"I beg to differ. If you don't want to, that's fine. But not because of whatever drama happened."

He knew the drama. It was impossible that a team principle had looked into having you as his driver 's trainer and not found out what had happened. It was also impossible that Oscar Piastri, former Prema driver - as in, former Arthur Leclerc teammate - and current teammate to loose tongue Lando, didn't know about you and Charles.

You had honestly just waited for the moment he would bring it up. He never did.

Because Oscar, you were coming to learn, was far more level-headed and mature than most the drivers on this grid. And he was so young. You didn't want to see anyone fuck that up. You really, really didn't.

Still, you said no.

Then a week later you saw that fucking tractor make him DNF.

You leaned forward and brought yourself down into a handstand, counting to ten before bending your elbows and lowering yourself slowly. You lifted yourself up and then tucked your legs once more. Your whole body was shaking more and more know but and you fought to breathe through it. You finally lowered yourself and let out a deep huff. Whilst you weren't pleased with how out of practice you were, you were a little pleased that you finally managed to lower yourself - instead of falling down.

You looked ahead at the mirrors and then saw a familiar face of the driver walking into the gym. Oscar dropped his gym bag near yours and went straight to the treadmill to warm up. You kept your eyes on him as you held yourself up on the parallettes and watched the young driver fiddle with his phone and earphones before starting a light jog.

You took a moment before you pulled yourself up and went over to him. Oscar met your eyes as he continued to jog. He pulled down earphone but you said nothing as you pressed the button to increase the speed. Oscar raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"45 seconds on. 15 seconds off. 20 repetitions." You said. Oscar nodded and put his earphone back in. You shook your head. He frowned and pulled them down.

"You don't drive with music so don't play anything." You said. "Feeling something in your ear needs to become second nature."

He nodded and you went to his phone and pressed pause. Then you made a voice when you noticed that Ed Sheeran was playing.

"Don't judge me." Oscar said.

"I am. You're working out to fucking Ed Sheeran." You responded with a scrunched nose. Oscar shook his head, smiling slightly, but said nothing else. In the silence, you observed his form and counted his breaths. You noticed slight irregularity with his inhale and exhales and immediately pulled him up on it.

And so you spent the rest of the night training Oscar Piastri.

By the time you both finished, and he gave you a tired and sweaty high five, the clock read five thirteen in the morning.

< prev ch [3] | next ch [5] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19

[fanofseabassanddorito]

Dear Chris Evans,

I’ve waited and watched. I’ve gone back and forth with Real vs PR. I’m just a fan, of your work, but I also because of what you seemed to stand for and acted like a real person. I think I’m done now.

There has been questionable ‘sightings’ even though you claim to want to be private. Your friends and hers have posted the two of you. You have posted her twice yourself. But then you seem to hide her. That isn’t a good look. If you are in love with someone, you don’t hide them because you want to be private yet leak photos and hints to keep your fans spiraling when you know how some can be.

We all know celebrities use social media for what they WANT fans to see. Why? Because they want privacy, as they should, to separate their work world from real life. I completely agree with doing so, BUT I don’t agree with going back and forth. You owe fans nothing except maybe the respect that goes both ways. After all, your fans have been the reason you have your paychecks. I think we deserve a little bit of respect not to be played by what you say in interviews vs. what you show yourself to be through your actions.

There are so many examples of couples being private but NOT hiding significant others like they are embarrassed to be seen. A real private couple does things together but do not post montages on their socials, like scare videos and couples pictures. People do not call paparazzi unless they want to be seen. A real private couple does still go to things together, they don’t hide but they don’t bring attention to themselves. Real private couples do not let things drop during a special date for something else. One example, the NYC pap walk on the day that Warrior Nun season 2 dropped right after SMA.

Tabloids run on things they are given. There have been more articles about you and this girl than Harry and Meghan, Jennifer and Ben, etc., etc., etc. your reps have never confirmed anything. IMDb does not list her as your wife. Your mother liked a tweet about the girl being racist.

I had no issues at first, thinking you wanted privacy, which I thought was a great idea, given your fandom. I gave you the benefit of the doubt for a good while. But then it seemed like her friends and yours, her mom, along with the likes on IG, proved this isn’t private. Certain social media sites have been the only ones to randomly get these pictures that are nowhere to be found. It’s only a few, and they usually come at specific times when there is doubt. Friends posted from Lisbon, Avengers in MA, and the wedding rumors began. I’m sorry, but when there is an NDA, then the wedding news should not have leaked because the NDA would cover that. And if you have to ask people to turn in their phones to attend, that’s rude and you’ve invited people you don’t trust.

Showing up to a convention, with a ring on but you can’t say her name. Just ‘Go Portugal!’ And then go on about Dodger.

Let’s not even get into photoshopped or not photoshopped because I don’t even know anymore.

I could go on and on but it saddens me. I cannot be a fan of someone just because of their projects, and that’s just me. I have kept quiet, because it’s none of my business what you do with your life. What is my business though, is who I give my hard earned money to. Barely getting by on what I make, medications and food for my kids continue to rise in cost, but they also enjoy Captain America because he seemed like a good guy in real life too. Now they come to me with things they’ve seen online like Captain America’s new wife nude in the shower. They have seen people posting about her friends and their previous tweets, and things they’ve said. Why? Because you have played games with your fandom and they got pissed and exposed things. Let’s be honest, kids get online and see things even if they aren’t supposed to. Luckily they didn’t see your ‘slip’ up, because your fans cleaned that for you quickly, but the shower pictures continue to be passed around. They also said in some of the pictures they saw you post that they thought you had a daughter but found out it was your girlfriend.

I would make sure you don’t have any more slip ups because I feel like your fans are limited at this point. The ones that see your work the day it comes out. That’s one reason why Ghosted flopped. Before this, your fans would have said you did wonderful even if you didn’t.

After the new picture of the two of you at the Globes after party, I CHOOSE to not be a fan and hand you my money. I know it isn’t much, but I will choose to spend it on a different movie or person at a convention. Maybe I just won’t have a favorite anymore because it seems like a lot just tell fans what they want to hear.

I don’t know if it’s Real or PR and don’t care but it’s the game you seem to be playing that I don’t like. I don’t care what people think of my opinion and have not posted anything about a side. I just know you look like such a hypocrite and lose fans by the hour now. So many blogs and pages that are team PR or Team Real and they argue over who is right and wrong, because you and everyone around you are playing with them. You are using them for free publicity and that is sickening. I didn’t believe it was happening and you were just trying to protect your love life. But, eventually, it was just so obvious with the tiniest bit of things creeping in on the same sites and coincidences on dates. Mostly, I just don’t want to watch all the drama that has become part of being your fan. I like to escape the real world by looking at my favorite celebrities and what they are up to or their movies etc. I don’t want to see the gross mess you have become. She looks like your daughter, so I choose to leave. You don’t know me or care because I’m just one fan, but I do know who you want people to see you as now and I don’t like this version. Be private or just don’t hide. Look happy, not miserable. Treat her like your love and wife, because I would never allow my boyfriend/husband treat me the way it appears you are treating her. To the public, she looks like a mail order bride that jumps as soon as you tell her too. It’s gross.

So, it’s been a long, fun ride being your fan until now. Enjoy traveling back and forth and wear sunscreen to the beach, because boy are you white. Research the word ‘privacy’ and maybe get those NDA’s to the people leaking things if you want privacy or take their phones from them when they are in your proximity. Invest in energy drinks next, she’s a lot younger and likes to travel and have sex (maybe check out her soft porn). Let Buddah know she did a film with a demon having sex with her. Maybe purchase a plane and get a pilots license, because older dogs don’t travel as well as they age and that’s a long ride to Portugal. Remind your wife to keep her clothes on and keep your 🍆 in your pants because I think Team Real is even over this mess and don’t want to see it. Thanks for the laughs and smiles over the years. I wish you luck and hope you’re happier than you actually look.

Sincerely,

An Ex-Fan of Christopher Robert Evans

[muxshwriting]

my good luck charm

Carlos Sainz x Indian!reader

summary: everyone is looking at Carlos at his home gp to win. but Carlos isn't bothered by the pressure, he's too busy looking at you || word count: 1092 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader : Carlos and Indian reader meet at Spanish gp and he is mesmerised by her

It was utter chaos. Everyone was looking at Carlos as the homeboy hero of the Spanish GP, saddled with the expectation to win his home race. He had been dragged from interview to interview by his PR manager but all he wanted to do was have a moment to himself to breathe and relax before the race. Yes, he was driving a Ferrari, one of the top performing teams of the season and Carlos had been one of the few drivers to win a race so far.

You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life in the F1 paddock. You'd been invited by your agency as a PR stunt for your new modelling campaigns. You were infamous, one of the most successful models of your time. Not only were you stunning, you cared about real issues. You were trying to work towards a brighter future, focusing on issues such as climate change and poverty across the world.

Carlos was stuck at yet another interview where they asked him the same questions as the others. He replied with the same generic answer he'd given everyone else, casting his mind away from the interview and subtly glancing around the rest of the paddock to see what was going on. It just so happened to be when you were walking past the interview pen, locking eyes with Carlos.

Whatever answer he was giving began to come out stuttered as Carlos stumbled over his words, utterly captivated by you. The world seemed to slow as you waved at some of the fans scattered next to the track, laughing at something one had said. God, why did you have to laugh like that? Carlos could barely breathe. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that, no one else, just him.

"Carlos? Hello?" The interviewer was trying to get his attention and Carlos begrudgingly looked away from you.

"Sorry." He quickly apologised. "Can you repeat the question?"

★--~-~--★

Ever since catching your eye, Carlos had been searching for you in the paddock. No one seemed to know who he was referring to (given the sheer number of celebrities on the grid) but it didn't dissuade Carlos. The race was a couple hours away as Carlos weaved his way through the garage before being stopped by his race engineer.

"Carlos! I think media is looking for you to meet some ambassadors for sponsors and stuff." He explained, pointing to the office area.

"This can't wait until after the race?" He was distracted enough already, he didn't need to add simpering up to sponsors to his list.

His engineer simply shrugged. "Sorry man."

Carlos sighed, takes a deep breath and then makes his way to the media manager's office. To his surprise and shock (and delight) he sees you quietly talking to someone else. Also to his delight, he sees you wearing a ferrari jacket you didn't have earlier, a jacket that had his driver number plastered on the back.

"Hello." Carlos internally kicks himself for just saying 'hello' to the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

You're first to introduce yourself. "Hi! I'm Y/N, an ambassador for Ray Ban. It's really nice to meet you considering I watch you race almost every week-" You seemed to cut yourself off from rambling on after meeting him.

Carlos only grows more lovestruck. "No problem. You'll be watching today?" He assumed you were but wants any excuse to keep talking to you.

"Yeah." You offer him a small smile. "You'll do great, I'm sure."

"You think?"

Your smile only grows. "Oh yeah. I'll be cheering you on."

"I'll make sure to win for you." He sends you a wink that has your cheeks warming at an alarming rate.

He's pulled into conversation with a few other ambassadors but continues to catch your eye from across the room. Eventually, he's pulled back down to the garage floor to get ready for the race and has to say goodbye to you.

You go for a hug that Carlos greatly welcomes. "Good luck." You whisper to him. "You'll do great."

You end up in the back of the Ferrari hospitality, anxiously watching the race. Carlos started on the second row, working his way through the front runners and navigating a risky pit stop strategy by his team. He had taken the lead of the race six laps from the end, holding off Verstappen until the end of the race and finishing in first place.

The garage went nuts, mechanics jumping up and down with glee. You could hear the crowds cheering for their driver's win at his home circuit and joined in with the celebrations. You find yourself swept with the crowd as they rush down to the podium area to watch the cars arriving. Carlos jumped straight out of the car and into the arms of his team. As the adrenaline began to wear off, he caught sight of you standing by the side of his engineers.

Your face held a look of awe as he walked closer. There were a few stray tears (of joy) in your eyes as you hugged his tightly. "I told you you'd do great."

"All for you." He confessed, pulling away and seeing Charles behind him with a smug grin on his face. "I've got to go but- can I see you later?"

"I'll come to your driver's room, yeah?"

Carlos' smile widened. "I'll be waiting for you."

You watched in admiration as Carlos stood in the Spanish sunshine, soaking in his victory. He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to you, ignoring the cameras that were watching him and watching where his eyeline kept straying to. Both of you were oblivious to the eyes watching you, unable to look away.

You both met just outside Carlos' room, embracing properly. He pulled you into the room, away from prying eyes and you took your chance, diving forward and pressing your lips against his. Carlos froze beneath your touch, making you regret your actions and begin to pull away to give him space.

Carlos did the opposite, he deepened the kiss, reaching up to hold your face in his hands and pull you even closer. The two of you separated, sharing the same breath in the small room.

"Can I come watch you again?" You whisper into the air, suggesting a future.

Carlos met your eyes with a solemn look. "I wouldn't want anything else. Besides," He joked. "You're my good luck charm now, you can't leave me with bad luck."

[chimielie]

i swear that i will hate you 'till forever

summary: Yaku x F!Reader. sometimes divorce is what you really need to strengthen a marriage

word count: 1.2k

cw: angst, alcohol, pr marriage gone extremely wrong, yaku is older by six years, reader is a socialite with no life skills or healthy coping mechanisms, yaku also has no healthy coping mechanisms, no one in this story is doing well, The Judgment of God Himself, also blasphemy

a/n: heeey long time no see. i actually genuinely don't know when i wrote this, i'm just emptying my drafts of all the half-written fics i have locked in jail. i do still like this concept a lot so shoot me an ask if you want to know more about what i had planned for the full thing :)

Morisuke hates weddings.

He stares up at God, who is trapped in a little circle in a bigger circle, surrounded by gorgeous, centuries-old paintings of angels and saints and little red devils. Everything is gold, the flickering light of hanging chandeliers shining down to gild a rapt audience, even as the real people seem to pale in comparison to their artistically rendered counterparts. Standing here, surrounded by ornate displays of divinity, Morisuke has never felt so wealthy in spirit and physicality. He wasn’t raised in this religion, nor was he ever baptized into it as an adult, but he doesn’t find a seed of objection in himself he’d though he would. The icon he thinks is God looks both mournful and benevolent. All the shining things make Morisuke feel as though he’s looking into a mirror.

The people rustle, whispering among themselves. A stray string instrument sounds, alone and twanging into a silence far greater than itself, and Morisuke almost misses it when the orchestra starts up moments later. He has a headache, the kind that gets worse because he’s so irritated that he has one at all.

He looks down and away from God, straight into the blinding flash of a camera. His only reaction is a slight narrowing of the eyes, the closest he’s come to flinching in years. When the spots clear from his vision, you’re there, an angel from the fresco come to life, a goddess in the church.

Morisuke folds his hands. It feels only right to pray, the way he’s seen it on television, the way some of his teammates do before matches. You stare at him as you walk down the aisle, light playing over your dress in shining bursts that make his head throb harder. He can’t find any bridal tears in your eyes.

He shifts in his dress shoes, fights not to run his hands through his carefully-styled hair. The air-conditioning is too strong, meant to keep a thousand pressed-together people from overheating, or perhaps it’s the winter air leaking in through the great doors. You reach the stairs to the altar, wobbling a little on your first step up, though the movement is so minuscule anyone but him wouldn’t have noticed. Without thinking, Morisuke reaches a hand out to steady you. Your fingers press hard into the flesh of his palm, gripping him bruisingly tight. He can barely pull his hand away fast enough. The music stops, and Morisuke takes in a deep breath, while your chest doesn’t move to inhale or exhale. This is the last moment before you are knotted together irrevocably for life. A groom who hates weddings for a bride who doesn’t cry.

one year, eight months later

If you tilt your head up and almost close your eyes so that you’re looking through your lashes, you can pretend that you’re floating among the stars. You do so, walking backwards, tipping champagne down your throat as you go, trying to envision yourself as a constellation. You’re pretty sure you are one—Morisuke’s gift to you on your birthday, the first one after you’d married. The tabloids had eaten it up. You, watching him board a plane through the social media stories of your so-called friends, hadn’t felt quite as romanced as your picture in the news claimed.

You had forgotten about the constellation. Perhaps it had stuck in your subconscious, though; it was awfully romantic. Perhaps that’s why you had chosen the planetarium as a venue for tonight, though in the light of day it had been the midnight blue velvet and shadowy, domed ceilings that had cinched it for you. But you throw a lot of parties, and you don’t need any more sentiment in your life than what you’re currently suffocating under. You’ll come back on your own, you decide, finishing off your glass and plucking another from the nearest hand to you. You like being lost amongst your guests, freewheeling in space even without oxygen to breathe.

You stumble as you continue your backwards, meandering path through the party. You kick off your shoes, lab-grown crystals chipping off as they bounce. You don’t notice. You’ll buy more. You could buy the whole stupid world, with your husband’s money that he throws at you so he doesn’t have to come home and face you. Your husband who leaves you alone to do whatever you please. Alone, dancing among the stars.

Morisuke was twenty-eight when he proposed to you; you had just turned twenty-two when you said yes. You had been officially seeing each other for three months and acquaintances for nearly a year prior.

The story of your first meeting the interviewers knew was one you and your husband had told many times. A mutual friend had introduced you at a high-profile event and said, blatantly, that the two of you should “make babies.” Morisuke was smooth; you were flirtatious. The story played out like a romantic comedy, ending in a fairytale wedding.

You and he had kept the real story for yourselves, to take out and admire in times of trouble, to tuck away in your pocket like a note between secret lovers.

You were running through a rose-garden maze, eyes over your shoulder, hands fisted in your skirts. He had been walking a perpendicular path to yours (looking for someone else, another lover, you’d later learn) when you had tripped right over him, tumbling head over heels through the flora and into a new sector. Your breath knocked out of you, it was all you could do to stare up at the sky and try to laugh.

“Miss?” He’d called, ducking through the opening, pushing stray rose canes away. “Miss! Are you alright?”

He sounded so formal. You accepted his hand up, but only pulled yourself into a sitting position, trying desperately to catch your breath. He was so handsome, it was making things much harder. Inconsiderate of him, you thought

“I’m fine,” you managed, eventually. “Are you?”

“No more bruised than usual,” he’d returned, teasing. You cocked a brow. “I’m an athlete. I dive face-first onto hardwood floors all day."

For reasons you couldn’t recognize, you’d taken his hand, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. His forearm toward the elbow had a nasty bruise, as he had said. You ran a careful finger over the discoloration, and he hissed.

“How was my form?”

“Awful,” he said frankly. “But—“ He’d seemed to get lost there, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the clouds and played across your features. With all the raw honesty of someone saying something they hadn’t even known they were thinking, he opened his mouth and said: “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

On a slight breeze, the petals you’d knocked off drifted around the two of you, catching on his shirt, in your hair. They pooled between you, and when you ducked your head down they were all you could see.

You fell in love during that first meeting.

He never fell in love with you at all.

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 4

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, mild physical violence, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Aaaaa!!! After the lengthy process of reposting all my old work, I can finally post an update and treat y’all to something new!!! Welcome back, y’all and thank you for rejoining me on this journey with the SDDU and specifically with Javy and Roadie 💚💛🩶

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You try to still your restless hands as you sit in the parking garage of the Dogfighters’ arena. Javy had texted you directions to the staff parking section and now you’re currently working up the courage to get out of your car and go inside. You’re turning your phone over and over in your hands, debating texting Javy to ask him to meet you so you don’t have to try to navigate the unfamiliar building alone worrying about bothering him. You’d texted him an hour ago to let him know you were on your way but now you’ve suddenly lost your nerve. As you’re stuck against your mental roadblock, a knock on your window makes you jump so hard you feel your seatbelt chafe painfully at your neck. Your neck whips to catch sight of your attacker as your hand curls around the pepper spray attached to your keys. It relaxes slightly as a scowl crosses your face, replacing the wide-eyed panic as you catch sight of Javy, leaning an arm against the top of the window frame and smirking through the glass at you. You have a good mind to pepper spray him anyway.

Instead, you settle on shoving the door open, aiming to put him off balance but it seems you’ve underestimated exactly how big hockey players are. The door barely budges. You shove again, scowl deepening as Javy’s smirk spreads into a grin as he realizes what you’re trying to do. His laugh echoes off of the walls of the parking garage and when he throws his head back shifting his weight off the door, you give a particularly hard shove and the combination sends him stumbling back a few steps, and you feel a grin tug at the corner of your mouth, but you stifle the urge to smile as you hurry out of the car before Javy can go back to leaning against the door.

“Good to see you too, Roadie.” He says with a smirk as he straightens back up. “I was wondering what happened when you said you were on the way an hour ago and the drive is only thirty minutes.” Your lips part in surprise. “You okay?” He asks and you watch his carefree smirk morph into something else, his gaze firmer as he scans over your body like he’s looking for an invisible injury or ailment. You shake your head, dismissing his concerns.

“I’m fine.” You twist your hands around the strap of your purse and your eyes drift down to watch the repetitive motion.

“Well then,” Javy clears his throat awkwardly. “Shall we?” You nod, not letting up with the twisting until Javy’s hand enters your field of vision, held out in silent offer.

“Uh, you probably don’t want to,” you murmur, finally releasing the purse strap to attempt to wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans. “Sweaty,” you hold your hands up, heat rising to your cheeks as you explain and Javy gives you what you almost convince yourself is a fond smile before he takes your hand in his.

“I’m sweaty too, that makes two of us.” It’s like a cold bucket of water dumped on your nerves and you feel your lips part slightly in surprise as Javy leads you by your linked hands towards the door. “Come on,” he says as he holds open the door for you, not letting go of your hand. “The guys are going to love you,” he says, flashing that roguish grin at you that makes your heart thump as you momentarily forget exactly who he is.

The four-letter word is still pounding in your ears as Javy leads you down winding hallways that you know you should be committing to memory but you’re too distracted to pay attention to right now. Then he turns the corner and you’re standing in what looks a lot like the teacher’s lounge. There’s a group of twenty-some grown men of varying ages sprawled across couches and chairs. A few look up when you enter with Javy and he squeezes your hand encouragingly.

“Hey guys,” Javy says loudly and you feel the weight of dozens of eyes focus on you and you feel the desperate urge to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Roadie!” An excited shout draws your attention to where Jake’s chatting with a larger player who’s now watching you curiously, dark brown brows drawn together in a scrutinizing frown. Jake’s grinning as he waves at you before making his way to the front and wrapping you in a hug that takes you by surprise. It’s over before you can fully register it and then Jake has a hand on your back, beaming at the rest of the room. “Guys, this is Roadie, Javy’s girlfriend!” There’s an awkward silence as Jake’s audience tries to gauge whether he’s lying before the man Jake was speaking to earlier speaks up.

“FAKE girlfriend.” He clarifies and you feel the fire in your cheeks burn even hotter. He’s glaring and it takes you a moment to realize it’s not at you, but at Javy. Jake does his best to disperse the tense moment, saying something to the rest of the team that you don’t hear because you’re focused on the man who spoke up. Before you know it, most of the guys are clearing out of the space and Javy’s letting go of your hand to cross his arms across his chest.

“You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you Bradshaw?” His voice is hard and you can hear the irritation in it. You shift uncomfortably next to him as the other man pushes off the wall where he’s been standing and comes over to the two of you. Jake watches on silently, ready to step in if needed. You can’t help but feel like you’re intruding on a conversation that you have no right to be a part of.

“I can’t? What about you, that’s the reason she’s in this situation in the first place, isn’t it?” You hear it then, the fierce streak of protectiveness in his voice. His gaze drops to you then and all the animosity leaves it as he extends a hand out to you. “Bradley Bradshaw, nice to meet you.”

You take it nervously and he shakes it with a firm grip that somehow manages to ease your nerves. “You already met Bradley’s girlfriend, Zam.” Jake pipes up, doing his best to dissolve the tension still hanging over the room.

“Oh!” You do your best to help Jake out. “She’s really nice.” You do your best to make the compliment seem as genuine as it is, but something tells you it isn’t working. Bradley smiles at that and there’s a wistfulness in his eyes that transforms his face from the harsh presence he’d seemed before.

“That she is.” He says mostly to himself before he straightens. “Good to meet you, Roadie, but I’m late for a meeting.” He pushes past you and Javy and you let him go but Javy doesn’t seem to share the sentiment.

***

“Bradshaw, what the fuck!” Javy snaps at the older man’s back as he follows Bradley down the hallway. He almost crashes into the back of his teammate as Bradley stops suddenly. The door to the break room swinging shut with a muted bang behind him. Bradley rounds on Javy, shoving him against the wall with a swift movement before he gets up into Javy’s space.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bradley snaps and Javy’s caught by surprise. When he doesn’t answer immediately Bradley pushes again. “Look, I know I’ve never said anything about your, quite frankly disgusting, behavior before now but that’s because you were just being irresponsible. But this? This is just plain cruel.” Fury starts to stain Bradley’s cheeks with splotches of angry red. Bradshaw’s always had a temper but Javy hasn’t had many occasions of facing it's brunt. “Now you’ve pulled that poor girl into your mess and she’s going to get hurt.” Javy bristles at that, shoving back against Bradley’s hulking form that’s keeping him pinned to the wall. Sure they both play the same position but Bradley’s built like a brick wall while Javy’s always tended to be on the more slender side so he doesn’t manage to move the older man much.

“She won’t get hurt.” Javy snaps, irritation crackling in his voice like lightning. “I won’t let that happen,” he insists, brows furrowing in frustrated determination.

Bradley answers with a barked laugh of haughty disbelief. “You know I already told Zam she’s crazy for even entertaining this but she seems to agree with you. You’re lucky I trust my wife.” Bradley snaps and Javy’s eyebrows rise in mock curiosity.

“Your WIFE?” He asks in a way that he knows is dangerously teasing. “Something you want to share with the class, Bradshaw?” Sure he’d promised Zam that he’d do his best to stop riling up Bradley but in his defense, the older man had started it. Bradley’s cheeks flush for a different reason this time and Javy feels his grip loosen.

“My girlfriend, you know what I meant.” He snaps but his voice lacks the bite it had earlier.

“Planning on popping the question, Bradshaw?” Javy asks, tilting his head slightly mockingly and Bradley reddens even more.

“That’s none of your business, Machado.” He straightens, releasing Javy from his grasp, and scowls at him. “Mind your own business, and for the love of God, don’t fuck this up. She deserves better than that.” He doesn’t give Javy a chance to respond before he stalks off in the direction of Zam’s office. Javy catches his breath as he uncurls the tight fists his hands have been in. As angry as he is, he can’t blame Bradshaw for his concern because he’s right. You DO deserve better. But unfortunately for you, he’s the best you’ve got right now.

***

Javy invited you to stay and watch practice so you’re perched in a row of seats a distance you’ve deemed safe from the glass and you’re tapping away at your laptop as you review lesson plans for the week and do your best to rework them to make sure Javy can make it to Octopus Stew Day. You’ve been at it for about twenty minutes when you look up to the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs up to where you’ve set up camp. Natasha gives you a wave as she approaches and you close your laptop, smoothing your hands over the top to clasp them in front of you.

“Hey there Roadie, can I join you? I had to finish up a couple of things but I wanted to chat if that’s okay?” You nod and she scoots past you to drop into the seat next to you. “How’re you handling things so far?” She asks, raising a knowing eyebrow at you. “I’ve known Javy for over a decade so bullshitting me isn’t going to work.” Your eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve really known him that long?”

She nods. “We met in high school back in New Orleans. He played for the boys’ hockey team and I played for the girls’. Though we became friends because we were in the same homeroom together. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s probably one of my best friends.” She looks down towards the ice where the players are running drills with a rueful smile. “So,” she turns back to you. “How long have you been a hockey fan?”

You blink back at her stupidly until you realize she’s serious. “I’m not.” You stammer out. “Josie’s been begging me to come to a game with her all season because she thinks I need to get out more, but I don’t know anything about the sport.” Nat doesn’t criticize that but simply adopts a thoughtful expression while she carefully looks you over.

“Do you want to?” She asks, finally, and your brow twists in confusion.

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to know anything about the sport?” She asks simply. “I could teach you if you want. It’s not exactly a necessity per se for a hockey WAG but it certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“What’s a hockey WAG?” You ask, feeling slightly stupid for not knowing, but Nat dismisses that immediately.

“Oh, sorry! A WAG is short for ‘wives and girlfriends.’ You’re a WAG now, technically so you should probably get used to the term. Josie can show you the ropes, she’s got more experience than the rest of the staff girls like Zam and Bugs. She’s the unofficial head of the Dogfighters’s WAGs. I wish I could tell you more about how it all works but that’s not really my wheelhouse, sorry.”

You nod, making a mental note to ask Josie about it later. “Thanks, and yes I’d love to know more about it. That way I’ll have something to talk to Javy about on our date later today.” You’d been trying not to think about it since Zam had mentioned it. She was setting up a press ambush tonight at a restaurant Javy had chosen for your first date.

Nat looks like she’s going to ask you more about that but decides against it and she turns towards the ice, motioning for you to join her. You pull out a notebook and pen from your bag and see Nat smile slightly as you open them, ready to take any notes. “So let’s start with the basics, the things you already know. There’s two teams, two goals, and one puck. The objective is, of course, to score on your opponent’s goal. Now let’s talk about the lineups. Each team is made of four offensive lines, three defensive pairings, and two goalies. The offensive lines and defensive pairings will take turns playing what we call shifts on the ice. At any one point, there should be six players on the ice for each team. One offensive line made up of a center, and two wingers, right and left. One defensive pairing made up of two defensemen. And of course one goalie. Usually, only one goalie plays per game unless the coach decides to swap them out if things are going south or they get injured. The second goalie still gets suited up in their gear and warms up to be ready to swap in for any reason if necessary.”

“Javy is a defenseman,” she adds. “He and Bradley are in a pair together.” She clocks your surprised expression. “I know they don’t exactly get along but it’s been getting better since Bradley started dating Zam. She basically told them they needed to knock it off. If she saw the shit Bradley pulled today she would have given him a dressing-down for sure.” She pauses with a small grin before she sobers again. “He’s not all bad, he’s just got a bad temper and a lot of baggage. He used to be a lot worse but I think he’s finally started healing.” You give an understanding nod.

“Anyway, back to the nitty gritty. Defensemen are, as their name suggests, in charge of defense and preventing the other team from scoring. The offensive players are the center and wingers. The center is usually in the center of attack formations and focuses on the middle of the ice. They pass more than any other player. That’s the position Jake plays,” she explains and you nod as you watch the scrimmage on the ice below you. The wingers support the center and they’re pretty versatile. Some are the goal-scoring types and others excel in playing near the boards and digging the puck out there. Reuben and Mickey are wingers. The goalie, of course, defends the goal, and that’s Bob. I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet.” You shake your head no.

“So those are the positions. It takes a while to get used to watching the lines change, there’s a lot of bodies moving around but I think the next thing to cover would be penalties. There are all kinds of ways to draw penalties but most of them involve physical play. When a player gets a penalty, they have to go into the penalty box. They spend 2 minutes in there for a minor penalty and 5 minutes for a major penalty. While they're in the box, their team must play short-handed. That’s called a penalty-kill for the penalized team since they're trying to kill the penalty by ensuring the opposition doesn’t score, and called a power play for the opposing team since they have the power advantage by having one more player on the ice. There’s also misconduct and game misconduct penalties that work differently but let’s just start here and hope you never have to learn about those.” She gives you a rueful grin and you smile back, nervously.

“I think that’s enough for lesson one. Next time we can talk about the offside rule. If you have any questions you can ask me,” she reaches over to take the pen from your hand scribbles her phone number into the margin. “Of course you could also ask Josie, Javy, or anyone else around here. And, of course, there’s always good old-fashioned Google.”

She settles next to you and the two of you watch practice and Nat explains what’s going on down on the ice and you interrupt with questions when you have them. You may not be able to follow a game yet, but you think you’ll be able to hold a conversation over dinner. So far, Javy has mostly focussed on asking you questions and you’re hoping to return the favor tonight and make sure you’re prepared to field any personal questions that are sure to be thrown your way at work as your colleagues continue to investigate your newly-unveiled relationship. You’re hoping the photos that will come out tonight will sate their interest but if you know anything about them, it’ll just feed the fire of curiosity. You need to get ready for war.

A/N: Who’s ready for their first date??? What kind of shenanigans do we expect to ensue?

[daarka]

For those late to the party who want to know what the hell is going on with #OpenDnD, #StoptheSub, #DnDBegone etc, and why everyone is cancelling DnDBeyond subscriptions, I tried to do a crash course as succinctly as possible. OpenDnD.Games is a great resource for more in-depth details, and if you wish to do so, you can cancel your DnDBeyond subscription through this direct link (as there have been many reporting trouble in locating where to do so). Edit: Tweaked the very first detail below, as someone reminded me it was not a wholly accurate statement as I had initially written it. Apologies to everyone who already reblogged the first version of this :')

Hasbro acquired Wizards of the Coast (WotC) some time ago, but recently they got new leadership who said in an interview that they see D&D as "under-monetized". Hasbro is on the decline with finances, and WotC is its biggest cash cow. Why milk that cash cow through producing more content when you can instead revoke a legally irrevocable license that makes it impossible for 3rd party content creators to exist?

America loves a good monopoly. The old license that permitted the community to grow to what it is today was OGL1.0a, and without it, D&D would not be what it is right now, nor even close. They tried to shift to OGL1.1, a new license that is, in a word, PREDATORY. Horrific, nasty shit.

OGL1.1 was quietly sent to large creators to sign. It then got leaked. The community erupted. The backlash was loud and unanimous. WotC was radio silent for like two weeks. They finally gave a single-sentence "we'll explain soon" tweet on DnDBeyond's account. Then more silence.

A WotC employee reached out to large creators to blow the whistle on WotC. The source was verified, and they shared that WotC sees the community as an obstacle between them and their money, all they care about is bottom line, and they're delaying in hopes we forget and move on.

And also that they are mainly looking at DnDBeyond subscription cancelations to gauge the financial impact; they don't care about our sentiments, only our money. So everyone erupted into signal boosting for others to unsubscribe as the single and best way to make ourselves heard. Cue the mass unsubscribing.

Today (January 13th 2023), a shitty PR piece was posted on DnDBeyond full of blatant lies and, in my opinion, barely-contained saltiness. Right before that, though, OGL2.0 leaks came out; the tweaks they'd begrudgingly made following the backlash. 2.0 is basically just as bad as 1.1; they just spoke of it as being more changed than it was.

In other words, they keep bold-faced lying to a community of rules-lawyers who recreationally read fine print :)

Meanwhile, Paizo (creators of Pathfinder) has come to the rescue, vowing to release a truly open license that will allow everyone to continue pursuing the livelihoods they're passionate about; this is the Open RPG Creative License, or "ORC".

Canceling subscriptions immediately sends a potent message, even if you may have to resubscribe later for functionality in your games. You'll still have the remainder of your billing cycle to enjoy paid perks.

Everything's a little on fire, but I think we'll be okay ♥️

OGL1.0a was never meant to be revocable, as loudly stated in the past couple days by the very people who authored it. It is very likely that WotC is actually just bluffing and bullying, and is actually powerless to revoke it--something many lawyers more knowledgeable than myself seem to be suggesting. In which case, it is my greatest hope in all of this that 3rd party creators are able to continue doing what they love, with no further interruptions.

Remember: the majority of WotC and DnDBeyond employees feel the exact same way we do, but they don't have a choice. Hasbro is the enemy here. Be kind to each other, and know where blame should and should not be placed. If you want to stay up to speed, the account of @.DnD_Shorts seems to be a very active and informed voice, largely responsible for sharing the first leak. If Twitter makes you want to puke, I completely understand; DnD_Shorts also has a YouTube channel with frequent updates on the situation posted in video format.

It's cathartic to me to try to signal boost this stuff, and provide summaries that might help others stay informed. It helps me feel like I'm somehow able to affect these nasty things that are otherwise just inflicted onto lil guys in the community like myself.

However, this has been beyond exhausting and stressful. I'm going to start untangling myself and stepping back from posting about this issue so I can hopefully restore some of my own sanity.

It's been really crazy--in a good way--to see the power this community has when rallied together under a common threat. It makes me proud to be in that community.

At the end of the day, all TTRPGs are really just exercises in creativity and fun. The golden rule has always been and should always be that there is no right or wrong way to play, other than what suits you and those you play with. Likewise, no one should ever feel guilty or judged by others for playing one system over another. It's okay to like D&D5e despite all this. No matter how much they've tried, Wizards of the Coast cannot claim jurisdiction over the invaluable memories you've made, and what has become a creative outlet for countless people. Myself included.

Boycotting is a great way to be heard, since they only care about money. But continuing to use the content you have to play D&D5e is your prerogative, and hurts no one. Furthermore, it's also okay if you can't cancel your DnDBeyond subscription because you rely on it too heavily for your games. That doesn't make you a traitor. That doesn't estrange you from the community. DnDBeyond, at its core, is a great tool that is popular for a reason; it's the new leadership that is forcing it to become something it wasn't meant to be. One day, I hope to be able to resubscribe in good conscious, and I hope that day is soon.

To reiterate, if anyone's even read down this far... be kind to one another. Keep in mind that big enemies win when the party is divided. You can love or hate anything you want in the TTRPG sphere, but how you feel about it does not invalidate someone else feeling the opposite.

Be kind. Be patient. Be empathetic. We're already coming out on top.

[bcyhoods]

BLUSHING🫀 ─── send in a character au and a scenario for a drabble or headcanons !

omg okay I need ur thoughts on fake dating with rockstar!eddie. this is a threat (I’m kidding. mostly)

BYE I NEED. musician!reader annnnnd mean eddie. (well as mean as i was able to convey, it’s barely there im sorry LOLZ)

super cool 100 celebration

fake dating with rockstar!eddie

it is absolutely, entirely a pr stunt at first.

mr. munson’s reputation is a little worse for wear at the moment. his devilish good looks can only get him out of so much trouble

and you’re an up-and-coming artist with a new single that you want to release so badly buuuuuuuuuuut

marketing! you need more outreach, more publicity, so that it can actually sell and so your label doesn’t lose money

and hey, what do ya know? you and eddie are signed to the same label! hey, they have an awesome idea

eddie is dismissive at first. he can’t make eye contact with you for more than two seconds at a time and when you’re alone he looks so grumpy

the first outing is at a diner and you’re trying to ask him questions because you’re gonna be stuck spending time together for who knows how long (and he’s also very attractive. sue you for wanting to get to know him)

“so how’d you get into music :)))”

and he kinda frowns. it’s more like a wince than anything else, like he has a splinter. and he’s like “does it matter? the faster we eat, the faster we can leave.”

and boy, does that set the mood for the rest of the evening. you’re sitting there eating a meal with someone who gives off the impression that they hate you

but as you’re walking out, he’s quick to grab onto your hand and lead the way out. and you’re like ??? until you notice the mob that stands outside

it’s so overwhelming. there’s a sea of paparazzi that you have to fight through, everyone is yelling, the camera flashes are blinding, and eddie is walking way too fast for comfort that your fingers are starting to slip from his grip

he’s glancing back at you and he notices all the lenses being shoved in your face and the really creepy whistles

so he starts shoving, elbowing, shouting expletives — which is really counterintuitive considering the terms of your relationship — in order to wrap an arm around your shoulders and guide you to the car

“are you okay? did any of em touch you? >:(”

and it gives you whiplash because this man was ignoring your existence like 10 minutes ago

i mean you don’t know that it’s because he’s disappointed. first date with somebody that is way out of his league and it’s a damn pr stunt. and you’re kind, and you make good music, but there’s no way you’re actually interested

so he keeps you at arms length because he doesn’t want to get his feelings hurt. after that day, he eases up a little though

he knows more about the industry than you do, so he’s giving you pointers, spilling little secrets

he suggests that they include a sound bite of your voice on the band’s next single and the label is eating it up

whenever you go to parties or events together and you’re wearing something that hugs your figure or shows skin, he is drooling. he cannot focus on anything anybody is saying

it’s really not hard to pretend to be in love with you cough because he’s not pretending cough

he is always touching you. even when you’re alone, his hands are holding yours, his arm is around your shoulders, his thigh is pressing against yours

obviously, he makes a show of it in front of the cameras, pulling you in so close that you’d think someone super glued your sides together. a big smack of his lips against your forehead (forehead kisses are so hard to dismiss because they’re so affectionate)

but when you’re alone, he becomes really gentle? and you didn’t think eddie munson was capable of soft touches but it’s sooooooooo

his hand rests on your lower back whenever you enter a room, it’s very light and timid though, like he doesn’t want to push any boundary. he holds your elbow too

you both think of a really sick “photo bait” that the paps can take pictures of like feeding each other grapes or pouting at each other and you guys laugh and cringe at it

on the inside though you’re both like “wait a minute why do i like this rn”

then the label catches on and they suggest that you guys need to kiss on camera when your single releases

and you’re so nervous because you guys have shared cheek and forehead kisses before, but the lips are a whole new territory

so at the release party, right at midnight, he’s beaming down at you with a smile that looks so real and genuine and his eyes are glowing

but when you lean up to kiss him, he stops you. his hands are holding your jaw and he leans over to whisper in your ear

“i want our first kiss to be in private, because we both want it. not because someone’s taking a picture.”

and your brain goes to mush like ?!?!????!!

and you discover pretty quickly that he really is a damn good kisser

[earthtokhal]

I read the article and I have some thoughts.

Sacked or Promoted.

From multiple sources we've read that Daniel is very much in the running to get that seat which means he is showing some form enough for them to consider him so how can someone who is actively being linked to the seat in the MAIN team simultaneously in danger of losing his current seat?

2. Lawson in for Ricciardo midseason (Rumour we've been hearing from race 1)

Vcarb has been marketed as a sister team and no longer a junior team. They were able to pull in big sponsors like cash app and Visa. Daniel is in Visa's current ad.

So I assume that when RB were trying to get in these sponsors, they obviously would have used Daniel and the shift from being a junior team to a sister team. It would make no sense to remove him midseason for no reason.

They must not think we forgot about the articles everyone wrote about Daniel losing his seat in Miami.

3. Help or Hindrance.

"It's fair to wonder whether if this version of Ricciardo would be a help or hindrance to Red Bull in the constructors' fight."

Honestly, anyone who is wondering this right now has a bias against Daniel because surely nobody thinks he would be worse than what they currently have. In the VCARB he is qualifying around the same place as SP and even better at times. He is able to keep it clean and out of the walls. There is no way he would be qualifying p9 in a VCARB and do worse in a RB.

4. Missing something.

"Ricciardo is missing something from the form he showed between 2014 and 2018."

Yeah, the car.

5. Only one without a contract.

It is of my personal opinion that he was not announced because they knew they might need to change their drivers considering SP's form last year.

In addition to that, the timing of both the article where Marko said that LL has a seat next year and that it is still a junior team and Yuki's contract announcement was odd, rushed even.

Everyone, including upper management and Daniel give wonderful PR answers when asked on race weekends about any of this and they dance around the questions.

6.Regutitated news and Daniel's form.

A lot of the articles are basically the same thing with a new opinion worded as an option or a new "source"

F1 twitter would love to say that the better driver is the one who gets the points and yes, usually it is but Daniel's form has picked up since that chassis change and he has been on form ever since. He has put his best foot forward in every race weekend but continues to be let down by the team and that is why it was so important for VCARB to take accountability in public because writing it in your post race debrief that barely anyone reads isn't it, not when people are seeing that he went from p9 to p12 and writing think pieces on why he is "washed."

Also, if the team can look at data and strategy from Hungary to determine that Daniel had a faultless weekend then I am pretty sure they can look at data and strategies from past weekends.

7. The upgraded RB and high pressure.

There are concerns that Daniel might struggle in the upgraded RB but I don't think this upgrade will last long. Max hates it and surely, they won't continue with something he hates. A car that Max likes to drive is also one that Daniel likes to drive.

In general RB is a high pressure team but the situation they are currently in is even more high pressure than a normal start of the season situation. Daniel already knows the team, he knows the pressure situation there. He knows all the off track things, he just needs to get it together on track whereas someone else might still need to deal with the off track pressure and getting used to it.

I am heavily biased and I want Daniel to get the seat HE wants but I also want him to in the sport until HE is ready to let go and currently, he is not ready to let go. He has shown he still has it and he has shown that he can get the results even in difficult situations (ie: whatever the hell that quali was on Saturday.)

But putting my bias aside, I don't think Red Bull are ready to lose him and I think he would be the best choice for their current situation.

[thisislittlerunaway]

Right, maybe I’m just having my moment, but in this post I’m gonna rant because I am getting very, very sick of eating mouldy bread and crumbs at the waffle house nowadays 🤢. It is demoralising, is it not?

Firstly, please don’t attack me, I’m as much a hardcore shipper as you are, but undeniably my rationality never stops me from playing devil’s advocate. It has been vexing seeing the fandom going back and forth with theories just to keep the Lukola ship afloat amid the reality of L dating and N moving on from captaining the ship.

As much as I love Nic and Luke, I don’t plan to give up my grasp on reality to fool myself into delusion. I’m way too old and realistic for that, and by crossing over to delulu land I would be making what I believe real in my mind, rather than observing something real and appreciating it, which is how I believe I got into this fandom.

So far evidence has shown N & L seem to be very different people in terms of work ethics, career projection, choice of friends, attitude to fans and fame, and PR strategies among other things. Plus, as much as the fandom tries in its most creative ways to dismiss this, Luke does have an ‘alleged’ gf whom he takes seriously enough to bring with him almost everywhere, and who has somehow stuck around for almost a year. Say what you like but Luke’s actions don’t scream one-sided from A at all. And who is she to be so powerful to ‘force’ him into bringing her everywhere?

I ship Lukola, but I don’t NEED them to exist. If there really isn’t anything between them (ever, or anymore) apart from a good friendship, it is OK, I just want to know.

Promotion period is over. We have given S3 so much hype and this has resulted in amazing success and public recognition. Luke is still with A and seemingly distancing himself from the B’ton bubble, N has moved on to other projects, so why can’t they just release us from this rollercoaster of emotions by confirming once and for all that they are just friends. I bet some fans (like myself) will appreciate being freed from the misery.

The only possible reason I can think of to explain why we are stuck here in the WH with all this mess is perhaps when N & L were chosen as S3 leads, their contract got renewed and part of it requires them to drive this dating narrative for as long as they are cast members. It is likely Shondaland has learnt from previous seasons and QC how powerful fans can be when they wholeheartedly believe in a ship and decided to fully capitalize on this, not just for S3 but for as long as they can. Conveniently they have N & L who are very close and comfortable with each other, and the very hard working Nic who seems to have chemistry with everyone and understands how a fandom works way too well.

So, as per their contract, N & L cannot publicly claim any gf/bf, but of course neither Netflix nor Shondaland can stop them living their personal lives, or stop their friends and tabloids from digging into N and L’s private lives for publicity. I can imagine this to be suffocating, I wouldn’t be surprised if L did find it too much and just wanted to get away from it all as soon as possible, hence his behaviour since Part 2 premier. This is obviously bad for publicity and potentially upset N + Shonda who work super hard for B’ton and S3 to be a success. I suspect there is tension and disagreement behind the scene, and while they want to keep us believing in Lukola, they really can’t control Luke’s life. This explains all the mixed messages we are getting.

So now we have it, an awkward situation where our beloved find themselves damned if they do and damned if they don’t. So much conflict of interest, so strong also is the sentiment from fans who are ready for the next backlash in response to any upsetting news that no one wants to risk losing the support by officially busting the bubble.

Hence we are all stuck. Luke buried himself in the sand with HBS ver 2 and Nic buries herself in work. We are left starved, only barely kept alive when Netflix, Shondaland and some cast/crew occasionally drop some BTS and info to keep us interested.

This was never what I signed up for when I joined this fandom. I am frustrated, a bit heart broken, and getting more and more cynical each day. I am hanging dearly on to my seat in the waffle house but trust me, some days I wish I had never got here in the first place.

End of my rant, I’ll probably sulk a bit and get back here tomorrow to continue with all this shipping business 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Have a good day!

[willalove75]

New Girl on the Pitch Ch. 1

Pairing: Rebecca Welton x f!reader

Summary: Your friend Keeley brings you in as the team's social media manager, Rebecca is impressed, in more ways than one.

Words: 2,689

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn

Notes: This is my first fanfic so please be nice. I’m anticipating for this to be multiple chapters so bare with me while it kicks into gear. I'm open to any and all suggestions or comments!

You think to yourself that you would enjoy walking through Richmond, such a pretty, quaint town, if it wasn't so bitter cold. Today the cold isn't what's on your mind, your friend Keeley asked you to stop by and give her a hand with the teams social media now that she's helping with their PR. The wind whips at the hem of your jacket as you make your way to AFC Richmond, nervous for your first day, unsure of what you're about to walk into.

You don't know much about soccer, growing up in the US you were mostly exposed to football when your dad and uncles got together to watch their favorite teams play; other than that, you were never a raging sports fan. You've heard of the new AFC Richmond coach, Ted Lasso though, and you relax a little knowing you won't be the only American there.

Around the bend you see the big double doors at the entrance of the stadium and a friendly, familiar face. Keeley is standing there, waving and calling you over.

"y/n!! You made it! Oh I'm so excited you're gonna love this, follow me!"

She grabs your arm and pulls you into the building, guiding you through the halls. You try to take in as much of your surroundings as you can whilst being dragged along.

"Woah wait slow down Keeley!" as you pull back from her grasp "I want to see all of this"

You walk up to the trophy cases, looking at decades of hard work stuck behind a thin sheet of glass.

"wow, they must be really good, look at all of these trophies"

"they've played like shit the last few seasons" Keeley says matter-of-factly.

You're a bit surprised that she knows that since you've never pegged her to be a sports fan, but then remember she's dating the teams star player, Jamie Tartt.

"Jamie's been bitching about how poorly they've played and how he's the best thing that's ever happened to Richmond"

You roll your eyes "of course he did" as you side-eye your friend. You don't know why she wastes her time on someone like Jamie, an immature, entitled jock.

"Come on we have to go!"

Keeley grabs your arm and pulls you through the halls once more.

“Where are we going?!”

“To meet everyone!”

“Who’s everyone?!”

"So there's Coach Lasso, he’s the one from the US too! There’s Coach Beard-"

"Coach Beard? Is his name Beard or does he have a really cool beard so that's what everyone calls him?"

Keeley slows her pace down, a look of uncertainty comes across her face

"I mean he does have a beard, but I don't know if that's actually his name or not"

You both laugh and keep moving

"Then there's Nate, he's the kitman"

"The what man?"

"The kitman, he gives the boys their water bottles, sets out the cones during training, cleans up the locker room"

"So a glorified waterboy?"

"pretty much, next there's Higgins, he's the director of communications and Rebecca's assistant"

"Who's Rebec-"

Keeley cuts you off with a sharp stop in front of an office door and knocks as she walks in

"Rebecca, this is y/n! The one I told you about that's gonna help out with social media!"

Keeley pulls you into the office, your eyes dart around the room, landing on a desk in the middle. You look up and your eyes are met by beautiful pair of piercing green eyes, you feel like your breath was stolen from you for a moment. Keeley is talking but you don't hear her, you're too distracted by the woman in front of you.

Her blond hair, plump lips, gorgeous yet intense green eyes, this woman is beautiful. She slams her laptop shut and you snap out of it, you look over at Keeley who's still introducing you.

"y/n this is Rebecca! She's the owner of AFC Richmond"

You freeze and your eyes dart between your friend and Rebecca while your thoughts rush through your brain. You could kill her for not giving you a heads up.

"Oh wow, uh, hi, my name is y/n" you blurt out. Between the shock of just bursting into the owners office and the shock of how beautiful this woman is, you can barely talk.

She stands up from her chair and you're taken back by how tall she is. You look her up and down, taking note of her immaculate curves, her huge chest, her toned arms that would give Michelle Obama a run for her money. She looks like a beautiful, blond Amazonian woman. She towers over you, you have to bend you neck just to maintain eye contact.

"Yes, I assume your name hasn't changed since Keeley introduced you two seconds ago" she says and reaches out her hand. You can't tell if she's joking or not, but you can immediately tell that this woman doesn't fuck around. She doesn’t seem to take to Keeley’s bubbly personality like most people. You’ve always witnessed people softening up and relaxing a little while around Keeley, but not Rebecca.

As she leans in you get a whiff of her perfume, a gorgeous, light yet bold scent that smells like something only a woman of maturity would wear, it’s almost intoxicating. You sheepishly reach out your hand and meet hers. You're again shocked, this time at how firm Rebecca’s handshake is, you also take note on how soft her skin is. Her hand warms yours, since they’re still cold from being outside.

"Sorry if my hands are cold" you say as you pull your hand away and rub your hands together, trying to warm them up. The warmth from her hand keeps yours warm for an extra second and you feel a lingering comfort.

You stand there awkwardly for a second and look over at Keeley hoping she would break the sudden awkward silence.

Rebecca goes to speak when you hear another knock at the door. You turn around to see who you can only assume is Coach Lasso, with a small pink box in his hand.

“Good mornin’ boss! It’s Biscuits with the Boss time!” He says cheerfully, almost too cheerfully for this early in the morning. “Well who’s this here?” As he stops in his tracks in front of you.

Keeley excitedly says “Ted, this is y/n, she’s going to be helping me out with the teams social media!”

“It’s great to meet you y/n! We can use all the help we can get, I know nothin’ ‘bout the Facespace and tweeter or whatever it is you kids use now a days.”

He sticks his hand out and you go to shake his hand.

“It’s an honor to meet you coach Lasso-”

“WAIT you’re American?!” He seems almost too excited “Well wouldya look at that, if we start addin’ too many more Americans to the team these people are gonna think we’re tryin’ to take this country over, ain’t that right boss? And please, call me Ted.”

You chuckle at his joke “sounds good, it’s great to meet you Ted.”

The tension you felt earlier begins to subside as you shake his hand, you’re surprised at how comforting it feels to be around someone from the US, you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve been home.

“Well boss I got your favorite!” Ted says walking towards the desk.

You turn around and notice Rebecca’s eyes dart quickly towards Ted, “was she looking at me?” You think to yourself.

Ted hands her the box and she smiles back at him. You’re a little surprised given how unemotional she seemed a few seconds ago, but you can’t help but smile a little while looking at her. You’ve never seen someone’s smile light up the room like that, you begin to wonder how it’s possible for someone to look so flawless.

Rebecca seems to forget you and Keeley are in the room, she opens the box with an anticipation and excitement you were not expecting, it almost seems uncharacteristic for her; and picks up a biscuit and brings it to her lips. “I wish I was that biscuit” you think to yourself, then realize that that’s probably one of the craziest and dumbest things you’ve ever thought.

“Oh fuck me” Rebecca moans “Ted please tell me where you get these from, I must know”

Your body tingles at the sound of her moan, you feel yourself starting to get wet as a pulse shoots through your body down into your core. Now you really wish you were that biscuit.

“Well I’ve told you once boss, if I told you that we wouldn’t be able to have Biscuits with the Boss every morning!”

Rebecca seems irritated by his response as any lasting signs of anticipation and excitement she had just seconds before vanishes. Ted either doesn’t realize it, or doesn’t care. Either way, if she looked at you like that, you’d want to crawl under a rock and hide.

She glances over at you and Keeley and immediately put the box down, adjusts her posture and fixes her shirt collar. You think you see a flash of embarrassment cross her face, as if she forgot you both were there for a moment.

“Of course.” She says flatly. “Very well then, Ted I’m very busy this morning so I must get back to work.”

“Of course ya are! I’ll get outta your hair then.” Ted turns to leave and stops in front of you. “It was great to meet ya y/n, Keeley why don’t ya bring her down into our office later for a little meet and greet, what’d ya think about that?”

“That was going to be our next stop!” Keeley says excitedly

“Well great, see ya both soon then!” Ted says as he walks away

You turn back around and notice Rebecca had been looking straight at you while your back was turned to her, there’s no doubt this time. Her eyes quickly meet yours and you see the corner of her mouth curve into a slight smirk. You feel your cheeks get red and you look away. Usually you can read people really well, but for some reason, you cannot for the life of you figure out Rebecca.

“Well like I said I’m very busy and must get back to work” Rebecca sits back down in her chair, crossing one of her toned, long legs over the other.

“Come on let me finish giving you the tour! We’ll see you later Rebecca!” Keeley spins on her heels and turns to leave.

“It was nice meeting you” you say to Rebecca

“You as well. Welcome to AFC, y/n” she gives you a smirk and reopens her laptop turning her attention to the screen, as if you had already left the room.

Your heart skips a beat when you hear her say your name. You spin around and follow Keeley, lost in your own thoughts as Keeley talks about AFC. You try to pay attention but your thoughts are swirling. “She had to be checking me out, right?” “What was that smirk? Is she into me?” “How could someone like her even notice someone like me?” “She’s the fucking owner!! There’s no way she was checking me out”

As your thoughts continue to spiral Keeley stops and snaps her fingers in your face to get your attention

“Hello? Is anyone home? Have you even been listening to me?!”

“What? No of course I was listening?”

“Okay then what was the last thing I said?”

You panic a little, you definitely were not paying attention, but as soon as you confirm that, Keeley is going to haunt you about what you were thinking of and you can not tell her about the thoughts you just had about the owner! Your new boss!

“Uh, ‘okay, what was the last thing I said?’” You quickly reply

“Oh you’re a cheeky bitch aren’t ya? Where did you just go?!”

“I, uh, nowhere, I was just a little overwhelmed back there, that’s all. I had no idea she was gonna be the owner! A heads up would have been nice” as you playfully nudge her.

“Oh Rebecca is great!! As soon as I decided to not be afraid of her we’ve gotten along so well”

“What do you mean you decided to not be afraid of her?” You’re as equally surprised as you are confused at what Keeley said, since she isn’t often intimidated by others; but you also understand because Rebecca is as intimidating as she is beautiful.

“She’s fucking terrifying! But I decided to not be scared of her and it’s been great! She even showed me a photo a paparazzi took of her sunbathing naked”

Another pulse shoots straight down, she showed Keeley a naked picture of herself?! Who is this woman?!

“That woman’s tits are incredible! And they’re real! Can you believe that?!”

A third pulse shoots down, you feel your panties getting more wet by the minute

“What??” You try to mask the tone of surprise with confusion

“Oh come on don’t tell me you didn’t look at her tits! I mean they take up half of her chest it’s hard not to look at them”

“Uh, I mean, yeah I guess” you stutter. Keeley raises an eyebrow at you, she knows you usually aren’t lost for words like this. "I don't know dude she was fucking terrifying and she only spoke like five words!"

"Oh yeah she's absolutely terrifying,"

Phew, good save you think to yourself

"but once you get past that I think she's great! I mean, I haven't gotten too far past it just yet, but I like her!"

"If you say so! Come on show me the rest of this place!"

You divert the conversation to something else while two of you walk off towards the locker room and the coaches offices. If you two keeps talking about Rebecca, Keeley is gonna know something is up. "Well this was certainly not how I expected my first day to go, no less the first hour of my first day" you think to yourself.

You can't help but think of Rebecca for the rest of the day, both a little terrified but secretly hoping you'd see her again. You meet the team and everyone else. All of the players are really nice, except for Roy, you're convinced he only communicates in "fucks" and grunts. Sam was so sweet and then there was Jamie, who you've met before, and you still don't like him.

The day finishes just as quickly as it had started, you and Keeley walk out and see Rebecca opening the backseat door to her car. "Damn, she has a driver? She must be rich, rich" you think to yourself.

"Bye Rebecca!" Keeley shouts. Rebecca gives a half wave and climbs into the car. You make eye contact with her as she gets into the car, you're able to keep your eyes on hers without looking away this time and you swear she gives you a smirk as she closes the door. The tinted windows of the car made it hard to see, but you could almost swear that she was watching you as her driver pulled away.

Jamie walks over and puts his arm around Keeley "Come on babes, I need a foot rub" you roll your eyes at him and turn to Keeley

"Thanks for everything Keels, I had a great first day"

You two give each other a quick hug and part ways. You make your way back to your flat, not even noticing that it's colder out than it was this morning. Rebecca has been on your mind all day, tonight probably won't be much different. After a quick shower and some dinner, you crawl into bed but can't fall asleep. Your thoughts are swirling, you're not sure if you're just imagining things since you've been single for a few months now, or if Rebecca was really checking you out. You set your alarm for tomorrow and roll over hoping you'll doze off at a reasonable hour.

~ Chapter 2 will be posted soon! ~

[ncllywrites]

strict routine

wc: 1.5k

warnings: (kinda) self indulgent fic, poor gym knowledge, strength kink (i guess?), sweat/scent kink, hair pulling, abby fucks you in a chokehold, pet names (babe/baby, honey, sweet girl, bunny, etc), abby teases you a bit, mention of spit. let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: thank you to the anon that suggested i write about abby and gymrat!reader, i used that as inspo! and i apologize if the ending is weird, i've been sitting on this for months, unsure how to go about it. i'd love to hear your feedback/constructive criticism!!

“Hi baby, how was your day?” the taller girl beamed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before heading towards the staff room, most likely to leave her things with yours. “Good I guess, had to kick a couple guys out for fighting over the machines but other than that, it was pretty slow”. You called over your shoulder, double checking that Abby had locked the door behind her. When she found out that you were scheduled to work closing shifts at the gym, she promised to come around after everyone had left to keep you company and ‘protect you’ in case anyone decided to hang back in the changerooms after the last call - her words of course. Plus, if she could sneak a workout in, who was she to complain?

“My tough girl. Hey, have I ever told you how much I love a woman in uniform?” she teased, coming up behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder. “It’s literally just a t-shirt and nametag, you dork” you laughed as you pushed her away from you with your bum. You yelped when you felt her large hand come down hard on your right asscheek. “Go make yourself busy, you perv! I still have some stuff to finish before we can leave”. Shaking your head, you heard a muffled ‘still hot’ from behind you as you headed off to complete your tasks.

While you walked around checking to make sure there were no items left behind on the treadmills, Abby made her way over to the hip adductor. You tried your best to ignore her, but her grunting had become increasingly pornographic. Looking over, you caught her already staring directly at you. “Huh… Aaah…Mmh…fuck…” You couldn’t help but stare at the way her thighs flexed each time she brought her knees together, silently praying to whatever higher power that she’d let you between those same thighs and worship her like a deity. All you wanted was to mount her right there on the machine and grind your throbbing cunt all over the tensed muscles.

Your eyes caught hers and a cocky grin spread across her pouty lips. Feigning innocence, she called out to you. “Something wrong, pretty girl?” If this is how Abby wanted to play, then you’d gladly go along with it. Making your way over to her, you bent down so that your lips barely brushed the shell of her ear. “It’s gonna take more than just some pretty moans to get me going” before pecking her cheek and walking towards the back of the gym, Abby quickly following your lead.

Wiping down the cloudy mirrors, you watched as Abby added plate after plate to the ends of the bar before getting underneath. “Aiming for a new PR, babe?” Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she glanced over to you. “Yeah, something like that…” She started off slowly, almost as if she was giving you time to add the weights together before she really got into the thrust. The smug look on her face told you everything you needed to know. “What? Gotta make sure I can fuck you from each… and every…angle…” she grunted through her teeth. Your eyes widened at her vulgar words, nearly choking on your saliva. She never failed to make your skin heat up, regardless of how long you two had been together.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you glanced around the weight section as a distraction from the arousal that soaked a wet patch in your leggings, not surprised in the slightest to find dumbbells left scattered around the area. “Grown ass men need me to clean up after them like I’m their fucking mother…” you grumbled under your breath as you moved around to place the weights in their rightful spots.

As you bent down to grab the 50 lb weight, you felt a hand come to rest on your waist, another taking the dumbbell from your hands. “‘Scuse me, baby” Abby muttered in your ear, making sure to press her hips into your ass. Turning around, you looked between her face and the seat of her shorts. “What was that? Are you-” She just smirked at your shock. “Why don’t we go find out, hm?” Tipping her head towards the changerooms, she dragged you along behind her, the weights long forgotten where they laid.

Abby’s thickset arms caged you between her solid chest and a wall of lockers. With her face tucked into your neck, she left a smattering of kisses and nips in her wake. A calloused hand guided your face towards hers, mouths meeting in a clash of teeth, lips, and a hint of desperation. Your kisses began to travel further south, leaving you crouched before Abby, your hands greedily pushing her shirt up to see her toned stomach. Hurriedly yanking the top over her head, Abby refused to take her eyes off of you; God forbid she missed the way you blinked dumbly up at her from on your knees as you dragged your tongue across her happy trail, licking up the sweat that dripped down her torso.

Before you could get back up, Abby placed one foot up on the bench next to you, her large hand finding purchase at the back of your head as she forced your face deep into her clothed cunt, groaning at how you squirmed between her thighs. “You like that baby? Like my sweaty cunt in your face? Hmm?” She groaned as your muffled words vibrated against her clothed clit. “I can’t hear you honey, gotta speak up”. Yanking your head back, you looked up at her, panting, tongue practically lolling out of your mouth. “Well?”

When you took too long to answer, she tugged your head back further, causing you to wince slightly. “Fuck, I love it Abs, thank you”. Her burly stature combined with the condescending tone of her voice left your head reeling, the only coherent thing being her. “You’re fucking gross, y’know that? Practically drunk off my scent”. You nodded as best as you could given the grip Abby had on your hair. “Wan- want you so bad. Need you inside, baby, please” you begged her.

Abby dragged you to your feet by your forearm before turning you so that her chest was pressed against your back, pushing you so that your chest was against the mirror. Pinning your arm behind your back with one hand, she used the other to yank your leggings and underwear down at the same time before pulling her own shorts just below her ass, her thick strap bobbing up to press sinful kisses to your soaked cunt.

Abby ran the mushroomed tip between your folds a few times before spreading your cheeks apart, bent ever so slightly at the waist, and let a string of saliva drip from her pursed lips, past your puckered hole to help the silicone cock slip into you with ease.

“Saw how you were starin’ at my arms when I was doing curls earlier. What was going through that pretty little head, huh?” Lifting your head, you locked eyes through the mirror. “Wanted - shit - wanted you to choke me”. She brought a hand up to your throat before moving her hips faster. “Yeah? Like this?” When you shook your head no, her brows furrowed in faux confusion. “No? Oh, I know exactly what you wanted”.

Abby tucked her elbow underneath your chin, chuckling at how your eyes instantly rolled back into your head. “That it, baby? Wanted me to fuck you in a chokehold? I know, sweet girl, feels good, doesn't it?” She cooed in your ear, pressing sweet kisses to the side of your head. “Wanna rub that clit for me, honey? Can’t do all the work myself, can I?” Abby gently prompted, a warmth blooming in her chest at your garbled attempt at an apology.

Feeling your climax creeping up on you, you sank your teeth into Abby’s bicep to muffle your cries of pleasure. One look into your glassy eyes let Abby know that you weren't going to last much longer. “You look so pretty being split open on my cock, bunny. Are you close? You gonna come for me?” Pressing between your shoulder blades, Abby moved her legs wider before driving her cock into your slick walls, the fat tip kissing your g spot with each thrust. Holding yourself up on the mirror, you pressed your face to the cool glass as your orgasm hit you in waves. “Fuck Bee, too much…” Abby watched as your release left a creamy ring around the base of her dick. “So good, baby. You did so well for me” she praised, gently removing the strap from your sore hole.

Once you caught your breath, your search for something to cover up with was interrupted by a double take when your eyes glanced over the once pristine mirror, now covered in smudged fingerprints and streaks of what you could only assume was your own arousal. You rested your forehead on Abby’s shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. “I just cleaned this before you got here. I’m not doing it again…” Abby held back a snort at your frustration, half-heartedly agreeing to cleaning the mirror before you two headed home. Once Abby was dressed, she turned to exit the changeroom, only to see you standing in front of her, pressing a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels into her chest. “I’ll be in the breakroom when you’re done. Make sure you don't leave any streaks, ‘kay?”

[sky-the-trans-guy00]

Her PR Guy-Chapter 1

Disclaimer 

I wrote this story with a trans male insert because I, myself, am a trans dude, and there hasn’t been a whole lot of content in this fandom for trans men. Without further ado, this is my debut story. 

Y/N’s POV 

I met Kristie while working in Gotham’s Public Relations Department. I was a recent college graduate with a passion for sports and storytelling, yet I had little to no idea what type of world I was stepping into. My job was to run the social media accounts and help craft stories that would captivate fans and media members alike. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that my story would be worth telling someday, too.  

*** 

It was my first media day working for Gotham, and I was totally freaking out. I mean, this was my dream, one that I had fought tooth and nail for. I had never dared to imagine this possibility, but here I was, and I felt woefully unprepared.  

Get it together (Y/N)! You worked so hard to get here, and we got this. Yael believes in you, and you can conquer anything you set your mind to. You wanted so badly to have a fresh start, so take advantage of it! 

I went over to the players and introduced myself, "Hey everyone, my name's (Y/N), my pronouns are he/him, and I'm your new PR guy." A lot of the players seemed stunned, probably because I'm a guy working for an NWSL team, so I decided to clear some things up. “I’m also a proud trans man who knows that the future is female, especially in sports. I’ll be mainly working with the photographers and videographers to get content for our socials, but I’m here if you need anything.” 

Kristie’s POV

“Did anyone else find him super attractive, or is it just me?” Kristie said.  

“He’s definitely a cutie,” Ali said and Lynn nodded in agreement. 

“He could be just what the doctor ordered, with your recent breakup and everything,” added Midge.   

“He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure,” Kristie responded while looking at you as you walked away from the team, ”Let’s just hope he isn’t a fuckboy.” 

*** 

Y/N’s POV 

It’s been over a month since I introduced myself to the players, and I can’t get Kristie Mewis out of my head. She’s been flirting with me since we met, but I can barely function in her presence, not to mention I literally work for the team. Before I can get too in my head about it, I get a call from my buddy Alex.  

 “Hey (Y/N)! How’s the new job going?”  

 “It’s going well,” I replied, “I think I have a crush on one of the players, though…”  

 “I fail to see the problem, bro,” said Alex.   

 “You are a hot, eligible bachelor, and any girl would be lucky to have you. You even told me that two of the players are married, so workplace dating is obviously not a problem.” 

 “Yeah, but I’m not trying to deal with another Karen incident!” I exclaimed.  

 Karen was a close friend of mine in college who really fucked me over. I managed her campaign for Student Body President, and when she found out I had a crush on her, she flipped out and cut me off, but only after I helped her win the election. She ignored me for weeks following her win, and when we finally spoke about what had happened, she told me she thought it was best that we ‘keep it professional.’ To add insult to injury, all of our mutual friends decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I tried to take the “high road” and didn’t tell anyone my side of things until it was too late and they had already taken her side.  

 “How long are you going to let Karen control your life? You can’t keep giving other people your power, bro.”  

I knew that he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the past.  

 “Yeah, but this girl is so out of my league it’s unbelievable. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure she has a girlfriend!” 

 “You sure about that (Y/N)?” 

“Not entirely, but why would she date a loser like me when she has her pick of almost every queer athlete?” 

 Much to my chagrin, I was not athletic by any means, which was definitely an insecurity of mine. Deep down, I still felt like the sad, closeted, insecure kid with no friends that I was in High School, despite all of my work in therapy.  

“You may not be athletic, but you’re super kind and loyal as fuck. Trust me when I say that what you think you may lack in physical attractiveness pales in comparison to the type of person you are. You’re full of green flags— except for your inability to take a good selfie, which most people find endearing. Face it (Y/N), the only thing that’s standing in your way is you. You control your own destiny, and you my friend are a catch; remember that.” Said Alex

“Thanks for hyping me up, my guy. I’m going to talk to my therapist about this.” I said.

“As you should, (Y/N)! I’m here for you if you need anything, and I’m only one call away. You got this homie.”

I ended the call and reflected upon Alex’s advice. 

Everything you want is in reach and ripe for the taking! You got this (Y/N), I thought to myself.