#then on monday i got another concussion at work

[kitticula]

healing from brain damage is definitely the worst injury ive ever had to heal from so far 😞 this shit is so difficult yall

[cheriladycl01]

I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader

Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!

Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.

But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.

He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.

It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.

He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.

But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.

Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.

"Is she okay?" one of them said.

"I could hear something break!" another admitted.

Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.

Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.

You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.

When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.

He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.

"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.

"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.

"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.

"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.

"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.

"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.

He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.

He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.

"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.

"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.

"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.

"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.

"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.

After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.

He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.

When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.

He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.

"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.

"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.

"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.

"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.

y/user

Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing

y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.

Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)

Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)

Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)

Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy

It’s been eventful to say the least!

Tagged 2 People

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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!

maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰

-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭��🏼

landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈

-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …

-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!

-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️

-> landonorris: 😦

Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱

Taglist:

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[tim-shii]

📱 break the internet !

sypnosis: you, blue lock boys and tiktok trends. what could possibly go wrong?

features: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin

a/n: not proofread i apologize also let me know if you want a part 2 !

okokokok / lalalala — isagi yoichi

isagi is the lalalala and the okokokok. he is both. he rambles to you a lot. talking about the things he passed by while on the way to you or maybe he'll talk to you about his most recent game where he scored the last goal. you don't know a lot about soccer? that's okay! isagi is more than happy to discuss to you how the game works and the terms commonly used on the field. 

however, isagi is also a great listener. he looks at you and focuses only at you as you talk. maybe you're complaining about your professor who loves torturing his students by assigning a new homework every hour. or perhaps you were telling him the latest gossip in the hollywood scene, god knows a new one pops up every two days, or maybe minutes. 

he's attentive to every word you say. and when you bring up the topic again another day, he butts in and smiles widely when you applaud him for remembering. it's like he has the key words and important notes listed in his head. of course, this also applies to everything you say in passing, whether you said it intentionally or not. 

on a monday morning, isagi will randomly knock at your door. a necklace in hand, one you mentioned during your date night five weeks ago.

heart photobooth — bachira meguru

bachira was the one who showed you the trend. braging in your shared room with a wide grin on his face before belly flopping beside you on the bed. he pushes the phone in your face, excitedly chanting let's do it! let's do it! so you say yes, of course. who can ever say no to him anyways.

he proposes to do three videos of the same trend. one with him doing the frames, another with you and one with both of you alternating to do the frames of four sides. you start off with being the frame. as you follow your arm along the line shown on screen, bachira runs around behind you trying to pose quickly as the timer before each snap is no longer than five seconds.

you laugh under your breath as bachira runs around, almost toppling over several times until he finally does. he slips on a lone sock laying on the ground and fell on his back. gasping, you run to his side and grab his face, silently muttering if he has a concussion or not. bachira only laughs at you then pulls you down with him, you head resting on his chest.

at the end you guys only got to film one video. but on the good side, said video went viral and many comments talk about how you two are such a cute couple and bullying the hell out of the sock bachira slipped on.

half and half heart on each other's cheeks — itoshi rin

convincing rin to do this was easy. just say you want a wallpaper and he's agreeing almost too immediately. he has thoughts of backing out when he sees you pull out a tube of lipstick though. he scoots closer when you usher him to. phone stood on a water tumbler, recording each passing second. 

you grab his face with one hand, turning so his left cheek is facing you. you drag the pigment in an almost c shape pattern along his chiseled features. smooshing your cheek with his as soon as the lipstick leaves his face. he grunts as he was taken aback, grabbing on your waist for support. he looks at you with a love in his eyes when you pull away and saw a matching c shape mark on your cheek. 

reaching out to stop the video, you pull rin closer to you again. this time, angling his face so a heart forms in between you two. seeing you struggle to take the photo, rin takes the phone into his arms and stretched out his arm, clicking it after. he pulls away from you to admire the picture. exiting the camera app and opening his contact to send the picture to himself at that very moment. he kisses your cheek while you're editing the video, chin propped up on your shoulder, warm breaths hitting your neck.

unfortunately, his teammates saw the video going around tiktok and constantly spams his phone. best believe, the only thing they're receiving from him is his cold shoulder and death glares. he's happy he has a new lockscreen though. and a cute one at that.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Are You Mine?

rhea x reader

content: reader accidentally gets knocked out causing memory loss but rhea is there to help you remember. a cute fluffy lil fic (gonna try first person in a more diary kinda way?? i hope this makes sense and works??!?!)

One Monday Night RAW went a little too crazy. Rhea and Shayna were arguing which ended up becoming a fight. Things got out of hand and chairs were being thrown. Sitting in the front row, I got free tickets because Rhea is my hot goth buff girlfriend, anyway, one of the chairs ended up hitting me in the head. Everyone thought it was planned but it surely was not.

I was immediately out, on the floor. For the sake of television, Rhea and Shayna continued to argue but once the segment was over and the commercial came, the goth wrestler jumped out of the ring and flew to my side.

Medics ran towards me, rolled me out on a gurney and drove me to the local ER. Once the show was done, Rhea drove to the hospital and forced her way towards my bedside. She was crying and holding my hand begging and pleading for me to wake up. I had tubes and lines all over me.

“Is she okay? Will she wake up?” the australian asked the nurse.

“She had a bad hit, so she’ll be out for a while. But everything inside is looking as good,” the nurse sounded dull and tired. I was probably her fiftieth concussion that day.

“So she will wake up?”

“It looks like she will be able to. Considering how hard she was hit, she might have some memory loss, so be prepared for that,” she wrote something on my chart.

“Fuck,” Rhea growled.

The nurse jumped a bit at the muscular woman in her intense makeup and dark clothing. She was scared of her when she walked in but it wasn’t even close to the craziest thing she saw that day.

“I’ll be back later to check on her,” she placed the chart on the hook.

“Okay…Thank you,” Rhea kissed my hand and rested her head on the bed.

The nurse left and closed the curtain behind her.

You’re probably wondering how I remember all this…well I don’t. This is what was told to me and a little bit of dramatization for the story. But this next bit I do remember because it was after I woke up and I was able to recover my memory, but not at first. Don’t worry, it’ll get good.

So after a few hours, according to the doc, I finally woke up. I forced my eyes open and looked to see who was resting beside me. I tried to not freak out about this large dark woman holding my hand but I couldn’t think at all other than “Where am I ?!”

“Y/N!! You’re awake!” she kissed my hand and I immediately pulled it away but she didn’t take too much notice of it because she stood and called for the nurse, “Nurse!! Please hurry she’s awake!! Nurse!”

The nurse walked just a bit quicker than her normal gait. Followed by two more who were checking on different tubes and monitors. She shined the small light in my eyes as I squinted away from her, she checked my pulse and my breathing before spewing off some random medicines.

“Can someone please tell me where I am and why I’m here?” I sat up trying to avoid everyone touching me.

“You had a bad concussion, you were out for a good few hours. You’re at Rosendall Grace hospital,” the nurse said as if she was reciting lines from a play.

“How?” was all I could say.

“It was my fault,” the scary muscular woman said sniffling in the corner, “I was arguing with shayna and we threw a chair and it hit you, I’m so sorry baby.”

“Who’s Shayna and why’d you call me baby? Who are you?” I felt the side of my head that was pulsing. It felt like my brain was going to burst out.

“Don’t touch, there’s a wound there,” the nurse pulled my hand away.

“Shit,” the dark woman slammed her hand on the wall, “You lost your memory. I’m Rhea, I’m your girlfriend and have been for two years. I’m a wrestler for WWE, and Shayna is another wrestler and we were arguing on television but you were in the audience.”

The nurses that were swarming around me looked at each other as if it finally clicked in their head why she looked the way she did and why she was here with me.

“What’s WWE?”

“You’ll remember later, too much to explai-”

“Please don’t pull out your IV,” the nurse grabbed my wrist.

“I’m scared, I don’t know who she is, I’m in a random hospital with nurses that could give two shits about me. I want to leave, please!” I tried wriggle my arm out from her grip.

Rhea sits down in the chair in the corner of the room, “Please just listen to them for right now and you’ll be out sooner. Fighting them won’t help,” she sighed putting her head in her hands.

“Fine,” I huffed crossing my arms refusing them from touching me more.

“Please, we need to fix it,” the nurse held out her hand.

If looks could kill, she’d be long gone by now with the daggers I was shooting at her. She didn’t budge. So I so dramatically give her my hand.

“Thank you,” she snipped, “this is medicine that will help with the pain… morphine,” she shot a look to the australian, as if she was making sure she knew what was going to happen. “You should get your memories back within the night,” she looked back at me giving a fake smile. Taking a big sigh and checking the medicine bag hanging near me, “try to jog her memory like talking about things she likes or about the moments leading up to the injury,” she turned towards my girlfriend before nodding her head. Who knows how long she’s been here.

“Okay, yeah… I can do that,” Rhea dragged the chair back to the side of the bed.

“We’ll be back later the check on things,” the nurse gave a nod and shut the curtain once more.

“Hey,” she tried to grab for my hand but I pulled it away.

“Don’t touch me, I don’t know who you are,” I turned away from her.

“You know me very well actually,” she sat back in the chair, “You know how much vegemite I like on my toast, you know that I love to be the little spoon, you know that I-”

“Vegemite?” I looked at her confused because what the hell is that, legitimately.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved me away.

“And you,” I gestured frantically to her big arms and muscular stature, “like to be the little spoon?”

“Yes. Don’t start with me, princess,” she began to play into the memory loss as if I was someone she had never met before.

Unbeknownst to me, she was trying to win me back over but obviously I had no clue who this dark haired goth woman was. Did I think she was attractive? Yes but that’s not the point.

“Oh now you’re trying to flirt with me,” I said.

“I’m always flirting with you actually,” she winked.

The butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I tried my best to hide them but…

“Now how did I know that would fluster you, hm?”

“I don’t know! You’re good a flirting?!” I shrugged.

“I am, thank you,” she giggled.

“Ugh,” I huffed and crossed my arms. I remember thinking that she was so incredibly attractive and mysterious. I needed to know more about her but I had no clue where to start. We sat in silence for a good long minute before I decided to break it. “What did you say you did?”

“I’m a wrestler for WWE.”

“And what’s that?”

“It stands for World Wrestling Entertainment. My nickname is Mami, and I’m the big scary villain along with three other guys but we’ll get to them later.”

“Oh,” I really did try to process what she said but I was so far out of it that I had no clue what wrestling was. I thought that if I faked it, she would believe me.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember, you will eventually,” only then did I notice what she was wearing because she was putting everything on display by her manspreading. She noticed that I was staring pretty hard trying to take it all in, “What’re ya looking at so hard?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m trying to figure out what you’re wearing and why you’re wearing it,” I shifted in the bed.

“Oh,” she chuckled before she stood. “These are my boots,” she pointed at them as her feet turned in, “these are my fishnets,” she pulled at them with a snap, “they always gets holes in them but I think it makes me look cooler, and these are my lil booty shorts,” she pointed at them with both of her hands gesturing to her center, “this is my shirt with the group on it… that’s me,” she pointed at each of the silhouetted figures on the shirt, “that’s Dom Dom, that’s Damian and that’s Finn. They’re my boys,” she smiled.

“Hmm,” I said contently. I was really was fascinated by this woman. She was so… interesting.

She sat back down pulling the chair closer to the bed but I didn’t feel the need to shy away again. Something about her made me feel…safe.

She cleared her throat, “so do you remember anything at all?”

“Well, I know my name is (y/n) only because that’s what you said earlier, and I know I got hit in the head, and obviously I know how to talk, but other than that…” I couldn’t think of anything, nothing at all. I began to freak out a little but I tried to hide it as best I could.

“Hey, hey," she grabbed my hand, "it's okay, you'll get your memories back soon, I'm sure. Nothing to worry about, just a lil blip is all," she kissed my hand.

A shot of warmth from her voice as the kiss flew through me and calmed me almost immediately. I guess I did know her.

We sat in silence for a good moment as I studied her. Her eyes are an icy blue that almost close when she smiles wide, her teeth are perfectly white, her nose is long and skinny with a bump in the middle, it suits her. Her tattoos are dark but fit her style as if she was born with them, her calloused hands look rough but are softer than you can imagine. The way her black wavy hair falls perfectly around her face, framing it just right to accentuate her cheekbones. Her arms are muscular but you can’t tell when she’s relaxed, though I’m sure that if she flexed I’d go into cardiac arrest. I laughed at myself with that one.

“What’s so funny, love?” her voice was quiet but gentle.

The pet name didn’t phase me as much as the first one did, “just thinking.”

“Bout what?” She crossed her legs leaning on her elbow with her chin in her hand.

“How I wish I remembered who you are because I definitely think you’re my type,” I could feel my face getting red and hot.

“Oh trust me, I wish you could too because I most definitely am your type,” one of her blue eyes winked at me and the monitor started beeping faster.

She laughed as she looked at the heart rate going up, “Told ya.”

“Knock, knock,” a different nurses voice came through the curtain before she walked through, “your nurse left for the night so I’ll be taking care of you for now,” she grabbed my chart, “So how are you feeling?”

“My head isn’t throbbing anymore so that’s good, but I guess I still don’t have my memory yet.”

“It’ll come soon, but I’m glad the morphine is working,” she smiled as she put my chart back and flicked the IV bag to get rid of the bubbles, I’m not exactly sure why she did that though.

I gave her a weak smile before looking back at the dark woman beside me. She gave me another wink and the monitor beeped faster again.

“Oh! You okay?” the nurse shot me a look.

“Yeah, uh… I’m fine,” I tried to shrink myself down.

“She’s okay Doc, just trying to jog her memory,” the wrestler said.

“I see,” she giggled, “I’ll be back to check on you later. Maybe try to get some sleep, that usually helps others with their memory. Like a hard reset!” She quietly left the room, if that’s what you wanna call it.

“That’s actually a good idea, wait, when did we eat last?” my so called girlfriend asked.

“Around 5 I think?”

“What?”

“What what?”

“You remember when we ate?” She started to get excited.

“Oh… I guess I do!”

“Do you remember what you ate?”

“Uuuuhhhhhh….” I really thought hard about what food was, “Damn, no I don’t.”

“Damn,” her face dropped immediately, “I’ll get some stuff from the vending machine though, I’ll be right back, baby,” she stood and kissed my forehead.

As if someone hit me with another chair, my head pounded with memories. True Love’s Kiss really came through with this one. I remembered everything, who she was, what I ate, who I was, where we were, why we were here. I held my head as they came rushing back, “Rhea?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that again,” I pointed at my forehead.

So she did, but she didn’t notice that I said her name, which shoulda been the dead give away because I’ll be honest, I didn’t remember her name when she said it at the beginning of this whole mess.

“That’s what I thought,” I said.

“What?” she stepped back a bit.

“That I love you,” I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt.

“You do?! You remember?!” She was almost jumping she was so excited. “So who am I? What do I do?”

“You’re Rhea Ripley of the Judgment Day, you wrestle for WWE and most importantly you’re my girlfriend,” I shook my legs with excitement.

“Yes! Yes!!” She bent down and kissed my lips holding my face, “What else?!” she didn’t let go of my face though.

“We had burgers for dinner with the boys, Dom, Finn, and Damian. You had a match against Shayna that ended with me getting hit with the chair,” I laughed it off.

“YES!!” she kissed me once more, “NURSE! She remembered! Nurse!!!”

She came running in, “YAY!!” she was much more enthusiastic than the other one, “That’s exciting news!! Oh I love hearing about things like this, it’s so cool how the brain works,” she laughed. “I’ll get the doc to come check on you once more to see of you can be discharged. Be right back!” as she slipped out.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!!” Rhea kissed all over my face and down my neck finishing with a long kiss on my lips.

“I love you too…Mami,” I giggled.

“I can’t wait to get you out of here,” she snarled playfully.

“Me either.”

[aerodaltonimperial]

Passive aggressive Jack letting Hook know he is mad by committing every Italian cooking taboo he can think of. Looking him dead in the eye as he breaks the pasta.

(this is the funniest prompt i have ever received, i need you to know this - 💚🧡)

Okay, at first, it could have been... not intentional. Jack's quiet, but, like, he's sometimes like that, and it doesn't always mean anything bad, it just means he's all up in his head about something, and normally Hook just lets him work it out 'cause Jack won't give anything away unless he's good and ready. But it ends up hitting 5 minutes with Hook standing on the other side of the kitchen island while Jack cooks, and Jack hasn't said a word, and Hook... may have misjudged this.

Shit. Did he do something? He doesn't think he did. Did he forget something? Oh, god. Oh, god, what day is it. He's so fucking bad at remembering things. Is today important? Fuck. What month is it? He's panicking when Jack finally raises his face, looking up from the pot of boiling water. He's got the spaghetti in his hands, all bunched together.

He glares at Hook, holds his gaze, and cracks the spaghetti pile in half.

Oooooookay, that's bad. Shit, Hook's absolutely fucked up. He's forgotten something, or he did something, or is it possible that Jack had a dream where Hook did something and he's punishing him for it? No, no, Jack wouldn't do that. Jack's not the kind who...

...pours a jar of pizza sauce into the bubbling pan while the pasta hasn't softened at all.

Oh my god, Hook's gonna die.

"How's... how's your mom?" he asks, though his mouth has gone dry.

"Great," Jack replies. He doesn't break the staring contest as he twists off another lid and dumps the whole jar of oyster sauce into the pasta soup.

Oh my god, why would he even buy oyster sauce?

"Uh," Hook tries. "How's your..."

The rest dies on his tongue as Jack pours in a bottle of worcestershire. Jesus christ. Hook's entire family tree is rolling in their graves right now.

He has to leave the kitchen, but it was the wrong choice, because when Jack finally sets the food in front of him, the pasta is.... soup. It's fucking soup, and it's about the run off the plate. Hook spots chunks of pineapple swimming in the abomination.

Jack leans down, hands on his knees and falsely bright smile plastered on his face. "What day is today?"

"...Monday?"

"Well, you got close," Jack says. "It does end in y. How about an easier question."

Hook squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to look at the crimes against food mocking him from the plate. "Please don't."

"What date is today?"

"The... 10th?"

"It's the 22nd," Jack tells him. "So if you subtract four, what day would it have been four days ago?"

"The..." Oh no. Oooooooh no. "The one-year anniversary of... oh god." He's sweating; it's beading up on his forehead and falling into the food and he can only imagine that it would improve this absolute fucking horror show.

"Yeah," Jack says.

Hook swallows, and it hurts. "I forgot our anniversary."

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna have to eat this, aren't I?"

"Every single bite."

He can't. He'll throw up. He'll throw up, and Jack will absolutely dump the rest of the plate on his head, and he'll have to explain to everyone why his boyfriend broke up with him and gave him a concussion. "I love you?"

"Don't even think about it, asshole," Jack whispers. "You're gonna eat all of that, and then we'll see."

Dear god in heaven. Hook utters a silent prayer slash apology to all his ancestors shrieking in the great beyond, picks up his fork, and prepares to give his entire fucking life, and possibly his functioning stomach, to his relationship.

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING ALL STARS: Heroes and Villains : JUNE 1996

Shawn Michaels will either win the WWF title OR DIE TRYING!

By George Napolitano

Sure, 1995 looked like it was going to be Shawn Michaels year. After eight years in the WWF, MIchaels was on the threshold of super-stardom! Although Michaels was a major force in the WWF, the Heartbreak Kid still had to win the WWF title before he could be recognized as the best wrestler in the Federation.

On January 22 in Tampa, Florida, Michaels outlasted 29 other wrestlers to earn the right to wrestle Diesel at Wrestlemania XII for the WWF title. 

During their war Michaels appeared to be on the way to victory until his bodyguard, “Psycho” Sid, interfered. Sid’s interference cost Michaels the match and his shot at immortality. Six months later, however, on July 23 in Nashville, Tennessee, the Heartbreak Kid regained the Intercontinental title in a wild bout against Jeff Jarrett. Once again Michaels was riding high, but his reign at the top ended abruptly when he was attacked by nine thugs outside a Syracuse, New York night club. Michaels spent several days in the hospital following the attack, but on his release Michaels was still not fully recovered.

[As 1995 got underway, Shawn MIchaels was on top of the wrestling world. As 1996 began, he appeared this close to retirement. 

Michaels’ near-retirement came because of the post-concussion syndrome he suffered following a non-wrestling related mugging outside Syracuse NY.]

Then, on October 22, interim president Gorilla Monsoon reluctantly stripped Michaels of his Intercontinental title when it was learned that he was still unable to wrestle. Michaels was disheartened, but he vowed to return. On November 19, less than four weeks after the attack, Micahels against the advice of his doctors, entered the Survivor Series and was put into the “wild Card” match.

During the battle, in a five-minute span, Michaels was power bombed by Psycho Sid, was on the receiving end of a Razor Ramon “Razor’s Edge” and then had 600 pounds land on his chest when Yokozuna delivered his devastating leg drop. Needless to say, that was the end for Michaels that night. The following night, however, the Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels was back doing his thing on Monday Night Raw.

[It’s Savio Vega’s turn to send Michaels for a ride. 

An angry Heartbreak Kid dominates his foe

Michaels has had better days. Here, he’s about to get squished by King Mabel.]

But during his bout against Owen Hart, Michaels fell to the mat and collapsed. A hush descended on the arena as Michaels laid in center ring unable to move. Seeing this, paramedics immediately ran into the ring. Within seconds, Shawn Michaels was put on a stretcher, placed in an ambulance and rushed to the hospital for observation. 

[At a press conference, SMichaels announced that he would not retire, and predicted that he would win his second straight Royal Rumble.]

After undergoing a battery of tests, the doctors said that Michaels was suffering from post-concussion syndrome. The doctors also said that if Michaels received another blow to the head, it could be fatal! 

For the next few weeks Shawn Michaels career hung in limbo. Many friends, family members and fellow wrestlers felt that Shawn Michaels had already suffered too many injuries in his career and that the time had come for him to retire. After starting 1995 on such a high note, Shawn Michaels was entering 1996 not sure whether or not he would ever wrestle again. 

On January 8, 1996 in Fresno, California, Shawn Michaels stood in front of a battery of microphones and television cameras and spoke about his future: “For eight years I have been working day and night to become the biggest star in the history of the WWF and I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.the Injuries that I sustained in the attack were much more serious that I knew, but I didn’t care. My doctors and my family thought that it would be best that I no longer compete in the WWF, but I didn't want to hear it. I let my ego take over and I tried to get back into the ring. But this proved to be a big mistake. I collapsed on live TV, and all I remember is being escorted to the hospital.”

Michaels paused for a few seconds to compose his thoughts and then he continued, “I have to apologize to my friends, my family and my doctors, but Shawn Michaels is throwing his name into the list of names that will compete at the Royal RUmble. The hopes and dreams of a 12-year-old boy to become world champion are still beating inside the heart of a 30-year–old man, and I know that I couldn’t live with myself if I threw it all away. Regardless of who’s wearing the WWF belt, you will be facing the Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels at Wrestlemania. And, you will be giving your title to the man who will carry the WWF on his shoulders into the next millennium!”

With this, Shawn Michaels let his intentions be known. The Heartbreak Kid wants the WWF title more than anything else in the world. He’s tired of living in the shadow of Diesel, Bret Hart, Razor Ramon and the Undertaker. Michaels has earned the respect and admiration of his peers for his wrestling prowess, but he wants more. He wants to wear the gold that has adorned the waist of the others. 

Shawn Michaels can’t stop now. He’s climbed the ladder practically to the top, but he still has one more rung to climb. If he gives up now, he will never attain that immortality that he so desperately craves. Actually Shawn Michaels is as close as he’s ever going to get to the top. The only question that remains is whether Shawn Michaels will achieve his goal or if he will die trying.

[Interviews with Michaels make everyone happy–including Vince McMahon.]

[pbandjesse]

I apparently should not have worn my heart sunglasses in my photo today because I broke them. I cursed them by wearing them in the picture.

It was only mostly my fault. I let one of the little kids wear up today, someone stepped on them, they got bent, I tried to unbend them, dropped them, they broke. It's not the end of the world. I have white ones that I can wear if I really want to. And I have other sunglasses. But it was frustrating on top of an already kind of stressful day.

I slept okay last night. But waking up was hard. It was nice and I got to see James even if it was briefly. And I got ready to go. James made cinnamon buns so I have something to eat while I walked and honestly I felt pretty good.

I have a cut on the one foot and it just made my entire foot hurt and then just both balls of my feet so like very very sore. No idea why. I did my best to power through but by the afternoon it's definitely hitting me hard.

Man I was so excited to see the kids today. I got to get the flamingos. Which is my favorite class. And it was just a good day. But they had recently stopped masking at school and basically everyone is getting sick. Half the class was out. And while I enjoy a smaller class it definitely was a problem. And by the end of the day we would lose two more.

I got to draw with the kids for a while and they always love when I make them stuff to color. We had morning circle and snack. I marveled at how well the other teachers can't control the classroom. Because while I'm pretty good at it they just have this air about them that makes them really listened to and I am just really impressed every time. And after snack We had journal time and watch the little video about flowers. And I worked on my embroidery for a bit. And then we got ready to go outside.

And outside was great. But something keeps happening where a child will ask me if they can do something and it seems pretty innocuous to me so they go to do it and then another I don't yells at them because apparently it's breaking a rule that I didn't know about. And then I feel really bad. And I told the kids that we got in trouble because it feels like I'm in trouble too. But it's fine. And once we got to the playground everything was going really good. I played with a couple of the little kids and then was on the playground itself with some of the bigger kids. And then some of the bigger kids asked if I could open up the monkey bar area. Basically just be in charge of watching that spot. I asked Brad one of the other teachers if that was okay and he said yes but that because they don't have an open all the time a lot of kids are probably going to come over. And I was like that's fine I don't mind.

I went over and one girl went on and she a great one all the way to the end no problem and then poor Ellie tried to jump to catch the bar and missed and slammed into the ground. And got mulch up her nose! And I thought everything was fine but throughout the rest of the afternoon she started tripping a bunch and then she started complaining about being nauseous and having a headache. And I got really concerned that she was developing concussion symptoms. Like when she fell I didn't see her hit her head but during nap I asked her and she was like yes I got my head and so I texted the director for help and Ellie got picked up early by her dad to go to urgent care and I just feel like a monster! Like I know it isn't actually my fault and hindsight is 20/20 but also I was the teacher in charge of that area and I wasn't fast enough to catch her and I just felt so bad. Becky told me she'll let me know how she is on Monday.

Me and Ellie would sit on a bench and just talk. Iggy joined us. I played pretend with one of the littles. I did a little sewing. I talked to Lauren, formally of the museum, and she told me her neighbor just had a funeral for a dead bat she found in the sidewalk.

I stayed through the first half of lunch with the kids. But then I took my break. The other teacher, Ms Lyric, wasn't feeling great and would end up going home early too. But I got my break first and sat in the kitchen and enjoyed my soup and watched a video. And eventually wandered back upstairs so Lyric could go get some tea and rest her head.

The kids were a little pushy during nap. Meaning boundary pushing. Everyone wants a drink and a tissue and to use the bathroom. And it was tough to know when to say yes or no. And different teachers want different things. And then all of a sudden Ellie was on the verge of throwing up and I was calling for help. It was a bit stressful. But we handled it. I filled out an incident report. And I tried to just make sure everyone else was in one piece.

Soon Lyric would leave. And Hannah would come and help me transition the kids to the side yard. Where I sat in the train with the boys for a bit before sitting with Sam I til she upset me buy dumping a bucket of mulch on me after I asked her not too.

I got a bunch of hugs before I left. It's my last scheduled day for the foreseeable future. I let Becky know about my full time grant at camp and how I may not be available next year but I will stay in contact. She told me please do and that makes me really happy. I still really want to have them as a contact because even though I don't want to be there everyday I do enjoy it. Even if it brings me stress.

I headed out. And walked to Walgreens. I went a different way for some flavor and it was a really nice little walk. I got a new nail file and tweezers at Walgreens. And went home.

I collected all my stuff for my workshop tomorrow.

I had my headphones in and was startled when James came home. But I was happy to see them. They would make us pizza and salad for dinner. But the dough would take a while. In the mean time we cuddled on the couch and I looked at houses for sale.

I actually did that a bit during nap time too. I figueed out that if we get a mortgage for $140 to $180k we would pay about the same as we do in rent (mortgage, taxes, and insurance). And we would qualify for some down payment assistance and if we did the 3.5% fha loan we could possibly actually afford a home? That I could paint and diy all the time??? This would be a few years away. But it is fun to think about.

I found a few houses I did like. In areas in Baltimore I would like. It's not perfect but it's fun to day dream. So I spent some time doing that. Watching videos. Hanging out with James. It was a nice night.

Eventually I got in bed and rested here until I went to take a bath. Which was nice but my skin on my hands and feet hurt a lot. Frustrating. And even more frustrating that I can't seem to get an in person dermatologist and it makes me more annoyed that I canceled my online one. But it's fine it will work out. It's just frustrating that you try to do the right thing and it doesn't work out the way you hope.

Now me and James are in bed. And I am real tired. And tomorrow I have a long drive to Annapolis. And while I am excited for my workshop I am also nervous!!! I hope it's fun.

Sleep well everyone. Wish me luck! Have a nice night!!

[naritaren]

Had my neurotoxins/neurology appointment today and I feel like a pin cushion. My concussion evaluation score went up from last month which sucks, but also my neck pain got bad recently because of the botox wearing off. Today we did 48 injections of Dysport, which is less than last time (not by much though) and it was about 300cc total. We went deep on the right neck/traps because the emg machine lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. We went into the left side a bit but he said the right side felt worse than the left. We did the additional injections on my left temple because that's a trigger spot. He wants to hold off on neuropsych still because he doesn't think it's needed quite yet. Which on one hand, cool I don't have to do 8 hours of testing. On the other, I'm fucking having more memory issues. He thinks once I get through my thesis and have less stress the memory might be fine. He said we'll re-evaluate the need for testing at my next appointment in July because I'll be done with my masters then. EXCEPT I'M STARTING A DOCTORATE IN JUNE. AHHHHH Continue PT for another three months for manual therapy and adjustment on my neck. More time I am away from work dealing with my disability. Yay.... He highly suggested a heating pad that can plug into a car port for longer drives and a portable theracane to take to work. I'm also not supposed to do my PT stretches until Monday because of the injections. He doesn't want me to move around much so it can settle. Which is normal. I also bled more than normal. I left with like 15 dots of blood on my forehead today lmao Having a TBI fucking sucks.

[kentucky-daisey]

Broke my elbow in a bike accident late last week and here is what it's been like so far...

every person i spoke to at the hospital looked very concerned when i explained why i was in emergency (i got car doored and my elbow was super gnarly looking, a nurse asked if i broke it on the monkey bars)

It was so bad they sent me to "fast track" and the guy at the front desk ordered an xray so they were waiting for me when i arrived

a pair of researchers found me after my xray and asked me to join a study about bike accident recovery, which i obviously said yes to

fast track is aptly named, because i was sitting on a bed waiting for a doctor within an hour

then i waited for two more hours, during which time a lady got kicked out for shooting up in the bathroom and another lady made a phone call on speaker phone, reporting on her catheter issues

when the doctor finally arrived, she asked me if anyone had told me my elbow was broken yet (no, they hadn't)

they put my arm in a splint, not a cast, because the orthopedic specialist was off until Monday, so i now have to make an appointment so they can decide what to do with my arm

i also had a mild concussion, so i've spent the last three days lounging at home, wrapped in a blanket, taking lots of advil because my elbow, head, neck, shoulders and hips all hurt

the tenser bandages go so high up my arm i had to shower with my arm in a black garbage bag

i still have no idea if i'm going to have to take more time off work because not one person in emergency told me what was going to happen next other than to call the guy in orthopedics

sleeping with a poorly secured arm and neck pain is nearly impossible because i usually sleep on my side

i keep thinking i'm fine until i move and then i realize how stiff i am and how hard it is with only one arm

it has taken three days for me to be able to fully open and close the hand attached to my injured arm

clothing myself is so hard and i can't wash dishes because holding anything even a little heavy hurts

Everything else sucks and i really hope the specialist can see me sooner rather than later because i'd love if someone told me anything remotely useful about what's supposed to happen next.

At least after the hospital my mum insisted i stay over and her kitten spent the entire time napping on my lap. So, at least there's that.

[harley-sunday]

August Rush [07]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: Language. NSFW-ish. 18+ 

Word count: 4.6k

AN: First of all, I’m sorry for the long wait, bb’s. Adult life got in the way. Also, this was supposed to be the penultimate chapter but I still can’t seem to quit this story and so there’s at least another two parts after this. I don’t know what’s happening either. ♥

Last. I just want to give a big hug to each and every one of you, because the love you have for this little story makes my heart SO happy. To everyone who send me a message (anon or not) to tell me not to worry about rude anons - THANK YOU. Love you all something fierce! 🥰

Masterlist

A lazy smile spreads across your lips when you wake up on Wednesday because even though Carlos’ side of the bed is already empty, a quick glance at his alarm clock letting you know it’s close to eleven already, the memories of yesterday are enough to make it feel as if he’s right there with you. You relish the way your body feels worn out from a day at sea, with Carlos at the helm and you on your knees in front of him. 

Reaching for your phone you pull up your gallery app and scroll through the pictures you took, your smile growing even wider when you come across that one picture of Carlos where he sits on the deck and looks at you from over his shoulder with a cheeky smile. You know you’ve asked him if it’s ok to not go public for a while, mostly because you want to keep him to yourself a little longer, but you think the picture is innocent enough to not start any rumours if you were to post it online. After all, everyone who has access to your private Instagram account knows you’re here anyway. 

Looking through your camera roll there are a few other pictures you’d like to share - one of you that Carlos took that shows you lounging on the deck, another one a view of the coastline, and a selfie of you and Carlos that shows both of you laughing at the camera, his arm loosely draped over your shoulders and you leaning into him ever so slightly but which could totally pass as just two friends hanging out, after all you have posted pictures of him and you like this before. Maybe if you upload those three together with the one of Carlos you were looking at earlier, and caption it an innocent, ‘Sea, Sun & Captain Sainz’ it won’t be such a big deal, right? Right.

Wrong.

***

It takes your best friend less than a minute to see your post and video call you, which is some kind of record in and of itself even for Flo, who always seems to be on top of things. You push yourself up against the backboard of the bed, covering yourself with the dark blue sheet so as to not flash your boobs at her, and accept the call, “Hi friend.” 

“Uhu,” is all she says, eyeing you suspiciously. You know she’s doing that thing where she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask any questions, and instead waits for you to break and just tell her what’s going on, so you can never say she’s forced it out of you. She’s clever like that. And one of the reasons why you became friends so easily.  

While it’s a great tactic, and usually gets you to confess whatever it is you’ve done within a manner of seconds, this time you’re determined to keep your secret a little longer and so you stare back at her through the screen, “What’s going on babe?”

“I don’t know,” she says and you can see her sit down at the desk in her office. “You tell me.” 

“I’m good,” you tell her with a cheeky smile. "No more headaches or dizziness and the doctor cleared me to fly on Monday, so that's a big plus."

"Hmhm," she replies, narrowing her eyes at you and waving her finger at you from behind her desk. "You look different though." She doesn't say anything else for a moment but then she leans in closer and you can almost feel her eyes on you as she looks- searches- for something you're not sure you want her to figure out yet, but she's been your best friend for almost four years. Of course she does, "Oh my God!"

"Flo," you warn her, shaking your head even though you can't help your smile growing wider because you know what she’s going to say next. “Sssh. I don’t need your colleagues to hear this.”

"Oh. My. God." She exclaims again, even louder this time, either completely ignoring you or letting you know there’s no one else around to hear her anyway. She leans back in her seat then and grins wickedly, "You had sex with him, didn't you?!" She doesn't even wait for your reply as she does a little happy dance in her chair, "Freakin' finally."

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing out loud at her reaction, while at the same time hiding behind your hand to keep her from seeing you all flustered.

"You need to tell me everything." 

"I can't," you whine, peeping at her from in between your fingers and glancing at the clock on the top of your screen. "Carlos is almost done with his workout and-"

"Ok, fine. I just need to know two things," she grins. "First things first, when?"

"When what?" You feign innocence, as if you don't know what she's talking about.

She rolls her eyes, "When did this happen?"

"Sunday," you draw out and you can see her eyes grow wide. Then, just so you can try to regain the upper hand in this conversation, you add with a cheeky smile, “And again on Monday. And yesterday- Twice.”

Flo leans back and folds her arms in front of her chest, the accusatory tone clear in her voice when she calls you out, "Pip."

"What?"

"What? It's Wednesday! Why didn't you tell me sooner? Just a text would have been enough, 'Hey bestie, just FYI-'" She lets out a heavy sigh and throws her hands up in defeat, "I hate you."

"I know you do," you tell her with a wink. You lean forward then and lower your voice, "I just wanted to keep him to myself for a few days-" you scrunch up your nose. "Just until the season starts."

She shrugs and nods, "Yeah, ok, that's fair." 

"You'll be at Spa, right?" You minimise the video call and pull up your calendar, "Why don't we meet up Friday night? There's a nice restaurant in Malmedy we could go to. Catch up. Just us two?" 

She nods, "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good."

"Does Max know about this?" She waits until she sees you shake your head before she continues, "Pierre?"

"Nope," you reply, popping the 'p'. "Just you. Not that there's anything to talk about. It's just sex." You feel bad lying to your best friend but know it's for the best. At least for a little while longer.

"Oh babe, sure." She laughs, "You know they'll go and have 'the talk'-" she air-quotes the word, "-with him once they find out anyway, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh, cringing a little when you remember how both Max and Pierre, individually and without your knowledge, had cornered your last boyfriend at the Tuscan Grand Prix last year and told him that if he'd ever hurt you he'd be very sorry. Once you found out what they did you had called them into your office at Sochi, both of them together, and had given them a very stern talking to. "That's why I don't want to tell anyone just yet. Also because we're still figuring it out, you know?"

"Hmm," she agrees easily enough, either really not catching your lies or simply ignoring it for the sake of your friendship, "you know I won’t tell a soul, babe, but to be honest, they probably just need some time to get used to the idea of you guys hooking up though. You know how protective they are of you."

"Max is," you answer with a smile. "Your best friend just likes to stir the pot when it comes to my love life."

Flo lets out a laugh, "True." She leans closer again then and smiles deviously, “Ok. So second question, how was it?”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as the memories start flooding back and bite your lip, scrunching your nose at the same time as you tell her, “So worth the wait.”

***

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, an urgent meeting taking up all of your afternoon and most of your evening, as you and your team try to figure out how to bring the news that the technical director has decided to completely stop developing the 2021 car and focus on the 2022 car instead. Haas has already made a similar announcement back in March, so you won’t be the first team to do so, but you know the press will have a field day with it nonetheless.  

You’ve been using your bedroom as a makeshift office because even though you’re sure Carlos would never relay this information back to his team before the official press release, it’s not like you can ask him to sign a Non Disclosure Agreement either and so you rather not take any risks. When, after four hours, you can tell your team is in need of a break  you suggest taking one and urge everyone to get some food and some fresh air and meet back here in an hour, not missing the relieved smiles when you see people muting themselves and getting up from wherever it is they’re working from at the moment. 

You follow their example and make your way to the kitchen, hoping to throw together a quick salad and have at least one cup of coffee before going back. Piñon comes rushing towards you as soon as he sees you and after a few belly rubs he jumps up and sprints back outside, no doubt to go find Carlos, an excited bark escaping him when he spots his owner. 

You can’t help but smile when Piñon comes running back not much later, proudly looking from Carlos, who’s walking behind him, to you and back, as if he wants you to know that he’s responsible for this reunion. He is, of course, and so you give him a treat from the box on the counter and scratch his ears, “Good boy.” 

Carlos walks up at you and with one hand on your hip leans in and gives you a kiss, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod, knowing there isn’t much else you can tell him. “It’s going to be another couple of hours for sure. I just came here to grab some dinner-”

“Say no more,” he grins as he lets go of you. He makes his way over to the fridge where he takes out a container that he hands you with a proud smile, “Here you go.” 

You pout, your heart quite possibly bursting at this small gesture, “You made me dinner?”

“Of course I did,” he replies with a shrug, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How long have you got? Can we eat here or do you have to go back?” 

“We start again at seven,” you tell him as you open the container and see the salad he’s made. It’s like he’s read your mind and you’re not sure if it’s a happy coincidence or if he simply knows you this well. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, cariño.”

***

It’s almost eleven at night when you finally emerge from your bedroom again, the press release written and ready to be sent out on Saturday. You stretch your arms above your head as you walk to the living room, trying to relieve some of the tension in your shoulders from sitting hunched over your laptop for so long. 

Carlos is splayed out on the couch, watching a game of football that’s in its eighty-seventh minute and doesn’t look all that interesting if the nill-nill score is anything to go by. When he sees you walk up to him he holds out his arms and without saying anything you lie down on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks even though your head is still spinning. Carlos wraps his arms around you and holds you close, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you mutter against his skin, too tired to lift your head. 

“You ok?” 

You rub your nose against his neck, the now-familiar scent of his cologne grounding you, “Yeah, it’s just been a long day.”

He presses a kiss to your hair, “You want me to take you to bed?”

“No. Wanna stay,” you mumble even though you can feel your eyes growing heavy and you are slurring your words. You let out a content sigh, “This is nice.” 

Carlos chuckles and tightens his hold, “It is.” He grabs onto your hips then and moves you to the side before he rolls himself on top of you, taking some of his weight off you by propping himself up on his elbows. Still, you feel him press against you and so you roll your hips instinctively, drawing out a sharp breath from him, “That’s not what this is about, cariño. You’re too tired.”

You let out a frustrated whine even though you know he’s right.

He leans in then and lets his lips ghost over yours, his tongue licking across your lower lip. When you open your mouth he deepens the kiss but there’s no rush behind it, almost like you’ve got all the time in the world. 

Maybe you do.

You cross your arms behind his neck and pull him closer, relishing the way he’s boxing you in, most of his weight now on top of you, as you suck his tongue into your mouth, smiling into the kiss when you hear him groan in reply. 

***

You must have made your way to the bedroom eventually because it’s where you wake up the next morning when Carlos’ alarm goes off. He shuts it off with a groan before he presses a kiss to your forehead and gets out of bed. There’s a meeting planned with both Yuki and Pierre at nine and so you get up not much later, taking a quick shower before you get dressed and turn on your laptop. 

There’s still some time left before your call starts so you head to the kitchen for some breakfast and a cup of coffee, a little surprised to see an overcast sky outside. It’s not raining yet but when you sit down on the patio the promise of it hangs heavy in the air and you think you spot some thunderclouds in the distance. It doesn’t seem to bother Carlos, who currently is doing pull ups on a pull up bar he’s put up in the doorframe, and you can’t help but admire the view he offers.

“Looking good, Sainz,” you tell him as you slap his ass when you make your way back to the kitchen, letting out a laugh when you hear him chuckle and curse under his breath. 

Your meeting doesn’t take too long and once you’re finished you tell your team you’re logging off for the day, asking them to call you if anything comes up, and set out to clean the house in preparation for Carlos’ parents arriving tomorrow because even though Carlos told you not to worry about it you want everything to be perfect. 

***

Once you’re finished you and Carlos head out to the grocery store and if you thought it looked like you were feeding an orphanage before you were sorely mistaken because it takes you almost ten minutes to put all the groceries away this time. 

“I’ll go check on the laundry,” you tell Carlos once everything has been cleared away, knowing you still have one more load to put in. 

“I’ll take Piñon out for a walk,” Carlos replies, eyeing the sky suspiciously from inside the house. It still hasn’t rained but it’s growing more and more overcast, dark grey clouds blocking out the sun and the darkness makes it feel later in the day than it is. He grabs Piñon’s leash off the counter and whistles, the dog at his feet in an instant, looking at his owner expectantly. Carlos leans in and gives you a kiss, “See you in a bit.”

“Yep,” you nod and watch as the pair make their way outside. It’s been almost two weeks since Flo accused you of playing house with Carlos and even though you tried to fight it at first, still denying to yourself that there was anything going on between the two of you, you now wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You try not to think about having to leave all of this behind on Monday, not ready to give up on this safe space you seem to have created here, hidden away from the rest of the world. 

It’s only a few days until you’ll see Carlos again at Spa but you know it’s going to be different, the paddock not the most ideal place to keep a relationship under wraps, especially with all those prying eyes and photographers around. After Spa it’s onto Zandvoort, then Imola, and then another two-and-a-half months before the season is over and you have a chance to spend more than just a few days with him again. 

If he even wants to spend time together in between races.

There’s a little voice inside your head that wonders if maybe he doesn’t want any distractions until after the season. He’s currently sixth in the championship, his best result so far, a possibility to end up fifth or fourth. Even third place is still within reach and so you would understand if he’d choose to put all his focus on racing but- You shake your head, trying to clear your mind, understanding that this is a conversation you should have with him, instead of for him, and so you head down to the laundry room and focus on something you can control instead.

***

You shouldn’t laugh. Really you shouldn’t. Carlos looks miserable enough as is without you making fun of him but you just can’t help yourself, “Did you fall into the pool or-” 

Carlos just glares at you. He’s absolutely waterlogged, the skies opening about fifteen minutes into his walk when he had passed the halfway point and there was no use in turning back anymore. There’s a steady drip of water falling from his hair and his shirt and shorts, a small puddle already forming on the kitchen floor. Piñon is sitting at his feet and almost looks out of sorts, as if he doesn’t remember he can simply shake the water off and be done with it.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you tell him, pursing your lips to keep from laughing. “I’ll go get some towels.” You rush to the bathroom and return with at least four of them, handing two to Carlos and crouching down in front of Piñon to help towel him dry. The dog lets his head rest on your shoulder as you set to work and your heart melts at the trust he seems to have in you. 

Next to you Carlos strips out of his clothes, leaving him standing there in his boxers that are just as soaked as everything else and clinging to his skin in a way that has you stealing glances at them because Jesus- He cocks an eyebrow at you when he catches you, towel now ruffling through his hair, “My eyes are up here, cariño.” 

“Hmm,” you reply absentmindedly, still not taking your eyes off where the fabric outlines his dick perfectly, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him again, remembering how heavy he felt on your tongue and- 

Carlos puts one hand on your chin and gently tilts it back to make you look at him, “You wanna use that pretty mouth of yours on me again?”

You swallow hard and nod, this time knowing exactly what it is he wants you to say, “Yes, papi.” 

***

Carlos is shivering by the time you pull off him, opening your mouth to show his cum on your tongue before you throw him a wink and swallow. He holds out his hands to you and pulls you to your feet so he can kiss you. It’s filthy, him licking into your mouth and no doubt tasting himself and you moaning and pressing yourself against him, and when he pulls back a little and curses quietly against your mouth you can actually feel your knees go weak. 

His hands trails down your side to the hem of your jeans, eager fingers tugging on the button, but you swat his hands away and shake your head, “Later.” 

He pulls back so he can look at you, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Why?”

“You’re cold,” you state. It's then another shiver runs through him as if to help you prove your point and so you press a kiss to his cheek, “Go take a shower, babe. I’ll clean up here."

"You're too good to me." He gives you another kiss, more chaste this time, but still he lets his lips linger on yours.

"Go take a shower, Sainz," you tell him again as you smile against his mouth before you nip at his bottom lip. "No more shenanigans until tonight."

He groans in frustration but pulls back anyway, "So strict, cariño."

"Don't you forget it, babe."

***

The rain stops sometime during the night so when you get up the next morning, Carlos already up and busy with his workouts no doubt, and open the curtains, it feels as if the world has been washed clean, the grass a little greener, the sky a little clearer, and everything just a little bit brighter. Somehow it makes you feel a little less nervous about seeing Carlos' parents today, almost as if the world wants you to know it's going to be ok.

After a quick shower you get dressed and make your way to what you now consider to be your spot at the breakfast bar, firing up your laptop as you make yourself a cup of coffee before you check up on your work email and set out to finish your weekly to-do list. You're a little distracted by Carlos doing weighted squats just outside the window, risking a quick glance every now and then to make sure you don't miss the view he's offering.

You're almost done with your email when your phone chimes, letting you know you've got a new message. Pulling up your messaging app you're surprised to see Flo has sent you a cryptic:

'FRIENDS.’ Ahahahaha. No.

and a screenshot of an F1 Instagram fanpage.

When you tap the image and zoom in, your heart drops and you curse quietly. There's a picture of you and Carlos in the parking lot of the supermarket you went to yesterday. You are looking at something on your phone, probably reading the message Max sent you around that time, while Carlos, walking next to you with an arm draped across your shoulders, looks at you with a fond smile. There's a tag beneath the picture that reads 'Former Toro Rosso colleagues turned friends spotted shopping together in Mallorca.'

The picture in itself isn't too bad and it isn't the first time you and Carlos have had picture of the two of you together published online. Most notably after his second place and first ever F1 podium in Monza last year. You found him in the press pen after the race and without thinking pulled him into a hug to congratulate him and held on for maybe a little too long. One particular picture, taken at the exact moment where Carlos hid his face in the crook of your neck, his arms tight around your waist while you cradled his head with one hand, telling him how proud of him your were and how you knew his time would come, made it onto both your and his team's social media pages and gained a lot of likes and comments, most of his fans happy to see you were still such good friends 

What got photographed yesterday wasn't even half as intimate as that moment and yet something has you- Worried. Maybe it's because the picture was taken without consent. Maybe it's because now the whole world knows you spent your summer break with Carlos, without them also knowing about what happened to preface this. Or maybe it's simply because of the way he's looking at you, all kind eyes and what seems to be a very smitten smile. All it takes is for one person to comment how cute of a couple you are or would be and then-

You wonder how many more pictures there are. Is this the only time someone has spotted you or have all your outings been photographed? Why hasn't your team picked up on this? Why hasn't his team picked up on this? Should you do something? Will it only make things worse if you ask them to take it down? What if they somehow find your Instagram post from yesterday? There's no way the whole 'just friends' angle would hold up if those ever got leaked. Should you delete them?

Then again, would it really be that bad if the world finds out? Yes, you decide easily enough, mostly because you don't want this to be how your friends - how Max and maybe even Pierre - find out. But even more so because then it wouldn't be on your own terms. Both of you would be forced into either acknowledging or denying this and- You shake your head. You're probably making too big of a deal out of it. No one has ever leaked your private pictures before so why would that happen now? 

Deep down you know there's no reason to panic and yet you can't help but think that this will be some sort of turning point in your relationship and you hate how much it seems to be out of your control now.

You're so lost in thoughts you don't notice Carlos has finished his workout and is walking up to you and so you startle a little when you feel him wrap his arms around your waist before he lets his chin rest on your shoulder. You quickly lock your phone, not wanting him to see what has you so on edge.

He chuckles, "Did I scare you?"

"Little bit, yeah," you answer truthfully, suddenly feeling as if you’re being suffocated when he pulls you closer to his chest. 

Carlos doesn't notice it, or maybe he pretends not to, and presses a kiss to the skin below your ear, "My parents will be here in an hour. I'm going to take a shower and maybe we can start on lunch after?"

"Yep," you reply flatly, trying your hardest to resist the urge to shrug him off. "I'll finish up here."

He must sense something is wrong then because he wraps his arms around you even tighter, kissing the top of your shoulder, "Don't worry, cariño. My parents already like you."

Ah. It makes sense that that is what he thinks this is about and so you decide to play along, hoping he won’t ask any more questions, "Yeah."

"Hey," Carlos lets go of you and puts his hands on your shoulders so he can make you face him. He looks worried, "Are you ok?"

"Yep," you say again, giving him your best media-trained smile as you try to come up with something that will make him back off. "Just a little nervous, that's all."

He furrows his brows, searching your face for something you know he'll find if you stand here any longer, because after years of dealing with the press together he must still know when you're not being completely honest and your smile is fake. 

You know you can't lie to him and so you duck under his arm and gently push him in the direction of his bedroom, "Go. I'll get started here."

He doesn't say anything and does as he's told but, when he looks back at you from over his shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen, you can tell he doesn't believe you.

Shit.

=====

Taglist:  @shes-homeward-bound | @chiogarza | @oyesmendes | @thatchickwiththecamera | @sanne-p | @your-favourite-blonde | @internetgremlin | @watermel0nsugarhigh | @fictional-l0v3r | @nochillnel | @dr3lover​ | @dan3avacado​ 

[cloudlessly-light]

*Kneels at your feet*

May a peasant request a prompt where Emily sends Hotch DIRTY messages all day at work and since Hotch can’t do anything about it Emily makes him suffer? And then ofc he lets her know how much trouble she caused him once they get home 😈

If I didn't know who you were I'd be concerned LOL. Hope you like it you peasant!

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Smut, sexting, bratty Emily, dom Aaron dom/sub undertones, choking, orgasm denial/control, rough, mentions of impact play (paddle) 

Emily sighed as she laid back on the bed, towel around her body and already bored. She had been out of the field almost two weeks, a concussion leading to her spending her days either on the couch or on the bed. But she was going back to work on Monday, a long discussion with Aaron and the green light from her doctor finally leading to her being allowed back in the field. 

She grabbed her phone and smiled to herself, she might as well have some fun if she was going to spend the day alone at the house she and Aaron had bought together. 

What are you wearing?  

You aren’t supposed to look at screens. Came the reply less than 30 seconds later. She rolled her eyes at her fiancé. 

There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t do but do anyway. Like sucking you off on the jet. 

Aaron stared at his phone for a good ten seconds, his eyes glued to the text from Emily. He knew that she was bored, had been all week but she hadn’t done anything like this. Before he knew it his phone buzzed again, this time a picture of Emily barely covered by a towel on their bed showed. 

He felt himself reacting immediately, knew that there was nothing he could do about it as it was barely lunch time. 

Emily I’m at the office. 

The same office that you fucked me in multiple times?  

He groaned at her reply, pictured her spread on his desk as she came on his fingers, face and cock. 

I’m wet, soaked actually.  

My fingers don’t feel as good as yours though. 

He felt his cock jerk in his slacks as he imagined Emily pleasuring herself. He palmed himself over his slacks as his phone buzzed with another message. 

You’re thinking about me coming all over you aren’t you? 

No that’s not it, you’re probably imagining me under your desk, sucking you off while you’re doing paperwork like your own personal cock sleave. 

He groaned and closed his eyes tight as he tried to rid himself of the more than pleasing imagery his fiancé was creating. She knew how frustrated he would become, knew that he couldn't do a damn thing about it and he quickly pressed the buttons on his phone. Before he could send the message he got another text. 

Or maybe you could take me over your desk and spank me until I cry, I know how much you like that. 

He types out his reply furiously, another groan sounding in his throat as he pictures Emily’s red ass and tear-streaked face. 

Listen here you little brat, don’t think I won't make you pay for every text you’re sending. Every. Fucking. Text. 

He watches his phone, waits for her reply but it doesn’t come. He knows she’s not done though, is proven right when he get another text almost ten minutes later. 

Sorry I couldn’t hear you over the two orgasms I just had. 

“Fucking brat.” Aaron mumbled just moments before Dave knocked on his door. 

The texts had continued all day, Emily sending pictures and messages describing what she was doing, what she wanted to do to him and what she wanted him to do to her and when Aaron was finally driving home he was painfully hard and almost aggressively aroused. 

He walked through the front door and marched upstairs, undressing as he went, only to find Emily sprawled out on their bed, asleep.  

“Oh I think the fuck not.” He said, spoke loudly enough for her to jolt awake. She smirks as she sees him and it’s the last straw. He’s on her within moments, grabbing her around the throat and squeezing. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me?” He spat the words against her face, saw the glint in her eyes and he growled “You’re in so much fucking trouble Emily.”  

When he lets go of her throat she coughs but is barely able to catch her breath before he kisses her hard. His tongue presses against hers as he fits himself between her legs. She moans as she feels him pressing against her thigh, hot, hard and leaking. 

“How many times did you come?” He snarls when they break apart, his eyes dark and hard as he slides his shaft through her wetness. 

“F-five.” She whimpers, her head falling back as he suddenly presses inside of her. 

“How many times did I give you permission to come?” He doesn’t look away from her as he starts thrusting, bottoming out with each stroke of his hips and groaning at her tight center around him. 

“None.” She concedes and his hand moves around her throat again as he moves up on his knees between her legs. 

“Exactly.”  

She doesn’t know what he means by that but knows from the gleam in his eyes that whatever he has planned will probably bring her immense painful pleasure.  

He fucks her until she’s straining against him, body trembling as he brings her closer to orgasm. 

“Don’t you dare.” He growls against her ear as he pulls out. He snickers at the whine that leaves her as he turns her around and positions her on her hands and knees. He groans as he slides inside of her again, continues to fuck her hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall as she keens and writhes in front of him. 

“Please can I come?” She whimpers through clenched teeth as she grips the sheet beneath her. 

“Not yet.” He groans against her ear as his arm wraps around her waist, finds her clit easily and he snickers as she whimpers at the stimulation. “I’m going to use the paddle on you, five hits for each time you’ve come without permission.” It comes out surprisingly calm against her ear, the only indication of his own pleasure the breathiness in his voice. 

“25 hits?!” She ties to turn to look at him but he grabs a hold of her hair, forces her into the bed and the change of angle makes her vision blur as her orgasm builds. 

“25 hits.” He feels her clenching harder around him, feels his own need to come starting to overwhelm him as he thrusts deep inside of her. 

She can’t answer, the strain of not coming clouding everything else until all she can moan and whimper pleas and his name.  

“Please, please, please Aaron, please let me come.”  

He pulls her up on her hands again, leans over her back until his mouth is pressed against her ear. 

“Come.”  

Emily feels her vision blackening out as she comes hard and fast, the orgasm ripping through her body and making her fall onto the bed. The pleasure is blinding and for a moment she’s thinks she’s going to pass out. 

Aaron follows her body as she tumbles onto the bed, keeps fucking her as he chases his own orgasm. When he cums it’s hard and loud, a growl deep in his chest as he pumps his release inside of her. He gives them both a moment before he rolls off her, strokes his fingers along her spine to get her attention. Her eyes are hazed, cheeks flushed as she peers up at him behind thick lashes. 

“25 hits. On your knees. Now.” 

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

all the concussions gave steve memory problems and migraines bad enough to hospitalize and it gets really rough on him sometimes

Just his fucking luck.

He couldn’t remember if his mother wanted chicken noodle or cream of mushroom soup and he lost the whole slip of paper with the list. Must have thrown it out with the Snickers bar he’d nicked.

He tossed both in the wire shopping cart. Heard a familiar voice from behind and turned to see Billy Hargrove looking at him. A perplexed expression, the barest hint of uncertainty behind the eyes.

Steve asked like he’d missed something, “What?”

Billy’s eyes rolled up, “I said, where’ve you been, Harrington? You’ve missed the last four days of school.” He took in the mass already forming in the cart, “Some people are getting worried— What the hell are you doing?”

Steve glanced from Hargrove, to the basket, and back to Billy again, “Uhm….” Billy raised both his eyebrows, Steve thought they looked kind of like those fuzzy caterpillars his mother always yelled at him for trying to touch.

“It’s just,” Hargrove gestured to Steve, “You don’t look like the typical skipping school guy. You’re buying—” he squinted and Steve stepped out of the way for him, “—Relish, whole grain bread, and pre-made cookie dough? Shouldn’t you be sneaking some beer, or frozen pizzas?”

Steve pursed his lips and turned back to assess his lot, “That’s a lot of questions for someone holding bubblegum toothpaste.”

He heard Billy snort, kinda bemused, “It’s for Max.”

Steve’s ears started pinging when a wheel began squeaking, “Whatever floats your boat, Buddy.” His skull felt like he’d gone through a car wash. Not as bad as the rest of the week, but it was getting there. He vaguely remembered hearing something about a purple nail polish, although he hoped his mother would understand. “Sorry to cut this short,” he wasn’t even sure if Billy was still there, “I have to get home.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, gentle but heavy, “You’re lookin’ a little red, Harrington.” Something smooth pressed against this forehead, his vision a little too blurry and unfocused to really see what Billy was doing exactly. “You’re warm.” The silence wasn’t heavy, and when Billy let him ease a bit of his own weight against him, Steve didn’t feel as much in a rush as before anyway. Billy’s finger brushed his jaw, tried not to think to much about it. “If you pay for the toothpaste, I’ll drive you home.”

“Deal.” Steve let Billy take the cart, “The doctors said I shouldn’t drive when it gets like this anyway.” Billy’s arm wrapped around his waist and then moved up to his upper back.

“Oh yeah?”

Steve glared at the soup cans, “The cafeteria lights trigger them the most.” He turned his head towards Billy once they reached the end of a line. “I have a study hall fifth period, the sunlight when they open the windows reflects off of the tables and walls. I have light sensitive eyes now. I had to get more pain relief.”

Billy looked over hastily, eyes slightly bigger, “Now?”

Steve looked away from the magazine display, “Now, what?”

Billy had a reflection of fear along his brow, “When did they start, Steve?”

Oh.

“It’s been a while,” he answered. The hand on his shoulder moved around, spread its warmth and made it so they were closer together. The pain subsided, if only a smidge.

“I’m sorry.”

He stepped on Billy’s foot purposefully, “We’ve done this already, Hargrove.”

“But—”

“You are not the sole reason—”

“You were at the hospital, weren’t you? Wheeler and Byers ment—”

Steve stepped on his foot again, harsh enough that Billy sucked in a breath, “Don’t interrupt me.”

Billy gaped, Steve become sidetracked with his freckles. “You started it!”

Before he could lift his foot again for another attack, the line moved forward.

—

Billy had one hand on the wheel and the other around Steve’s wrist, feeling out the pulse.

“I’m fine, William.”

“Stephen.”

He closed his eyes, discontent, “You did my yard work for a week.”

Billy leaned more towards the steering wheel, “So?”

“You gave the kids free swim passes. And. You’re still helping me with, like, more than half of my classes. For free.”

Billy nodded, “Monday’s and Thursday’s.” He nodded, “Which you missed this week, because of me.”

“No—”

“You were never hospitalized for you headaches before that night, Harrington.”

Steve slid his arm and gripped Billy’s hand in order to do the same with his attention, “My head started getting fucked up the day a got a beating from Jonathan Byers.” Billy scowled. “And you know what?” just a hint of a smile peaked through Steve’s lips. Billy glanced over with distaste. “I deserved it and I don’t blame him for it.” Billy’s hand went limp in his own. Heavier. “And I don’t blame you anymore. You help me remember my schedule and locker combination. You let me have your orange slices at lunch because you know they’re the only fruit I’ll eat besides strawberries.” Billy’s eyes were glassy as he pulled into the driveway. “And guess what?”

Billy wouldn’t look at him, “What?”

“It’s panini night, Mom got the prosciutto and salami.”

Billy considered it and then started hurriedly out of the car “You can carry one bag, Harrington, any more and I’ll kiss you.”

“What kind of threat is that?”

—

It had been tomato soup, by the way.

[jingerhead]

9 has to be an Aaron ship 😂

I'll let you choose your preferred giggle victim 😂

Oh my god that's literally perfect, I hope that you enjoy this I spent so long trying to find a joke SJSJ. Also I don't know how proper medical procedures at an urgent care works and its been years since I've been to one so let's just go with this

9: "So what brings you to the ER today?" well I laughed so hard at my own joke I passed out and hit my head? "oh my god" I know 

It was six in the afternoon and Aaron was tired, sore, hungry, and on his third Starbucks triple shot expresso. It felt like he'd only had eight hours of sleep the entire week, and he was reaching his limit. At least he had tomorrow off, but he had three tests to study for and a paper to write, so it wasn't like he could spend the day catching up on lost sleep. Should've been a professor, he thought for the fifth time that day, which was probably a sign he should go to sleep soon.

Just one more hour to go. One more hour and then he'd be free from the Urgent Care clinic he worked at and could take the bus back to his dorm room, where he'd inevitably pass out upon arrival.

Hopefully, this person he was about to asses would be the last person he'd talk to for the night. All he had to do was listen to them describe their symptoms and assist the doctor and then he could finally be reunited with his mattress. He glanced over the sheet of paper on the clipboard he'd been given, reading over all the information the patient had listed. His eyes got stuck on 'head injury?'

Great, just great.

He walked to the door that led to the waiting room and pushed it open. "Katelyn Greene?" he called.

A girl sitting in the chairs near the windows stood up. She had someone with her that remained in the waiting room as she walked towards Aaron, thankfully looking like she did so with no problem. It wasn't until she stopped right in front of him, waiting for him to direct her, that Aaron realized this was a girl from his Anatomy class the year before.

Shit. Apparently he still thought she was hot. Did she remember him? No, no, Aaron you're a professional and you can do your job. No matter how much the sleep depravation is getting to you. Do not ask her if she remembers you.

He managed to get through introductions as he directed Katelyn to the right room, telling her to sit down. The paper laid down on the bed crinkled as she did so. Aaron tried not to look at her out of the corners of his eyes and he focused on logging into the computer in the room, starting to log the information needed.

"Okay, tell me why you're here today," he finally said, managing to look Katelyn in the eyes. Her eyes were brown and they looked like they glowed in the fluorescent lights -

Yeah, he needed a nap. Preferably forever.

"Promise not to laugh?" Katelyn began, which was never a good sign. Aaron nodded anyway. "Okay, so I was showering - "

Oh, great, another thing for him to think about -

" - and I just remembered this meme, it's really dumb, but it's literally just a water bottle with 'enslaved moisture' around it." She was avoiding eye contact now, but her lips were pressed together firmly as though she was about to start laughing. "So I cupped some water in my hands and said 'you're free!' to the water and then laughed so hard I slipped, hit my head, and passed out."

Aaron blinked once. "You..."

"You promised you wouldn't laugh," Katelyn said with a pout.

God, she was really cute. Aaron couldn't believe he was going to find her on Monday and ask for her number - no, no, she might have a concussion, check for that first you idiot!

"I'm not laughing," Aaron pointed out, but he was definitely smiling. Maybe it was the sleep depravation, but it actually was funny. "You - " It took a lot of self control to keep from laughing, but then Katelyn started laughing, and the two of them were stuck uncontrollably giggling for thirty seconds. Every time they made eye contact they just started laughing again.

Aaron really needed a nap.

"You might have a concussion" he finally managed to say, getting out of his seat.

"You're really cute," Katelyn suddenly blurted when Aaron got close.

"Yeah, let's check for that concussion."

[cosmicclownboy]

hi- why don't you like Maria?

Oh lord.

Where do I even begin with Maria.

Season 1

Makes a joke about Alex's secret relationship being with Wyatt and finding it funny- (Wyatt who is an abusive racist dude who commits hate crimes and bear in mind she knows Alex was abused for being gay) IT'S GROSS.

Speaks about Alex's secret relationship guy being his home to Alex and literally feels his hopefulness because it is part of her alien ability and continues to pursue Michael in s2.

Maria (straight) outs Michael to Liz. That's not okay on any level.

When Liz tells Maria to speak to Alex before doing anything she ignores the advice and does what she wants.

She's really smug about Michael picking/pursuing her like she won.

Season 2

Pursues Michael at a funeral in front of Alex without talking to him.

Makes Michael's loved ones husband funeral about a relationship status

Slut shames a random woman who makes out with Michael when they were never exclusive

Enters a relationship with Michael where he has to be exclusive but she doesn't because she doesn't believe he could be faithful. That's reeks of harmful biphobia stereotypes.

Ignores Alex the whole time UNTIL she needs something.

When she appears at Alex's door she says they are even. AKA comparing Alex not telling her a secret that wasn't his to share to her pursuing the love of his life in front of him without any empathy and ignoring the whole time.

Bitches to Alex about Liz and wanting fuck all to do with her. Alex has to remind her Liz has a dead boyfriend and is struggling cause Maria only has Maria vision and lacks empathy for her 'best friends'.

Uses her mom's laptop to get the scope on Alex/Michael's relationship which reads 100% manipulative. She even says Michael is pushing you away and then proceeds to encourage the narrative where Michael pushes Alex away because she suddenly wants Michael. And of course Alex is supportive she recognises he lacks self worth and rolls over him.

Beginning of 2x06 she tries to set up Forlex to get Alex away from Michael. Once again manipulative.

Tries to make Alex feel guilty for being gay in 206 because when she was a kid she idealised being with him and had to come up with a whole new plan. He grew up in an abusive household you know that....It's not okay to say that. You know how much internalised homophobia he has.

When saying he's had good relationships provides only examples of relationships with women......................HE IS GAY.

Asks him if he would change being gay.......jfc.

Alex tearfully saying he dissociates with women because he clearly forced himself to out of internalised phobia, Maria takes it to mean she has a chance. She thinks she's the exception since a touch starved abuse victim liked to be touched by her in high school. That doesn't = consent.

When Alex, a whole ass Airforce Captain tells her it's unsafe to stay at the creepo's place she acts all I am feminist about it and this results in Alex being stabbed and Michael getting whacked on the head.

Earlier in the episode she whinges to Alex about Michael kissing another woman in front of her and how cruel it was and then proceeds to kiss Michael in front of Alex KNOWING how he feels for Michael.

In THAT scene it's clear she notices Michael's emotions towards Alex and is insecure about it. She uses Malex's feelings for each other to her advantage. She's chasing the fantasy of getting with Alex. These are two highly traumatised queer men who struggle to say no because they spent their lives in abusive environments.

Neither Michael or Alex were in a position to consent to sex that night Michael is concussed from a whack on the head . Alex has lost a lot of blood and is completely out of it. And neither would ever initiate that situation. Not to mention the assumption Michael would be down because he's bi is so harmful as a stereotype.

"I think she’s cool with her decision. She wanted some answers, so subconsciously there was an emotional comfort she needed. But she also had a little bit of an agenda. She needed some decisions made about the status of their relationships, so she thought, “Let’s throw everything against the wall and see where it lands.” I think she was just wondering if they made any progress on that front. She said it was OK for their feelings to be out in the open, but let’s just voice them for what they are. As we saw, Michael stepped up and was like, “No, I still love you and I’m with you.” Secretly, that’s what Maria was hoping for. By suggesting a threesome, she’s was basically telling Michael, “Make your choice… and I hope it’s me.” this is what Heather said about the scene. So not only was it coercive and such but she used her best friend like that with no care or empathy whatsoever. It's disgraceful.

The next day both Michael and Alex are confused by what the fuck happened. Alex due to his C-PTSD completely dissociates from the situation and Michael attempts to laugh it off despite him being hella confused. The only person who isn't confused is Maria who is listening to them from inside.

When Michael comes in she turns on the tears just in case he does want Alex afterwards. Bear in mind she is a psychic who can feel everything and she assumed Michael was going to go after Alex. Doesn't that say it all. SHE KNOWS MICHAEL IS IN LOVE WITH ALEX AND VICE VERSA. She does not care, because at the end of the day this is what she wants. She wants to win. She wants to treat Michael like this trophy that she can show off to people I got the great Michael Guerin not a relationship guy to date me.

When Michael wants to have emotional conversations she shuts it down for sex. The entirety of the relationship it has to be her way or the high way. She also recognises fairly on his abandonment issues and plays upon it, reads manipulative.

When Michael who has lost his mom and brother in the span of a few months asks Maria to be more careful about her abilities she doesn't listen. And ultimately breaks up with Michael when she can't get what she wants from him which is a yes man who will do what she says and isn't the idealised Michael she wants.

Season 3

Shits on Michael any chance she gets. She's so mean to him and he goes out of his way to look out for her.

Is dismissive of her own health despite the fact that everybody goes out of their way to help her. Liz is in California working on a way to help her. Kyle is risking his job.etc

Is fine with Liz, her best friend losing the love of her life to get a vision to prevent a murder. A vision she's only invested in because apparently in it she blames herself.

Is fine with Max or Kyle dealing with the guilt of her death had Michael not saved her.

Shoves Michael and belittles him because he's stronger then her. Infers he just sits on his ass and does nothing therefore does not care about anything....rude. There's also a weird superiority complex that her power is more important then Michaels or any of pod squad for that matter.

Creates a situation that is so bad that Kyle risks his doctors licence to give her adrenaline. Just take an ice bath or something there are a 1000 ways to give yourself adrenaline without risking your life and risking others.

Doesn't thank or acknowledge what Liz is doing for her honey has spent a FULL YEAR of her life trying to help and your just like yeah I'll let her soulmate die for my visions.

Emotionally guilts Isobel for not hanging out with her despite the fact she's hated her for two seasons and now has just randomly decided she wants to know......okay

This idea that Maria is suddenly lonely when she's the second of the main cast (first being Kyle) to have scenes with all the mains by Monday. Literally everyone is there at her beck and call but Maria is lonely??? IT DOESN'T ADD UP. Everyone's up her arse 9/10 how is she lonely everyone expresses concern and care for her ALL THE DAMN TIME. She's also narratively never had scenes that give the connotation that she is lonely. Michael has scenes that connotate he is lonely. Max and Alex do too. Maria has yet to have scenes that give the connotation of feeling lonely or depressed.

Maria comparing the alien siblings to her and feeling left out when she acts superior to them and they are literally siblings. Literally every character is somewhat left out with Pod Squad they've lived their lives assuming it's just them three against the world it's not a personal attack.

Maria is 1/8 alien at best so diluted genetically it doesn't show up and somehow she believes she has the capability of the aliens who are 100%. Say you have French DNA you don't expect to speak French suddenly.

This whole Maria never does wrong narrative and it's empowering that she's doing all of this just feels like a crock of shit tbh.

She reads like a 2000's movie mean girl.

All of my bullet points are why I don't like h Maria and it's not biased because I'm a so and so fan. Narratively she just wins up doing shitty things to Michael and Alex the most.

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[toosicktoocare]

AU where the Avengers don’t know that Spider-Man is Peter Parker just cuz

inspired by a fantastic ask about concussions from @carley-carley-carley (hope it’s okay that I tagged you!)

“Young man? Young man, are you alright?” 

Grunting, Peter drags his head away from the insistent tapping against his cheek, an almost rhythmic, steady pressure that jerks up his temple to spread across his forehead. The pressure isolates to the base of his skull, where the pounding seems to be at it’s worst, and it holds ground there, pulsing uncomfortably. 

“Young man, you fell from a four-story apartment building.” 

Peter’s brows furrow at this. He wants to object because he’s Spider-Man, and a fall like that is minor compared to the novel of inuries he’s suffered alongside the Avengers. He opens his mouth to do just that, to explain to this woman that this is nothing, that he’ll walk it off, but a pricking senstation hot against the back of his neck hotwires to his eyelids, forcing them open. 

He’s aware of two things: One, the woman leaning over him is far too close, and she’s doubling and tripling before him, going in out of focus against his blurry eyes. Despite hazy around the edges, she looks concerned, if the deep-set wrinkles etched into her forehead are anything to go by. Two, there’s a small crowd surrounding him, and while Peter’s not particularly claustrophobic, right now, it feels like each body is pushing against his lungs, and his stomach. When the hell did he start feeling so nauseous? 

“Young man, do you know what day it is?” 

No, Peter thinks flatly to himself. He really doesn’t. He could dig through his mind, eager to push out logic, work through his mental calendar that operates soley around when homework assignments are due, but there’s a solid rock of pulsing pain blocking all normal, brain functioning. “Monday?” he tries weakly. He’s faintly aware that his own voice sounds hollow and distant, but more so, he’s distinctly aware of the saliva pooling in his mouth, a copper taste that coats against his tongue. 

Peter didn’t think it was possible, but the woman somehow frowns deeper at him, and she climbs to her feet, body rigid. He supposes it’s not Monday after all. 

“Call an ambulance! He’s concussed.” 

Peter shoots forward into a sitting position, and the pain in his head bursts like a balloon. The redistributed pressure is blinding, and Peter drops his face into his cupped hands with a low groan that threatens to bring more than just air up his throat. 

He wants to assure them that a hospital isn’t necessary, that his enhanced healing defies medical science, but when the white light coating his vision dies down to an unsteady sway of darker, blurring colors, he only sees scraped up palms before him, not gloves. He rips his hands away, and one, quick look down shows that he’s sporting a blue NASA hoodie and blue jeans and that he’s definitely not wearing his signature red and blue Spider-Man suit he thought he had on. 

The hell? 

He glances to see his backpack beside him, thankfully still zipped up and intact. He tries to wrack his brain, briefly craning his neck up toward the rooftop he assumes he fell from, only to quickly jerk his gaze back down when the setting sun seems to shine past his eyes to burn at his skull. He can’t remember why he was up there in the first place, especially since he’s in civilian clothing. He can’t remember much of anything, now that he dwells on it. 

“Young man, by all accounts, you should be dead.” 

Peter makes to reply, his clenched jaw unhinging almost painfully, but a different, probing jolt sparks up his spine to the back of his neck, and he’s climbing to his feet, pale, wobbly, just as two, new voices somehow carry over the wall of chatter around him. 

“What’s going on?”

“Make way. Crowds typically mean one of two things: some weird alien contraption that equals bad news or a dead body, either of which I can’t really fit into today’s schedule.”

Even if Peter didn’t have the two voices memorized, down to the timbre, the sudden, loud squealing from the crowd of “Tony Stark!” and “Captain America!” is enough to have him eyeing for a quick exit, determining if he can duck his way through the pressing bodies. 

“This young man fell from the roof!” 

“So,” Tony draws out, his voice growing closer. “Dead body it...” He trails off as he nudges around a few people until he’s breaking into the center of the circle with Steve hot on his heels. 

“Well, hello there, not dead person.” 

Peter wants to shrink away from Tony’s gaze. He wants the ground to crumble and break and swallow him hole, to rid himself of the awkward fear and warm embarrasment that flushes his cheeks. He can feel a thick, lukewarm liquid dripping down his neck, and he doesn’t want to look down to see the concerning pool of blood at his feet. 

“Son, are you alright?” Steve shoves forward, and on instinct, Peter backs away and brings a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous tick, but he pulls it back almost immediately, faintly frowning at the splattered red coloring his palm. 

“You fell,” Tony starts, and Peter knows this tone well as it’s Tony’s signature speculation tone, where he dissects the situation around clipped, short sentences. 

“From up there?” 

Leveling his gaze, Peter huffs out a shaky sigh, wincing slightly as Steve prods lightly at the back of his head. 

“Um, yeah. I guess?” 

“You guess?” 

“I don’t really remember,” Peter laughs awkwardly, clears his throat. He can sense the tension that builds behind him, can almost feel the way Steve’s muslces grow rigid. 

“He’s concussed, Tony. Maybe save the interrogation for another time?” 

“Sure,” Tony says, and he steps forward, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood. “But, you can’t blame me for finding this entire situation unsettling, Steve. This kid fell from the roof of a four-story building, landed on his back, and now he’s standing, and aside from the fact that he looks a tad worse for wear, he’s alive?” 

“I’m right here,” Peter mutters under his breath, and Tony nods and crowds too close to him. 

“You are. Standing. Speaking. Alive. Three things that don’t exactly pair well with falling off a roof.” 

Peter’s head hurts, bad. Deflect, he thinks. But how? “I’ve always been told I come from a family of hard heads,” he mumbles around a hollow laugh, and, he thinks, it definitely sounds as stupid out loud as it did in his head. 

Tony’s gaze, in response, his sharp, and narrow, and Peter unconsciously closes his eyes. He can feel the ground rippling below his feet, and he sways, steadying only when Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

“Enough, Tony.” 

“How much would it take to get you to come back to our labs so I can run some tests-”

“-Enough, Tony.”

Steve’s voice vibrates all across Peter’s body. It’s a powerful yet familiar feeling that makes him shudder slightly. 

“What’s your name, son?” 

Peter contemplates lying, maybe even using Ned’s name. But, he’s been careful as Spider-Man thus far, so, he thinks, he’s not at risk by sharing his real name. Besides, it’s not like it’s uncommon. “Peter,” he says after a moment. 

He could hear Steve talking beside him, but an unannounced rush of blood in his ears begisn to drown out close sounds. He grows hot suddenly, or maybe, he’s been getting steadily hotter this entire time and he couldn’t fully realize. His body’s shaking a little harder now, inconsistent trembles jerking his limbs. His throat’s tightening, and when he realizes what the hell is happening, he’s shoving away from Steve and hunching over to vomit. 

He feels worse when he finishes. He’s exhausted, and his head is positively throbbing. Yet, there’s a color of clarity flicking across his mind. Through the thick pain, he can think a little clearer, see a little clearer. 

“Peter?” 

“Gross, kid. Time to go to the hospital.” 

“No!” Peter whips around, staggers, and unconsciously reaches out to Steve’s arm for support. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” he clarifies at the two, wide expressions looking at him expectantly. “Really. I’m already feeling better.” To punctuate his point, he lets go of Steve’s arm and bends down to snag his backpack, clutching it close to his chest. “See, totally fine. No passing out or anything.” 

On the back of his head, he can already feel his broken skin moving, closing torn gaps, slowing the bloodflow. He figures he’s got about an hour until it’s completely healed, and he’d rather not be around two Avengers when it happens. 

“I’ll just go home and... rest! I’ll rest. Scout’s honor.” He mock salutes, and then he spins on his heel and starts pushing his way out of the crowd, missing the furrowed gaze from Tony. He swallows thickly when he hears two sets of heavy footsteps behind him. 

“Peter, wait!”

“I’m with Steve on this one, kid. I can’t, in good conscience, let you disappear in this condition. I can see the headlines now. Iron Man Abandons Helpless Teen.” 

“Tony...”

Peter keeps walking ahead, keeps his gaze locked to the sidewalk below him as Tony and Steve take either side of him. “My apartment’s just a few blocks from here,” he mumbles, focusing on the rhythmic pound of his shoes on concrete and not on the hot pain pushing all across his head or on the fact that he can’t shake a couple of Avengers, something he’d never consider as Spider-Man. 

“Do you not like hospitals, Peter?” 

Steve’s question is a gentle prod, and Peter goes with it, shrugging. 

“Not really,” he offers, keeping his voice low, indicating he doesn’t want to pursue the conversation, and luckily, Steve takes the bait and drops it. At least, Peter thinks, they’ll stop insisting he seek out medical assistance now. Though, he does feel a little bad lying to Steve; he doesn’t like lying, unless it’s to egg on Tony’s nerves as Spider-Man. But to Steve? It feels morally wrong, and he thinks he should seek out a confessional for his sins later. 

“Not interested in having a bunch of doctors deem you a medical miracle?” 

“Definitely not,” Peter groans, finally dragging his gaze up until he’s looking forward and not at the scuff marks on his shoes. His memories, though fuzzy, are filtering through cracks in the thick mud that’s currently his mind. He can remember standing atop the roof, maybe a little too close to the edge. He was getting ready to rip open his backpack for his suit, and then he remembers losing his footing. He remembers the back of his foot hitting the edge of the roof, and everything goes dark after that. 

Embarrassing, he thinks. He’s the only super hero he knows clumsier than a newborn deer. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s reached his apartment until his leg muscles are dragging to a stop on habit. He looks up, craning his neck, and sighs. “Well, this is me. I appreciate the escort, but I’m good now.” He starts up the steps, sighing louder when he hears the two follow. 

He makes it all the way up the steps to his apartment door and unlocks it before he spins on his heel, a second, longer sigh pushing past his lips. “Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but don’t you both have... bigger things to do? Iron Man and Captain America things?” 

“You busy, Steve?” Tony asks, and Steve mutely shakes his head before following Tony into the apartment. 

Groaning, Peter rubs at his forehead and shuffles inside, knowing full and well that both are incredibly busy on an hour-to-hour basis. He’s quick to slip his bacpack into his bedroom and close the door before he steps back out into the living room to see Steve motioning toward the couch with a pack of frozen peas in hand. 

“It’s all you had.” 

Shrugging, Peter drops down flat onto the couch, sitting up briefly so Steve can slip the bag of frozen peas behind his head. He shivers on contact because shit, it’s freezing, and Steve’s reaching over him to snag the blanket draped behind the couch. He hums absently when Steve tucks it around him, and then he cracks an eye open to see Tony staring down childhood pictures with a familair set of glasses on. 

“Mr. Stark?” 

“Huh?” Tony whips around, already plucking the glasses from his face. 

“Really, Tony? How much info is FRIDAY feeding you right now?” 

“What?” Tony drags out, both hands raised in defense. “Kid fell off a roof and walked away. Sue me.” 

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I’m not even remotely interesting,” Peter tries, and Tony raises a single brow his way. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” 

Peter’s kept his identity tightly under wraps thus far, and he knows childhood pictures or pictures with May aren’t going to reveal that he’s Spider-Man. Still, it’s annoyingly intrusive, and he sits up with a groan. 

“If I swear on my best friend’s lego model death star that I’ll stay put, rest, and wake up every few hours to monitor my condition, will you both please leave? You really don’t need to hang around here; I know you both have to be really busy.” 

“Your best friend has a lego model death star?” Tony starts, isolating that one fact. “Is your best friend in second grade?” 

Peter clambers to his feet, stalks over to his door, and yanks it open. “We’re the same age, and I happily helped him with it,” he challenges, motioning toward the doorway. 

“Easy, champ,” Tony says around a laugh as he and Steve start toward the door. “If you and your friend want to play with legos, that’s none of my business. Just try not to fall off any more roofs because, unfortunately, that is my business.” 

“Yes, sir,” Peter says, offering a nod as the two step out. 

“Consider going to a hospital, Peter,” Steve adds. “Maybe take your friend with you for comfort.” 

Yeah right, Peter thinks. Ned can’t even handle the thought of a needle without feeling faint. Still, he nods, if only to appease Steve, and then he’s closing the door and sinking against it with a low sigh. He listens for a long time until he can no longer make out their footsteps, and then he’s ignoring the pressure in his head and running to his room to don his suit. 

Concussion or not, Queens still needs the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.