#can i also say carlos' home is so... empty

[fairylando]

i think this don't blink might have just changed my life, not to be dramatic about it...

[pinkcaraz]

obsessed - c. alcaraz

c. alcaraz x f!reader

summary: you really don't want carlos to get a haircut.

wc: 1.3k

tags/warnings: suggestive, fluff, implied oral sex, making out.

a/n: posting this to cope with the fact that we're probs gonna lose fluffy hair pinkcaraz 😔. as you can probably tell, i don't speak spanish, so please feel free to correct me. as always, likes, reblogs, feedback, etc. are always appreciated! if you want to be tagged in any future writing, please lmk. i might make an official taglist form later if enough people want to be tagged. thanks and hope you enjoy!

it’s one of his days off. thankfully, you and carlos have been enjoying a relaxing vacation at home after several long weeks of traveling and tournaments. for the past few days, the two of you have been making the most of his time off by sleeping in and lounging around at home for most of the day. today, however, the absence of your personal heater next to you rouses you from your comfortable sleep early. you blindly pat his side of the bed just to be sure, and when you don’t find him, you lazily crack your eyes open to look for him. sitting up in bed, you find him half dressed, just starting to get ready for the day. 

“lo siento, did i wake you?” he asks apologetically while fondly watching you rub your eyes from sleep. you look so cute with your sleepy expression and wild bed hair, it makes his heart flutter. he stops what he’s doing to sit next to you on the bed and places a soft good morning kiss on your forehead. 

you yawn and shake your head smiling. “it’s okay. what are you doing? where are you going?” you ask, trying to smooth down your unruly hair. carlos laughs softly and brushes back a few strands that fall into your face.

“i thought i would go run some errands, maybe go get a haircu-”

“no!”

“‘no?’ what do you mean ‘no?’”

shit, did you just say that out loud? you’re still a little hazy from sleep, and clearly, your brain-to-mouth filter isn’t working at full capacity yet. 

when you don’t answer him right away, carlos presses on. “do you not want me to get a haircut? do my haircuts not look good?” he asks with his pretty brown puppy-dog eyes and signature pout.

you’ve really dug yourself into a hole here. “no, charlie, you always look good,” you respond quickly. and it’s true, he does always look good to you, even when he comes home with his goofy ass fade and you’re forced to mourn his soft, fluffy hair. at just the mere mention of a haircut, you’re already lamenting the loss of his current look. he’s been overseas for a few weeks now, so it’s been a while since he last went to see his barber. his hair has grown out a bit on the sides and especially in the front, where it curls and falls just above his eyes. he looks so good like this, it drives you insane sometimes. 

you distinctly remember an incident just last week where you couldn’t take it anymore and basically jumped his bones as soon as he wrapped up his post-match press conference. he had played so well that day. watching him absolutely glowing, dashing back and forth on court, had you so incredibly worked up. his hair was also slightly ruffled from a vigorous match and him occasionally brushing it out of his eyes. despite that, it still looked perfectly soft. you didn’t care that he was still sweaty from the match, you had to have him close so you could run your hands through his hair and ruffle it up even more. 

with unwavering determination, the second carlos stepped out of the press room, you were leading him down an empty hallway of the stadium. once the two of you were away from prying eyes, you had pulled him in by the collar for a searing kiss. as much as he was surprised, he knew better than to interrupt you when you were like this, so he played along, backing you up and caging you against the wall. your resulting gasp allowed him to lick past your lips, into your mouth, teasing you. with one hand still clinging to the collar of his shirt, your other hand reached up to tangle itself in carlos’ hair, bringing him impossibly closer to you. completely engrossed in you, he continued licking and nipping at your bottom lip until you were panting hard. when you gently pulled him back by his hair so you could catch your breath, he let out a soft moan, sending a shiver down your spine. your eyes met, both dark with want, and he dove back in, assertively pressing his soft lips to yours before moving to bury his face in your neck. when he tentatively nibbled at your pulse point, you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair ever so slightly. this had him increasing the intensity of his attention to your neck with a satisfied smirk on his face. you were running your fingers through his hair in appreciation when you heard voices down at the end of the hall, forcing you to drag him off of you. 

you were dreamily reminiscing about how you had quickly pulled him somewhere else more private to finish what you started when carlos’ voice interrupted your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. “then, por qué no?” he asks, referring back to you not wanting him to get a haircut.

“um…well…it’s just- uh-,” you stutter in response. you clearly have an answer – you’re a little obsessed with his hair grown out – but you don’t want to tell him that outright. feeling embarrassed from being in this position and also still slightly flustered from the memory, your cheeks burn. you get that look on your face that says you’re thinking unsavory thoughts about him, and ever-observant carlos starts to pick up on how you’re feeling at the moment.

with a mischievous grin and a teasing tone, he keeps pushing you to answer. “dime, amor. you can tell me anything.” at this point, he’s leaning in so close to you, practically crawling up your body, so you’re forced to lay back on the bed while he hovers over you.

“i just, uh, really like your hair like this is all.”

“oh, de verdad? is that really all you were thinking about? you weren’t thinking about yesterday?” he questions deviously while holding himself up on top of you, slotted in between your legs. 

yesterday. yesterday, as in, when the both of you were in the same position in bed. except, then, he was lower down, attentively nipping and sucking a path from your inner thighs upwards. your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling groans from him and directing him closer to the burning ache between your legs. that yesterday. 

uh oh, he’s caught you. he’s probably known this whole time that you’re obsessed – not that you were really trying to hide it or anything – and when you finally realize, you whine and cover your face from embarrassment. 

“well, no i wasn’t thinking about yesterday, but i am now,” you grumble out. thinking back, you subconsciously try to squeeze your thighs together at the memory, but because carlos is still positioned with an evil little smile between your legs, you can’t. you can hear him trying to hold back his laughter, so from behind your arms, you mumble, with no venom behind it, “you’re the worst.”

“ok, well if i’m the worst, then i guess i should get up so i can go get a haircut then,” he teases while moving to get up off of you. 

before he can get anywhere, you pull him back so that he’s plopped on top of you and wrap yourself around him like a koala. “nooooo, don’t go,” you whine into the crook of his neck and snuggle even closer to him. “please.” 

the way you hold him close has him melting. he can’t deny you when you’re this adorable. “ok, fine,” he mumbles endearingly into your hair as he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head. carlos then wraps his own arms around you in a bear hug and rolls over so that you’re the one laying on top of him. pulling the blankets back up, he settles the both of you back into bed so the two of you can cuddle the rest of the day away. 

taglist: @yungbludz

[amirasainz]

Can you please do amira gets her wisdom teeth removal and is so loopy and adorable, the drivers and wags heart melt?

Sure, I hope you enjoy reading this. If you have a request, let me know.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Her own kind of wisdom

Amira Sainz, Carlos Sainz Jr's beloved little sister, recently had her wisdom teeth removed. It certainly was no easy thing for her to do because, like most people, she was afraid of the dentist.

"No, please don't make me do this, Carlitos. I promise, I'll stop eating M&M's," she looked at him with big, tearful eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but this is for your own good," Carlos promised her.

She gave a tearful cry and turned to Rebecca, who was watching the whole interaction. She only shook her head sadly and petted Amira's hair lovingly.

After a dramatic goodbye with lots of tears and hugs, Amira was put under anesthesia, so she wouldn't feel anything. Thankfully, she easily fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Carlos, ever the protective big brother, was pacing up and down in the waiting room. An elderly lady was also sitting there, silently judging Carlos.

After two horrible hours, the small operation was finally done, and Carlos and Rebecca were able to see her.

As she woke up from the anesthesia, she was adorably loopy, her normally sharp wit dulled into a delightful haze.

"Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. Imagine if you get lost in the parking garage. Then you are truly Car...los. Get it?" she asked, her voice muffled because of the cotton balls inside her mouth. Carlos's only reaction was to stare with an empty expression into space.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos had made sure to let a few of his closest friends from the F1 grid know about the procedure. Before long, a small group had gathered at the Sainz family home, including Lando, Charles, Fernando, and a few of the WAGs like Carmen and Lily. (Their boyfriends weren't allowed to come, by order of the best WAGs.)

The moment the trio returned home, everyone cooed over the paddock princess.

"Oh, my beautiful baby. Are you feeling better?" and "Look at you, my love," were the first things Carmen and Lily said to her before leading her to the couch. Fernando and Charles had already prepared a princess-worthy comfy space there with lots of blankets and pillows.

Amira, her cheeks puffed up and her words slurred, tried to engage everyone in conversation, her usual shyness replaced with an endearing boldness. She babbled about how the clouds must be made of marshmallows and insisted that Lando’s hair was a shade of blue. The room was filled with laughter, everyone’s hearts melting at her innocence and charm.

Carlos, though usually the fiercely protective older brother, couldn’t help but laugh along, his protective nature temporarily overshadowed by the sheer cuteness of the situation. He made sure to capture a few moments on his phone, knowing these would be memories to cherish.

As Amira drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling sweet nonsense, the drivers and WAGs took turns sitting by her side, holding her hand, and ensuring she was comfortable. Their usual competitive edges softened.

After Amira fell asleep for real this time, cuddled up between Lily and Fernando, Charles couldn't help but say:" She really is a brave girl. If I were her, I would have already fainted seven times" making the group laugh.

"So, Lord Perceval. Where is your WAG Joris?" asked Carlos, which gained him a groan from Charles.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Part 1

Prologue

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, citation of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, angst

There's a warm breeze in the room, crossing through the space from the windows that remained open overnight, the scent of Spanish summer mixing with Carlos' aroma in the room. Carlos' arms surround me in bed, and I can't help but wake up to the kisses he spreads across my back.

"Good morning, darling," I murmur still drowsy to Carlos, turning to face him. He looks handsome in the morning, tousled hair, a silly smile on his face, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Good morning, cariño," he replies, pulling me closer into his embrace, making me laugh; his hand is gentle as it touches my face in a light caress.

"That smile of yours makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world," Carlos says, and even after all this time together, he still makes me blush with affection.

"I'm the lucky one to have you, Carlos," I lightly kiss his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," he responds.

Everything feels empty, the house filled with love and happiness now seems like a mausoleum, the hallways echoing even with people still in them, my head on the verge of collapsing along with my entire body. I feel broken, still alone, a million beautiful memories dancing in my head and wasted by the end.

Divorce. Just thinking of that word makes me nauseous. Five beautiful years shared reduced to a single piece of paper. I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen, no matter what Carlos tried; I wouldn't give that to him. Of all the long list of concessions I made to him, divorce wouldn't be added to it.

I can't go back to my room, I can't stay here without feeling the urge to go back to him, to plead and shake him until he comes to his senses, until he loves me again.

I return to the back of the house where Carlos had set aside a place for me to paint and have a moment of peace; there are many paintings hanging in that room, various phases of my life, our life. That studio was my safe haven. I close my eyes and try to breathe, pour myself a drink and put on an Etta James record.

It's when I finally look at the blank canvas in front of me, waiting to be filled, that I feel the tears rolling down, like a dam that has reached its limit.

"Y/n?" I hear Charles' voice calling me after a long time, catching me off guard. I try to quickly wipe the tears from my face, knowing it will be in vain.

"Hi," I turn to him, my voice trembling, and Charles tries not to stare at my state.

Charles is one of Carlos' right-hand men, helping him with business and also his security.

"Carlos asked me to deliver this to you," he places the same envelope from earlier on the table, and more tears roll down my eyes. He looks at me again, and I hate to seem so fragile in this moment.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, and I can't find the strength to respond; I just nod my head and hope he leaves. Although Leclerc was a great listener and a friend in his spare time, I didn't want to talk, to tell him what was going on. It would make the whole situation too real at this moment, so I just wait for him to leave so I can break down again.

I never opened the envelope; I didn't want to see what was inside, didn't want to know what I was worth in Carlos' eyes, didn't even want to negotiate how much our life together was worth. The papers went straight to the back of my closet, hidden from the world and from my eyes.

Carlos didn't sleep at home that night, even the next, and even the next four days. It was as if he was punishing me with his absence for not accepting the separation, as if leaving me wandering alone around the house would change my mind about it. The big house kept running, with staff and security guards wandering around. But Carlos didn't bother to come back home, or to take care of his own business, sending Charles back and forth all the time to pick up his papers and important things. And it's when I finally tire of this game that I decide to corner Charles.

He looks startled when he enters my husband's office and sees me there, sitting in Carlos' chair, with my Manolo Blahnik heels propped up on the table.

"Oh, Y/n... good morning, didn't expect to see you here," Leclerc sighs, and I give him a slight smile. "I came to get some things for Carlos and I'll leave you alone again."

"Actually, Charles..." I stand up and then firmly place my hands on the stack of documents he came to fetch. "The documents are staying; tell him to come get them personally."

"Y/n... Mrs. Sainz, I've been instructed to do just that," Charles replies. It hurts me to do this with him, the man had nothing to do with our marital problems but it was the only method of passing the message to Carlos.

"Don't think I'm trying to disrupt your life, Charles. Just pass on the message to him; I want him to come back home soon. He can't keep hiding in that tiny apartment forever." I lean on the table and watch his reaction as he realizes what I've said.

"Do you know where he is?" he asks me curiously.

"I found out the moment you left here on the first day," I smile cynically at Charles, "and I wouldn't want to have to go there to pay him a visit. I believe Carlos wouldn't like that either, as it would disturb the peace of the apartment's owner."

Charles still seemed surprised by the information I had. The truth was I couldn't keep dragging myself around the house in eternal sadness, wondering where my husband was. So, I took the opportunity to send my bodyguard after Charles. Lando was still young, but he was efficient and smart; he had been by my side since I moved into this house and Carlos decided it would be good for me to have some protection. As Lando was young, maybe it would be easier for me to get used to him, and it really was; we became good friends over time. Once he found out Carlos' address, it was easy to find out whose apartment it was and who the girl was.

Martina. That name sounded bitter in my head.

"I'll be keeping this for him for now, and it was good to see you, Charles," I smile, dismissing him.

I smile as I watch him leave, feeling at least somewhat victorious today. I look at his office again, pick up the picture frame I found stored earlier in the drawer, and place it on Carlos' desk again. The image makes me smile nostalgically; the photo of our wedding fills me with a bit of hope, the happiness in our eyes, love radiating from the photo. Maybe I could make everything go back to normal.

When I get up the next day, I'm not surprised to see Carlos at the table having coffee. That was good; he had come and was at home after all. He looks at me through his coffee cup, his eyes expressing no emotion, but it's comforting to have him there, sitting in our living room having coffee.

"It's good to see you," I greet him and sit next to him at the table.

"I wish I could say the same," he says, placing the cup on the table, "but you know I hate being pressured."

"I gave you five days, dear. Believe me, I was patient and kind," I fidget nervously with the ring on my finger. "Listen, we need to talk, open up to each other... Being alone in these last few days was horrible; this huge house where..."

Carlos doesn't let me finish speaking. He smiles, that kind of evil smile he gives when he's plotting something, the same evil smile I've seen so many times directed at someone else.

"I'm glad you mentioned that," he interrupts. "You were right about saying that apartment was tiny. And as you yourself said, this house is huge, so I believe you won't mind me bringing one more guest," he speaks naturally, as if he hadn't done something horrible, as if it wasn't enough to have tainted our marriage, he had to taint our home now, as if he wanted me to hate him more each day.

"You wouldn't do that," I reply shocked.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he asks, pointing to the large door leading to the garden and the pool of the house, the smile never leaving his lips.

[eroselless]

PATO - ONE

series masterlist | part 2 | part 3

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of pregnancy

note: I don’t listen to Billie Eilish all that much but my best friend got me hooked on her latest album and for some reason, Wildflower inspired me to write this. Might not have any correlation but ya know, when life give you lemons. Also here Charles and Carlos aren’t as close as they seem to be in real life. Hope you enjoy it!

MONACO, DECEMBER 2022 

You stand in the dim light of your living room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the floor. It’s a wasteland of memories—two years of them, scattered like broken glass across the carpet. You feel the ache of them pressing in, and for a moment it’s almost too much to bear. 

“I feel like I’m drowning here, all on my own,” you breathe, your voice splintered and fragile. You can barely hold his gaze, not when he looks so unfazed, so unmoved. His face is a mask you can’t seem to decipher. “You’re always gone, Charles. What are we even doing?”

Charles rubs his temple, a motion that is almost rehearsed, this conversation feeling like it's been had far too many times. “This isn’t just some passing thing,” he snaps, voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Racing is my life. I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand that!” The words tumble out, tangle with all the things you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. The sting in your eyes returns and you blink hard, but the tears come anyways, seemingly falling at a never ending pace. “But passion shouldn’t come at the expense of our relationship. You could come home, but you don’t!”

He shifts uncomfortably from across the room, his eyes darting away from yours to the carpeted floor below. His nostrils are flared in anger as you continue. When he finally speaks, it's veiled in frustration, as if he’s trying to be gentle but not quite succeeding. 

“When you do come home, which is hardly ever, it’s like you're not even here. You’re closed off, cold. We barely spend any time together, and when we do, it’s like you're trying to hide me away.”

Charles’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenching as he shoves a finger in your direction. “I keep our relationship private to protect you from the media circus, you know that!” he interjects.

You let out a heavy breath, your shoulders sagging with exhaustion. It's an excuse you’ve heard time and time again, and there's only so much of it you can handle. Your resolve wavers, your voice quiet but firm as you speak.

“I don’t care about them,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “I can handle whatever comes. But I can’t handle being invisible to you.” 

You turn and make your way down the hall, to your shared room, Charles following close behind you. All he can do is stand and watch as you start to shove things in a backpack. The silence between you is heavy, suffocating. 

As you pull on a jacket and prepare to leave, he reaches out to stop you, his voice small with confusion. “What’s happening?” he asks, his voice is softer now, vulnerable in a way that almost hurts to hear. His hand reaches for yours.

You swat it away, your own hand trembling as you do. “We are nothing but strangers bound by memories. But if you can't even be here for that, then what's the point?” you say softly. 

“You don’t need to worry about keeping us a secret anymore, Charles.”

There’s a tense silence as he struggles to process your words, tears beginning to prick at his cerulean eyes. You meet his gaze, searching for something, anything–a plea, a reason to stay. But you see none, whatever you had been hoping to find isn’t there. So you turn and slip out the door, leaving him behind in the empty silence of your once-happy home.

The train rattles forward, each clack of the wheels like a heartbeat, steady and relentless. Raindrops pater slowly against the glass, a mess of gray against the darkening world outside. Outside, the trees and grass blur together, mirroring the jumble of emotions swirling inside your chest. Your hand falls gently to your stomach, feeling the faint swell there, and you can't help but glide your fingers over it tenderly. 

With trembling fingers, you reach into your bag and pull out the pregnancy test, its plastic casing cool against your skin. It sits in your hands like a ghost, a reminder of a truth you hadn’t planned for, a future you never imagined facing alone. The two bold lines glare back at you, a stark reminder of the life beginning to grow inside you. Fear and uncertainty fill the cavities of your chest, threatening to overwhelm you. You close your eyes, tears tracing silent paths down your cheeks once again. 

Leaving Charles before telling him about the baby feels like abandoning a ship in the middle of a storm. Guilt gnaws at your chest as the train hurtles further and further away from Monaco, the distance between you and Charles widening with each passing moment. Yet the truth burns as you find yourself repeating it over and over to yourself—Charles may have been physically there, in body, but his mind has been somewhere else, somewhere distant, somewhere that was never you.

As you watch the landscape continue to blur past, your reflection in the glass is a haunting echo of the life you thought you had built.  At 21, you never expected to face the daunting prospect of motherhood on your own. It's not the path you imagined yourself on at all. You thought you would marry Charles and share the joys and challenges of this baby with him. You thought there’d be laughter, shared glances, maybe even late nights in nurseries painted with dreams But those dreams were a faint memory now, belonging to a different girl, someone you weren’t anymore. 

Charles had a way of making you feel like the world around you faded when he was around, his passion for racing a fire that burned so bright, you wanted to stay close to it and feel its warmth. You couldn’t help but love how passionate he was about racing, and admire the fire in his eyes as he chased victory on the track. But in his relentless pursuit of glory, he seemed to have left you behind with nothing but his silhouette, a mere afterthought in his quest for greatness. His fire left you feeling cold, with nothing left to hold on to but memories, shadows of a live you weren’t even sure were real. 

In that moment, you realize that in many ways, you would’ve had to raise the child on your own regardless of Charles's presence. His absence has left you feeling isolated and alone, grasping at the fragments of your fractured relationship. If you'd stayed, who knows if he would have changed? The uncertainty weighs heavily on your heart, threatening to drag you under.

With a sigh, you feel yourself sag further into the train seat, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. The ticket inspector’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you hastily produce your ticket, handing it over to him with a shaky hand. Your fingers feel numb as you watch him scan it, barely managing a polite nod.  

Across the aisle, you catch the gaze of a woman's eyes full of unspoken sympathy as she watches your fingers tighten around the pregnancy test. You give her a tight-lipped smile as the ticket inspector hands back your ticket before turning back to the window, your gaze fixed on the blurring landscape outside as you hurtle toward an uncertain future.

a/n: a little short for the first chapter but they’ll be a little longer in the future, hope you guys enjoy this first one :) also if you made it this far, I just wanted to share that the word pato means duck. It's not too important for now but it will be later! As always, thank you for reading!

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Aussie remedy - Restaurant Manager! Daniel Ricciardo x reader

cw: descriptions of having a cold/being sick and going to work, tasty power imbalance, oral (m receiving), temp play (ice), slight degradation and mean!daniel, coercion if you squint, horny trumps professionalism, spoiler tag that rhymes with ****** ******

Daniel pocketed his uniform pants for his lighter and came up empty-handed. He let out a groan when he couldn't find the precious object. That meant he had to go back to the crew changing room and find it in his jacket. This whole exercise ate a minute from his precious 5. Maybe smoking cigarettes was a disgusting habit he should quit. But managing so many hotheaded people every day was getting a little bit too much for the 35 year old. And even though lately, he's been using some unorthodox methods of stress relief, good old nicotine was still a need.

He didn't expect to be stalled again, but he heard the others through the open back door. They were talking about you. Hearing them speak your name did something to him. Because it had practically become his, with the amount of times he'd whisper it, moan it, grunt it. But to see it followed by "isn't she so incompetent today" and "she looks fucking spaced out". Apparently someone even overheard you saying that you were feeling sick after the holidays. Daniel wonders why you would even show up. He has to hide in the trash room to avoid the gossiping smokers. Having to speed through his cigarette, his fingers still reek of nicotine as he holds his clipboard. He looks at it. At you. You've been at your shift for a couple of hours already, while he's only been around you for 15 minutes. You seemed fine. But as he looks at you from across the shitty fast food restaurant, he notices that you are slower. You're forgetting sauces or mispacking orders, forcing customers to have to circle the drive-through. The response time is in the dumps and you're fucking coughing. He can see you sneeze trying to blame it on dust. He is fucking livid. It all tips over when he sees you slink off to the drink station and drop a tablet into a sprite filled crew cup.

What the fuck were you doing? Were you serious going to take meds with a fucking soda on the job? That was it. He moves past you and asks you to come and check something about your mandatory lunch break times. You agree immediately, nodding. But that's not enough for Daniel.

"Can I get a verbal confirmation?" He says, testing you, teasing you, using his bedroom voice.

"Yes." You say finally, but your voice is rough and scratchy. He can hear you're sick. He gets even more pissed. Especially when you take your FDA disapproved drink and follow him. He locks the door behind you, and you're already scrambling to undress on the couch that's cramped in the corner.

"That's not why I called you in, Jesus. Are you ill? No, let me be clearer. Are you showing up sick to work, creating a health hazard for not only your colleagues but also the customers?" Daniel says, full manager mode. He half-listens to your spiel about how you already had time off for both Christmas Eve and the day after. Not that he didn't know, you two spent the holidays in "couples" mode, going on cute little winter dates, sharing hot cocoa and the like. But for the actual end of the night, he left you to "party" with your friends like it was traditional for you. What you failed to mention is that you cramped too many girls into your single small room. And as the host, with only one bed, you took the floor. Danny had an opening shift on the 25th, so presents and the rest were left for New Years. Which you only managed to get off thanks to a shift swap. Daniel remembered signing off on that, happily allocating you to a time slot close to his. That's why it's weird for him to tell you.

"Go home."

"No." You reply.

"I'm sorry, no?" He wonders. Since when did you wear the white button-down in the relationship?

"I work closing. Judging by the fact that Carlos came in before you, I'm guessing you do too. I wanna help you out. It's just a stuffy nose." You say, reaching out for your apron pocket. You mock press the nasal spray lightly.

"Put it on, then. Let's see it fix you." He says, eyes dark.

You roll your eyes slightly. You've never seen Danny pissed off at you. Yeah, he'd been a little mean when you'd mess up a few ice creams in a row or stall a customer. But that was just a front to dispel any "special treatment" rumors. Still, you take a funky position on the couch, tipping your head off it. Gotta tilt the spray in properly. You sniff and cough a little, opting to breathe from your mouth. Daniel just watches you, and feels complicated. He's sorry for you, and that you're suffering. He's pissed that you put yourself in that situation in the first place. His doll, too fucking nice to tell other people that they can take the floor since the gathering is in your fucking house. Livid that you hid this from him and that you're still not understanding that it's a big deal. Oh, he could teach you. Watching you like this reminds him of an article he thumbed through once in men's health or something. An upside down blowjob was supposed to feel very intense. That was one way to ensure you're breathing through your nose.

"You ever seen the old Spiderman movies, darling?" He asks as he bends down to kiss you. It takes getting used to. It's a bit clumsy, but you're on him, hot and needy. He remembers the last time he had a partner before you and how they were like a cat in heat when they were sick. Danny keeps kissing you, and smirks at your needy, yet nasal whine. Your breathing sounds a bit clearer, albeit the occasional interruption by a cough.

"Wanna try an Aussie cure? A big thick lozenge to remind you to listen." He suggests, palming his election. Daniel knows that even a little kissing has gotten you horny. He knows that his white uniform shirts and presses pants do it for you. The name tag too. Once you jokingly pinned it to your underwear, claiming that you'd wear it like that. You were lucky you did this on a day off, because he let you cum only at the phrase "My pussy belongs to my manager, Daniel Ricciardo." moaned out louder each time. So he's not surprised when you beg for his cock, asking him to "warm your throat.". He slides unbuttons his pants and slides them to his knees, along with his boxers. He doesn't let you start off with kitten licks, or kisses to his tip. No, he buries himself to the hilt, til your bottom lip is in his happy trail and your nose is right against his scrotum. Fuck it, men's health was right. You attempt to take him, to move, to suck, to hollow your cheeks, something. But no avail. Danny controls the pace, his thick hips thrusting in and out. Until you gag. He slides out and it's messy. Your saliva drips out, landing straight on your forehead and rolling down.

"Look who can't breathe through their nose properly. Say sorry to the customers and we can try again." You echo the sentence and he's gentler this time. More careful, but faster, and when his fingers trace your neck, you gag again. This time it's worse, more coughing and almost sputtering. He has you apologize to the crew and for the third time slides his throat past your lips. This time it's the last bit of minty nasal spray hitting you. You gag again. After a "I'm sorry, manager Daniel, sir.", it's fine. You can breathe properly and finally get the hang of it. You hollow your cheeks and fucking moan at the relief of breathing properly again. You try to angle your tongue so it can brush against your boyfriend's tip and it works. After a few more thrusts, Danny's coming down your throat, instructing you to swallow it all. You do. You use the back of your apron to wipe any drool or snot from your face. You're ready to return to the floor when he stops you.

"Now, where are you going, darling. You look absolutely flushed. No way you're going out this red. Let's cool you down." He says. In about 20 seconds he's out the door and back again. You look at his hand and see it holding ice in a plastic blue glove. The machine for it was right across, you reason. Daniel makes you strip naked, not wanting to make your uniform "messy". He rubs the ice cube against your nipples, listening to you plead and moan that it's cold.

"I bet it is, but you have to learn, doll. This is your punishment for not staying home. Bad girls have to deal with this if they wanna stay until closing. Which you do, don't you?". He asks. With almost a sob, yes, you let the freezing object burn against your hot skin. Danny slides it from one breast to another, tongue replacing it . His beard against your sensitive nipples makes you trash around and swear. Your manager's hand slides down your soaked underwear, and he slides it to the side. The icecube leaves your chest and is pressed against your entrance.

"Will you let me do this, doll? Let me make you feel nice and cool inside? Let boss Danny become doctor Danny, yeah. Let me show my sick girl what's good for her?" He asks, letting you back out. You both know that one word (chili sauce, for those curious), and you're done. But you don't say that. You want this, albeit in your slightly delusional state. You want to cum at work, to leave your mark on the leather couch, to have Daniel take you there using the same stern voice as he does when you need to refill the shake machine. When you say the titular, "Yes, please." , he holds you open and slides the ice cube in. The best things about these frozen things from the machine? They don't melt, like the ones in ordinary households. The cold is shocking, and Danny shushes you as you squirm around. His two fingers on your clit certainly make it better. He wastes no time, seeing how wet you are.

"All soaked for me, aren't you. Waiting on me to ruin you. Bet you wanted to get on my nerves tonight to make everything harder on your old man, Daniel. I know why you wanted to be on closing shift, so I could take you home and fuck you. Give you some vitamin D for your cold." He teases, rubbing, listening to the wet, squelching noise. Almost like ocean waves on his favorite beach in Australia. He starts to daydream of taking you there and the other way of taking you there when there's a pounding at the door.

"Daniel, there's a customer asking for allergy information and we need a manager." Your colleague says through the door.

"Just ask Liam, he's next in line for the promotion anyway. I don't care that he's just a crew trainer." Danny says, looking at you. You're close, he knows your tells. Your eyes closing, your legs that he has to keep spread, your bottom lip between your teeth.

"He went on lunch and refuses to clock back in." They reply.

"Shit, okay, just give me a sec to save this document.". In record time Daniel redresses you, sans bra and panties though. He makes sure your apron is around your neck and not your waist and helps you stand up. You can feel the icecube inside of you are about to plead for him to not do this. But there's no use. You deserve this. You played stupid games and now it's time to collect your stupid prizes. You just hope you can sneak out and take a five minute break when Danny lets you. You didn't wanna end up even more sick, after all.

[cheriladycl01]

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 6

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

'Where is Y/N Y/L/N' was the talk of the paddock on the coastline of Miami after you missed media day on Thursday. Zhou was there alone trying his best to make funny content but clearly the lack of you there was affecting him.

The presenters for Sky Sports also could tell there was a lack of you in the paddock. Obviously it was still loud thanks to Lando and those kinds of energies.

But where it was media day people didn't think too much of it, maybe you slept in and was too embarrassed to rock up late, or maybe you missed your Wednesday flight ... or maybe you'd been asked by your PR team not to show up because of everything with you and Lewis in the media right now.

There was a lot of noise around Lewis and you. A lot of it wasn't kind either, the worst being that people assumed you slept your way into your seat as the only woman in F1. This started a spiral of hate towards you, people had somehow doxed you and death threats had been sent to your home and you couldn't even log into your socials because it was so bad.

When you didn't arrive for the first free practice that's when more attention was brought to your absence.

"Have you guys seen Y/N?" Carlos asks the little group he was stood with, concerned he hadn't seen you.

"No, she wasn't here yesterday for media day and she didn't come out in FP1, her side of the garage was actually so slow and empty. Their main focus was on getting Zhou out!" Lando admitted having seen with his own eyes what your absence had done to the team.

"As a rookie it's risky missing free practice, maybe they'll announce a replacement for her tonight?" Charles offers sipping on his drink that he'd taken with him from their hospitality.

"I can't believe it, I wonder what's going on!" Daniel nods, wondering why the paddock princess wasn't here.

Things got stranger when you also didn't turn up for FP2 on the same day.

You also weren't there the next morning and everyone was thinking Alpha Romeo were going to have their first DNS of the season where you still weren't around.

It was around 20 minutes until qualifying was supposed to start when someone noticed your paddock pass had been scanned in. They sent someone from the FIA to search and see if it was a mistake or if you had in fact come in.

By the time someone reached the garage to ask you were already in your car waiting to come out for qualifying. You were nervous as hell, you'd missed out on all the free practices and never driven the Miami circuit.

You drove out and ended Q3 in P14, one away from the cut off and it was on a lap where you'd only just managed to get passed the flag in time to get that vital last lap in. Zhou despite having been around the whole weekend and participating in all the free practice sessions didn't have as great a run as you coming P17 and being eliminated for Q2.

Come Q2 and the commentators were in shock with how quickly you were coming to grips with the track. You were only a few tenths of a second off Lando's time coming in P6, a drastic change from your previous result.

You stayed sat in the car in Q3, everyone in the garage knew you didn't really want to talk right now. So it was only you engineer talking to you every now and then telling you stats and times.

Q3 again was pretty good and you were managing to start P5. And considering the week you've had you felt really good about that result.

The rest of the weekend just had awkward vibes, you could tell in your post race interviews how much you didn't want to be there.

"Y/N, it's great to see you back around here and what a great result for you despite being absent for all your free practice sessions!" the interviewer says and you just nod, it wasn't a question. It was a statement so you didn't have to answer.

"How do you feel about that result?" they ask.

"Yeah, good. I think I got as much as I could out the car as I could!" you reply and the interviewer sighs knowing this would be a hard interviewer seeing as this was the first time they were experiencing icy and cold Y/N.

You ended up the interviews quickly, your PR apologizing to the last few saying you wouldn't be doing any more of them.

You went back to the hotel exhausted, just wanting to sleep and get this weekend over.

Twitter was going crazy over how you had been acting in your interviews, your fans specifically were really concerned and of course because it was brought up online all the other drivers saw their reactions and had to go look for themselves.

The ones who hadn't really interacted with you just put it down to an off day, which did happen with drivers particularly rookies who were being too hard on themselves which wasn't uncommon in the newbies.

But for those who did know you and had made the effort to welcome you to the sport, like Zhou, like Carlos, like Lewis, like Charles and Lando and George and Alex ...

They all could tell something was seriously wrong, but it seemed impossible for anyone to get hold of you.

Even the next day on race day, you showed up in the paddock for the national anthem of America, and were ushered straight to your car by your PR team, all the other drivers sharing a look of confusion.

You looked so exhausted and worn out, but they didn't know why.

The race wasnt good, as well as being tired from a severe lack of sleep, there was also your mental state affecting your drive. So you went from P5 down to P7, still in the points but it just didn't really feel ... good enough and you went back to the hotel disappointed.

Your PR team had refused you do any media after the shit show you caused with your bluntness yesterday and thoughts it's best to send you on your way to Switzerland to sort everything out that had been happening and get ready for Spain.

"Charles, she wont answer me..." Carlos had complained to Charles worried about the young driver.

"I don't know Carlos, we're all routing for her and hoping she's okay but maybe she just needs some time alone because of all the pressure. She the first in years to be here, as a woman you know... i cant imagine the pressure she's been feeling" Charles explains with a sigh.

"Mmmmm Toto have you heard anything about Y/N... she's well I don't think she's okay!" Lewis asked his boss in the Mercedes garage.

"Mmmm nothing, but i'll reach into my contacts. I knew her since she was 13 because she was the frist female Mercedes Development Driver/ Young Driver we sponsored. It's a shame really she isn't driving for one of our teams" Toto sighs, knowing Lewis wanted answers starting to tap away on his phone.

You knew these people cared about you, but right now... what you were dealing with and experiencing, you didn't want to drag any of them into.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[litcest]

The Carnivorous Lamb, by Agustín Gómez-Arcos

L’Agneau carnivore (or 'The Carnivorous Lamb' in English) is a novel by Spanish author Agustín Gómez-Arcos, first published in 1975. The work was originally written in French, as Arcos had sought asylum in France during the Franco Dictatorship in Spain.

The novel is considered by many to be an allegory to Francoist Spain, and tells the story of two brothers who are in love with each other. It's a deeply romantic novel and I highly recommend it for those who enjoy poetic prose. I am also absolutely in love with the cover from the 1986 edition:

The book opens with Ignacio waiting for the return of Antonio, his older brother, who had been in a self imposed exile in the US for the past seven years, during which time he had gotten married, and was now returning to their family home in Spain. Ignacio had been living in France and their parents were dead, so the house had sat empty for a long time.

While Ignacio waits and cleans the houses, he recalls the memories of his childhood, of how he had been born with his eyes shut, and they remained shut for sixteen days, until they opened and saw Antonio, who had been watching and protecting Ignacio during that whole time.

Their mother, a deeply religious woman, comes to despise Ignacio for his temporary blindness, believing it to be the Devil's doing. And so, even after Ignacio opens his eyes, he is left in the care of five-years-old Antonio.

"He waited sixteen days to open his eyes! [...] Without hesitating, he looked straight at his brother, staring at him as if he were trying to hypnotize him. [...] He never looked at me. Or at his father either. His unblinking eyes were still locked on his brother's."

Sharing a room, Ignacio and Antonio grow up very close, with Ignacio admiring his older brother. When Antonio reaches puberty, the relationship between the brother starts to become more sexual as they explore Antonio's body together. The "smell of sulfur" becomes associated with their experimentations, as their mother claims that their shared room smells like when she orders the maid to exchange the stained sheets for new ones.

"I could feel Mother standing motionless behind me, like a cat about to pounce. I deliberately looked at my brother's undershorts, at the burning needle that had shot hot sulfur onto my belly for the first time the night before."

The "smell of sulfur" is not literal, serving as an allegory to represent the sinful nature of Ignacio and Antonio's relationship, as sulfur is associated with the Christian Hell and their mother was very Catholic. In fact, their relationship can be considered doubly sinful, as they are practicing both sodomy and incest. But their mother doesn't stop them, despite letting them know that she is aware of what they are doing, she can't be bothered to actually interfere in her son's life. As for their father, Carlos, he was absent, often locked in his office, not paying attention to his wife and children.

"Mother often blamed my passionate love for you on that absent God. She always suspected you of taking His place in my conscience."

Ignacio doesn't do much, not being allowed to live the house, and spends his days at home, waiting for Antonio to return from school so his older brother can give him his daily afternoon bath. When Antonio starts staying late in school to study, Ignacio feels betrayed, as if his brother was placing him in second place. When the maid tries to bathe him in Antonio's place, Ignacio begins to cry, causing their mother to say that she is "sure he prefers his brother's hands."

"On that very day, I finally understood that the bath my brother gave me every afternoon at exactly four o’clock wasn’t just my daily bath, strictly speaking, but a ritual strewn with caresses, ripe with still unnamed desires."

However, they continue their nightly ritual of laying in bed together, where Antonio and Ignacio played with each other's body until they came.

"Antonio panted like an animal as I moaned his name and clawed at the nape of his neck, and the room, the night, and everything disappeared in a whirlwind of uncontrollable love. We didn’t even realize when the orgasm burst out. It was a shaft of light I fell into, clinging to my brother with my arms, my legs, my nails, my teeth."

Since Ignacio is not enrolled in school, Antonio takes upon himself to teach his brother everything he learns in class.

"Just the same, my brother neglected neither his studies nor my education. From natural science, we went on to caresses, from breathlessness to multiplication. Never will I be able to untangle eroticism from the earliest things I learned. Two times two is four kisses, and so forth."

One day, while Antonio is at school and their mother is out of the house, Ignacio visits their father's office room. After some conversation, in which Ignacio lies about not knowing how to read, Ignacio kisses Carlos and then runs out of the room.

Apparently, Carlos gets more appalled by his son not knowing how to read than kissing him, and so he pressures the mother to hire a tutor, even though the mother doesn't feel the need for. During the conversation, which Ignacio overhears, the mother once more states that she knows that there's something going on between the boys.

"Your son Antonio is teaching him all sorts of things in the other room. Maybe more than he should. [...] How to read and write, for one thing. They’re always together. They are the only family unit in this house, the only couple … with all that entails."

"Mother was well aware of everything that happened between Antonio and me. She didn’t give a damn about our sexual relations, but she couldn’t stand the universe of love my brother sheltered me in. My insolent stare clearly told her that I didn’t consider myself abandoned by God."

Carlos, upon hearing this, ignores and goes back to work. Either way, they do hire a tutor, don Pepe, who is very strict and uses physical discipline to get Ignacio to comply. When Antonio learns that Pepe had used his cane to beat Ignacio's ass, Antonio gets furious. The next day, when don Pepe arrives, Antonio confronts the tutor and punches him, threatening to do worse if Pepe dares to touch Ignacio again.

"Man's body, if you've read the Gospel, is a temple. And that particular body, my brother's body, is my temple. I've worshipped there since I was ten, if you know what I mean"

Their mother sees the scene and, always trying to keep her role as proper lady, invites Pepe for tea to make up for her son's behaviour. Meanwhile, Antonio takes Ignacio back to their room and they have sex with the door completely open, with the intention to make a statement. After they are done, Antonio decides to go downstairs for their evening tea, dressingo only in a robe, with Ignacio following suit. In the parlor, they sit down with their mother and don Pepe, who was still on rest after the punch. They all made small talk and Antonio pulls out a cigarette, further showing his rebellion against his mothers authority.

"Casually smoking in front of Mother may have been my brother's way of saying that he had decided to fight parental authority and the ludicrous world she had enclosed the two of us in. It was obvious that he would never again submit to her insane tyranny of silence. Ever since coming home unexpectedly an hour before, Antonio had been raising the ante of his rebellion. No more submission. He was spreading the freedom he had won in his relations with me to the whole house, and - for all I knew - was already doing the same in the world outside."

Antonio also reveals his plans to become an engineer and further presses that Ignacio should be allowed to go to school and visit town. There's only one issue with Ignacio attending public school: he wasn't baptized. The mother then hurries to plan both a baptism and a confirmation ceremony for Ignacio so that it would be complete in time for the September semester. All is arranged quickly, and the mother asks that Antonio be Ignacio's godfather since she considers that "duty that arises from the social contract, which is more powerful than family love". And so, while the proper rites are being performed on Ignacio, Antonio was holding him from behind, and he takes the opportunist position to finger Ignacio's asshole.

"I felt we had just carried out a heroic action, one of our very first steps in subversion, and no one could point a finger at us. It was braver and sweeter than when we embraced alone in our room, and though the cold sweat on my forehead could have meant any number of things, only my brother and I really knew why it was there."

After it's done, Clara, the maid, suggests that she and Ignacio accompany Antonio on his walk to school, so that Ignacio can see the town. They walk around for a bit, before reaching the school, where Antonio kisses Ignacio goodbye (on the lips!) and heads inside.

"Finally, my brother said he couldn’t miss his other classes, kissed me on the lips (in front of everyone, the bastard!) and left us for his friends."

The priest starts coming everyday to give evangelization lessons to Ignacio, and also to make advances towards the boy, who rejects them in loyalty to Antonio. When it comes time for the first communion, the whole family (minus Carlos, the father) goes to the country house, alongside the priest. Ignacio and Antonio are placed in separate rooms, much to their dismay, and in the first nights, they have problems sleeping alone.

"My hands went to the places where I was used to feeling my brother's touch. They found nothing but a soft desert, and stiffened with tension, like lizard’s tails chopped off with a stick. In vain, my back searched for my brother's chest, belly, thighs, where it had always rested. At night, my body felt so cut off from my brother's I was sure it would stop working."

Before the communion, Ignacio must confess his sins to the priest, who lets Ignacio know that the mother had already told him of Ignacio and Antonio's closeness. Ignacio teases the priest while recounting his nights with his brother, causing the priest to have a hard on. The priest asks if Ignacio wants to see it, but Ignacio says that he doesn't, that the priest smells bad, while Antonio smells good.

During the communion, Antonio kisses Ignacio in front of the priest, making for a very awkward moment for their mother, but no one comments on it. After it's done, Antonio invites Ignacio for a walk on the farm, since it's their future property. Together they climb some hills and find a cave with a spring, where Antonio lays Ignacio down and penetrates him in the ass for the first time. They stay there for many hours, making love time after time, and confess their love for each other.

"Gradually, I noticed that his caresses had changed character, that his hands were trying to make me aware of what they were doing and of my own body's response. I was in the presence of someone new, a man who up to then had always kept his real desire in check, and was at last going to satisfy it in me."

While the brothers wait for school to start again, Antonio finally starts taking Ignacio to the town on the regular, despite their mother's disapproval. They don't bother keeping their relationship a secret, with Antonio flaunting it in front of everyone in town. Some people would throw disapproving glances at them, but mostly people stay quiet due to the family being very rich and influential. Or rather, having once been rich, as soon they would start to have financial troubles.

"Antonio went everywhere with me now, his arm draped around my shoulders, and didn't hesitate to kiss me in public whenever he felt like it, even if there were people around."

"Everything that went on between my brother and me was in the family, and the family is sacred."

One night, Ignacio spies as their parents have their anniversary dinner, and during that conversation, Carlos tells his wife that he thinks that "Tonio is sodomizing the boy". Their mother laughs, as she had already known of that for a long time and even had tried to tell Carlos about it, but he was absent from the family daily life that he hadn't seen it until then. Either way, the mother reassures Carlos that it's alright, comparing with how Carlos and her had had anal sex before their marriage (so that she would still be a virgin on the wedding day). She says that they shouldn't interfere, even going as far as saying "in giving birth to them, I was bringing into the world a hunger for life beyond the margins of normalcy", indicating that she had indeed come around to support her son's relationship.

In September school starts and Antonio busies himself studying for his degree, leaving Ignacio feeling lonely.

"There was still tenderness, of course, but it was as distracted as the look you give a landscape you know too well. It was as if he weren't seeing me anymore, even when he looked right at me."

Soon enough, however, Ignacio meets a classmate called Galdeano, and they start an affair. At home, Ignacio is still with Antonio, who continues to be distant due to his focus on studying engineering. Ignacio suspects that Antonio knows of Galdeano, and simply doesn't care, knowing that it's nothing serious. And indeed, it isn't, Ignacio is just keeping himself buzzy while Antonio studies.

"No one, not Galdeano, not any of the others, could compare with my brother Antonio in bed. That was his domain, and so was my body, where he expressed all his masculinity to perfection."

Then, for further tragedy, Carlos gets very sick and so their mother goes with abroad with him to try to get help from expert doctors. Carlos had cancer and the treatment is costly, forcing the family to sell painting and tapestries.

During this time, the brother's relationship falls into ruins, as Antonio can't bring himself to be intimate with Ignacio while their father is sick. One night, Antonio decides to move into another room, but his conviction doesn't lasts long and he quickly crawls back to Ignacio. Still, Ignacio marks this moment as the beginning of the end for them.

After Antonio graduates, he gets a job offer in Venezuela and accepts it. While he reassures Ignacio that he still loves him, Ignacio is upset and becomes distraught after his brother leaves. With only him and Clara in the house, he starts to get very lonely.

"There was no way I could sleep in our bed; "our" room had become a sounding-box that relentlessly echoed the obsessive memory of my brother's voice."

Soon after, Carlos dies. The family is forced to sell their city house and move to the country side. Now only three of them, Ignacio, his mother and Clara, they settle in a boring routine, doing only enough to survive. After a few months, Antonio sends a letter announcing his marriage to Evelyn, the daughter of the owner of company he works for. Ignacio freaks out, screaming and using the letter as toilet paper.

Even their mother is disappointed, writing in response that "you forgot too quickly that you were already married. So you are nothing but a traitor". Still depressed over the loss of Carlos, the mother dies. Not knowing what else to do, Ignacio leaves Spain, despite never having finished his studies.

He never answers any letters that Clara or Antonio sends him, living as a recluse until he gets the message announcing Antonio's return to Spain, which brings us back to the beginning of the book.

After days of Ignacio waiting for him, Antonio arrives in their childhood home along with Evelyn. Ignacio is glad to see him again, but is deeply jealous of Evelyn. For a while, the three live like that in the house, Antonio playing husband to Evelyn and Ignacio sulking in his room. Until Antonio can't hold himself anymore and reaches out to Ignacio, and they have sex once again.

"You cover me with your trembling body. And I don’t know if I am hearing your words from inside or outside. But I hear them. As I smother. Your lips race over my face in a panic, like hot compresses to break my fever. A fever from that abscess which is all of me, which has to burst once and for all."

"Your pajamas are getting too tight, so you take them off, and enter me. And there are no more words. At last, I know you have become my brother Antonio again."

When Evelyn goes to check on why Antonio is in his brother's room for so long, Antonio lies that Ignacio is sick and he needs to take care of him. He keeps repeating this line day after day, until finally Evelyn comes to the conclusion that her husband is cheating on her with his own brother and decides to leave back to the US. Antonio is not sad to see her go. Ignacio and Antonio go the country house and explore the hills where they had once had sex and they reaffirm their love for each other and their intend of being together despite what society thinks it's right or wrong.

"I love you because you're mine. I love you because I possess you. I love you because you need love. I love you because you're disorder, and I don't like order. I love you because when you look at me I feel like a hero, and always have. I especially love you because I've finally understood that I can't talk about my love to anyone else but you, and that's what real love is. Two beings who make up one solitude, one silence."

In the city, they find Clara, and she moves with them, as she had always had a motherly role in their lives as children and is now the only family they have left. She's also supportive of their relationship, telling Antonio she's glad that Evelyn went away, as "you only love once in your life, and you've already been in love for a long time".

Clara, who narrates the last chapter, then proudly presides over a (not-so-official) wedding for Antonio and Ignacio, and they celebrate their reunion, that will hopefully last forever.

"I asked them to stand side by side in front of me, and I asked the older one: 'Do you take your younger brother in marriage?' 'I do,' he answered, his eyes bluer than the night sky. I asked the little one: 'Do you take your older brother in marriage?' 'Yes,' he answered, his eyes deeper than the night sea."

[the-shit-show-must-go-on]

The bees in my head are a buzzing so I bring yet another WTNV headcanon

So obviously Cecil is very much so not human, and I like to think that he doesn’t technically need to do human things to survive like eat or sleep. I feel like as long as he can do the radio show he can keep on going, if he goes without radio though he starts to not do so great. Adding on to that idea though I think that Carlos absolutely does not know this, and when they moved in together Cecil was too anxious to admit that he doesn’t eat all that often so he just started eating every day because he didn’t want to worry Carlos. And Carlos, being the wonderful boyfriend that he is, starts packing lunches for Cecil to take to work because I feel like Carlos is one of those people who shows affection via food y’know? So all of a sudden Cecil just starts showing up to work with like themed lunches like those people on TikTok make.

Later Cecil discovers that while he doesn’t need to eat food to live he suddenly feels so much better because his body is actually getting nutrients and as it turns out even eldritch radio hosts can benefit from eating their veggies

(Also I think when Carlos was in the Desert Otherworld Cecil went back to rarely eating only this time he was well aware of how horrible he felt because of it because his body had finally gotten used to you know not being incredibly malnourished. Carlos notices how the fridge is completely empty when he gets back and how nothing in the kitchen has moved at all, he doesn’t say anything but he absolutely makes sure that Cecil never goes a single day without at least one home cooked meal ever again)

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Lucifer the cat

Ivy asks Jace and Harry Badun to go get Carlos for her, and they have barely any choice but to oblige. But hey, at least they’ll finally give Carlos back his cat.

Technically a bonus scene for Dead Beauty AU, but I think it can be read separately. I hope.

For @hannahhook7744! I hope you like it! ♥♥♥

„Harry! Jace!“ Ivy’s shrill voice sounds through the Hell Hall and Jace Badun sighs.

„Come here!“

Not a heartbeat later, Diego calls out too:

„It’s urgent!“

Of course it is.

Of fucking course it is.

Still, Jace has little to no choice but to come – well, his other choice is not coming and risking the deVil heirs complaining to their Auntie. And, well, Jace likes his ears working and also still attached to his body, thank you.

So, he puts down the rag he was using to shine some of Cruella’s, eh, decorations, and sets out to find his cousin: Ivy did call for both of them, and he is not paid enough to deal with this alone.

…Actually, he’s not paid at all.

Not that anyone asked.

He locates Harry easily enough, and doesn’t bother looking for his dad or uncle – if they’re in the villa, they heard, and if they’re out running errands for Cruella, they won’t be home for hours.

„What did she want?“ Harry asks as they walk, and even that question echoes. That’s just a thing Hell Hall does, and Jace should be used to that after all this time.

Still, this house just gives him creeps.

„I’m sure we will find out soon enough,“ he grunts out in between his teeth, trying to hide his irritability.

You see, one can never tell where Ivy’s requests will land: It may be anything from „I want the new issue of this fashion magasine“ through „I run out of the Overgrowths tea mix“ (which she regularly tries to poison herself with) to „Hey yeah help me get rid of this body real quick.“

„It’s not another body, is it,“ whispers Harry, as they’re nearing the apartment Ivy currently uses.

And, yeah, hopefully not:

„Diego could handle that,“ answers Jace.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Both cousins know what Diego de Vil is capable of, and neither wish to discuss it; the fall into silence, which lasts up until they finally find Ivy. And Diego.

And – somehow unsurprisingly – Claudine Frollo, who sits curled up into Ivy.

Jace doesn’t bother with greetings.

„What did you want?“ he asks flatly.

Only now the de Vils drop the horrendous talk about each other’s situationships –

 Somehow undisturbed by their presence <i>or</i> by Claudine’s – and Diego adresses them:

„You need to find Carlos and tell him to see us in the tree house, as soon as he can,“ he informs them, „Tell him, I don’t know. Tell him we’ve got his cat or something.“

Oh, what a joy.

Jace just hopes Cruella didn’t yet hear about her wayward son, and that she never will; Harry subtly nudges him to look at the empty weapon’s case. Jace thinks that if he ignores that hard enough, it will not become his problem.

Well, desperately hopes, more like.

„We do have his cat,“ he says instead of that, and bites his lip instead of adding  „You know that, right?“ because of course they don’t.

The cat probably wouldn’t have survived Hell Hall otherwise.

Actually very possibly wouldn’t survive, based on the face Claudine is pulling.

(Jace had thought they might have Frollo’s daughter’s sympathies, once, but he had stopped trying to catch her eye a long time ago.)

„You do?“

Yeah, Jace isn’t the slightest bit surprised they didn‘t know, he elbows Harry for not bothering to hide his snort of amusement.

„Well, good for you, I suppose,“ Ivy sighs, barely bothering to pretend like she cares, „Now go get him.“

She shooes at them with her cigarette and in that moment she looks so much like her aunt that both cousins only just manage not to flinch.

They get out of her rooms without another word.

„So Carlos is back, huh,“ Harry says when they’re safely out of hearing range.

„Guess he is.“

There isn’t much more to say.

„Did you hear anything?“

You see, news travel fast on the Isle.

Jace has to think about that for a moment: Hermie hadn’t said anything, the half street rat that she is, but Yzla:

„Yzla said there was some commotion at the salon last time she was there – maybe it could be related?“

For, you see: Villain kids drama always ends up at the Tremaine salon.

(And Yzla, being a Villain kid herself, she would know.)

„Probably,“ agrees Harry half-heartedly. They don’t speak again, as neither wants to confront their feelings about the youngest de Vil returning, they don’t speak until they reach the run-down room in the darker entrails of Hell Hall that they share.

„Pspspspsps, Lucifer, good kitty-cat, psps,“ Jace whispers to the room while Harry ruffles around to find his boxer and knife – Isle streets are tough and the so-called sidekick privledge only goes so far.

The only answer is the vaguely murder-y hissing of the cat.

Still, following the sound, Jace bends down to look under the bed and sure enough: Lucifer is there, his eyes glowing as his namesake’s.

„Come here,“ Jace sighs, reaching under the bed. He doesn’t flinch or even hiss when the cat scratches him bloody.

„You! You are going back to Carlos, you know that!“

Nevermind how Yzla will pout at losing the kitty she could play with anytime, Jace and Harry will be happy to have the animal out of their hair.

Finally, the cat captured, Jace slowly gets up from his knees, and looks at his cousin.

„Let’s go?“ Harry says it as a question.

Jace nods.

„They’ll probably be at the Bargain Castle.“

What with it being deserted.

Mercifully, the walk to the marketplace and the desolate castle is quick, and when they knock on the front door, Evie opens them.

She flutters her eyelashes at them, at which Jace is pretty unimpressed but Harry straightens his back, and before she can speak, Jace says: „We’re looking for Caros.“

Evie purses her lips, annoyed that he doesn’t want to play her little game, but steps aside to let them in. 

„He’s in the tower with Mal. You know, to the throne room, all the way to the left, and all the way up.“

They don’t know, actually.

„And keep that cat away from the potions ingredients,“ she says with a nod towards Lucifer, „And my wardrobe, will you.“ She doesn’t bother phrasing it like a question either.

So, yeah. Into the Bargain Castle it is. And if you ask Jace, this place is every last bit as creepy as the Hell Hall – maybe more so, in its unfamiliarness.

They do reach the tower easily, and knock on the door with an old sign of Mal’s name soon enough.

Carlos opens the door.

They stare at each other for few awkward moments, surprised to actually see one another after so long. Eventually, Jace decides to bite the bullet: „Your cousins want to see you,“ he blurts out. Few more awkward beats of silence, and: „Also, we have your cat.“

Finally, that does get a reaction out of Carlos, and the ice breaks. They leave for Hell Hall soon after, mission accomplished, leaving the cat and Mal hissing at each other.

Still safer for Lucifer than Hell Hall, Jace supposes.

[deblklesb]

[Phantoms of Past — Abby x Reader]

[AFAB!reader, friends to lovers, Christmas themed, br!reader, angsty, MDNI]

a/n: well, is this late for Christmas? yes. but do i care? also yes bc i'm paranoid and have some need to make stuff on time, so imagine my despair when i couldn't finish this. but i ALSO know that I'm doing my best, and for that i have to pat my own back. anyway, this is for my brazilian besties out there!!!

cw: reader is brazilian, usage of phrases in pt-br with the translation after and between parenthesis, owen mentioned (this man is a cw by himself idc this is not a owen appreciated blog), mutual pinning, Abby understands portuguese and even talks some. let me know if i forgot something.

not proof read | word count: 3,274

reblogs are highly appreciated!!

While you drive through the recently cleaned streets of the neighborhood you grew up, thanking the heavens that it stopped snowing for now, the radio plays a seasonal song and your murmur along. The traffic on the main roads were chaotic, almost as congested as your uncle's arteries, but now the decorated rooftops and doorsteps replaced the headlights on your peripheral vision. In front of a house stood a snowman, or at least his body stripped of arms and face.

You park in front of a house with simple adornments and flashers around the main door, a LED deer standing next to it and a small table with fake cookies and milk on top. All the energy was so reminiscent of the years you'd spend a whole day decorating the house with your mom, mainly inside, just so your father and sister could take care of the outside. Now that you both were grown and away, the couple occupied itself with the house interior and resumed the exterior with a simple approach. It never failed to take a smile from you, though, especially seeing the way they would adhere to simple things just because it looked cute, even if it had nothing to do with their native traditions.

Coming from Brasil, for the first part of your life you had hot weather and sunny days on Christmas. Maybe a night of rain, but never snow. Fireworks and catholic mass were on the list, but your parents went just to go along with the rest of the family and friends. They weren't religious, so in the end Christmas was simply another holiday, but with presents and - as all the other holidays - a family gathering. The main difference now was that you were studying in another city, becoming one of the absent relatives; you know, the ones that mainly go home for the holidays and vacations. It wasn't bad, but they definitely missed you a lot and the feeling was mutual.

Using your key to get in, the sounds of Simone’s “Então É Natal” (“And So It Is Christmas”), a brazilian holiday song, hit you immediately. You chuckle, taking off your boots and coats. From the front corridor the ornamented tree is visible, carrying innumerous lights and details. There's probably not a single empty wall, the seasonal decoration filling every inch of your field of vision.

“There she is!” Your father shouts as you appear in the living room smiling. The man goes into your direction with open arms, holding you tight. You smell that same cologne he wears since you can remember anything, and along with the warmth of the house, it truly feels like home. Some of the tension from university and work just falls on the carpet, leaving your body to receive all the good things inside that place.

“Carlos, you'll smash our child and I cannot have another one”, your mom yells somewhere from the kitchen direction, making you laugh.

“I can get another one anywhere, Marília”, he finally lets go, an arm around your shoulders. “Won't be as nice as this one, though”

“Of course not, she's irreplaceable”, your cousin Felipe says, approaching. “Prima, você tem feito falta!” (“Cousin, you have been missed!”) He holds you sideways with an insane amount of exaggeration, taking an embarrassed chuckle from you. Felipe was a lawyer with a lot of charisma, but inside he was just your cousin that your mom liked a lot. You both used to play together growing up. “From some people, a little too much”, he whispers playfully before running away, not letting you scold him for bringing up something you were not prepared to deal with this earlier, especially when the person implied wasn't even around. Yet.

Your father doesn't seem to notice, now talking with your mom again.

“Hey, Alice”, you wave to Felipe’s wife sitting on the couch, drinking something on a Christmas themed mug.

“Hey, sweetie! How's uni?”

“Tiring”, you shrug. “How about the kids?”

Your name is once again shouted through the house, and as you turn around three kids are running into you. Camila, Jorge e Rayana hold your waist, almost making you fall with a laugh. Camila is the oldest, at five years old, but the others are at the age of three. They're simply the most precious people in that family.

“Meus pestinhas!” (“My little brats!”) You start messing their hairs and pinching their ears playfully.

“Eu perdi um dente, olha!” (“I lost a tooth, look!”) Camila smiles widely, showing the first little window on her mouth.

“Ela tá ficando banguela e feia” (“She's getting toothless and ugly”) Jorge points out, and by Camila's reaction this isn't a new saying.

“Well, that's too bad. Because you'll get toothless and ugly too, just wait a few years”, Rayana and Camila laugh as the boy pouts at your response, looking at their mom.

“Vamo, vamo, abram espaço. Preciso abraçar minha filha” (Come on, come on, clear the way. I need to hug my daughter) Your mom’s voice finally reached the living room before her arms were wrapped around your torso. It's warm and familiar, you've missed her so much.

“Oi, mãe” (“Hey, mom”)

“Você tá tão magrinha, filha. Aposto que não anda comendo direito na correria, né?” (“You're so skinny, child. I bet you haven't been eating well in all the rush, right?”) The caressing she does on your back is reassuring, and by that you can tell you're going back with bowls filled with food. “Sua irmã vai chegar só mais tarde, seu pai vai buscar ela na estação” (“Your sister will arrive just later, your father will pick her up on the station”)

“When will uncle Jerry get here? He said he would get me new crayons”, Rayana mumbles while playing with one of the numerous ornaments on the lit up tree.

You try not to react to what that phrase implies, going with your mom to the kitchen to busy your hands and your mind with something else. She would probably kick you out of there soon anyway, she never liked having other people in the kitchen with her unless very necessary. But the need to act normal, smile and not think about family friends coming over it's bigger than the prospect of being scolded out of a room.

While the conversation continues in the living room and the song plays to never leave an empty place in your audition, you hover around the place talking with your mom about the neighborhood news and her routines in the morning walks group. It's comforting to know about what's going on, even if it doesn't really affect your life.

You help her cut the bread to make rabanadas (french toasts), looking forward to finally eating them. It's one of your favorite things of this season, even though you could actually find it anywhere at any time of the year. But the memories of having a plate of those on the supper table, covered in sugar and cinnamon, it's one of your favorites. So you're dividing your attention between the chore of slicing the bread and listening to your mom speaking, when a name being yelled in the living room catches your ear and you almost cut the tip of your thumb.

It's Jorge’s voice. “Abby!”

It's a blessing your mom didn't notice it, but now you have a bigger motive to stay inside the kitchen and never leave it.

No matter how much your mother talked, or the music filled the air, or the people in the other room got into different conversations within the group; her voice seemed louder than any other thing to you. You would swear she was next to the table you had the cutting board on, chatting with the children and playing with them.

You could swear you could listen to her whispering to you about lonely nights and missing pieces of a puzzle.

“Tia!” (“Auntie!”)

Your mom stops speaking just to turn around and look into the tall woman's direction. “Abigail!” Her comforting, mothering arms hold the strong torso, and the blonde needs to be in a not very straight posture to fully embrace your mom. What could you say, hightness wasn't in your family's genes.

“One of these days you'll be able to carry me around, with how big and strong you're getting!” And they both laugh as if Abby didn't live at the end of the block and they saw each other constantly.

All the while, you're trying to avoid the upcoming, inevitable moment. Your eyes glue on the bread, but you're not really looking at it. They're talking but you can't decipher the words, just assimilate the sweet voice making your cells tremble in vibrations. Cutting another piece, and another, then another, then-

“Puta que pariu-” (“Motherfucker-”), a drop of blood falls onto the cutting board when you pull your hand away, thumb red and hurting.

“What happened?” Your mom asks, concern in her voice.

“I cut my finger”, the running water of the sink makes the wound sting when you put the finger under it, the blood keeps coming out.

“I can take care of that if you need to”, Abby says, making you look directly at her for the first time of the night.

And you have to give the lack of air to the pain. You have to, because otherwise you would be admitting that looking at her takes your breath away.

“Yeah, Abby is working as a nurse in a school now. I bet she's used to this type of thing”, Marília goes to the cutting board, taking the pieces you've cut already.

There's nowhere to run over this. What will you say, that you don't want her to take care of your wound? That you can't be next to her, orelse all the coherent thoughts in your mind will fade away, leaving room for her voice? That your fingers ache to touch her?

You look to your still bleeding finger under the open faucet, then to the tall, blonde woman again. And while your mother wasn't looking, you both had a silent conversation about something, everything. She could see the doubt in your eyes, but you could see the pleads in hers.

“Sure, I think it wouldn't be much…” You try to smile, finally turning the faucet off and grabbing a towel to wrapp around your finger.

You both go upstairs, she tells you how there was a first aid kit in the bathroom and your stomach jumps at the realization that she knew your house more than yourself probably. Looking forward at all times and trying not to pay too much attention to her careful hand touching your arm like she was guiding you around the place.

“Go to your room, I’ll take the kit”, and you don’t even look at her to see how she was looking at you. You don’t know how that hurt her, mainly because you’re trying to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

The room is just like you always leave it after the breaks, bed neatly covered and books on the shelves. Some stuffed animals that you couldn’t bear to donate were aligned on a shelf next to a poster of a band you liked, the black and red contrasting with the creamy colors of a small giraffe. You saw the table where once you were pressed against, the lamp giving a soft light on the room as you felt a pair of lips so close to yours after all those years of yearning and silent pining.

“Okay, let’s give this a look” she was back using that voice, the one for the workplace. Tender, but firm; like she was trying to be secure, but reassuring.

Abby pulled the chair next to the table so she could sit in front of you, her knees together between your separated legs as she carefully took your hand and unwrapped the towel. Crimson drops started to flow down your finger, and the blonde woman never took the blue eyes away from the cut.

The distance wasn’t enough. Her scent would haunt the bedroom all night, making you dream about her just like it happened before, during your late school years, when she came to spend the day and left you numb and daydreaming. Her touches were so gentle, featherlight.

“It wasn't that bad, we can handle it”, she muttered like she was talking to one of the students from the school she worked at. “So, how's college?”

“It's okay, I guess”, with eyes glued on your own hand, you tried not to notice her thighs too much. “I've been working my ass off to write a paper while keeping up with classes and the monitoring thing”

“You'll get this, I'm sure”, you looked up just in time to see a smirk on her lips, but then returned to look down again before being trapped on that hypnotizing expression. “After all, you've always been very good with your words”

“It was easier in school, though”

“It always is”, she cuts the bandage before wrapping your finger with it. “But that's the thing, right? We start to realize how school was maybe easier, but then again, would you rather be back?”

“Oh, fuck no”, you chuckle as she finishes the curative. “I wouldn't change this for that”

“Yeah”, you finally look up more confident, meeting her indescribable expression. “I would change some things, actually”

“Like what?” You're just keeping the conversation, just trying to let it flow well enough for it to be bearable. You surely weren't expecting the next phrase.

“I wouldn't have dated Owen”, she sighs.

Owen was Abby's boyfriend. They started dating in the last year of school, and looked very much in love, for your displeasing. He wasn't a bad guy per se, but the fact that you already had a crush on Abby made you think that your feelings towards him were totally based on jealousy. So every single thing you had to say about him would be shoved down your throat immediately, and you'd just smile and nod to your friend anytime she mentioned him. You told her he was nice - couldn't bring yourself to say more than that - and supported their relationship with the most painful role in that whole story: the best friend with an unrequited crush.

By fall you found out she and Owen had broken up. Right after…

“Why is that?” Her eyes wander from the quilt to your hands, then back to your face. They were so beautiful, you could spend the rest of the night admiring them. Or the way her hair would fall around her face with soft lines, how her freckles were so attractive to the touch, especially on her arms.

“Don't think I was really into him… At least not in the right way”, Abby was the one not looking at you now, almost more interested in putting the stuff back on the kit box. “I could've been honest with him… And with you”

“Abby-”

“That's fine…” She shrugged. “He was a little bit of a dumbass anyway”

Silence falls around you both, filling the room with an emptiness.

The image of them both in your living room, last Christmas, haunts your mind as soon as you remember how you knew nothing and was too caught up in your own thoughts at the time. The way she laughed at his jokes, making your stomach turn as you smiled politely. Or how you saw them kissing next to the coat holder by the front door, and all the food you ate wanted to come back in awful bitterness.

You never told anyone. Never said a word, as always, rather keeping the green feeling on the back of your mind in order to not do something stupid - like being rude or start crying.

But then, you came home for the summer break. You dad was making barbecues in the backyard, you mom decorated the house with all the stuff your cousin brought from Brasil on his last trip, and you'd listen to pagode in the living room while the kids were playing and running, waiting for the meat to be properly roasted so they could finally eat.

Internally, you were ready to deal with that same gut-rotting feeling all over again. The plan was to sustain the fake expression until the time allowed you to pull the tiredness card on everyone and go to your room to watch some old telenovela.

Abby showed up alone, greeting everyone as usual. And when she looked at you, you could swear that was something in her eyes that could make you shiver. How she took your figure in before hugging you, how she held you so tight and for a little bit longer. How she was always trying to be next to you. You couldn't decipher, though, and the whole day went by mixing the confusion of her being without Owen and not even mentioning his name, and the rush of being that close to her again.

That night, in your room, she kissed you. Right there, where you were sitting now, she held your face between your hands and your skin shivered, while her lips touched yours.

You waited for years. Kissing her was probably one of the only things you wanted to do every time she was around, flesh craving hers. And it finally happened… But she had a boyfriend.

So you never talked about it again. You went back to college and texted her less and less.

“Abby, Abby, Abby!” A childish voice came from the corridor, the door opened to show Rayana. “Come here, I need your help to defeat Jorge and papai” (dad)

“Okay, I'll be there in a second!” The blonde smiled before the girl ran back downstairs. “Well, it seems like a have a duty”

“Can't let her down, she'll never forgive you”, you both chuckled while she got out of the room, first to leave the kit back in the bathroom and then to go to the living room again.

Sighing, you laid back on the mattress. Just like that summer night, you were alone in your room trying to collect your feelings about an interaction with Abby. Heart beating fast and a familiar warmth on your chest, wanting to curse every single entity for putting you in this position.

You came down maybe 15 minutes later, mask back on to decorate your face with a smile. You saw the tall woman on the mat with the younger children on top of her, attacking her while laughs filled the place.

“Okay, okay, saiam de cima da Abigail” (“Get off of Abigail”) Your mom didn't have to say it twice before they were sitting next to her. “Abigail, I need a favor. Remember that bowl I lent to you last week?”

“Sure”, her arms seemed stronger now that she was supporting herself on the elbows. Why was she so gorgeous?

“I need you to get it for me, darling”

“Okay, I got it”, Abby got up and immediately went grabbing her coat again.

And you were about to go back to the kitchen to make yourself useful, but it couldn't be that easy.

“Filha, vai com ela. Está nevando bastante, não é bom dirigir sozinha nesse tempo” (“Daughter, go with her. It's snowing a lot, it isn't good to drive alone in the weather”)

“Oh, it's not necessary-” She really tried, but your mom wouldn't take a negative answer.

“I'm not asking, you won't go alone!”

You nod and start putting on heavy clothes. It was okay, all good. You both would get in the house, grab the bowl, and get back in no time. It would be fine.

[dividers by @cafekitsune]

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 16: “Big Time Fever”

Highlights: Orange!James, Bongo!Logan, and Jennifer!Carlos

Also, some ramblings about each of the boys' various emotional dysfunctions.

I feel like this is one of those episodes that typically makes the list of people's favorites. Let's see if it's still as funny as I remember it being.

We begin at the Palm Woods pool. The guys are eager to beat the heat but discover the pool empty, save for Bitters, who is floating around happily. Why? He's put up a sign which reads, "Adult Swim No kids allowed"

Well, guess what. Our clever Kendall takes advantage of the lack of punctuation and creates his own loophole. He swiftly changes it to, "Adult swim? No, kids allowed!"

This is a scene I've always remembered, and it's one of my favorite Kendall moments in general. He's such a menace (affectionate). No rules can confine him.

As a quick little side note: can I just point out how dinky the pool actually is? For a place like the Palm Woods, home of the "future famous", it sure has a teeny tiny pool. It's like...the size of a regular backyard in ground pool, not something that would be at an upscale apartment complex. Just something that's always irrationally bugged me.

Camille comes over and says how great it is that Hollywood hasn't changed the guys, since the environment usually takes its toll on people after a few months. But Kendall, Carlos, and Logan are still the same lovable goofballs they've always been.

Oh, and then James shows up, and he's orange.

He's come down with a raging case of Hollywood Fever. Camille shares that Guitar Dude and The Jennifers met the same fate, becoming permanently altered by the "illness." Kendall decides it's nonsense and attempts to shut this whole business down right away.

"James, you're orange, and you look like a freak," he says. I love Kendall so much.

Unfortunately, the heartfelt, sensitive words have no effect on James, who thinks he looks great.

There's also a B plot going on involving Katie taking advantage of the heat wave by selling snow cones, but idk how much of that I'll cover. I don't remember if it's all that interesting. Guess we'll see as I keep watching.

Later on, at the studio, Kelly and Gustavo are reacting as expected to Orange!James.

Gustavo pulls them aside for a chat, telling them that the image he's going for with the band is NOT, "Three normal boys and a tangerine freak."

Tangerine Freak would be a good band name.

Gustavo orders Kendall, Carlos, and Logan to fix James before he replaces him.

After learning the tanning spray dissolves with water, the guys arm themselves with water guns and set out to hunt their orange friend down. Carlos goes to the pool, where he runs into The Jennifers, who are missing one member (she's gone to Iceland). Bereft without their friend, the remaining Jennifers note that Carlos is the right height to fill her role. So, yeah. Carlos is a Jennifer now.

Back in the lobby, Kendall and James engage in a Matrix-style battle in which James successfully dodges the water gun, and Kendall soaks everyone in the lobby.

Over at the park, Logan's own efforts to find and fix James are quickly thwarted when he has a brief conversation with Guitar Dude and is promptly sucked in by the alluring power of bongos.

Also, it's hilarious to me how easily Logan does a 180 personality-wise. He shows up with his water gun all serious, prepared to help turn James back to his normal, non-orange self, but Guitar Dude is all, "Hey, man, what's the point? Let James be orange if that's what he wants. How about you chill out and find Logan."

And that's all Logan needs.

Anyway, we return to the pool, where Carlos is having second thoughts about becoming a Jennifer. He claims he's too nice, to which the girls work to convince him being nice gets him walked all over. They tell him the only people who make it in Hollywood are the ruthless ones. This convinces Carlos that he should stick with them and become a "tiger shark."

After another disastrous recording session, Gustavo sees how serious the problem has become. He, Kelly, and Kendall decide to divide and conquer, but not before Gustavo yells at Kendall for not taking charge and being able to fix things.

Which like. Ok. Kendall's the most level-headed one, the leader, etc. And this is me reading too much into a kids show again, but this poor guy! It's not enough that Kendall personally puts the pressure on himself to be the Fixer of Everyone's Problems Always—he regularly has that pressure put on him from the people around him too.

When is it Kendall's turn to be taken care of? When does HE get to rest and not have to manage the lives and decisions of his family and friends?? Huh??? WHEN?

One by one, each of their plans fail. Kendall's attempt to lure Logan back to Normal-ville using math has no impact whatsoever, the therapist hired for James ends up a similar shade of orange, and Carlos resists Kelly's shopping cart slingshot with the help of the Jennifers. But! It should be noted that of the three boys, Carlos is the ONLY one who wavers. He really wants to join in on the fun, and if not for the Jennifers, he likely would have.

So, we've got James, who is masking his own feelings of insecurity and inadequacy by covering himself with orange tanning spray. Logan, who desperately needed permission to shed his anxious, uptight, genius status but swung way too far into hippie mode. And Carlos, who (deep down) feels ignored and "less than," and quickly fell into the world the Jennifers offered him: one of status and importance and leadership. Then there's Kendall, who has NOT fallen victim to Hollywood Fever because he's carefully constructed a very secure wall around himself that won't allow him to be anything but the strong, responsible "man in charge" that he's had to be since he was a child and his dad walked out.

Or, as Gustavo says, Kendall "has a normal brain, and his friends have the brain of a cricket."

Listen, Kendall is a lot of things, but normal isn't one of them.

Kendall firmly rejects Gustavo's offer to go solo and announces he's going to the ice rink to think things through. This is a lightbulb moment for Kelly, who realizes that Kendall's connection to his roots has been the factor that saved him. They decide to save Carlos, Logan, and James through the Power of a Snowball Fight.

Turns out, all three cricket-brains just needed to be pelted by some ice in order to shed their newfound personas.

And with that, all is set right with the world again.

This is one of the best episodes of the first season, though it does lend itself to additional questions. Was this a one-and-done battle with Hollywood Fever, or did the group have to face it any time homesickness reared its head? What about Guitar Dude and The Jennifers? Did anyone try to cure them? Did any of the boys find themselves mourning that brief period in time when they weren't "themselves"? Carlos and Logan especially! Because those feelings must have still been there. Carlos still has those feelings of being pushed to the side and forgotten about. Not being considered important. And Logan still needs an outlet for all the stress he deals with on a regular basis—the pressure of being the Smart One.

And James. Well, I don't quite know about James. There is a LOT going on there. Super confident facade, the whole pretty-boy thing going for him. Determined and passionate and full of himself. But he's not. He's scared, deep down. He doesn't know who he is if he's not the most talented or the coolest or the most handsome. Part of him wants to hide away under several layers of Cuda Mangerine Action Tan Spray. There's also, like...other stuff I wonder about with James, like his tumultuous upbringing—super controlling, always put-together, superficial mother and a father who (I think) ended up with a much younger woman? I might be making that up. But I do know that his parents had such a bitter divorce that they didn't even speak. James is also an only child! That is...a lot to deal with growing up, and I'm sure there was damage done.

Not to mention any additional hardships James had to deal with growing up as someone whose personality and interests often skewed from what one might consider "traditionally male." I'm sure he was protected as much as possible by his buds, but there might have been times bullies still made their way through—finding an easy target in the boy who was so into fashion and modeling and had dreams of being a pop star.

Anyway! I hope Mama Knight (who was completely absent from this ep) heard of the day's events and sat with each of the boys to have a heart-to-heart. They certainly all needed it.

[hippolotamus]

Tagged by my love @disasterbuckdiaz (with a super hot snippet) @daffi-990 (with a whole lotta feels) @tizniz (with a super cute new fic 🦖) @buddierights (with a sweet fic of V-day past) thank you lovelies 💖

Today I bring you two snippets because Fuck It, amirite??? The first is because I was rewatching Fellow Travelers last night and a moment in Episode 2 hit me like a freight train.

But then the skit starts.

Caroline and Carlos, dressed in a suit and skirt respectively, playing as a couple having dinner at home. Caroline sits at a small table while Carlos stirs an empty pot of imaginary soup.

Even though it’s all pretend, the whole scene is so terribly, achingly domestic. A reminder of an unattainable dream. Within seconds Tim feels as though he is submerged, drowning in heartache. It fills his lungs, taking up precious space where air should be. Every silently jagged breath burns as he tries to take in oxygen, but only receives more pain. He doesn’t know how he’s not making a spectacle of himself, attracting attention to the way his heart cracks, just short of breaking completely.

It is a relief when Carlos approaches him, holding out the wooden soup spoon. The gesture is silly but provides a much needed reprieve. Tim finds it in himself to be able to laugh again as he’s fed the invisible offering. A bright feeling that bursts forth, genuinely happy as it displaces his gloominess.

When Carlos and Caroline have bickered and teased their way to the ending, they bow and curtsy as the group claps and cheers. Some even call for an encore. Instead Caroline insists Mary put a record on so everyone can dance.

A lesser version of Tim’s earlier distress settles over him like a thick fog. It blankets him in loneliness while he watches Mary and her lover sway to the music, holding each other close with their cheeks pressed together.

Snippet #2 is noticeably more zesty (any guesses from the banner???) but with no fewer feels. Find a bit of honey, when you call my name under the cut 😏 Hoping this one will be posted very soon.

“You okay?” Buck’s face is etched with such concern and care it makes Eddie’s chest tight. A squeezing around his heart that makes him wish he could pull it from behind his ribcage. To clutch it in his palms while he shows off all the places Buck’s mended and healed for him. A way to prove that Eddie is more than okay, and only improving as they continue to intertwine their lives together.

“Yeah, baby. I’m good.” Eddie lifts his head, angling his neck so he can kiss Buck again. He pours all of his gratitude and overwhelm into it, hoping the message is clear. That their unique brand of silent communication applies here as well.

It must because Buck continues to slide in, albeit slowly. He goes inch by inch, periodically checking in with a questioning look that Eddie returns with a small nod until Buck’s fully seated. And it feels… unusual. Not in a bad way, but an altogether different sensation than the times he’s fucked himself with his fingers or a toy. Of course it would be, because it’s Buck. It’s novel and precious and life changing. An event that Eddie would scribble in his diary if he had one. But at the same time — it’s Buck. So it’s also an inevitable homecoming, like being able to finally set down his burdens and breathe a sigh of relief.

“So good, Buck,” Eddie tells him before the question can be asked, because he knows it will be. He can see it in the infinite blue staring back at him, sparkling with affection and love.

Buck dips his head down, brushing their noses together, and Eddie doesn’t miss how bright, sunny blue turns darker, like dusky twilight.

“Gonna move as soon as you say so,” Buck murmurs against his lips. “‘ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

Eddie’s belly swoops and his muscles clench in anticipation. Because it’s a two way street and this has been years in the making for both of them.

“Oh, yeah?” Before Buck can answer he tacks on, “Do it then. You’re not the only one waiting here, y’know.”

He’s rewarded with a mischievous smirk just before he feels Buck pull back. A moan — closer to a growl — rips out of him when Buck thrusts forward again, making him feel so, so full and whole. Complete.

no pressure tagging @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @diazsdimples (I know you have something to share by now!) @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @monsterrae1 @buckaroosheart @indestructibleheart @thewolvesof1998 @loserdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @elvensorceress @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem @apothecarose @barbiediaz @chaosandwolves @eowon @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @statueinthestone @singlethread @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @watchyourbuck @your-catfish-friend @vanillahigh00 and anyone else who wants to share

[ruthplaysthesims]

Carlos woke up in his childhood home once more. Everything seemed normal from the last dream: The house was empty, it was around the same time of day. The only difference? He couldn't hear someone calling out to him. Instead, he heard sobbing. He could hear someone sobbing from the hallway and as he looked out the window, he saw a young boy with his head on the table crying bitterly. Carlos quickly ran down the stairs and out to the front yard.

Carlos: Hey. Are you okay?

The boy lifted his head and Carlos's expression stiffened. He wasn't looking at anyone.. He was looking at his sixteen year old self. His face was covered in bruises and his lip was busted. The boy looked at Carlos before looking away, not wanting to say anything.

Teen Carlos: Who are you?

Carlos looks at him.

Carlos: I'm you.

Teen Carlos looked at him, looking like he didn't believe him.

Teen Carlos: What? Like some guardian angel? Because let me tell you right now, you're doing a terrible fucking job.

Carlos: Did... he do this to you?

Teen: You mean my face? Nah, this was merely what he added after he found out about the fight I got into.

Carlos thought back to high school. He remembered fighting someone that was harassing him regarding Greta. It was an ex of hers, who was also a bully.

Carlos: Lucio.

Teen Carlos: You'd think after defending her, she'd say "Thank you Carlos for defending me" but what do I get, huh?! She tells me I shouldn't have defended her from a jerk she dated?!?!

Carlos: Carlos..

Teenage Carlos: And what happens when I get home? Carla comes to me saying she's hungry. What happened to all the food?? Oh yeah, that FUCKING PIG ATE EVERYTHING WE HAD WITH HIS FRIENDS WHILE THEY WERE GAMBLING WITH THE REMAINING FUNDS WE HAD LEFT!!! WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I FUCKING CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT, HUH?! WHAT HAPPENS? I GET PUNCHES TO THE FACE AND INSULTS HURLED AT ME, ALL OF THEM BEING HOW I'M RESPONSIBLE FOR MAMA'S DEATH!! I DON'T EVEN GET TO CRY! WHY, you ask?! BECAUSE CARLA IS CRYING AND WORRIED SICK ABOUT MY WELL BEING! A SIX YEAR OLD WHO'S SUPPOSED TO BE ENJOYING HER CHILDHOOD, WATCHING HER FRIENDS ENJOY THE NICEST THINGS WHILE HER FATHER IS BEING A PIECE OF SHIT AND HER BROTHER IS TRYING HIS BEST TO GIVE HER A CHANCE AT A NORMAL LIFE. I DON'T KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE BUT YOU ARE BUT I KNOW THAT YOU'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT LIFE IS LIKE IN MY SHOES!! So if you're my guardian angel... WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT MY SISTER?!

Carlos could feel his eyes welling up.

Carlos: You locked yourself in the bathroom that night...

Teen Carlos: What?

Carlos: I remember... I went into the bathroom.. and wanted to end it.. I heard Carla whimpering behind the door... I couldn't bring myself to...

He looked at his teenage self, reaching his hand out to hold his.

Carlos : You don't need to have your guard up around me, chico.. I really am you. And I really can assure things will be okay.

Carlos stood up, holding his younger self's hand, and pulled him in, causing him to sob hysterically.

Teen Carlos: Estoy tan cansado (I'm so tired..)

Carlos: Lo sé, muchacho… lo sé…

poses by @rebouks and @utopya-cc

[carlos-in-glasses]

Happy Wednesday and yuletide felicitations to one and all.

Sharing a section from Where All This Love Comes From, Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend (posting on Sunday!)

In which teenage Carlos has been unceremoniously dragged by his parents to visit a newborn baby, and he isn't happy about it. Luckily, there's also a dog. And a boy.

He’s escaped to the kitchen, because here he can hang out with their elderly golden retriever – a glamorous white-coated lady called Zelda – and he’s massaging her head with salad tongs when he notices the time change on his digital watch. For some reason it makes him fiercely angry, and it’s the exact moment Gabriel wanders in to find him like this: Crouched on the terracotta floor tiles, looking furious, while an ancient pup appears to be in a state of total ecstasy because her ear is being rubbed by a large wooden fork.

“There you are,” Gabriel says, carrying his empty coffee mug to the sink. “Everyone was wondering where you got to. Give me that.” He scoffs and snatches the salad tongs from Carlos, dumping them in the sink with his mug.

Zelda whimpers at the loss, so Carlos strokes her snout with his thumb.

“When are we going home?” Carlos asks it like a challenge, stares at the time of his life ticking away.

12:01, his watch says.

He’s expecting his father to huff, to stretch out a pointing arm and demand he get his moody ass back into the living room and coo over the boring baby, but that doesn’t happen. When it doesn’t happen, Carlos finds the courage to glance up. Gabriel is drying his hands on a red gingham seersucker cloth, regarding him with a half-smile.

“Not really your scene, huh?” Gabriel says.

Carlos shrugs with one shoulder.

“I get it. But the girls want to stay.”

“I know.”

“How about you and me go for lunch?”

Carlos gazes at his dad distrustfully, rising to his feet. “Just us?”

“Yeah. I want to take my boy for some food.”

“I’m really, really hungry,” Carlos tells him, quiet and ashamed, like it’s a terrible secret, even though him eating everybody out of house and home is probably the most well-established fact about Carlos Reyes.

Gabriel laughs, slapping the cloth down. “I’ll take you to Mockingbird,” he says, “It’s been a long time.”

Mockingbird Diner. Sometimes, when Gabriel’s shifts had allowed it, he’d meet Carlos at the school gates and take him for a milkshake. When did that stop? It feels like forever ago, but when Carlos thinks about it, he can smell salted fries. He can feel himself holding an ice-cold glass. He’d always get vanilla. If Gabriel had a milkshake too, he’d always get chocolate.

_______________________________

It’s a hectic weekend lunchtime at Mockingbird, but a booth by the window becomes free as they enter. A friendly college-age boy buses them over. The table is still messy with evidence of its former occupants. Carlos watches with interest as half-empty lemonade glasses and plates scattered with crumbs are lifted out of sight. He likes the boy’s hands – the way they open and close and flex as he works to clean up. The way his tanned forearms, with a clear seam of defined muscle, protrude through rolled white shirt sleeves. He probably plays sport at UT. Carlos imagines him as a baseballer.

“I’ll grab you some menus, sirs,” the boy says cheerfully after spritzing and wiping down their table.

Carlos accidentally follows the boy with his eyes as he walks away. When his gaze finally travels to Gabriel – Gabriel is staring back curiously. He doesn’t know how long his dad has been observing him for.

Open tag and tags below!

Tagging: @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @strandnreyes @welcometololaland @lemonlyman-dotcom @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @chaotictarlos @goodways @alrightbuckaroo @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @eclectic-sassycoweyes @orchidscript @taralaurel @noxsoulmate @liminalmemories21 @ladytessa74 @jesuisici33 @inflarescent @thisbuildinghasfeelings @fitzherbertssmolder @whatsintheboxmh @wandering-night19 @never-blooms @theghostofashton @carlos-tk @redshirt2 @herefortarlos @louis-ii-reyes-strand @chicgeekgirl89 @three-drink-amy @mikibwrites @freneticfloetry @sugdenlovesdingle - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[welcometololaland]

wip wednesday

y'all - i feel like i've been so fucking annoying lately but i'm here to request one thing of you - give me some juicy snippets to read because i'm finally on top of my shit. and i've always wanted to start wip wednesday (for all i know someone has already started it but don't rain on my parade! let me live in denial) and now i maybe can. This is from ALTA which is (omg) so close to being posted. 10 days. fuck. i'm not ready (i am).

“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” TK asks, his voice breaking as his head remains burrowed into Carlos’ shoulder. He’s stopped shaking now, which Carlos takes to be a good sign, but he’s cried so persistently that the whole front of Carlos’ jacket is wet. 

He pauses, leans back and cups TK’s face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away a few errant tears. He briefly considers making a passionate speech about TK’s mother being dead but not gone – living on in his heart – but then he decides for pragmatism. He thinks TK will appreciate that more, anyway.

“Yes,” he says simply. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept.”

TK sniffs, his glazed eyes staring helplessly into Carlos’ own. “What do I do now, Carlos?”

Carlos sighs, brushing away another of TK's tears. “I’m not really sure, TK,” he admits. “But right now, I can take you home. It might be nice to cry somewhere that isn’t your high school computer lab.”

A tiny, hesitant smile appears at the corners of TK’s mouth. “I think my dad will be relieved,” he says. “He keeps asking why I haven’t cried yet, like it's some kind of crime.”

“Well, he’s definitely going to be pleased to see you,” Carlos points out, as TK nods tearfully. 

“Could you— Do you mind coming with me?” TK asks as Carlos steps back and drops his hands. “I don’t really want to be alone and my dad is driving me nuts. My other friends…they wouldn’t understand.”

“I hope they do understand, TK,” Carlos replies solemnly, collecting his books and following TK out of the darkened classroom. “I think everyone will do their best to support you.”

TK makes a non-committal sound as they walk down the empty hall – devoid of students – amplifying the sound of their sneakers on the linoleum. “Not like you,” he says, after a pause. “I know we’ve only been friends for a little bit, but you’re different.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos asks, pushing open the front doors and following TK down the steps. “In what way?”

TK pauses, looking back up at Carlos as he descends the stairs, a pensive look on his face. “You’re good, Carlos,” he replies simply. “You’re good for me.”

Open tag for anyone to share but also some targeted attacks under the cut (with insane requests, feel free to ignore me)!!!

@theghostofashton (need some exes to lovers PLEASE), @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut (boxing AU boxing AU!), @goodways (got a tasty treat shannon?) @reyesstrand (food fic???) @strandnreyes (please don't hurt me but you can if you want) @rmd-writes (just because i love you) @heartstringsduet (FIRST AID?!) @carlos-in-glasses (what's next up CIG?) @birdclowns (your wip snippet game has me blurry eyed, i must know more) @fitzherbertssmolder (any comic progress?) @louis-ii-reyes-strand (been loving your snippets) @lilythesilly (fighter pilot AU?!) @kiloskywalker (tarlos fighter pilot AU????) @sanjuwrites (soulmates????) @three-drink-amy (teacher AU teacher AU teacher AU!!) @chicgeekgirl89 (any yachts about?) @lemonlyman-dotcom (some music fic for my ears???) @wandering-night19 (4 x 18 coda???) @thisbuildinghasfeelings (cross stitching update??!!!) @freneticfloetry (something from the soulmates timer fic???) @alrightbuckaroo (summer parisian au my beloved!!!!) @cha-melodius (you've got mail AU????) @redshirt2 (anything you would like to contribute, i'd just love you to keep feeding me!) @iboatedhere (how are those prompts???) @orchidscript (lovingly bullying you to keep writing) @marjansmarwani (i know the words are hard but also i am lovingly bullying you as well <3) @morganaspendragonss (has angst queen got anything this week?) @lightningboltreader (THAT ANGSTY ONE BED THING I AM SCARED BUT I WANT)