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chaoticwhoknows · 1 year
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do you guys ever think about jamie tartt and sam obisanya bc i do. constantly. they take up so much room in my brain. going from “no one in my entire career had made me feel worse about myself than jamie did” to sam and jamie being comfortable enough to constantly tease each other like siblings and swarm each other during goal celebrations and SAM being one of the first people (along with roy) who we see being concerned about jamie in mom city. JAMIE WEARING SAM’S NUMBER WHEN HE PLAYED FOR ENGLAND. season 3 jamie and sam are so… just so… they’re soooooooo!!! and season 2 jamie and sam are like hey what if i reached out to you through a series of seemingly small gestures in very vulnerable moments of yours bc i don’t know how to properly show that i care about you given the history between us until eventually we were just completely in sync with each other? what then?
and don’t even get me started on the parallels between them. ladies and gentlemen THE PARALLELS. the JUXTAPOSITIONS. the OTHER WORDS. their relationships with their fathers alone is so much to unpack. them cutting to JAMIE’S reaction when ola walked in and hugged sam in the locker room separately from the reaction of the rest of the team. the creators knew what they were doing with that
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muirneach · 2 months
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yeah prev kinda fucked me up ngl. read it and was uncharacteristically like damn that sucks anyways back to scrolling. but then i dropped my phone on the table and stared into space for ten minutes there. i dont know man. i guess my secret dream of being the first tboy in the atp kinda took that one personally. not that this is about Me when this is about andrey being lowkey a horrible person. hes sucked for a while but now its just like. yeah okay fuck off man…
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wingedalpacawinner · 3 months
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v-carecustomers · 6 months
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privatecarecenter · 2 years
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die4girl · 1 month
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Little girl ❤️‍🔥
Summary: You have loved Lewis ever since you were a little girl. Lewis was the perfect gentleman, and you swore you would work your way up to be with him one day. But when you do, something about him makes you nervous. And something about you that he wants to ruin.
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When your parents bought you tickets for the Abu Dabi grand prix on your 16th birthday you couldn’t sleep for days, excitement and anticipation for being in the same vicinity as Lewis. When you found your seats amongst the crowd, you immedielty searched for Lewis’s Mercedes car which you spotted it in line up. The signature electric blue a stark contrast against the backdrop of Dubai’s city scape. When he won, miles infront of the others, it was as if all of Dubai cheered for his victory.
“LEWIS LEWIS” you yelled desperately as he walked out of his car to wave at his fans. You were shorter than other girls your age and you fought to not get pushed and shoved by other fans. You felt yourself drowning in the crowd when someone firmly yet gently grabbed your hand and you regained your balance. “Cant have you getting lost can we” Lewis said as he pulled the Mercedes hat you were wearing off your head, and scribbled his name across it. He placed it back in your head with a gentle pat, “thanks for your support love” he said in his British accent, voice soft as he smiled down at you. You swear you stopped breathing as the girls around you shot you dirty looks, but you diddnt care. All you cared about was Lewis.
You clutched your signed Mercedes hat close to your chest when you arrived at your hotel room that night, replaying how it felt have Lewis’s eyes on you- if only for a second.
5 years later
You were seated in Toto Wolf's office as you fixed your hair and reapplied your lip gloss for the 5th time that morning. Your whole morning was done under autopilot; you let your dark hair down and popped in your signature gold hoops, which paired nicely with your brown skin. After intense contemplation, you decided to wear a pair of low-rise jeans (okay, y2K baddie) and a fitted shirt - opting for a Bratz doll, I guess??
You yawned, suddenly regretting staying up late last night. You couldn’t help but fantasize about Lewis. How it would feel to have his finger buried in you and hear him groan and moan in your ear- your thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Toto pushed open the door to the room, “Y/n, are you ready?” He asked with an excited smile. You flushed, pushing those thoughts out of your mind as you got up.
As Toto led the way to the conference room, he was going on about how beautiful the Monaco weather is and how much you will love it here. After a few minutes of walking, you and Toto finally arrived at a set of double doors, which you assumed belonged to the conference room. “They’re all excited to meet you, y/n,” Toto whispers as he dramatically opens the doors.
Excited chatter traveled around the room as you stood next to Toto. But all you could focus on was one person. You surveyed the room, management members, engineers, trainers… your eyes locked on Lewis.
Besides the sparkly studs adorning his ears, Lewis was dressed plainly today. A white shirt and loose black pants. But god, he looked good; he always looked good. You could feel your face heating as he met your gaze.
You were pulled from your thoughts when Toto cleared his throat, and the room quieted, “so, as you know, we have been looking for another driver, and I admit I kept my contenders a secret from you. Only a few members knew we were broadening our horizon to a female driver for the first time.” Anticipating faces switched between you and Toto as they began piecing two and two together.
“Y/n has been showing exceptional talent in F2, and what better way to bring Mercedes back in headlines, after Chris keeps stealing my thunder ( he added under his breath), is to hire the first ever woman in F1 who not only competes at the level of men, but I would say better! So, if you haven’t figured it out already, Y/n L/n will be the newest addition to the Mercedes team.”
A beat of silence fell, and you held your breath at the possibility of being rejected by the team. Claps erupted from around the room as people got up to greet you and shake your hand. Your shoulders shagged in relief, and you thanked Toto for being so kind in your introduction. When you spotted Lewis again, you were taken aback. He had a slight smirk, and his eyes simmered with something dark. As quickly as it came, it was gone in a flash, replaced by the usual soft and gentlemanly demeanor everyone knew.
You focused your attention back on the lady who was shaking your hand repeatedly, “Y/n, how lovely for you to join us; I’ll be doing your fittings for your racing suit” - she was suddenly interrupted by a smiling Lewis, “Sorry to interrupt Lisa,” he flashed a sweet smile, and Lisa walked off after blushing and stuttering an apology.
“Tell her to make it tight.”
“What?”
“Your suit. Especially around your chest.”
Your jaw dropped.
He looked down at you and suddenly started to laugh. “ I’m just joking. Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Your heart squeezed at the pet name. Despite your initial shock your eyes quickly filled with adoration as you looked at him, “Y-yes I mean I can do that.” You sounded like a fucking idiot, but Lewis just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He was always so sweet.
“I’ve been a huge fan of you since I was a little girl. It’s been my dream to compete alongside you.” You left out how you had a lot of other ‘dreams’ about him.
Lewis looked amused as he bent down to your ear, his hand on your waist, and whispered, “You’re still a little girl, Y/n.” With that, he turned and left the room, leaving behind the faint scent of pine and mint and the warmth of his hand resting on your waist.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Toto came to introduce you to more team members, but all you could think about were Lewis’s words. Was he trying to demean you? No, he wouldn’t do that; he's a gentleman- he's Lewis Hamilton.
You will find out soon enough, and after all, you’ll be together for the rest of the year.
AN: surely smut for part 2?? :)
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blush-pedri · 2 months
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winner, winner | f. torres
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summary: the spain national team win the euros and ferran’s girls couldn’t be prouder.
notes: dad!ferran always 😭 a draft from my old accounts i’ve edited to be more fitting. quickly edited. let me know what you think!!! enjoy! <3
“—AND HERE, PRINCESSA, IS WHERE your papi is going to lift the trophy tomorrow.”
his teammates laughed, smiling at the pair as others continued to walk around and inspect the pitch, mentally preparing themselves for the big day ahead.
ferran stood laughing as well, chuckling heartily even with a pink plastic pacifier hanging between his teeth and soft baby blanket in his arms, his entire heart and soul blinking up at him, clueless to his reason for laughter.
tia torres was, and always would be, his greatest prized possession. i mean, he wouldn’t complain if he got a trophy in his arms tomorrow, but no feeling would top the one when he held his baby girl.
she was just about to turn one, starting to crawl and make funny sounds. ferran was adamant to get her to say papi first, he didn't care if she was halfway there to 'mama' with her drawn out 'mmm's', he knew she understood him and wouldn't let him down by saying papi first. everytime he spoke to her, your heart melted. always such a upbeat, soft tone, he spoke nice and clear to her in the hopes she would repeat it back. he was so sweet with her, so in love, and the way she looked at him and smiled when he talked - you knew she was in love with him too.
she came into your lives a little unexpectedly and despite all the worries and anxieties, you didn’t know what you did without her. ferran didn’t know what he did without her. he didn’t know what he did before her. he felt like an entirely different man since tia came into your lives and cringed at the man he was before. he liked the night feeds and the early mornings. he liked the tasting of bad baby food and job of freshening his girl up with a fresh diaper. he liked the challenge of getting her to sleep (which was easy for him than you) and taking her out by himself so you could enjoy some time to yourself.
he took pride in being a ‘young dad’, he didn’t care about going to nightclubs in dubai or festivals in ibiza anymore, he was happy to be at home with his two girls and make many, many memories with the pair of you.
he stood with her in his arms, walking her around the pitch with his barça teammates by his side. tomorrow was the final against england and you’d flown out with your daughter for what you knew would be a historic moment. after all, you wanted to show your support and be there for your boyfriend in time of celebration or comfort.
“just think, hermano, this time tomorrow, we’ll be here, getting ready for kickoff,” pedri’s arms excitedly shook ferran’s shoulders from behind, hyping him up at the thought. bless him, he’d suffered an injury in his leg, but that didn’t stop his excitement for his teammates playing in the final.
tia’s eyes widened in her sleepy state, looking up at her papi who still had her pacifier in his mouth. he moved her around to face him, smiling at pedri’s antics as she stared up at him, reaching for her dummy, but ferran pulled away teasingly, watching her half-amusingly fight for it. the boys smiled at his immaturity, always messing around - even with a one year old. “hermanoo, give her it,” even pedri thought he was cruel, pouting sympathetically at the little girl.
he chuckled as tia’s small smile turned into a frown as she started to whimper frustratedly, and he gave in, letting go of the dummy for her to take back. "'m only joking, mi princessa, te amo mucho," her cheek was quickly smothered by his kisses as she rightfully sucked her dummy into her mouth. he’d never mean to upset his baby girl on purpose.
he continued to carry her around the pitch, bouncing her slightly as he knew she was usually asleep at this time, but her schedule was a little off with the travelling making her miss out her nap and now with ferran begging you to take her to see the stadium, she was behind on getting her final bottle which usually sent her to sleep.
although it looked like she didn’t need a bottle, as her eyes slowly fluttered with each rock of her daddy’s arms, she was content and cozy in his embrace and didn’t care about the big bright lights shining down on her. if she was in her daddy’s arms, she could fall asleep anywhere.
when she woke up again. it was 6:30am. you’d spent the entire day with her in berlin, exploring with ferran’s family while he was with the international team, prepping for the big day. you were nervous since the minute you woke up, wishing and praying things went their way and that ferran and the team got the result they wanted. you just hoped he would be fine no matter the turnout, and that tia would be able to put a smile on his face no matter what. he’d been playing so well and deserved it more than anything.
the next time you were in the stadium, tia was with you, dressed in a mini 11 jersey with papa on the back, she looked around the place she’d been in just the day before.
you were on edge the entire game, unable to take your eyes off the field and when halftime ended with 0-0, your anxieties increased. ferran was on the bench, undoubtedly awaiting a substitute until the game kicked off and not 2 minutes later - spain had the lead.
the stadium roared and you got the first real sense of hope and belief, trying not to jump and yell too much given your baby was still sat on your knee. from your point of view, you tried to point to the players bench where her papi sat, but she was clueless, too many things going on and too much to look at to keep her occupied, she was transfixed on the many different flags and people surrounding her.
when england scored, you were a wreck again, and prepared yourself for pens when m. oyarzabal shot the second goal into the net and all your nerves deflated. there was no coming back now, you had nothing to be afraid of.
the final whistle blew and you couldn’t stop yourself from jumping up, your daughter jumping in your arms, you yelled out with almost tears of happiness as she looked around bewildered. the stadium was thriving, singing and jumping, celebrating their country as fireworks went off. you watched the team take the stage, proudly representing their kit and your heart swelled with pride as your ferran stepped up the stage, shaking the hands of some very important people before his medal was hung deservingly around his neck.
as other families of players made their way to the pitch, you followed in lead, buzzing with excitement as you led you and tia down the steps.
ferran was talking with pedri’s family when he thought he heard you call him. he glanced around and broke out into the biggest smile when he saw you making your way over with your baby girl in your arms. “it’s papiiii!” you bounced her, trying to get her excited, “clap for papi!”
“mi querida!” he nabbed her from your hands and jumped around, kissing her over and over and over again while your heart exploded with joy. you stepped back and took photos as he tossed her in the air, her sweet giggles melting the hearts of anyone around. “we did it! we did it, bebe!”
tia’s hands held her daddy’s face as he held her in the air, grinning down at him, he took her dummy away so he could see those two little bottom teeth smiling at him.
“congrats! mi guapo,” you finally interrupted their moment, feeling left out, you wrapped your arms around your other half and squeezed him tightly. “we are so so so proud of you!”
“hermosa,” he awed, looking at his main girl. his entire world before his mini-me came along. “te amo.” he kissed your lips, and then again and again and again. you wrapped you arm around his neck and hugged your little family, kissing your daughter’s head before she started to feel jealousy again.
“te amo,” you batted your lashes lovingly at him, looking at those beautiful brown eyes you’d fallen in love with before placing a long sweet kiss on his cheek.
“tia!!” pedri’s voice called as he hurried quickly over to the little one. he didn’t know much about babies but one thing was for sure was that she was definitely ferran’s kid. she was just him as a baby with longer lashes and a cuter nose. “hello, cutie,” he tickled her arm with his finger.
she reached for him willingly, smiling at the familiar face and he gladly accepted her embrace, always flattered she would leave her papi for him for a few minutes.
“congratulations!” you sang from ferran’s side, sharing your pride for the boy. you weren’t the only one classed as ferran’s other half – you shared that title with pedri.
“thank you, y/n,” he nodded, his leg brace pulling a little at your heartstrings. you were glad he got to experience the win with the team nonetheless and got the medal he deserved. “campeons!” he sang, raising tia’s arm in the air.
“oh wow! isn’t she gorgeous,” pedri’s mum appeared with the rest of his family, his brother greeting the little baby in his brothers arms.
“thank you,” you smiled, watching them awe over her daughter.
“she gets it from me,” ferran cockily smirked, running his hand over his hair like he was some model which made you laugh. you elbowed his side as pedri handed her back, reaching for the trophy being handed his way.
“take your baby, i need to hold my baby,” he proudly took the award into his hands and began posing with his prized possession, leaving you and ferran to chuckle while he got his photos with his family.
ferran sat on the ground with tia who was infatuated with the confetti (trying to eat fistfuls of it which he had to keep pulling from). he placed the medal around her and took some of his own photos, classing this day as probably one of the best days of his life. here with you and his baby girl, feeling like all his hard work paid off in the moment. “are you proud of papa?”
“of course she is proud of her papa,” you answered for her, “she is proud of her papa every single day. she is proud of you when you manage to open a door, let’s be honest!”
he laughed, flicking more confetti from her hands. “are you? are you proud of your papa?” he looked down at her, mirroring her sitting position with her legs apart and hands inbetween. she looked so tiny across from him. “can you say papa? say papaaa.”
“pa!”
“yes! say papa!”
“pa!!” she repeated, laughing at his pleased reaction.
“yes!”
cameras clicked in your direction as the three of you stood together, tia getting distracted by the medal around her daddy’s neck and inspecting it curiously as the trophy was passed in ferran’s direction.
he posed with the trophy, the proud look on your face only growing before you joined. “wow,” you thought, running your thumb over the engraved title of spain on the silver. you all smiled with it, tia playing with the red and yellow ribbon when ferran lifted her to try and set her in it.
“ferran!” you laughed, watching your baby share a look of confusion and maybe a little discomfort from the cold metal at why her dad had placed her in there. he chuckled and quickly lifted her out, kissing her once more.
“that is getting framed for the living room,” he promised, laughing at the image.
her tiny fits wrapped around his fingers as he stood her up from the ground, keeping her still next to the trophy she was almost the same size as. he kissed it once more before handing it off to his next teammate, happy with his time with it. “my girls,” he smiled, hugging his little one on his left and pulling you into his side on the right. “i wouldn’t be able to do it without you,” he kissed both your heads.
“hmm, you couldn’t have done it without your teammates, more so,” you joked.
he rolled his eyes and shook you playfully, feeling you hand hold his over your shoulder as you began to walk around the pitch, greeting other families and congratulating his teammates. really, it gave ferran an excuse to show off his baby girl to his teammates and show just how cute she was, and how much he looked just like him.
to show off both his girls in general, and how they made him feel like he was a winner every day.
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f0point5 · 5 months
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MAD MAX FIGHT SCENE WHEN?? I have never needed a written piece more than right now
I also reserve the right to imagine Emilia throwing a shoe at someone in this scenario. Idk why i just feel like it could happen. She is not happy about it
MAD MAX FIGHT SCENE NOW!!!
Tell me why this went four different ways before I came to this version. The alternate version took place in a club and had Emilia spraying champagne at a bunch of people but fundamentally it didn’t work as a written piece because you can’t hear what anyone’s saying in a club for shit 😂 No shoe throwing but I hope you like it anyway 😂
Me writing action scenes is like something out of that book After it’s so bad I’m sorry but I hope you got where I’m going 😂
✨set after the Monaco Grand Prix 2018✨
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I don’t regret it one bit, ‘cause he had it coming
Another Monaco GP, another yacht party. You’re not even sure whose yacht it is but you don’t care. During GP weekend, drivers can pretty much walk onto whatever boat they want. You, Max, Clara, and Laurent had wandered onto the biggest boat with people having a party and set about forgetting Max’s nightmare weekend. The party is chaotic, you’re not sure how long whoever is in charge of the marina will let the noise and overcrowding go on, but you’re enjoying the high, four shots down with Max on the upper deck, lazily moving to the music emanating from the DJ playing his set downstairs.
“Where’s Laurent?” Max asks, practically shouting in your ear. He’s tipsy, which he deserves to be, his arm slung over your shoulder as he looks around, jerking your body as he turns. He’s out way too late, you can tell by how his t-shirt is clinging to him, and the fluffy top of his hair has completely broken free of the gel hold. He looks positively feral. You don’t hate it.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you don’t have to shout. “Probably fucking Clara in a bathroom somewhere,”
Max chuckles at that, taking a sip of his Red Bull. He offers it to you but you shake your head.
“I thought you were supposed to be supporting me,” he jokes as you avoid the can.
“Not by rotting my insides,” you tell him, squirming in his hold as he bops to the Dua Lipa remix he’ll pretend he’s never heard before. He manoeuvres you in front of him as if you don’t even have feet, wrapping his arm around your stomach so that you’re still trapped, but comfortable.
“Je bent niet leuk, schatje,” he says into your ear. The air on your neck makes you shiver against him, and he must think you’re cold because he holds you tighter.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you tell him, which makes him smirk. “And I’m not your baby,”
“Ja, maar-“
“Max!”
You twist in Max’s hold when a guy you don’t recognise appears from somewhere in the crowd. Max lets go of you to greet him, and without being entirely engulfed by 80kgs of Red Bull and audacity, you realise you’re parched. You tell Max you’ll be right back and scoot out of reach before he can say anything. You creep through the crowd and then downstairs to where the drinks are without twisting your ankle, which, given how drunk you felt back upstairs, sort of surprises you.
There’s several ice buckets lining the edge of the deck and you peruse the options. You’ve certainly had enough to drink but one more vodka couldn’t hurt. You glance over at the cans of Red Bull and make a note to take one with you as you pick a glass off the table.
“Do you come with the bottles?”
Well, that’s a choice of opening line, talking to a girl like she’s a phone charm.
You turn to see what, not whom, actually felt comfortable saying that out loud and there he was. The epitome of a guy who would say that. He’s older than you, maybe mid to late 20s, all tan and tight jeans, dark hair cut in a fade, gold watch that could be seen from space and those Louboutin loafers. His cologne smells like Dubai.
You look him up and down very slowly and deliberately. “Not if you’re buying them,” you say, turning back to the ice bucket.
“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” his voice is closer now, almost in your ear. You turn only slightly and find his face already next to yours. ”Come have a drink over here,” he nods over to a seating area where a few guys sit with girls that look too young to be there.
You know the type - down on a girls trip for the weekend with only party outfits in their bags, they’d likely hung around the marina until the pack of jackals had brought them here to ply them with alcohol they didn’t have to pay for. You’re half offended that this guy thought you’d be anywhere near that easy.
“I’ve got enough, thanks.” You say, firmer this time, as you give up on the vodka and just grab one of the many bottles of champagne in the ice bucket. When you turn to leave, you practically collide with the hunk of meat now towering over you.
“Who do I have to speak to to get you to come have a drink with me?” He asks, as if that’s meant to be sexy.
You roll your eyes. “Your hairdresser.”
“Come on, just one drink. I’ll make it worth your while,” he says, his eyes glancing down. You follow his gaze, already steeling yourself for some vulgar gesture, but he pulls out the edge of his wallet from his jeans.
You roll your eyes again. “I’m not pay for play. Now leave me alone.”
You step around him this time, starting to make your way back towards the stairs when this experiment in protein shake consumption blocks your way. You almost trip trying not to crash into him, not that he would have minded if the way he leans into you Is any indication.
“Look, I’m not some nobody, baby, I’ve got real fucking money. I’m what all you pretty girls come out here in your skimpy dresses for,” he says, the noxious smell of chemicals and tequila almost making your eyes water. What makes you feel sick is the way he uses his height advantage to look down your dress. “So have a drink with me. It’ll be fun, I promise,”
Only now does he employ an actual smile, the kind that you’d never want to be in a room alone with. Suddenly, you don’t feel like making any more jokes, you just want to get as far away from this guy as possible. Turning on your heels, you figure you’ll double back around the deck, but a hand tight on your wrist stops you in your tracks.
“Don’t walk away from me,” the words are growled, and you feel your pulse spike. Now you’re scared, but showing it will get you nowhere.
“Get off me,” you snap, trying to shake the giant cretin off you without causing a scene. He doesn’t let go and you’re just about to bottle him over the head when you hear Max’s voice.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Max strides towards you, looking as angry as you’ve ever seen him. He must have been watching from up by the railings of the top deck.
“Oh, here we go,” the guy grumbles, rolling his eyes as he looks at Max. You take the opportunity to wrench your arm free of him. “Don’t worry, bro. You can have her back when I’m finished with her,”
“You arrogant piece of shit,” you snarl at the guy, almost taking a step towards him before thinking better of it.
“Watch your mouth,” he snaps back, pointing a finger at you. “Your ass isn’t that nice,”
“The fuck did you just say?” Max yells over the music. He guides you behind him effortlessly and you don’t argue, though you do keep hold of his arm.
“You heard me, you prick,” the douchebag says, flashing Max a cocky grin. That won’t go down well.
You pull on Max’s arm. You can tell from the set of his shoulders that this is getting out of hand.
“Max, leave it,” you tell him, pulling him again, and this time he listens, sighing and shaking his head. He knows he has to let it go.
“Jesus,” the arrogant pig sneers, and you cringe. “Has this bitch got a magic pussy or something?”
You don’t even have a chance against Max’s reaction speed. He’s moving before your eyes can even follow, shoving the guy backwards so quickly that the drunkard stumbles slightly, but not as much as you thought he would.
“Shut the fuck up,” Max growls at him.
Dickhead doesn’t take this well, shoving Max back. You’re too scared to get in the middle now. People are starting to stare, a couple of them even have their phones out.
“Max,” it’s more of a plea than anything. “Stop it,”
You know Max isn’t going to just drop it. He doesn’t know how to walk away from a fight, it’s just that normally his fighting involves being protected by a ton of carbon fibre, not that he thinks he needs it.
“You don’t want to mess with me, man,” the guy shouts, looking over Max’s shoulder to glare at you. “Certainly not over some dirty yacht slut,”
Once again, you’re no match for Max’s reaction speed. You don’t see his arm move. You’re barely able to process his fist connecting with the guy’s face. You just see Dickhead fly backwards clutching his jaw as he tumbles to the ground.
“Max!” You scream, but this time he totally ignores you.
“Fucking pussy,” he yells, at the same volume but now that the music has been turned down so that everyone can pay attention to the spectacle, it feels like the whole marina can hear him.
He steps towards the disoriented drunkard on the floor and this time you manage to catch up with him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him backwards.
“Max, come on,”
He’s fighting it a little, and you press your nails into his skin as you fight harder, dragging him away from where Douchebag’s friends have swarmed around him trying to help. You know they’re looking in your direction but you ignore them and you’re hoping Max does, too.
He turns to look at you and it’s like barely recognises you, his face is flushed and his pupils are dilated and you don’t entirely recognise him either. It knocks the wind out of you, and for just a second you swear everything stops, even your heartbeat.
“You’re okay?” Max asks you, through frenzied breathing.
Your mouth is dry but you speak anyway. “I’m fine.” You don’t know if you’re lying. “Let’s just go,”
You don’t give him time to argue, and it seems he’s calmed down enough to realise now is a good time to cut your losses, because he follows you without complaint.
You don’t let go of him until you’re on the concrete pathway up towards the stairs that have street access. More accurately, that’s when you become aware that you’re still holding onto him. When two toasted revellers try to walk between you but can’t, and shout something at you in Spanish for walking too slow. You let go of Max but he still doesn’t say anything. You keep stealing glances at him as you walk. His shoulders are still tight, his jaw is clenched. His hands are clenched into fists at his side. He still looks livid. That’s why you’re nervous, that’s why you can’t catch your breath, that’s why it’s hard to look away from him. You’re worried about him.
“Well, that was stupid,” you say with a sigh, once you’re sure your words won’t come out as some kind of breathy invocation of a worse kind of chaos than anything you’ve already been involved in tonight.
“That guy was stupid,” Max shoots back, grinding his teeth.
“You could have got hurt, Max,” you tell him, shoving him in the arm. He rolls his eyes. Of course. When taking your own life in your hands is what you get paid for there’s not much you can afford to be scared of. “What would have happened if you’d broke your hand? Your dad would actually kill me,”
“My dad would have done the same thing I did,” Max counters, and you can tell by the several expressions that cross his face in quick succession that he doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.
“Your dad is an idiot,” you remind him. He doesn’t argue. “And so are you,”
He scoffs. “So I was just supposed to let him talk to you like that? Touch you like that?” It’s not really a question, more a general statement of unadulterated disgust and you can’t really blame him. “Fuck that. I’m not going to just-“
He cuts himself off, his jaw ticking again. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, but you know men behaving like sentient sewage is a sore subject for both of you. Maybe, you think, you shouldn’t make him feel bad for standing up for you. You’d never needed anyone to stand up for you, and you still didn’t, but the fact that Max always did means more to you than you know how to articulate.
You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, catching more of the corner of his mouth than you intended, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stops walking and looks at you, the left side of his lips twitching.
“You kiss idiots?” Max asks, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip.
“Exclusively,” you shrug, “judging by my dating history,”
That makes him laugh, a proper one, with that bark he does when he’s surprised how funny he finds something. All traces of the menace from the boat filter out of his body, and something in the back of your head tells you it was just in time.
“Hey,” a loud, obnoxious, and lovable voice rings out behind you. You turn around and see Laurent walking towards you with a well satisfied Clara on his back, holding a large bottle of pilfered champagne. “Where the fuck have you two been?”
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nalyra-dreaming · 14 days
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So, in that 2x04 argument transcription I'm debating Armand's "... and more and more of them.... they got through" as to whether that's in context of where Louis makes a jab about calling Lestat (as in, Armand making calls to Lestat when Louis was not around?), or if Armand is perhaps referencing Louis' buried memories. How are you interpreting that part?
A little bit of both is my gut feeling (if that transcript is, indeed, accurate).
Like... I do think it's mostly memories of Lestat coming through, of their time... and especially of what Louis is then suppressing - or what is suppressed for him.
Given 2x05 starts with a wholly different relationship scene it stands to reason imho that Armand "tinkered" again, after this. Buried the memories again, after.
Louis taunting Armand there is very interesting though. I mean, we see in 2x05 that Louis knew Armand called Lestat... several times. And if the transcript is correct then that thought is always on the back-burner of Louis' mind. But what Louis says there is the same thing that actually happens when he is talking to "Dreamstat" there - "Lestat" is hyping him up, coddling him, tells him what he wants/then needs to hear... and it makes me wonder if "Dreamstat" wasn't a LOT more present in Dubai, too. I mean, we see him later. But what if that is what Armand is actively suppressing there.
We saw Louis holding open the door for "Dreamstat" in Paris. He was talking to "thin air" as well, the hallucination of "Lestat" so real to him he probably talked "in reality" to him as well. Felt him.
Daniel's "Are you schizophrenic Louis?" was very much on point I think though I don't think it's a permanent actual mental illness for Louis.
It's more a... retreat, a representation of Louis' state of mind, a place that Armand can suppress the memories of, but cannot actually suppress, because "Dreamstat" comes from a place of longing and actual truth, from deep within Louis (source):.
“The thing that I love about Dream-stat is that it’s Louis’ idealized version. It’s the version of Lestat, or of their relationship that you never got to see really in Season 1. It’s the quieter side of their relationship,” Anderson explains. “They’re hanging out! They’re best friends. It’s a narcissistic version of that because he’s also a manifestation of Louis’ own feelings about things. But I think there is also quite a big element of friendship, companionship. It’s something that Louis missed. Lestat did see him. Lestat knows him probably better than anyone.”
I think that the jab, the accusation of "do you think I need to be hyped up", and the comments about Lestat and the memories all come from the same place, namely Armand not understanding that... Louis actually does want to be coddled. Hyped up. Cared for. Because... Louis wants his cigarette lit when he takes one. He wants support when he asks for it. He wants an honest opinion when he asks for it, or an emotional buffer when he needs that. He wants the money when he wants to buy the Fairplay Saloon. And so on. He wants to be cared for within his own agency.
(And Lestat often fulfilled his requests, even to turning Claudia, as we saw.)
But Louis does not want to be cared for the way Armand does it for the most part, which is actually taking his agency. Armand cares for Louis doing what he thinks best.
Armand literally "protects Louis from himself", which is something he states within the show. By taking the memories away, too. By tinkering with Louis' behavior. By putting whole phrases and words into Louis' mind.
I think what "breaks through" might be discrepancies. Things that don't fit. Louis is clever, he must notice. Daniel is a lifeline, that Louis needs to cast while keeping Armand "under control" ... somehow. Which is why he falls back into the power play there, imho.
Which is why "Rashid" happens at all I think.
Because, and I know I keep coming back to this scene, but this is Louis' face when Armand reveals himself in 1x07:
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Yeah. Happy is something else. This is trepidation.
He knew it would get really difficult now (to break through). And he was right! Armand tried real hard to uphold the status quo - and almost succeeded, too.
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trentlife · 11 months
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THE NEXT CHAPTER
trent alexander arnold ♥︎
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@ yourusername
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liked by perrieedwards, trentarnold66 and 45,283 others
yourusername love from dubai with my love
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liked by szoboszlaidominik, andyrobertson94 and 1,221,394 others
trentarnold66 summer break, be back soon.
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dailymail
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liked by trentfp66, lfcnews and 23,823 others
dailymail liverpool and england star, trent alexander arnold, spotted out with his young love, y/n, grabbing food in the night lights of dubai.
the pair where spotted leaving nobu restaurant, at around 11pm last night, all loved up, hands linked with each others.
link in bio for my info 📎
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user193 i hope this is the girl he settles down with
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liked by judebellingham, virgilvandijk and 623,294 others
yourusername we said forever 7 years ago, now he just put a ring on it 🥀
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trentarnold66 my wife 🫶❤️ pinned
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liked by judebellingham, k.mbappe and 2,959,386 others
trentarnold66 got you forever 🌎
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like and repost to support!
i hope you enjoyed.
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kp777 · 2 months
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Here’s Where Kamala Harris Stands on Climate
She pursued polluters as attorney general in California and later staked out bold positions as a senator, including sponsorship of the Green New Deal.
By Lisa Friedman
The New York Times
July 22, 2024
Vice President Kamala Harris has for years made the environment a top concern, from prosecuting polluters as California’s attorney general to sponsoring the Green New Deal as a senator to casting the tiebreaking vote as vice president for the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act, the largest climate investment in United States history.
As she runs for the White House, Ms. Harris is widely expected to try to protect the climate achievements of the Biden administration, a position that could resonate with voters during a summer of record heat. A clear majority of Americans, 65 percent, wants the country to focus on increasing solar, wind and other renewable energy and not fossil fuels, according to a May survey by the Pew Research Center.
Last year, Ms. Harris flew to the United Nations global climate summit in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where she told world leaders that “the urgency of this moment is clear. The clock is no longer just ticking, it is banging. And we must make up for lost time.”
That was a subtle reference to former President Donald J. Trump, who made the United States the first and only country to withdraw from the global Paris Agreement to limit greenhouse gas emissions. (The United States subsequently rejoined under President Biden.) The Republican nominee in the current race for the White House, Mr. Trump has indicated that he would again pull back from the global fight against climate change if he is elected in November.
“Around the world, there are those who seek to slow or stop our progress, leaders who deny climate science, delay climate action, and spread misinformation,” Ms. Harris said at the summit. “In the face of their resistance and in the context of this moment, we must do more.”
Republicans have targeted the Inflation Reduction Act, promising to overturn it if they win control of Congress and the White House. That law pumps more than $370 billion over 10 years into wind, solar, batteries and electric vehicles. It is designed to help the country move away from fossil fuels, the burning of which is driving up global temperatures. At their convention last week, Republicans promised to halt any transition away from oil, gas and coal, and to promote more fossil fuel development.
Asked if Ms. Harris would pursue the policies she supported as a senator, like the Green New Deal, her climate adviser, Ike Irby, said she would focus on implementing the Inflation Reduction Act, which she helped to pass.
“She will fight every day for all Americans to have access to clean air, clean water, and a healthy environment,” Gina McCarthy, who served as national climate adviser under Mr. Biden, said in a statement Sunday. “Vice President Harris would kick ass against Trump.”
The vice president incorporated climate change into foreign relations, holding a round table in Bangkok to connect environmental activists with clean energy experts and starting a partnership with Caribbean countries to address climate change.
As a senator from California, the state that is at the forefront of climate policy, Ms. Harris promoted electrifying school buses to reduce greenhouse gases and to cut children's exposure to diesel engine pollution. She also supported efforts to replace lead water pipes and promoted measures to help agriculture become more resilient to drought.
But she also took positions far to the left of Mr. Biden on climate change.
She was an original co-sponsor of the Green New Deal, a nonbinding resolution supported by liberal Democrats that called for the United States to transition to 100 percent clean energy within a decade while providing people with job guarantees and “high-quality health care.” The measure never got out of committee.
When Ms. Harris ran for president in 2020, her climate plan called for a $10 trillion increase in spending over a decade as well as a price on carbon, with a dividend that would have been returned directly to households. Economists have said that a carbon tax would be the most effective way to get industries to reduce their pollution.
She also favored a ban on hydraulic fracturing, known as fracking, which Mr. Biden said he opposed. Fracking is a technique that injects water and chemicals underground at high pressure to extract oil or gas that is otherwise difficult to access. Environmentalists say it pollutes the air and groundwater. California regulators have taken steps to ban fracking.
As California’s attorney general, Ms. Harris challenged federal approvals of offshore fracking along the California coast. She investigated whether Exxon Mobil lied to the public and its shareholders about the risks to its business from climate change, and whether such actions could amount to securities fraud and violations of environmental laws, but the case did not result in a prosecution.
She would later claim during a Democratic forum on climate change in 2019 that she had sued Exxon Mobil, which fact checkers reported as untrue. She did obtain settlements from other oil and gas companies, including Chevron and BP, over allegations that they violated pollution laws.
In 2019, Ms. Harris joined Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Democrat of New York, to introduce legislation that would require the government to consider the impact of environmental regulations or laws on low-income communities, which tend to be disproportionately vulnerable to climate disruption because they are often located in flood zones, near highways, power plants and polluted land.
As vice president, Ms. Harris does not use the phrase “Green New Deal,” which has been relentlessly mocked by conservatives, who use it as shorthand for all climate and clean energy policies.
Her Republican opponents are not likely to let her forget it, though.
“During her ill-fated and short-lived 2020 presidential campaign, Harris was an early and enthusiastic supporter of the Green New Deal and called for so-called ‘carbon neutrality’ by 2030, all of it with a $10 trillion price tag,” Daniel Turner, executive director of Power The Future, a group that advocates for fossil fuels, said in a statement.
He called Ms. Harris part of the “climate cult that calls the shots in today’s Democratic Party.”
Evergreen Action, an environmental group, endorsed Ms. Harris on Sunday. The youth-led Sunrise Movement, which last week called on Mr. Biden to end his bid for re-election, praised his decision to step away. The group did not directly endorse Ms. Harris but said any replacement must “put forth a bold vision to tackle the climate crisis and fight for our generation.”
Other organizations said they were holding back an endorsement until the Democratic nomination process is completed.
Article share from The New York Times.
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wingedalpacawinner · 3 months
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v-carecustomers · 6 months
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"If they divorce, Harry doesn’t have any money to give (or it’s all tied up in assets), but his daddy has money and that’s probably Meghan would target, since The Queen paid for Charles’s and Andrew’s settlements and she sees Harry being in the same position (the son of the monarch)."
I know it's hairsplitting because ultimately you might be right, but The Queen didn't pay Charles's divorce beyond giving him a loan which he had to pay back - source: his own lawyer who talked about it in an interview in 2004. The duchy of Cornwall was off limits as far as wealth assessments, so Charles had to come up wiyh money from his personal money.
Sidenote: considering his annual income from the duchy, Charles lifestyle must be so excessive that he struggled to settle the paltry £17M divorce bill. 
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/1467785/Diana-took-Charles-to-cleaners-in-divorce-says-his-banker.html
 Meanwhile, Andrew's settlement was unusual because on the one hand it was based on his personal fortune sans trusts and salary as a naval officer, but on the other, Andrew was favoured son AND the divorce was forced by The Queen against the wishes of Andrew and Sarah so i think her decision to pay the divorce bill by settling trusts on the 2 daughters and allowing Sarah to move back in with Andrew was from personal feeling. 
Markle is at the opposite end of the scale as far as familial affection from Charles OR William. Further, no one in the family knows or cares about the children. There are no emotive reasons to support them. 
Finally, in the past decade, it's been established innthe British courts that family wealth of royals can't be used as the basis for a divorce claim even where the kids are firmly inside the family circle. 
The best example of this is Tessy of Luxemborg who lived the ultra wealthy life as a royal wife for a decade, but upon her divorce, she was left with nothing and her kids were granted peanuts on the level of £3000 per month / kid. She tried to argue that her hubby might not have personal wealth, but he received an allowance in the millions from the family which was uber wealthy. 
The other example is Haya of Dubai. Superficially, her settlement is huge to the tune of half a billion pounds, but when you break it down, you realise that she also got peanuts and 90% of the settlement was to cover a lifetime of security for her and her kids because her ex-husband was deemed a clear and present danger to her and her kids for their lifetimes and she would need the kind of security that matched his own to keep them safe. 
***
Definitely give the Telegraph article a read. It has some good details about the Charles/Diana divorce.
(Anon included a big chunk of it in their submission that I removed for copyright reproduction concerns - I remember the early days around here when Sussex Squad was getting blogs shut down over reproducing copyrighted text.)
Here’s the archived link for anyone without a Telegraph subscription.
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