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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

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glassgob · 5 months

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[Image ID: Digital illustration of The Chime from COUNTER/Weight. The focus of the drawing is of Aria Joie and AuDy walking side-by-side. In the top left corner is The Chime taking a selfie. The background is decorated in small stars and the lyrics of "FM" by Steely Dan. End ID.]

#friends at the table #counter/weight #f@tt #aria joie #audy #cassander timaeus berenice #mako trig #audy is based off of a black house ant? iirc #some sort of ant. its been a minute

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youcouldmakealife · 19 days

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SOTM: Bryce/Jared, Elaine; Man of the Hour (Day, Week, Month, Year)

For the prompt: One of the articles Bryce mentions. "…like, a profile thing? How it was growing up gay in hockey, that kind of thing… A chance to establish myself as like, I am now,” Bryce says. “Kind of like — not set the record straight, exactly, but like, show I’ve matured and stuff. "

It’s the definition of a typical Vancouver day, drizzly and overcast, when I meet Bryce Marcus. He likely needs no introduction, but I will introduce him anyway: the star centre for the Vancouver Canucks who went from being the enemy while playing for the arch-rival Calgary Flames to becoming possibly the most beloved man in the city: certainly if you you asked the fans streaming out of Rogers Arena after watching the Canucks win the Cup for the third time, or the hundreds of thousands of lining Burrard to cheer on their Canucks at the Stanley Cup Parade on a beautiful sunny day this June.

The weather is anything but glamourous today, however, and at the Marcus Matheson household, the surroundings aren’t either.

Jared Matheson, husband and teammate of Bryce, apologizes as I step over a box in their hallway. “We’re kind of in the middle of a move right now.”

They’re trading their two-bedroom condo for something ‘a little more permanent’. Both have decided that wherever their NHL careers may take them, Vancouver is going to remain home, and they’ve just closed on a house nearby.

“Bryce is weirdly excited about getting to mow the lawn,” Jared tells me as we wait for Bryce to finish getting ready. In light of the hyper-competitive Vancouver real estate market it’s entirely understandable to be excited about lawncare — it means you have a lawn to care for — but one wouldn’t have expected that to extend even to Vancouver’s sports stars.

When Bryce emerges, five minutes after my arrival, he announces himself by swearing as he trips over a box of his own, and then apologising, both for his language and his tardiness.

“He was doing his hair,” Jared says.

“I was not,” Bryce scowls, but doesn’t offer an alternative explanation.

After a quick tour of their condo, which is currently half in boxes, Bryce and I hop into his Audi S8 — naturally courtesy Capilano Audi, whose ads featuring him are inescapable during Canucks games. We drive to Richmond so he can show me his old haunts: elementary, middle, and high school — though he finished high school in Washington while playing for the Spokane Chiefs — his home rink, the Dairy Queen his mother took him after hockey games. He’s a capable, if slightly aggressive driver. I mention this because from the dire warning I received from Jared on the way out the door I genuinely believed I might not survive the drive.

Bryce finally pulls into the driveway of an unassuming but cheerful house on a quiet suburban street. The morning drizzle has faded, and the weather is now just as bright and warm as his childhood home, and the mother who raised him there. Already waiting for us on the porch, his mother Elaine Marcus offers me a glass of lemonade. “Store bought, I’m afraid,” she says with a smile. “I’m not much of homemaker.”

Over lemonade and cookies — “Also store bought,” Elaine admits, “but this bakery is very good!”, and she’s right about that — she shows me an array of childhood and teenage photos while Bryce complains to his mother that she’s ‘embarrassing’ him.

The photos are more inspiring than embarrassing: photo after photo of a beaming little boy in an equally small Canucks jersey, proudly brandishing a plastic mini-stick (Canucks branded, of course). A true example of someone who grew up to live his childhood dream.

Sadly, as he gets a older the smile disappears, as does the man beaming in the background of so many of those happy photos. His father, Ben Marcus, was killed by an impaired driver at the age of 32. It devastated Elaine and Bryce, who was only four at the time.

“It was hard,” Elaine says. “He didn’t understand. I didn’t understand, when it came down to it. It was a hard time. He wanted to play hockey all the time, it was the only thing he wanted. He was really only happy on the ice.”

“I just wanted him to be happy,” she says, smiling tearfully, and as Bryce wraps a protective arm around his mother's shoulders, I offer to give them a moment.

“It was a long time ago,” Elaine says in dismissal, wiping her eyes. “It’s just hard sometimes. Ben loved hockey, loved watching the Canucks with Bryce — he’d have been so proud to see Bryce lift the Cup for them. I am too, of course, but it was always Ben and Bryce’s thing. He would have been so proud.”

I do give them a moment then, and when I return, my lemonade has been refilled and both are all smiles once again, though Bryce's doesn't last. He cringes as we go through photos of his teen years. There’s a sullen look on his face in every picture.

And what was Bryce like as a teenager?

"I'll let him answer that," Elaine says diplomatically.

“I don’t really know,” Bryce says, looking thoughtful. “Angry, I guess. I was an angry kid. And confused.”

About his sexuality?

“Everything was confusing,” Bryce says. “But yeah, definitely that too.”

“Bryce cared so much,” Elaine says. “About everything. He still does. The world’s hardest on the people who care most about it.”

Like so many hockey players who’ve come out since Dan Riley and Marc Lapointe did in 2010, he credits their coming out as a major influence on his journey of coming to terms with his identity as both a gay man and a pro hockey player.

“You don’t really put it together,” Bryce says. He turned sixteen the summer the Leafs won the Stanley Cup, and Riley and Lapointe subsequently came out. “Like, okay, sure, you can be gay and play hockey. Except nobody thought that. I didn’t think that. If you said that, maybe I’d say okay, but I didn’t believe it.”

How, then, did he reconcile being gay and playing hockey?

“That's the thing,” Bryce says. “I didn’t, you know? I was playing hockey, so obviously I wasn’t, right? Because if I was gay, then I wouldn’t be playing, would I?”

“It sounds so ridiculous saying it now,” he reflects. “But that’s what I thought. And I wasn’t the only one.”

But even more than Riley and Lapointe blazing a trail before him, he credits meeting his husband Jared at a hockey skills camp in Calgary. In the year before he met Jared, then twenty year old Bryce was arrested twice, for assault and DWI: the latter in particular shook his mother, considering how his father died.

"I was worried about him," she says. "That's probably an understatement."

“I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn't met Jared,” Bryce says. “I genuinely don’t. I don’t think I’d be out. I know I wouldn’t be happy. You know, everyone says it isn’t like in the movies. Falling in love, I mean. That love at first sight and all that is b******t. But that’s pretty much what it was for me.”

Was it mutual?

Bryce laughs. “You’d have to ask Jared, he tells it better than me,” he says. “But no, not really. I wasn't good enough for him. I'm still not good enough for him, but I try to be."

Another warning I’d received from his husband before my tour around town? That Bryce was an incurable romantic. This warning certainly seems more warranted than the one about Bryce’s driving.

And what does Bryce think about Jared’s warning, and his additional suggestion to take anything Bryce said about him with a healthy grain of salt?

“[Jared]’s just modest,” Bryce says.

“He lights up when Jared’s around,” Elaine says. “It’s just like when he was a little boy — every time he stepped onto the ice, he beamed. It’s the same thing with Jared. He’s so happy. It’s so wonderful to see him like that.”

And how was it, not only getting to play with his husband, but to raise the Stanley Cup together?

“It’s a dream come true,” Bryce says. “Really. I know that’s such a cliche, but so is love at first sight, right? And the hometown boy winning it all for his childhood team. They’re all cliches. But they’re my life.”

“I know just how lucky I am,” Bryce says. “Winning with Jared, with this team — it’s been such a whirlwind of a year.”

I tell him to enjoy it.

“I do,” he says, smiling so widely I have no doubt he’s telling the truth. “I really, really do.”

#SOTM #fic snippet #bryce marcus #jared matheson #elaine marcus

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filohazard · 3 months

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AU_______ DY______

[id: A 3D model of AUDY / Automated Dynamics. They are a square-shouldered robot with quite slender limbs, humanoid but for a missing head and broad-chested. In the background are various quotes, taken from 'Search at the Table', by or about that character]

#automated dynamics #audy #counterweight #friends at the table

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erelavent · 3 months

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I think it's funny that Carlos posted an unprompted tiktok yesterday where he signs Ferrari driver cards as some poorly thought out way of showing his loyalty to Ferrari while his contract negotiations have stalled after his family has fanned speculation that he's waiting to join Audi.

And in response to that, Ferrari announced Charles' contract extension and Charles drops a high production video where he waxes poetic about how driving for Ferrari has been his dream since he was 3 years old while the music he wrote himself plays in the background. No matter what anyone says, that's Ferrari cementing Charles' first driver status.

I don't know who is on Carlos' management team, but they need to up their PR game, tell his family to STFU and rethink their negotiation strategy.

#f1 #ferrari #charles leclerc #carlos sainz

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loudlyhappycupcake · 3 months

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Chely's pink mewni crystal fortress cave background 💜🏖️ on the beach~ ❤️🏖️🌊Rose Garden under the pier

fantasy Background The official site of Walt Disney Animation Studios. @serentiydraw5678 @untitled14360 @shironezuninja @sakulovejulius12 @twiliartsdreams2017 @bitter-yet-civilized @collector-noceda-clawthorne @cartoonfan21 @evander2511 @jimenacake16 @waltdiegi-rodriguez-theartist @d-blue02 @torkmadox20 @enchantedchocolatebars @entinullbutno @aamericanotaku @gametoon @broadwaygirl918 @miniaturejudgeturkeytree @wolfie245 @ladysegagenesis @ladybugsonfire @lunewishes @rose-quartz-youniverse @roselyn-writing @garbage-of-love @gay-steeb @nevaehjwilliamsvaeh @jazzyrazzy157 @jademz1711

@fireopal-tash

#disney #fanart #steven universe #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #my art #artists on tumblr #illustration #digital art #chely audi #fortress #castle #beach #peir #art #garden #roses #background

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shironezuninja · 8 months

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If FIOS On Demand has the 2nd SpiderVerse movie for a September 5th Rental Streaming Date like Apple+, then I’m in for another few weeks of waiting again.

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gloztik · 1 month

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Audi a6 super luxury car 4k desktop wallpaper mountain

This wallpaper is about Audi a6 super luxury car, 4k desktop wallpaper, dark mountain background, sunset view. This image size is 1211097 kb and resolution is 3840×2160.

#audi a6 #4k wallpaper #desktop wllpaper #mountain background #sunset view #dark mountain background #luxury car

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usaigi · 7 months

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Modern Blue Lions headcanons

Dimitri

Has difficulties with fine motor skills following the car accident that killed his family and Glenn. Has to use accommodating tools like specific silverware and a laptop to take notes in class. Kids used to be jealous that he got use a laptop in class but he just wanted to be normal

Regular member of his school GSA but everyone assume he's just a straight ally because look at him. Look at his hair. He's straight. His classmates don't discover he's actually bi until a week before graduation when they see him kiss Felix

Also a regular member of the BIPOC solidarity club. Dimitri, Dorothea, Ashe and Constance are the token white allies.

(mental health spiraling) "haha puberty/hormones :) No need to discuss these new symptoms with anyone, it's just normal teenager things" (it is not normal teenage things)

Annette

banned from home ec after starting a fire while making a salad... She's was trying to make homemade croutons...

girl ADHD :)

she got a B on a chem test one and cried about it for 2 days straight

"Maybe if I get all A and get this many awards and get this many scholarships, my dad will love me :)" (girl.. :( )

Frenemies with Lysithea. They're buddies until it's time for exams. Then it's war. There can only be one valedictorian. (death note's "I'll take a potato chip and eat it" songs plays in the background)

Olivia Rodrigo stan

Sylvain

Hasn't said "okay i'm sorry that I looked at Mrs Riley and lightly grazed her left tit" but has said that exact same thing

friend with a car. "yeah we can all fit into my Audi; Annette and Ashe are tiny, just squeeze in and pretend you like each other. We can stick Felix in the trunk" "I'll kill you."

He's in Lacross AND theatre. Ice hockey AND Ice dancing and figure skating. He can do both, he's bisexual

Has to pick between a major sport game and his theatre show. His dad wants him to follow his dream and do the game but Sylvain is getting ready to tell him "no dad i'm giving up your dream." He backs out. He goes to the game.

"You got a perfect score on the college entrance exams?" "Why is it hard?" (he studied so much)

Ingrid

"Gay people are real??? They don't just exist in San Francisco and on Glee???" /gen confusion. Not in a homophobic way, she's just raised in a conservative environment and instead of going on the internet, she hangs out with her horses (Just wait till she finds out about trans people)

When her family was going through a particularly hard financial time, her friends started packing extra lunch. They all know she doesn't accept handouts but Ingrid will never say no to leftovers.

So chronically offline. Who's Billie Eilish? What's Succession? What is Rizz?? They're making another Spider-Man movie!?

Dedue

Vice-president of the BIPOC solidarity club. The school gives them club money and he uses it to make food for the members.

"..." "Go on" "Down with... gringo?" *Claude, Petra, Felix, Cyril, Hapi, Constance, Dimitri, Ashe and Dorothea all clap*

Football/Basketball/Hockey couches keep trying to recruit him. He just wants to garden.

(Tw racism and ref to violence to poc men) "I don't want to antagonist white people. As a large brown man, I'm already perceived as a threat." "That's ok! Your safety comes first. I got this," Dorothea says as she throws eggs at someone's car with a confederate flag.

Mercedes

"I'm joining the war on liberation theology on the side of liberation theology."

"Mercedes! Can you explain your tardiness?" "Forgive me, professor, I was at morning mass." (She was. But she's late because she stop to smoke a blunt.)

In her most angelic, big sister voice, "fuck TradCaths 😊"

Somehow still failing her religious studies class

(tw cults and implied anti semitic conspiracy) Raised in a religious cult where her step dad was the leader until she and her mom escaped. Because of this, did not know Jewish people were real. "I knew they were people in the bible but all I knew was [redact]" (Don't worry, she knows better now that she's not in a literal cult)

Felix

"I fucking hate my dad" "why? Is it cause he didn't accept you being queer/trans?" "No, he was cool with that. He's just fucking annoying."

"Ingrid, what the hell, I'm literally trans. You know this. We've been friends since we were in diapers." "Oh. I forgot." "YOU FORGOT!?"

Wasian. (tw sui joke) @ Dimitri and Sylvain "stop joking about killing yourself--you're appropriating my culture, assholes."

Secret Olivia Rodrigo fan. He only listens to her music on youtube + incognito mode. Only Annette knows. Annette manages to get them concert tickets were they run into Lysithea.

Ashe

Spider-Man stan on main. Somehow he convinces Dedue to be his Ned Leeds to his Peter Parker for Halloween

He knows Ingrid would like the MCU if she watched it, but she's scared of needing to watch 10000 movies

*slaps Ashe's back* You can pack so much anxiety in this guy

Started school in the middle of the year because he's a foster kid. Rumors started spread about him being a harden criminal because he went to juvie. He keeps tries to correct them and say he's never been but Caspar keeps fueling the rumors

"Caspar! Stop telling people I went to juvie! That never happened!" "...You... lied to me? :(" "You made it up!" "Oooh. Right."

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #annette fantine dominic #dedue molinaro #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #ashe ubert #felix hugo fraldarius #mercedes von martritz #dorothea arnault #caspar von bergliez #lysithea von ordelia #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes fanart #fe16 #blue lions #usaigi speaks #heacanons

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lively-potter · 3 months

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— moon struck ; part 5

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers, kinda grumpy x sunshine, fluff, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— intro , part one, part two, part three, part four

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

river's pov ; two days later ; six am

Sullenly staring at Jungkook's unread text messages on my phone, guilt bubbled within my veins.

Two days ago, when we exchanged numbers, I had only replied once.

And that was all.

I was too nervous to even text him.

And I felt bad for ignoring him when he didn't do anything wrong – and I was sure to get yet another lecture for my behavior once Corey found out.

It was only a matter of time before Jungkook would come and drop off Moon before he went to work...and I didn't know what to do.

Sighing lowly, I hesitantly opened his message – one he had sent yesterday and gulped.

jungkook: how r u?

Something inside me fluttered at his words, but I pushed those feelings to the back of my mind, to a place I would more than likely never visit unless I was in the middle of a midnight mental breakdown.

I didn't like to allow myself to feel much.

Not even back when I was a young teenager.

I had never experienced love...or romantic feelings towards anyone.

Sure, I loved my family and my friends but romantic feelings...yeah no.

I was better off alone, or so I told myself.

My thumbs tapped lightly on the screen of my cell phone as I sat, cross legged, on the floor beside Sang and a couple of seven-year-olds. I sent a smile to the happy kids and handed them the baby dolls they asked for.

me: I'm great. How are you?

I bit down on my lip, debating whether or not my text was too unfeeling. I rolled my eyes at my conscience and typed out another message.

me: also, I'm sorry for the late reply. I was up late last night finishing up another order for later today and my phone died. I hope you and Moon have been well.

There.

Now my stupid guilty conscience can take a rest.

"You okay, Rivvy?"

I snapped out of my of daze and stashed my phone in my pocket.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the familiar matte black Audi R8 park in front of the daycare center and paled.

"Uh, yeah..." I muttered under my breath, feeling the air expelled from my lungs at the sight of Jungkook, dressed in a pair of black pants with red lining down the legs with a matching top.

As always, his hair was effortlessly styled and another pair of black chunky combat boots accentuated his figure and fashion.

I distantly wondered how many pairs of combat boots the man owned and wondered if I could ever pick up the nerve to ask him where he got them so I could get a pair for myself.

I was embarrassed to say that Jungkook and Moon had better style than me.

I preferred to wear clothing that hid my figure...so I wouldn't feel people staring at me all the time.

Before I knew it, I was on my feet and hurrying away when Jungkook opened the back door and disappeared inside the car.

"I'm just... going to...check on the cupcakes! Yeah, that's it!" I snapped my fingers, ignoring Sang's blank stare on my back.

In the background, across the room, Brett's roaring laughter was heard.

"You can only hide for so long, Rivvy!" Brett called after my scampering figure. I waved her off and skidded inside the kitchen. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I quickly shook off the trepidation of opening the text message that came through.

I know, Brett—no need to remind me.

I groaned and tugged the sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt over my hands and ducked down. You freaking coward.

I gnawed nervously on my lip when the door opened and Moon's excited squeals entered the room. The nervous lip-biting washed away at her happy squeals and my heart quickened in happiness.

Awww.

"Hey, sweet little Moon!" I heard Sang coo in the other room, "I've missed seeing your adorable little face."

Moon gurgled happily, another happy screech leaving her little body. "Riv! Riv! Riv!" her cute little voice chirped over and over. I could barely contain the awed noise that left my lips after she called out to me.

All I wanted to do was leave my hiding spot and cuddle the little cute baby.

My lips thinned nervously at Jungkook's rumbling chuckle. "You'll see her soon, baby. Okay?"

"Awwww! Lemme hold you, little Moon!" Brett exclaimed happily, more than likely already trying to hold Moon.

A cute angry cry left Moon.

"No!" Moon's favorite word other than 'Da' left her, "Wan' Riv! Da! Wan' Riv!"

A victorious snicker left my lips at Moon's blatant refusal of Brett holding her echoed throughout the room. I slowly left my hiding spot to quietly sneak my way to the oven, where the cupcakes were inside baking.

The smell of chocolate was in the air, and within a couple more minutes, they would be done.

The conversation happening in the other room left my mind as I put my focus in getting the cupcakes out of the oven, and onto the rack to cool. I'd have to decorate them later since the order was due tomorrow.

Mrs. Goode's daughter Sarah, the girl we had watched over a couple of times, had a birthday party tomorrow at five, and I'd promised Mrs. Goode that I would have them all ready.

I still had a couple more rounds to make, but I'd get it done even if I had to be up the entire night.

Sarah was such a sweet kid, and I put all my time and effort into making sure she had the perfect little cupcakes for her party.

While my back was turned, the kitchen door opened behind me. Obliviously, I slid on one oven mitt and maneuvered the cupcake pan out of the oven.

"Those cupcakes smell good." a husky voice spoke up suddenly from behind me. Being caught off guard, my heart shot out of my butt.

A shriek of pain left my lips the moment I jumped, the cupcake pan falling to the floor, and in my haste to save them, the mitt fell off my tiny hand and I grabbed the searing hot pan with my bare hands.

My hands burned like I was touching an open flame. Quickly I threw the pan on top of the oven and looked at my burning hands.

"Ow!"

"Holy fuck –" I heard Jungkook mutter from behind me. Instantly, his tattooed hands were on either side of my biceps, and twirling me around to face him. My head was turned downward, so I didn't see his face as he took both of my injured hands in his and observed them closely. "I'm so sorry — I–I didn't mean to scare you." his sad apologetic voice tugged at my heartstrings. I bit my lip as he led me over to the sink and held my hands underneath the icy cold water.

His front was firmly, closely pressed against my back, huddled towards me as his thumbs gently ran over my red palms.

I flushed a deep red at being so close to him and allowed him to continue to hold my hands under the steady stream of water. My head fell back, against my wishes, mind you, and rested on his rest.

The top of my head only met his pec.

Unknowingly, I allowed myself to bask in his touch, enjoying the way he was so close to me.

No man had ever been this close to me.

Ever.

And I liked it.

But I didn't want to like it as much as I did.

"I'm sorry, River." his guilty voice snapped me from my thoughts when the burning sensations dulled. "I swear I didn't mean to."

I licked at my dry lips, glad I wasn't facing him so he could see my blushed cheeks. "I-it's okay." I trailed off, "I should have been paying more attention." I added, not understanding why I wanted to reassure him.

"Still," he murmured, thumbs lazily rubbing circles along with my wrist. And I let him. The heat radiating off of him warmed my chilled body and I unconsciously snuggled against him.

Seeing this, Jungkook smiled above me and pressed closer, warming my body with his. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital? I-I don't mind," he suggested kindly.

Words left us. Jungkook and I only stood in front of the sink, water still running over my hands, both unwilling to part from one another.

While my head continued to rest against his pec, I couldn't help but wonder just why I was feeling...whatever this feeling was when I was near him – or even when I thought about him.

I didn't want to feel this...right?

This was something I had been agonizing over for months, and I was no closer to figuring it out than when I first tried to work through it.

Anxiety stole my breath away and I struggled to catch it back.

I wasn't ready for this.

And I wasn't sure I ever would be.

author's note ; ✨

hiiiii ~ ❤️✨

Thanks so much for reading!

#jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #dilf jungkook #moonstruck #jeongguk

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