#pole jumper

[newportangels]

admitting to my crimes here; when I did the dressage test for the first time I got a perfect score. I haven't gotten anything below an 85..

[vivwritesfics]

Best Dad Ever

Lando is the best girl dad. When his little girl wants to ride horses, he makes it happen

For @nurse-buckley for studying

Lando didn't have many regrets in life. He didn't regret karting from a young age, he didn't regret joining McLaren. He didn't regret getting married young or having a child either.

Actually, those last two were the best decisions of his life.

What he did regret was letting his four year old meet his sisters horses.

Lola fell in love. Lando hoped that she'd find Flo's huge horses terrifying and scary. But she loved them. She really really loved them. She giggled as the horse took the treat from her hand. Auntie flow had shown her exactly how to do it

She didn't get to ride Flo's horses. They were top show jumpers, Flo didn't want to put her niece at risk like that. Something Lando was incredibly grateful for.

But soon, Lando was strapping her into her car seat and driving her home. "Papa," she began as she looked out of the window, at the horses in the passing fields. "Can I start riding ponies?"

Lando should have seen it coming. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Lola had found love for those great big beasts in the same way his sister had. "Let me speak to your mother, yeah Lols?"

"Okay daddy."

Her mother didn't need a lot of convincing. "Hell yes she can go riding!" Y/N insisted. "I always wanted to as a girl but I never could," she said as she cuddled up to her husband.

"But, what if she realises she want to do karting like her father?" He pouted.

She held his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. "I promise, Lan. The next one we have you can introduce to karting."

Lando really liked the sound of that.

***

For Lolas first riding lesson, Lando was there, watching. He arranged it for a date he wasn't at a race and held his wife's hand as he watched. He was so incredibly nervous. Even if all Lola had to do was sit there, he was still terrified.

Soon she was riding every week. Lando desperately wanted to be at every lesson, but, before he knew it, he was at a race.

He wasn't there for the first time she trotted. "Please video it, baby," he said to his wife as they spoke on the phone.

She did just that, recording as she sat tall, the little pony beneath her trotting. Lando watched the video again and again, showing it to anybody that would watch.

He was there for her first lesson off the lead rope. He couldn't stop the smile on his face as she steered the small grey pony over the set of poles.

Lola kept up her riding lessons for a year. Lando attended as many as he could.

When that year of riding lessons was up,y Lando was on a mission to do something big.

It arrived at his location in the mid morning. As soon as it did, Lando put his phone to his ear. "Baby, bring Lola to the yard," he said.

Without questioning him, she got Lola into her riding boots, strapped her into the car and set off for the stables.

"Where's daddy?" Lola asked as they drove.

"He's gonna meet us there, sweety," Y/N said as she drove.

Lola frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know, Lol's."

As soon as Lola was out of the car, she was running towards her father. "What's going on, Daddy?" She asked.

Taking her hand, Lando walked Lola towards the barn. "I got you something, Lol's, " she said.

Lola gasped when Lando pointed to a stable. In that stable was a black pony, wearing a pink headcollar. "Lola, baby, I'd like you to meet Raven," said Lando. "He's your new pony."

Lola let out a little, quiet scream. "Really, daddy?! He's all mine?"

"He is, baby."

Lola through her arms around her father, squeezing him as tight as she could.

[maarigolds]

[gemsofgreece]

Bronze pole vaulter Emmanuel Karalis and golden long jumper Miltiades Tentoglou are long time friends. This gorgeous photo encompasses the euphoric state after a shared big success, the accumulated chronic physical struggle it takes to reach those athletic levels and above all their healthy and heartwarming friendship.

[jflemings]

— yard sale

pairing: alessia russo x reader

synopsis: you pack up your life and move far away from the supposed love of you life

warnings: just lots of angst

୧ ‧₊˚ 📦 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I put a sign on a telephone pole with the address below I wrote the time and I circled in bold, everything must go

you knew that it was time for you to leave. you and alessia's relationship had crumbled from beneath your feet quickly and mercilessly. one day you two were happy and planning a future and the next you were throwing her out and telling her that you never wanted to see her again.

so here you were, sitting out front of your place with a dingy clothes rack and boxes of all your meaningless things ready to sell so that you could pack up your life in london and get the fuck out.

a pair of young teenage girls hand you some clothes, a pair of shoes and a necklace along with the money to pay. you smile gratefully and put the items in a plastic bag before waving them goodbye, not noticing the figure standing a little bit away from where you were sitting. the head of blonde hair isn't the thing that catches your eye, it's the pair of arsenal trackies she's wearing. your eyes travel from the number six on her pants all the way up to her face where her eyes are boring into you.

you curtly nod and attempt to distract yourself with putting some other shirts on hangers when she slowly makes her way over. leah tucks her hands in the pocket of her jumper and digs her toe in the ground, her head hung low like she’s thinking.

sneaking a glance at her you clear your throat “leah”

“hey” she says surprised like she wasn’t expecting you to see her standing right in front of you “bit of spring cleaning?”

you half smirk and grab more hangers from the box next to you “moving. i don’t want to take everything”

the lioness captain stands up straight “you’re moving? where to?”

“chicago”

“oh wow. so far away”

you roll your eyes “you here to buy something or just to look around?” your patience is quickly wearing thin every moment she tries to make small talk. it wasn’t really like leah, the few times you’d hung out with her in a group setting she always had a purpose for a conversation. it wasn’t that she necessarily hated small talk, she just wasn’t good at it. at all.

“honestly i came to see how you were doing” she scratches the back of her neck “i saw the sign and, y’know”

nodding your head, you smile at another girl handing you money for a black dress that alessia had convinced you to buy when you were her date for an event. it was classy and sleek, and you remembered the feeling of alessia’s hands all over you through the night. you watch the girl go wistfully before directing your attention back to the footballer.

“thanks, really, but it wasn’t needed. i’m fine”

you know that leah sees right through you but she doesn’t argue, instead excusing herself and giving a tight lipped smile to people she passes as she walks back to her car. you watch her trot across the street to her car. she practically throws the door open and slides in hastily, like she had suddenly remembered that she needed to be somewhere.

before she drove off you heard her phone ring through the bluetooth in her car. if it wasn’t so loud you wouldn’t have heard the very familiar ‘hello’ from the other end of the line.

Every perfect memory Stacked in boxes on the street Take what's left of you and me

when leah told alessia that you were packing up your whole life and moving, she almost couldn’t believe it. for three straight nights after that conversation she had laid in bed tossing and turning and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t real, that you weren’t moving thousands of kilometres away from her.

one morning before an early training session she drove past your flat. she remembers how cold it was, and how even her fleece jumper couldn’t stop her from shivering as she turned down your street.

the movers outside your place made her stomach turn. she thought she was going to throw up when she saw you putting boxes into the back of the van with a smile on your face. you were happily chatting to one of the movers and she could tell just by the way you were smiling that you were excited.

the possibility that you were going to be happy without her in your life makes her speed down the rest of your street. she calls in sick to training that day and doesn’t answer leah or kyra’s texts.

leah doesn’t have to ask her what’s wrong when she turns up at her front door later that day. the tears on alessia’s sweatshirt tell leah everything she needs to know.

I tried to call but you didn't call back to come and get you things I thought about just striking a match but it's hard to burn a memory

you had called and texted her so that she could come and get the things she didn't take with her when you threw her out. despite your best efforts to be the bigger person, the striker didn't once get back to you, instead leaving you on delivered and sending you straight to voicemail.

you gave up quickly after that, choosing to pack up your life around the small pile of things that sat in the corner of your quickly emptying bedroom. you packed her belongings into a cardboard box and labelled it ALESSIA, the black marker you used to do so feathering and squeaking.

you packed it into storage with the rest of your belongings and left it with everything you weren’t able to take with you to chicago. you had thought about burning her things, just simply throwing them into the bonfire pit in your small backyard, but you knew that it didn’t matter what you did with her things. the memories would linger.

Every empty picture frame All the shit that I tried to save Name your price, you can have my pain

one way you decided to cope was by taking every photo that you had framed of the two of you and throwing it out.

you balled them up and threw them in the trash without a second thought, not once sparing a glance and alessia’s smiling face as you tossed her away. you ended up donating all the empty frames to your local thrift, and whatever couldn’t be donated ended up thrown out.

every photo was a memory of what once was. each holiday, anniversary and special moment had been captured and put behind glass for what you thought would be forever. alessia had grown fond of decorating the walls of both of your places with photos of the two of you. her entry hall had been a shrine to your relationship and people would often comment how lucky the both of you were to have found eachother.

everlasting love was something that you had once believed in, something that you once treated as gospel. it was hard to deal with the fact that you had suddenly lost belief in it. in her.

It's time to empty out the place (hey!) I used to love but now I hate

you had gotten so incredibly lucky with your flat. rent was a decent price, it was close to work, within walking distance from a quaint little bookshop and it only took lessi six minutes to get from her place to yours.

it was a dream for you, one that you quickly embraced. you made your place your own with small touches of yourself around the place. from the decor, to the furniture, even to the way things were laid out. your place was definitely yours.

slowly but surely you emptied the home you once loved. took down the pictures, sold the furniture and tossed anything that made you think of your ex. you hollowed out your home and carved a hole into your heart, mercilessly hacking away pieces of yourself that no longer fit who you were.

now as you stand with your hand on the doorknob to your front door, the ghost of memories prance through the empty halls and past you like you’re watching your own memories back on a tv.

it hurt to leave but it hurt more to know that there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent you and alessia ending the way you did.

All the love is, all the love is gone

[multifandomgirl08]

Tu me promets (Daniel's POV) - D.R. #3

Sugar Daddy!Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Summary: He was sorry, for not calling, for sleeping with you, and then running as if you meant nothing to him.

Warning(s): Implied sexual content

A/N: As per pole results this will get published first. The Reader's POV will be up next week. The title translates to you promise me. Points to anyone who can spot the Gossip Girl reference from season 6.

Words: 3.3k

Previous Part ← Reader POV The Arrangement Masterlist

Daniel knew he was being a coward, not texting you back after you had gotten home, not calling you for two months. It was a lot for him to process all while being back in Formula 1 driving for AlphaTauri. It wasn’t Red Bull but Christian and Helmut through it would be a good stepping stone for him after last year.

Yet here he was showing up at your apartment building to try to talk to you. He was pretty sure that you would slam the door in his face before he was even able to get a word out. He waved at the security guard before going up the elevator to your floor.

He knocked once he was at your door. He didn’t have to, he did have a key to your apartment but he wouldn’t do that. He may have bought the apartment but it was your space and he wasn’t just going to let himself in after not talking to you.

It took a few moments for the door to open. There was something punishing in that silence of waiting. It wasn’t long before you stood in front of him in his pink Enchanté jumper, black shorts, and thigh-high socks. The bouquet of white Japanese Camellia flowers that were in his hands suddenly felt heavy, like it was weighing down his arm.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

You eventually let him through the door not saying anything. Daniel couldn’t help but take in the apartment after not having been here for a while. It was very well lived in, you had candles, books, and photos set up all around. This had become home for you. He saw a throw from Hermés over the back of the armchair he helped you pick out. He knew he was the only one to sit on it.

There was a container of takeaway on the glass and silver coffee table, and you were watching Gossip Girl on the TV.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. He was sorry, for not calling, for sleeping with you, and then running as if you meant nothing to him. It was wrong and you deserved better, not just from him but in general.

He tried to hand you the flowers but you wouldn’t take them from him. His eyes fell on an empty vase by one of the windows that looked like a handbag. He walked over in small steps and placed the flowers in there, just happy for them to be out of his hands.

He walked closer to you but kept the distance between you, leaning against the back of the cream couch, his legs folded on top of one another.

“Look,” He started to say. He could feel your eyes on him, running up and down what he was wearing probably tuning out his words just to not seem rude or something. “I know I shouldn’t have left the morning after. I just…”

Come on mate, out with it. She won’t hear you out all damn day. He thought to himself.

“It was a lot for me, to know how I felt and then do that. Be with you.” It was the only thing he felt he could say. It was his truth. He never expected that he would get a chance to be with you or that you would even want him like that.

“So, what does that mean?” It was fair of you to ask him that. What did that mean?

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I pay you… to spend time with me, in gifts, and clothes, and all this other stuff.”

He hated bringing up the money. Money bought him things, it wasn’t meant to be used on people.

“I won’t pay you to sleep with me. It’s not right.” He blurted out. Daniel had always tried to be a nice guy, and he just couldn’t use you like that.

“Who says that you’d be paying me to sleep with you?” You asked as if there was nothing wrong with that. He can’t do that to you. He can’t treat you like you mean nothing to him. “Maybe I just want to.”

Daniel can’t help but shut his eyes at those words. “But you shouldn’t.”

“What I mean is… I can’t keep doing this because of the money.” It was never about the money when it came to you. Yes, he liked buying you things and spending money on you. But there was more in it for him. “I care too much for you now, for it to be about the money.”

“Can you think about our relationship for a second… without the money.” You asked him.

Think about their “relationship” without the money. Their whole arrangement started because of money.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

"What would we do while you were in town? And I don't mean the shopping." Your question puzzled him a little.

Without the money? He thought. That wasn’t shopping?

"Dinner, and we'd go out to hang out with my friends, maybe watch a movie or something." He finally managed to get out.

Come to think of it he had never met your friends, he never tried to insert himself into your life thinking that there was no way that he would fit. Always busy with his career, media obligations, and his friends. It was easier for him to try to find a way to pull you into his world, without inserting himself into yours.

"What am I to you Daniel? What do you call me in all your notes?" You asked. It was like there was an odd shift in the room. Everything felt slower, almost hazy with how dark it felt in the apartment.

"You... you're my girl." He struggled to get the words out. He had only said those words out loud once, before that, it was always either writing them down on paper or in a text message. Saying it now felt strange on his tongue. 

"Why do you call me that?" You drew out of him.

As you walked closer Daniel couldn’t help but swallow down his breath. His hands felt hot like he had just gotten out of the car after an intense session on the track.

"Because you’re mine." He whispered, "I like spoiling what's mine." He still didn’t know what that meant for the two of them. Calling you his was one thing, but he knew that he had no ownership of you whatsoever.

Feeling the press of your body against his chest made him nervous. All he wanted was to get out of the hoodie that he was wearing. It would make him less hot, and make it easier for him to breathe. He felt you moving his hands to your hips, just laying them over the soft fabric of your shorts.

"It's okay, Daniel." You whispered brushing their noses together. "You can have me." The invitation felt too good to be true.

It was too easy to pull you to the couch and let himself get lost in the feeling of your lips. Two months without it. You were a drug in the best way, the best high he could ever get. How had he let himself believe that he could live without the feeling of you in his arms and the taste of your lips on his?

Coherent thoughts and feelings didn’t matter while he held you to his chest.

“You’re perfect for me,” He praised you letting his lips trail over your neck. You were trouble and he knew that he was done for.

At some point in the evening, both of you had moved to the bedroom. He was leaning back against the headboard, letting his eyes wander around the room taking in the contrast of soft creams and dark black accent pieces. A phone charger and a few jewelry pieces cluttered the nightstand to his left.

His fingers fiddled with the silver Tiffany bracelet that you were wearing, letting himself get lost in the feeling of your skin against his, seeing your hair a mess, and light bruises start to show on your neck.

"Can you promise me something?" You asked him.

He gave you a slight nod. He wasn’t sure what he could promise you. A wonderful life, a diamond ring one day? Okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself by thinking about a diamond ring.

"If we keep doing this," You said, pointing at the two of you. "Promise me that you know it's not about the money."

So it hadn’t been about the money for her? He couldn’t help but question. He still paid for things for you, food, clothes, even if he was the one who was picking things out to give to you. Money was the thing that held them together. 

"But isn't that why this all started for you," He asked. "Because of the money."

"Yes, when I was in school." You said. School. Right. You had been in college when you met. How could he forget? "But I'm out of college now, I can find a job.”

Find a job? He didn’t like the sound of that. That would mean that if they kept this, even if it was in some small way he would have to work around not just his schedule but yours as well. There was no way.

“Maybe even take over paying the rent on this place." You continued.

Pay rent. He didn’t pay rent on this place. He had bought it. He always saw it as an investment, he put down the 5 million on it, and if this hadn’t worked out he could always rent it out to someone. It wasn’t like he needed the extra income.

"I don't pay rent on it." He admitted, scratching at the back of his neck. "I bought it."

He looked over at you to see that you were a little shocked at his confession. Maybe he should have told you that when he had gotten you the place.

"What about you?" You asked changing the subject. "What started all this for you?"

That was a hard question to answer without going into too much detail. Everything in his career felt like it was falling apart and in some ways his life as well.

"I needed a change, something to make me feel like I was worth something. A priority if you will." That felt like the easy way to explain it. He hadn’t felt like he made himself a priority in a long time. Being with you made him feel like he was worth something. It was always time and energy well spent. You made him feel like he was worth everything after just a few hours together.

He felt you move closer to him in the sheets, sitting on his lap as your bare thighs brushed against each other. Your hair pooled around your face a bit as he tried to stop himself from pulling you closer. You may have just been wearing only his hoodie in bed but he could only control himself so much.

"You are worth so much." You said to him. He felt you lean closer to him. Touching your foreheads together. "All the money in the world can't compare."

God, that was cheesy. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing even if he tried.

Daniel let himself enjoy the feeling of you against him. The supple feel of your hands on his skin, the way your hair was just slightly brushing over his arm. Small things he hadn’t let himself enjoy before.

"I think that if we keep doing this," He started to say. He was slow to pull back from you. A the same time he wanted to cherish feeling you against him. "You need to know that it'll be more for me than it was."

He was making this choice for you. He couldn’t do this if you wanted to keep it casual. He needed it to be all or nothing. Full relationship. He couldn’t live with just having pieces and moments with you anymore.

"I understand." You said as he felt your fingers running over the skin close to his collarbone.

"No, like, I have feelings for you. Real feelings. And I can't do this if you don't feel anything for me in return." He stopped your hand where it was. 

He wasn’t willing to say the words I love you. He didn’t want you to shut him down if you heard them, he couldn’t handle it.

"I do have feelings for you, but I never thought that you would let me get close enough to see if there was more than attraction." Wait? What? He thought… it wasn’t just him then. He didn’t have to treat this like it was only based on what he felt for you.

“When did it become more for you? Italy? Meeting Scotty and my friends?” He couldn’t help but wonder. Why had you fallen for him if it wasn’t to do with the money? 

When you brought up the story of him insisting on walking closer to the curb on the street he couldn’t help but feel a light blush make his cheeks warm. He was just being a gentleman. Doing what he thought he should since it was late at night and they were in New York. He didn’t want you walking close to the sidewalk in case something happened. Who knew what could happen if you did?

“That’s when I knew it was more, I knew that I couldn’t make you give me more, so I let you give me what you could, until Monaco.” He appreciated that for a while she had been understanding of the fact that he didn’t want to just jump into something. “By then I was sick of waiting. I needed more… So I took it.”

Hearing that being in Monaco made you want more had made him see that it was more gradual for you than it was for him. He had been apprehensive to share his feelings for you, but now that he knew that you felt something for him, he wanted to be with you more than ever.

"I guess that means that we're both in this." You half asked.

"This means," He said, quickly flipping you onto your back. He made sure to rest his arms against the mattress to keep most of his weight off you. You let out a loud laugh. "That since you’re mine, I get to keep taking care of you."

You were quick to lock your legs around his back while he lightly trailed his lips over your neck.

"Know what that means?" He whispered, nudging your neck with his nose before moving up your neck. You felt perfect underneath him.

"There is... no way... I'm letting you... get a job." He admitted between moving to the other side of your neck lightly digging his teeth into the skin. Nope, not happening ever. You were his and he didn’t want you working if he could help it. Damn the fact that you paid for your schooling.

Daniel had let his eyes pear over to the window to see that it had grown dark at some point. Between the talking, the couch, and ending up in your bed. You had turned the lights off and Daniel had settled in against one of the pillows that you had on your bed. He had felt you move closer to him in bed, he turned over onto his side instead of his normal sleeping position on his stomach.

“Don’t worry, babe.” He put his arm around your waist, muttering into your hair before kissing your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was a promise that he intended to keep. He let the sound of your breathing settle him to sleep. It had been the first time since Monaco that he had been able to fall asleep without the sound of a podcast or music filling his ears.

The feeling of the sun in Daniel’s face had woken him up. He was under a thick duvet, his pillow crushed in his arms, and a warm body settled against his side. Daniel was careful to roll over in bed. He knew that this wasn’t his bedroom on the farm in Perth, his bedroom in his Monaco apartment, or the house in LA. However, waking up here didn’t seem out of place.

He looked over to the other side of the bed, past messed-up white sheets, and saw strands of hair gracefully falling over a pillow. You were still asleep, turned towards him.

He didn’t want to leave the bed, but he thought maybe it would be nice if he at least made you a cup of coffee. He pulled himself out from under the warm sheets, letting the cold air of your apartment hit his chest.

As he moved through the apartment he couldn’t help but rub his eyes. He looked through some of the books that were on your shelves, pictures of you with your friends that he didn’t recognize at parties and out at dinner.

Eventually, he makes his way to the kitchen, looking through cabinets and opening drawers before finding the coffee mug you always use. His eyes fall on the built-in coffee maker and he can’t help but think that it looks complicated. Buttons and screen. Are there instructions lying around somewhere?

“How do you work this damn thing?” He asks no one. He’s on his last try using the machine before giving up and just using Uber Eats to order Starbucks or something. He’s washed the mug and it’s still dripping wet when he hears what can only be your feet against the light hardwood floors.

He looks up seeing you and can’t help but smile. You look gorgeous in the pink dress that you’re wearing. He places the cup down trying to avoid one of the bigger puddles of water by the sink that is facing the living room.

“How's my girl this morning?” He asks. As you get closer Daniel can’t help but reach for you. Now that he can touch you as much as he wants, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

He leans down to press a light kiss on your cheek.

“Pretty good.” He can feel the smile in your words.

Everything after that feels easy, like the whole time he’s known you this is what the relationship has been like. He can’t help but stand there for a few moments, in awe of being here with you. He pulls his hand away from your cheeks, looking down at you as you peek up at him through your eyelashes.

“I know I bought the place, but can you please show me how to use this thing?” He says gesturing to the coffee maker.

You laugh pulling away from him just a bit before kissing his cheek. He can’t help the smile that creeps through. God, does this feel right. He watches as you roam around the kitchen making both of you coffee. The little sound of you humming to yourself, as he takes in the thought of being able to enjoy this all the time, not just when he lets himself indulge in his selfish whims.

As he’s watching you, he’s surprised to see you pull out oat milk from the fridge and put it into what he can only assume is his cup of coffee.

You quickly give it to him and all he can say is, “Thanks, babe,” Taking the cup from you.

He lets himself pull you to the couch needing to feel you close. It’s always been easy to talk to you, never having to miss a beat with anything that either of you brings up. Movies, music, anything. It just flows for both of you. He’s holding his coffee cup in one hand while the other is running over your skin, making little invisible patterns that he’s not paying attention to.

He can’t believe that some part of him thought it would be right to leave and run from this. It felt right, talking to you that night by the bar. From the moment he met you, he knew that he was done for.

SD!Danny Ric Series: @hc-dutch, @taylorslovesswifties13, @thatsusbitch, @laneyspaulding19, @basicallyric, @divya14, @zafetycar, @brekkers-whore, @cixrosie, @taytaylala12

[justlittlelandonorris]

LATE NIGHT DRIVE

— Summary: Sebastian Vettel, the gentleman that he is, offers to give you a ride.

— Notes: I woke up this morning with thoughts of Sebastian Vettel and this little idea playing in my head... so, naturally, I had to write it. Please keep in mind that I've never written for the F1 drivers before, so I hope this is okay! Let me know what you guys think :)

The distant glow of city lights lit up the night sky as you wandered through the paddock, watching the engineers tidy up after a hectic qualifying session. It turned out to be quite a busy day and you were more than eager to get some sleep. You had spent most of the evening exploring the new set of race strategies you had thoroughly devised for the team and thanks to your brilliant ingenuity, you felt confident that your leading driver would hold his pole position on Sunday and take the podium... alongside his teammate, of course.

Approaching the parking lot, you pull your jacket tighter around your body as the light drizzle begins to turn into a relentless downpour. It was getting rather late, you were soaked to the core, and your ride was nowhere in sight. A soft sigh falls from your lips as you pull out your phone, fingers hovering over the keypad, before the low rumble of a Ferrari f50 engine catches your attention.

"Guten Abend, Fräulein..." the familiar voice echoes out through the rain. Curious, you glance through the open window as your gaze meets the iridescent eyes of the German driver, a bright grin playing on his lips. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for my ride," you reply quietly as you glance around the parking lot, "but it never showed up." You hear the sound of a car door opening before you look up to see Sebastian leaning over the passenger seat.

"Get in." He offers, beckoning with his finger. "I'll give you a ride."

"Oh, you really don't have to-"

"Fräulein..." he raises his eyebrows in response as he peers through the windshield, watching the rainstorm. "I am not leaving you out here."

In a moment of contemplation, you glance at your watch before turning your attention back to the man, noticing the soft smile framing his handsome features. "Thank you," you say, climbing into the vintage car and fastening your seatbelt.

"It is my absolute pleasure, schönes Mädchen."

"Oh," the charming sentiment allows a soft blush to colour your cheeks. "Danke schön, Sebastian."

"Ah, sehr gut," he praises before turning his attention back to the road. A comfortable silence settles in the cockpit of the car as you drive towards the city, watching the rain drops cascade over the tinted windows. "You know, Fräulein..." he allows a quick glance to glide over your body, "you're not going to warm up if you're still wearing those wet clothes." He gestures to you as you take notice of the drenched jacket still clinging to your body.

"I'm so sorry," you apologise.

"You have nothing to apologise for," he says with a soft chuckle. "You can borrow mine." Reaching into the back seat, he searches through his bag before pulling out a jumper. "Das ist für dich."

"Sebastian, I-"

"Bitte," he begs. "I promise you will feel much more comfortable in this." Turning towards the man, you catch the glimpse of a soft warmth swirling in his iridescent eyes, before taking the jumper from him with a thoughtful smile.

"I, uh..." you hesitate.

"Don't worry, Fräulein..." he takes note of the way you're playing with the hem of your shirt, "I won't look." The pure euphoria in his voice piques your interest as you turn to him, a coy smile playing on your lips.

Slowly, you pull the shirt off and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud before turning back to the man, your smile growing wider as you notice his fleeting glance. "Sebastian Vettel," you say before playfully smacking him on the shoulder, "you said you wouldn't look!"

"I could not help myself," a quiet chuckle falls from his lips as he pulls up to the hotel lobby, "not when there's a schönes Mädchen sitting in my car."

"You're very sweet, Sebastian..." you say quietly. "I hope you know how much I appreciate this." You notice the hint of a smirk playing on his lips before the interior lights begin to fade, plunging you into darkness. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He brushes it off as he pretends to busy himself with his keys, "es ist nichts."

With a teasing smile, you lean over towards the driver's seat before placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look at you. "Sebastian..." you whisper, but before he has the chance to answer, you pull him in for a soft kiss. You hear a low chuckle rumble deep in his throat as his tongue glides over your lips, begging for more. He allows his fingers to delicately brush against the exposed skin of your body as you pull away, his eyes glued to the swollen flesh of your lips before putting the jumper on. "Thank you for the ride," you say before slipping out of the car and making your way towards the hotel lobby, leaving the man rooted to the spot as he watches you, a satisfied smirk plastered all over his face.

Translations (thanks to google translate):

guten abend, fräulein - good evening, miss schönes mädchen - beautiful girl danke schön - thank you very much sehr gut - very good das ist für dich - this is for you bitte - please es ist nichts - it's nothing

[lexirosewrites]

bear with me, i basically know nothing about the olympics and have never watched them. i had to google everything 😭

A! eddie as that one olympic pole jumper who was eliminated cus his massive dong knocked the pole down

O! steve is there as a swimmer, but he stuck around for a couple weeks after his events to watch some other competitions and hang out with his friends.

it's simple really. steves sitting in the village cafeteria the day after the event. he's still thinking about it, sighing wistfully as he stares down at his plate. its something french. fancy.

small.

steve can't help but daydream about it. the man was beautiful, and he also has a massive monster cock? so sue him. steve is only but a man. a horny one.

steve sighs again, twirling his fork through his meal. the last person he slept with had been below average. pair that with their terrible technique and you have an unsatisfied omega. he tries not to judge, really, but he cant help but have a preference. a big one.

steve takes a bite. he wont lie. he only ordered the dish because it had cock in the name. at least thats how it looked on the menu.

steve's snapped from his reverie when someone else sits across from him. the smell hits him before he can even look up, and he just knows they'll be hot as hell.

When steve looks, he cant stop his jaw from dropping, a dribble of sauce hitting his plate with an embarrassing splat.

its him.

holy shit. he quickly wipes his mouth and swallows his food. the man across from him (eddie, was it?) is almost unrecognizable out of uniform, curly hair wild, and wearing what steve can only describe as 80's metalhead.

steve only realizes hes staring when he sees the man's mouth curl into a smile, smug and amused.

[record scratch or whatever, i got the flu before i could finish this lil drabble, it woulda been where theyre both clearly attracted to each other, steve keeps staring at his crotch, and after working each other into a frenzy they bang in the closest bathroom. rip. im actually really into this concept even tho im a bad writer so i gave it a shot 😭 hopefully someone else will have the same idea and write about it too]

YES!!! MASSIVE DONG POLE VAULTER ALPHA EDDIE!!!! his very existence is omega Steve’s holy grail😌

[nokkihy]

MORE BLACK WRITERS WE LOVE TO SEE IT 😋

do u think u could write some hcs for 42! miles x track & field reader ?

EAT MY DUST

genre: fluff | pairings: earth42 miles x track and field! black fem reader

authors note: ikkk this is a lil short but this one took a sec to make 😭🙏🏾 i meant to sign up for it last year but i was still in vball season so i couldn’t 😔😔 anyways if anything is inaccurate lmk so i can fix it 🫶🏾

miles morales who probably does track with you (i lowk hc that he does track but thats for another time)

but if he doesn’t, miles morales is always cheering you on from the sidelines

miles morales who is always there if you need water right after your event

miles morales who watches you run in awe (esp if you run the 100m) because of how fast you are

miles morales who forces himself to look away if you do pole vault because he has an underlying fear of it breaking

miles morales who immediately steps up if you ask someone to hold your blocks, if he’s in track or not he hops the fence to hold them

miles morales who is literally jaw dropped if you’re a jumper, he doesn’t even know why but hes just so impressed period

miles morales who is also nervous if you do hurdles, especially if you do the 100m hurdles but he knows you’ll do well anyways

miles morales who hypes you up from the sidelines, if you’re first, last, whatever. he’s always there to hype you up

@ nokkihy , all rights reserved

[jesuschristmattyhealy]

bleak midwinter

(this is the first thing I've written in ages pls pls be nice! Also, I know that it is neither cold nor snowing in London right now but I simply don't care!! this is literally just domestic cuteness because that is what I have brain power for <333 goodnight)

It’s biting cold. So cold they’ve said on the news that the dogs shouldn’t go out for any longer than it takes them to pee. So cold that your dad is texting you from home that you should buy a space heater for the basement so the pipes don’t freeze. 

“Tell your dad if I’m buying a space heater it’s to shove up my own arse so I don’t turn into an icicle in my own living room.” Matty enters the room as you read him the message, clutching a blanket shawl around his bare shoulders. 

“Have you thought about starting with a shirt, sunshine?” You ask, tugging the fleece fabric tighter to his chest. 

“I did, but then I thought you’d rather stare at my ripped man muscles all day,” He jokes, flexing under the blanket. His hair is unbrushed and falling in competing angles across his face. 

“Ugh, you know me so well,” you laugh, pinching his arms, “Thank God for my big strong man and his big strong man muscles.” 

His voice deepens to a grunt, “Big strong man hunt mammoth throw spear light fire.” 

“Yeah, could you actually? It’s worse than the North Pole in here.” 

“Should we walk the boys first? That way we don’t yunno… burn the house down.” 

“We’re ignoring the weathermen’s advisory?” You ask, waving your phone screen at his face to reiterate. 

He sighs, “Okay, well then you get to tell them that they’re only allowed out for five seconds and deal with them looking at you like you ran over their friend for the rest of the day.” 

As if on cue, Mayhem and Allan lumber into the kitchen, jowls quivering at the prospect of the word “out.” Ever since you moved in with Matt, the dogs have become as much yours as they are his. Matty swears they love you more than him. And it’s true. You can’t resist their droopy faces and old man frowns. 

“Okay, fine,” you relent, huffing, “But they have to wear their blankets and their boots and possibly even a scarf.” 

“Right, that can be sorted.” 

He runs off upstairs to pull on something for the blustery weather while you root through the baskets by the front door to find the dogs’ blankets and winter boots. Matty made relentless fun of you for buying them, saying that no way would it ever get cold enough in London for them to use them. And then he’d seen the awkward, baby giraffe prance the two creatures did when the boots went on. He was so entertained he began searching for excuses to put them on. 

You pull each dog into your lap, cooing apologies and encouragement at their stiff limbs and whale eyes. 

“You’re going to look so handsome in your boots!” You remind them, to no avail, “All your neighborhood friends will be so jealous.” 

Neither animal seems convinced. Next are the blankets: green for Mayhem, red for Allan. You scrounge up a couple of crochet neck warmers you made back during lockdown that have become the dogs’ (your first designs were too rudimentary for human use). The two stand blankly in the entryway, staring up at you, a pair of disheveled and disdainful babushkas.  

“Right love, I brought you an extra jumper because that one’s not nearly warm enough, and I think you should wear these.” Matty rounds the corner, fully dressed now and very much resembling Joey Tribiani a la “The One Where No One is Ready.” He’s holding the sweater of his that you love to steal, and a pair of NorthFace snow pants that you haven’t touched since going home to visit your parents last Christmas. 

“Wearing enough clothes there, gorgeous?” You pull lightly at his two turtlenecks. 

“Time will tell, darling,” he quips, pulling a balaclava over his unruly curls, “Get your pants on then, would you.” 

“I’m going to look like a stuffed turkey in these,” you protest. 

He looks at you, “Love, we’re the only ones dumb enough to be outside right now, who are you worried about seeing you?” You purse your lips which he takes as invitation to steal a kiss, “C’mon, you’ll be the cutest stuffed turkey on the block.” 

You pull the snowpants on in a rustle of movement and fabric. He turns to the dogs who are still frozen in position by the door, unwilling to move a toe in their boots. 

“And who are these dashing gentlemen!?” Matty coos, rushing over to the dogs to tug gently at their ears, “Are you boys ready?” 

You love the voice he uses for the dogs, a high pitched, horse squeak that seems so uncharacteristic coming from a man who dresses in leather and cowboy boots on the daily. In the morning, while he’s feeding them before coming back to bed, you’ll lie awake and listen to the monologue running in the kitchen — asking if the doggies had sweet dreams, asking why Allan was whimpering in the middle of the night, asking where they should go walking today, quipping “the usual boys?” as he sets the dishes down. 

“They were born ready!” You say, straightening up from pulling on your fleece lined boots. 

“Right, then let’s go!” 

You open the door and the wind hits your little group like a cement wall. Within the first five seconds of exposure, your eyes are watering and your nose is dripping ferociously. Over the howling gusts, you can hear your boyfriend’s indignant complaints. 

“This is by far the most ridiculous idea we’ve ever had, I mean what are we doing, it’s literally cold enough to castrate me.” 

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, “We’re walking two blocks and turning around.” 

“And then is it Virgin River time?” 

“Virgin River and fire time, very much so.” 

“That’s all you had to say.” 

And he’s off, pulling Allan down the stairs and through the front gate. You and Mayhem can only stiffly follow in their footsteps, Mayhem taking each step as if stepping down into the Grand Canyon. Allan has stopped to pee on a tree and Matty is hoping up and down next to him. 

“I didn’t wear enough clothes,” he moans as you get closer to him. 

“Oh, poor man,” you pout, looping your arms and running a mittened hand up and down his bicep, “Is this helping?” 

He closes his eyes, scrunching his nose dramatically, “Emotionally yes, physically, not really.” 

“Oh dear, well let’s keep it moving,” you stick your hand in the jacket of his puffy coat and find his, “We’ll think warm thoughts.” 

He nods, “Sahara Desert, I am in the Sahara Desert and it is so hot.” 

The four of you walk as quickly as you can down the sidewalk. In a way, the silence of the cold is sort of pretty. It hasn’t snowed in a while and the remaining piles of snow are frozen into the concrete, glittering menacingly in the steely sunshine. There are rarely cabs or cars in your neighborhood, but today there isn’t even one. You can hear the window panes rattling in your neighbors' homes. You understand what they’re singing about in “In the Bleak Midwinter,” that silent frost that hangs over your head, a threatening promise, an empty maw. 

You’ve barely made it three house fronts when Matty suddenly announces, 

“Right lads, have you both pissed? Can we go back?” 

The dogs peer up at him as best they can from beneath their shawls. Allan does a full body shake. 

“Taking that as yes,” he turns the two of you in a half moon and sets off again at a brisk pace, a horse going back to stable, “I’m going to drink so much tea when we get back, you’re not even going to believe it.” 

“I’ll join you in that,” you mutter, tucking your chin further into your favorite wool scarf. 

You tumble back through the front door, a cascade of static electricity and shivering limbs. Matty hurries off in one direction to start the fire, and you in the other to turn the kettle on. You’re rolling the sleeves of his sweater up and over your hands and debating turning the oven on just so you can stick your freezing hands in when you feel a pair of hands on your shoulder. 

“How’s it coming?” Matty mutters in your ear.

“It’s not going half as fast as I need it to,” your teeth chatter around the words, a full body shiver pulsing through your body. 

“You know what they say about watched pots.” 

“I know, but I don’t know where else to look.” 

“How about at me?” He asks with a hint of indignation. 

“Oh, okay,” you giggle as he spins you around so that your hands can loop behind his neck. His curls are rough from the cold and goosebumps rise across his rosy skin. 

“Let’s never go back outside,” he mutters, burying his face in your neck. His hands wind themselves in the excess fabric of your sweater, his thumbs brush the bare skin at the base of your spine. 

You sigh, “But what if we need something?” 

He grumbles a laugh, “I have half a Sainsbury’s worth of tea, Jack and Mel, the dogs, the fire, and you. I don’t know what else I could possibly need.” 

You smile, inhaling. He smells of the wood stove, tobacco smoke and the vanilla lotion that he keeps swearing he isn’t stealing from you. 

“You’re right. There's nothing else.” 

[silverfoxstole]

Bears, bears, bears! Bears everywhere! And Doctor Who bears at that, made specially for and presented by me to Paul McGann, Sophie Aldred and Sylvester McCoy at Portsmouth Comic Con.

As most of you probably know, I document my bear-making activities on here and I made an Eighth Doctor bear a couple of years ago, followed by a Seventh Doctor last summer. Ace was a new one, and because of that I ended up making two, the first as a prototype that I kept for myself, working out the details of the costume, particularly the jacket, and the second for Sophie.

Back in February when I decided to make Anne Bearleyn I found that my usual type of fur was unavailable so I had to go looking for another, ending up with something that while it looked lovely was fairly hellish to sew as it shed everywhere. It was all I had when it came to making the first Ace bear, however, and so I went with that. Afterwards, having got covered in fluff again, I tried to find something similar to the fur I’d used for most of my previous bears, but when it arrived and I started putting one together decided that when compared to the bear I’d just made it looked cheap and nasty, which was definitely not what I wanted for this particular project. Consequently that fabric went on a one way trip to the bin and I ordered more of the other stuff, resulting in what I’ve termed a ‘furpocalypse’ when I decided to cut and sew three more bears in one day:

I had to vacuum both the room and myself four times, and clean out the sewing machine twice! That fluff gets everywhere, even up your nose! It was worth it in the end, though, as the result looks so nice. As the pile is quite thick I had to glue on the noses and use felt for eyebrows as thread just vanishes, but I think that actually looks better and allows for more expression.

I made a second set of Ace clothes while I was waiting for the fur to arrive; the first jacket had been a bit too small and I’d only had satin to use for the lining which disintegrates as it’s sewn, not something I wanted to give someone as a gift. It was a painstaking job to replicate the badges and decoration on the jacket with felt and embroidery thread, but I was pleased with how it turned out:

The costume is based on one from Remembrance of the Daleks, the skirt and t-shirt made from jersey and the decorations on the latter also of felt. She has a plait, rucksack and baseball bat, as well as a nitro 9 canister in her hand/paw (which I actually swapped out for a better one on Friday but didn’t take any pictures of it). The nitro is attached with velcro and can be exchanged for the bat. My only tiny niggle is that I made the jacket lining the wrong colour, only realising it should be orange when I started rewatching Sophie’s episodes last week, but that’s just my perfectionist side at work and her new owner didn’t mind.

“Aaaaaace!” You can see my original Seventh Doctor bear here; I changed a few things working on the new one, this time using blue eyes and making the jacket in cream rather than brown, mainly as a contrast with the darker fur but also so he would match season 25 Ace. I decided to use red paisley for scarf, tie, hatband and handkerchief, adding a red trim to the last two. The jumper once again took a couple of hours’ work, and as this was a present for Sylvester this time I did embroider question marks and chevrons all the way round!

For the umbrella I cut out several long triangles and stitched them together in imitation of a real brolly, using a bit of a skewer covered in felt for the pole (that’s not the word but I can’t think what to call the middle of a umbrella for the life of me!), to which I attached some jewellery wire pinched from my sister (shh!) twisted into the shape of a question mark. That was then covered in yet more felt. I’ve made a lot of things from felt lately!

And voila: one finished Seventh Doc bear:

I do hope Sylvester spots that he even has spoons in his pocket. 😁

Last but not least, we have Eighth Doctor bear, which I actually started first but I didn’t have enough fabric for his coat so he had to sit and wait while I worked on the others. My original is here; he’s gone through a few costume tweaks as I’ve tried to improve on things and this time I mainly used scraps left over from my own cosplay and made them up in the same way: shirt, scarf, waistcoat, belt and gailters are all the same as mine, and the coat is identical material but from a different source.

His shirt and waistcoat both fasten with buttons, and I made the watch chain and belt buckle from embroidery thread. It took several attempts to get the boots and gaiters right, and I went from having quite a large piece of faux leather to something about a quarter of the size, most of it ending up in the bin! Unlike my Eight bear he has a sonic screwdriver, made from - yes, you guessed it! - felt. Fortunately the TVM sonic is quite a simple design, unlike the other one I made which can be swapped with this one to go with the Dark Eyes outfit I ran up on an impulse because I had scraps left from my own jacket and put in the bag with him; hopefully Paul will find it as that DE sonic took me two attempts to get (somewhat) right!

I changed the shape of the lapels on this new coat so that they were more like the real one, and I also took some pics of him in his Dark Eyes gear:

I confess that he was the one I found it hardest to give up. Look at him:

And he matches me!

I had to keep telling myself that I couldn’t keep him, I’d made him for Paul, but it wasn’t easy!

Finally, a few pics of them together:

I was so, so pleased with the way these turned out. Along with Bush (about whom I’ll post separately), these are the best bears I’ve made so far, and I’m glad that Paul, Sophie and Sylvester were just as happy with them!

[shitapril]

this olympics, much like any of the other olympics, has yet again awakened the parts of me that I wasn't aware of - who knew I wanted to be a synchronised swimmer? a rhythmic gymnast? a pole vaulter? a triple jumper? 1 of the 4 people in the 4x100m relay?

certainly not me, but i will curse my third-world country and my pragmatic upbringing for the next few weeks and then forget this ever happened. see y'all in 2028 though when I am reminded of my apparent ambitions again

[qnewsau]

Tom Daley models jumper he's been knitting at Paris Olympics

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/tom-daley-models-jumper-hes-been-knitting-at-paris-olympics/

Tom Daley models jumper he's been knitting at Paris Olympics

Tom Daley isn’t just an Olympic champion. The gay British diver is also a talented knitter.

When he hasn’t been up on the board going for medals at Paris, Tom Daley has spent his downtime in the stands with his needles and wool.

The Olympics aren’t even finished yet but Tom has revealed that he’s already finished knitting his latest creation – a special Paris Olympics commemorative jumper.

Tom’s jumper is in the shades of red, white, and blue to match both Tom’s UK flag and the Paris flag, with the intricate Eiffel Tower Paris 2024 logo across the front.

Tom knitted his initials “TD” on one sleeve and the number 5 on the other to represent the Olympians’s fifth time competing in the Olympics.

He showed off his work – which you can see more on Tom’s separate knitting Instagram account – in new videos on social media.

@tomdaley I FINISHED MY SWEATER! What do you thunk? @Made With Love ♬ original sound – Tom Daley

@tomdaley THE MAKING OF MY SWEATER #paris2024 #olympics @Made With Love ♬ Summer Vibes – GRLN

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  A post shared by Made With Love (@madewithlovebytomdaley)

Tom Daley won silver medal at Paris Olympics

Last week, Tom Daley and his British diving partner Noah Williams won silver in the men’s synchronised dive at the Paris Olympics.

His first silver medal is his fifth, completing Tom’s set alongside his three bronze and the gold medal he picked up in Tokyo.

After winning gold, Tom took a long break from the sport.

But the British star said he returned for one reason – to impress his six-year-old son Robbie.

“Robbie was like, ‘Papa, I want to see you dive in the Olympics’. And that was that,” Tom told BBC Sport last week.

“When your kid asks you to do something, you do it.”

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A post shared by Tom Daley (@tomdaley)

Tom Daley’s husband Dustin Lance Black and their two sons Robbie and Phoenix cheered Tom on at the Paris Aquatics Centre.

“Doing it in front of my son who asked me to come back is so special. He’s six years old now and I think he might remember some of this,” Tom told BBC Sport.

“I now have [medals] of every colour, I’ve completed the set.”

More on Paris Olympics:

Retiring Aussie rugby star Sharni Smale wore her rainbow headgear at Olympics

Olympic pole vaulter’s bulge costs him a medal in Paris

Olympic opening ceremony queens sue after online abuse

Olympian Robbie Manson makes more from OnlyFans than sport

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[blackhill2245]

Watch my girlfriend

Warnings - none (:

Fem reader x carina x maya

I was sitting on the floor messing around with the new lego set carina bought me.

She promised if I washed her car she'd get me one, but jokes on her I loved washing her car it felt like I was in pressure washer simulator.

I fiddled with a small single piece, trying to decipher where it goes before Maya comes in with her phone.

"Here baby" she hands me her phone, I look up at her confused as she walks away before realizing she was recording.

"Maya?" I question quietly, but she was already gone, "maya?" I look around confused, fumbling with the phone. I look down and stare at it for a minute, "ummm"

I tilt my head as I set the phone down and look at it before shrugging and going back to my Lego. Five minutes later, I realized Maya is still gone, I stand up abandoning my Lego and grab her phone.

I was at the station, as I didn't have work and didn't want to be in the apartment alone so I tagged along with Maya, I sometimes did it with Carina to but it's boring at the hospital so I didn't do it that often.

"Um well hello" I wave to the camera, slowly looking around for my girlfriend.

"Ummm, I'm mayas girlfriend and carinas too," I smile, beaming as I think about them.

"I'm just gonna - hey Andy?" My eyes dart away from the screen as I see one of my good friends Andy Herrera."Do you know where Maya is?" I was a little nervous although Andy is my good friend. i still get anxious around her, "Oh hey, did you not hear the bell?" I furrow my brows,"no?" She shakes her head, amused."They were called to a house fire. " I make an oh face and nod."How come you aren't there?" I question, "I'm not feeling great, so I volunteered for desk duty".

Before I could respond the reception phone rings and she gives me an apologetic look before walking away.

I quickly realized the phones still recording, "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't forget you. " I talk to the phone as if it's a person.

I look around before smiling "Hey! I'll being you on a tour" I skip down the stairs passing a confused Andy on the phone and heading to where the trucks are usually parked.

"I call this the garage because I don't actually know the name. It's where they keep the ambulance and the truck" I pan the phone around trying to get everything shown.

"Oh! And that's the pole!- wait. " I quickly rush back up the stairs, arriving at the top of the pole slightly out of breath.

"I should work out with Maya more" I mutter.

"Normally, I'm not allowed down the pole, but... nobody's here to tell me no. " I smile cheerily, setting the camera down to get a good view.

"OH, this is kinda scary," I waver as I dangle from the pole, "Uh well here goes nothing" I slide down, but go to fast.

"Ow, ow, ow." I clutch my wrist legs still wrapped around the pole, but I'm sitting on my bum, my lip wobbles as I stand up clutching my wrist I make my way back up to get the phone avoiding Andy as I knew she'd be mad I went down it with out permission.

I sadly grabbed the phone, walked down to Mayas office and lay on her bed in her bunk room.

I gently toss the phone on the bed before curling up, but not before grabbing Mayas jumper and using it as a blanket.

"I wanna go home now," I mutter sadly, unaware the camera was still pointing at me.

I sulk around for another ten minutes, my wrist bruising causing some tears as I accidentally put pressure on it.

I don't hear the truck pull in, I only realize they're back when Maya comes into her office.

"Baby!?" She asks looking for me.

"In here!" I tried to be loud but honestly I was sad I mean why did I have to get hurt on the stupid pole, now carina gonna be mad at me and so is Maya because I'm not supposed to go down it and I did.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She sits next to me on the bed rubbing my shoulder, "is that still recording?" She says, surprised by taking the phone and ending the recording.

"I did something stupid," I mutter, squishing my face into her leg.

"Well how about we go home hmm? Maybe Carina cuddles will cheer you up" I smile slightly at the mention of Carinas famous snuggles, "but your shift" She shushes me "don't worry it's over now, let's go home" I gets up gathering our bags and leading me to the car, not asking about what I did.

Later that night, after I went to bed, Carina and Maya looked at the recording. They hadn't asked how I injured myself, nor why i didn't stop recording like any normal person. They knew i wasn't normal. They also wanted to look at the recording themselves.

"OH poor bambino," maya shakes her head, "she's such a brat, she knows we don't want her going down the pole" carina shakes her head fondly stroking our head, from my position on her chest I grunt in annoyance "I'm not a brat!" I stick my tongue out at maya, before melting as Ctina scratches my head.

"You're meant to be asleep. You have an early start tomorrow," carina helpfuly points out. "Well it's hard to sleep when your being so loud" I groan dramaticly.

Maya rolls her eyes covering my eyes with her hand, "go to sleep" she chuckles.

I yawn and decide to sleep, but not because she said to!

Maya looks down at her phone, rolling her eyes again. "They didn't watch our girlfriend properly" she referred to the start of the video before she gave us the phone.

"You're so silly. Where did you see this trend?" The brunette asked, stroking our head softly, trying to keep us asleep, "amelia showed me it. i thought it was cute"

"Makes sense" is all carina says before she to shortly falls asleep herself.

Low key hate this doesent sound like carina or maya at all, but like spent a while on this and don't want to scrap it so enjoy (:

[helianskies]

winter prompts ☃️

'tis the season to write some slightly fluffier offerings for once! you know the drill! feel free to check with me if you are unsure if i'd write certain characters/pairings! <3

[ 1 ] - “what do you mean you 'don't need a coat'?”

[ 2 ] - “that was more ice than snow!”

[ 3 ] - “please don't fall!”

[ 4 ] - “maybe you could warm me up...?”

[ 5 ] - “look's like you've caught a cold.”

[ 6 ] - “you're so toasty!”

[ 7 ] - “thank you for making it special.”

[ 8 ] - “i'm actually allergic to holiday cheer.”

[ 9 ] - “let's build a snowman!”

[ 10 ] - “it's just a little something.”

[ 11 ] - “winter and i are sworn enemies.”

[ 12 ] - “but if i get out of bed i'll be cold!”

[ 13 ] - “look, a shooting star!”

[ 14 ] - “you did all of this yourself?”

[ 15 ] - “i can't believe you got me this!”

[ 16 ] - “that's the ugliest jumper i've ever seen.”

[ 17 ] - “you've never been ice-skating?”

[ 18 ] - “can i borrow your scarf?”

[ 19 ] - “come on, dance with me!”

[ 20 ] - “looks like we're snowed in.”

[ 21 ] - “office parties suck…”

[ 22 ] - “dinner is served!”

[ 23 ] - “at least pretend to like it!”

[ 24 ] - “here, warm yourself by the fire.”

[ 25 ] - “no one should be alone for the holidays.”

[ 26 ] - “i have something to ask you…”

[ 27 ] - “don't lick that pole!”

[ 28 ] - “i see we've ended up under the mistletoe.”

[ 29 ] - “hey, no peeking!”

[ 30 ] - “you're the best present i could have ever wished for.”

last year's list of wintery prompts is also over here for those who want to nose! happy december! and of course feel free to have a go at these yourself!

[randomwords247]

Today on things I have realised have been american-ised in Hilda that I didn't notice before: The walk signal.

Idk if I would've fully realised before going to the states on holiday but america does these bad boys way differently

Firstly, I've never heard anyone call them a walk signal. Pedestrian crossing or zebra crossing, or just "Green man".

Secondly: The signal's are different

Usually its a guy standing or even a bike coloured red, and when you can go? It's a green man walking - Hence, green man. Idk how common the bike is off the top of my head but its not always there

This is typically what they look like. The pole with the button you press has the green man, and sometimes there's also a traffic light (upper photo) with the green/red man.

Sometimes they look like this, but typically it looks like the photos above

It's not important or anything, but I think it's interesting how many little things are different, like them calling jumpers "sweaters" or the side Johanna drives being swapped. Small changes from the original british comic that add up to be a little odd to see at first, but are pretty darn nifty to notice and talk about. I don't know if I would've fully clocked it as american/canadian before I went there and experienced the different signals in person

I just think its Neat

(also these photos are taken from google images. Before anyone thinks they can dox me. Its very dark outside I couldn't take a photo of these if I tried)