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copper-16 · 28 days

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Scary

Several things go amiss during an El Clásico, but it is nothing that cannot be fixed with a little love and bravery.

(a/n: This might be a stretch to the imagination, but let’s just pretend that all the RM/Barcelona games are played at bigger stadiums in this universe. Also Marta Cardona still plays at RM in this as well, because I said so <3)

Ingrid and Mapi had made a small list of rules regarding their daughter when she was born. Some of them included things like:

4. She would not attend any games at stadiums bigger than Johan Cryuff until she was three years old.

7. She would never go to a Spain camp or a Spanish national team game unless situations change drastically.

12. She would take turns being their mascot, unless it was a big event for one of their teammates, and they wanted Elena as their mascot.

All of them had been good additions to the list, and they had stuck to their guns on it. They were made for her safety, to make sure that she wasn’t overwhelmed or overstimulated as a young child, or put in situations that could negatively affect her as such a young child. They did not regret their choices, but it did lend itself to an interesting situation just a few weeks after Elena’s third birthday.

Ever since she had been born, all of the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid games had been played at large arenas, beyond the capacity that they wanted Elena to experience at such a young age. And just as they said, the toddler had never been to a Spain national team camp or game. She readily came to the Norwegian camps and games, but Mapi strictly forbade her from coming to Spains.

When the Spanish defender had made the decision to go back to the Spanish national team, it wasn’t something she had taken lightly. But Pina and Patri wished to go back, and the brunette both wanted to protect her friends, and play for her country again.

But hell would freeze over before she let her baby anywhere near that environment, near the coaches and structures that had played a hand in so much abuse, both physically and mentally.

It was better for Elena this way, and Mapi preferred it that way. But it also meant that several of the Real Madrid girls who Mapi wasn’t necessarily as close with, had never met Elena.

So when El Clásico is scheduled for early January at Lluís Companys Olympic Stadium, the mothers realize that it will be their first time getting to bring Elena to such an event. She had just turned three a few weeks ago, and they figured it was as good of a time as any to introduce her to the environment of a larger game, still safe with the two of them.

And as it turned out, Mapi was the one who got Elena as her mascot that day. Which meant that early in January, the center back stood in the starting eleven lineup with her daughter on her hip, bouncing her lightly as they waited to walk out onto the pitch.

Elena was slightly overstimulated, the roar of the crowd outside of the tunnel and the sheer size of the place around her slightly overwhelming for the young girl, so she was happy to cling to her mother’s side. She looked around at everything for a while, before settling on waving back at her Mama, who was standing in line behind her, holding the hand of another little boy.

Mapi waved forward at Misa Rodríguez and Marta Cardona, who were both pointing at Elena with excitement. The Barcelona defender smiled, rubbing her daughter’s back up and down softly as she nodded - confirming that the two players would get to meet the little girl today.

But it’s an exchange Elena misses entirely, only focusing fully back on her Mami when the players begin to walk out to the stadium properly.

It’s an early evening game, the sun just beginning to set as Mapi tickles Elena’s stomach as they walk out, pointing at all the fans and explaining everything to her daughter. The little girl tucks herself into the smaller defenders side, happily pressed up against Mapi as she takes everything in, curious if not a little anxious.

It’s the biggest environment she’s ever been in, but Mapi finds that their daughter settles quite quickly, waving at all the people as they stand in a line.

“Hola!” Elena calls out happily, and the brunette smiles as many of the fans wave back, well aware of who was in the defender's arms.

“I love you mi sol,” Mapi murmurs, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple before she passes the little one to Irene, who would not be playing in the match, but rather resting. Ingrid comes over to kiss Elena’s forehead once before she runs toward the backline, leaving Mapi to jog after her, still looking at their daughter.

“Adios Mami, good luck!” Elena called out as Irene carted her away, remaining happily placed in the older defender's arms for the remainder of the game.

The game doesn’t end up being too hard of a match for Barcelona, with a scoreline of 5-0 in their favor. Ingrid had even scored one of their goals, a header off of a corner set piece they had played.

When the final whistle blew, Irene released Elena and watched carefully as she ran straight to Ingrid, who was closer to the little girl than her wife. The Norwegian turned easily, opening her arms as she crouched down, scooping the toddler up into her arms and pressing kisses all over her head.

“You won!” Elena cheered as she giggled, and Ingrid nodded, sweaty and tired but excited nonetheless. It had been a good match, and the crowd was rowdy and roaring around them, clearly equally as elated with the win.

“We did!” Ingrid responded happily as she bounced her daughter on her hip, clapping her hands together as best as she could as she held her daughter, looking around at her teammates with a big smile on her face.

The Norwegian headed toward the bench, intent on getting some water, when she was intercepted by one of the staff members.

“They need you for media,” she explained with a grimace, her voice urgent, and the dark haired woman nodded her head in understanding as she looked quickly toward her wife. The Spaniard was standing off toward their bench, talking to some teammates.

“Of course, let me just do a hand off real quick,” Ingrid explained, rushing over to place Elena down a few paces from where Mapi’s back was turned to them, as she hears her name being called more urgently. “You go over to Mami, okay Elena?” Ingrid explained as she brushed the little girl's sandy blonde curls back, and she received a small nod in response from her daughter.

“María!” Ingrid called out as she turned around, running over to where they needed her for media. But just as she called out and turned away, Mapi started walking forward, away from her daughter as she was called to meet with one of the staff members. Ingrid’s call for her wife is lost in the crowd, and suddenly Elena is left standing on the sidelines of the pitch, with neither of her parents really in sight.

The little girl looks around, hoping that someone in her Mami and Mama’s team will notice her standing all alone, but everyone is distracted. And the loud, rambunctious crowd that she didn’t mind so much when her Mami was by her side, suddenly seemed much scarier than it had a minute ago to the toddler.

Elena doesn’t know this stadium like she does Johan Cryuff, but there are similarities. She turns around, eyeing the tunnel that she finds similar to the one in Johan, and she makes a run for it, weaving through legs in her quest to get to somewhere a little more quiet and contained.

Once she gets there, she realizes that she’s maybe made a bit of a mistake. Because suddenly nothing really looks familiar, and the young girl struggles with what to do. At Johan, you turned right to get to the Barcelona changing room, so that’s exactly what she does.

The little girl is near close to tears, and desperately hoping that she’ll stumble across the locker room, or one of the Barcelona players that she knows. She’s simply kept walking, going down hallway after hallway, trying to find something or someone familiar. By the time she decides that she should turn back around, she’s so lost she doesn’t know how to get back out to the field, and there are tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

Elena comes to a halt in one of the intersections of a hallway as she realizes that she just wants her Mami and Mama, and she doesn’t know what to do. She isn’t the type to wander off, and she’s never been lost like this before. Armed with exactly no experience or skills in coping with such overwhelming feelings, the little girl can do nothing but burst into tears, which stream down her cheeks at a rapid pace as she stands there helplessly.

Misa had been pacing up and down an abandoned hallway in Lluís Companys, staving off tears of her own, her face red as tears brimmed in her eyes. She was frustrated with her performance, with her team's performance, and she needed a second to calm herself down before talking to her teammates or the press, she had decided.

What she didn’t expect, however, was to hear someone else burst into tears, in what sounded like the hallway down from her. Misa pauses, confused by how high pitched and small the noise sounded. It didn’t sound like one of her teammates, and when she rounds the corner, she is entirely unprepared for what she finds.

There is a toddler, a little girl standing alone in the completely empty hallway, her shoulders heaving with the force of her cries, her hands covering her face. She has a little Barcelona kit top on, with the number 23 on it but the last name León across it. The Madridista immediately knows who it is, but what she doesn’t quite understand is why Mapi León and Ingrid Engen’s daughter is sitting in the middle of a hallway on the away side of the stadium.

“Niña? Elena?” Misa calls out softly, walking toward the little girl, who looks up at her when she hears her name called.

Elena looks up, finding a woman she doesn’t know walking toward her, and the first emotion that pours through her is fear. The woman is tall, like Mama, but her face is flushed and she’s wearing an alarmingly bright red jersey and shorts that the young girl doesn’t recognize. Her hands are large, considering that they are encased in goalkeeper gloves, but Elena doesn’t quite realize they are just gloves in her stressed state.

All she registers is that there is a large, unknown woman walking toward her with big, scary hands, and if she was panicked before, it was nothing compared to now. She lets out a fearful squeak as she cowers from Misa, taking several unsteady steps back.

“Hey, it’s okay, I am not going to hurt you niña,” Misa promises, even though she herself is cringing at her words. She’s never felt more like a child predator than in this moment, despite her intentions being more than pure. The goalkeeper had been excited to meet Elena, even more so after the loss, honestly. All of the girls often spoke about how much they adored the little girl, how smiley and kind she was. Misa felt like she could use just a little bit of that energy after the frustrating loss.

And here the smiley little girl was, trying to get away from Misa because she was scared of her. It cracked the Spaniard’s heart right in half, and if she wasn’t upset before, she most definitely was now.

Elena looked behind herself, finally and thankfully spotting a familiar face that had just turned toward the hallway toward the two of them. The Spaniard and Norwegian’s daughter ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, beelining for the Barcelona player who had just turned the corner with Marta and Olga next to her.

Salma had just been coming back to talk to Misa with Marta when all the sudden she felt something slam into her legs, nearly sending her toppling over.

“What the hell—o Elena!” Salma quickly corrected, trying to take in the scene in front of her with complete confusion. The little girl was cowering behind Salma’s legs, holding onto the forward for dear life, practically shaking. Salma instinctively placed her hand over the little girl’s hair, smoothing her curls as she looked up to see Misa walking slowly toward them.

“Elena? What’s going on?” Salma asked helplessly, lost on what to do as she looked between the three Real Madrid players for some semblance of guidance.

Elena had always loved Salma, from when she was a baby. The forward never knew what to do with the little girl, especially when she was younger. She had no experience with children, and she found herself often stunted and awkward in her interactions with Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter, but Elena’s love for her transcended any superfluous worries or awkwardness Salma expressed.

“Scary,” Elena whispered as she pointed toward Misa timidly, her grip on Salma tightening as she tucked her head behind the young Barcelona player's legs. Salma looked up with a heartbroken expression, watching as Misa bit her lip to keep from crying, keeping her distance.

The goalkeeper knew that some people thought she was scary. She got it, she really did. She had an RBF that could probably win an award, and a very intense personality. But it was one thing for a conscious adult to call her scary, and another for a little girl who she had been so excited to meet to call her that. The goalkeeper's heart sank at the realization that this was how Elena was always going to remember her, as the scary woman who tried to kidnap her when she was three years old.

Salma looked between Olga and Marta, silently begging for help. She still had no clue what to do, and appeared to be rather paralyzed by indecision.

It’s Olga who crouches down so that she’s level with the little girl, her voice soft and kind.

“Are you lost niña?” The defender asked gently, and Elena poked her head out from its spot against Salma’s calf, nodding slightly. Her lower lip wobbled heavily, but she wasn’t actively crying, so they all took it as a win.

Elena regarded Olga kindly, if not a bit shyly. The two women with Salma were wearing white, nowhere near the angry red that the other, larger woman was, and the little girl didn’t find them nearly as frightening, all things considered.

“Come on, why don’t we take you back to your Mamis,” Olga decided, holding her hand out for the young girl. Elena took it carefully, but not before reaching for Salma’s hand, making sure that the forward was still holding onto her.

Salma sent the little girl what she hoped was an encouraging smile as they began to walk out toward the pitch. The Barcelona forward wound them down the confusing hallways, with Olga holding Elena’s other hand while Marta carefully wrapped her arm around the goalkeeper. Misa was fighting to keep it together as they all ventured back out to the stadium pitch together.

After a few minutes of walking, Elena let out a small whine, looking up at Salma with big, wet eyes.

“Carry?” She asked, letting go of Olga’s hand in favor of staring up at the tall forward hopefully, tugging lightly on her kit top. Salma looked around at the other girls, terrified and scared of disappointing the little girl. They all looked back at her expectantly in that moment, and she was struck with the fact that she was the one with the most experience with Elena, of the group. It both calms her and terrifies her at the same time, somehow.

“Uh…sure!” She laughed nervously, reaching down to pick Elena up, gripping her under her arms. The forward was used to dealing with the toddler when she was planted firmly on the ground, and she hadn’t carried the sandy blonde girl since she was a baby. She had been so scared to drop the baby that she had shook anxiously the whole time, until Mapi took pity on her and took her daughter back.

But she tries to remember how Mapi and Ingrid do it, settling Elena on her hip as she clings to the little girl for dear life. She would never forgive herself if she dropped her, and she knew she would never hear the end of it from the rest of the team if she did. They were all highly protective of her, a fact that they all prided themselves on.

As the five of them walked out toward the pitch, they had no idea the chaos that was awaiting them out on the field.

—

After her interview had ended, Ingrid had walked back over to her wife with a pep in her step, still overjoyed at the win and the goal she had scored.

Mapi wasn’t hard to find, standing with the assistant coach, discussing a few tactics from the game after he had called her over to talk about some of their defensive lapses. Their daughter was nowhere in sight, so the Norwegian assumed that Mapi had passed her off to one of their teammates, but when she looked around, she couldn’t see Elena anywhere.

“Who did you give Elena to?” Ingrid asked, a crease appeared in her forehead as her eyebrows furrowed together. Mapi looked back at her with equal confusion, shaking her head.

“You have Elena, not me. She went to you after the game,” the Spaniard insists, now beginning to grow confused. Ingrid’s eyebrows flew into her hairline at that statement, shaking her head.

“I gave her to you ten minutes ago, I sent her your way and called out to you,” Ingrid explains, and Mapi pales at the realization that she had never received her daughter.

“I did not hear you, and she never came over to me!” Mapi cried, looking around wildly for her daughter. When she cannot see her anywhere on the pitch, her worry only balloons. “Oh my god, she is lost. She is not here!” The brunette cried out, panic washing over her in waves as she realized what this meant.

The ironic thing was that generally, Ingrid was the anxious one between them. She was the one who worried for Elena, the one who baby proofed the house and took first aid classes and sat in the back of the car with her when she was the baby.

But Ingrid was also exceptional in a crisis, and this was no different.

Mapi, however? Not so good in a crisis, at least a non-football related crisis, that was.

“Oh my god, Ingrid, she could be anywhere!” Mapi pitched as she clawed at her chest, her throat tightening with anxiety as she whipped her head around, looking for any sign of the little girl.

“Do not panic Mapi, she has to be here somewhere. Come on, let’s go find her,” Ingrid insisted, forcing herself to remain calm as she pulled her panicking wife with her as she began to inform people, everyone scrambling to begin looking for the young girl.

They alerted security, sent people all over the stadium to look for her as the Norwegian drug her wife back toward the Barcelona bench.

“This was the last place I left her, so we should stay here. She’s around here somewhere, we just have to find her!” Ingrid insisted as she turned to Irene, who had come over as she got wind of the situation. Hot on the tails of the older defender is the Barcelona captain, looking close to tears herself.

“Is Elena really lost? Where could she have gone? We must find her!” Alexia cried, baby hairs escaping her ponytail as she looked around, clearly frazzled and stressed at the news of the curly haired little girl being lost.

“Yes she is gone–” Ingrid began, only to be cut off before she could even really start her sentence.

“Well we must search for her then!” Alexia interrupted, looking around wildly, her own panic growing.

“Alexia, this is not even your child! If anyone should be allowed to panic, it should be us!” Mapi interjected, her stress seeping into her tone as she gestured wildly with her hands. Alexia let out a huff of disapproval at that, clearly in disagreement.

“She is my goddaughter, I love her too!” Alexia insisted, the two squabbling uselessly as Ingrid watched on with an unimpressed expression.

“If I were not more aware I would assume that these two were the mothers, and not me,” Ingrid mumbled under her breath to Irene, who couldn’t resist letting out a small peal of laughter that she quickly masked as a cough when Mapi and Alexia looked toward her pointedly.

“Who knew that all it took to reduce La Reina and the fearless Mapi León into a puddle of stress was losing a toddler one singular time,” Irene joked back, where she was promptly met with more unimpressed looks from her teammates, and a chuckle from Ingrid.

But even the Norwegian, who was generally cool in a crisis, was beginning to grow worried as time stretched on. Her eyebrows remained furrowed together, her foot beginning to tap nervously as she looked around, letting out a nervous sigh.

“She’s going to be fine, Ingrid. She’s just wandered off somewhere, kids do it sometimes. We lost Mateo in the store once, and found him in the freezer aisle cuddling with some old lady's little dog,” Irene soothed, and Ingrid sent her a grateful smile, even if she didn’t look convinced. She knew the stories, she knew it was normal, but it didn’t make it any easier when it was her own child.

She just wanted Elena back in her arms, proof that she was safe and sound, and to not let her daughter out of her sight until she was twenty seven years old.

“How about we go check the locker room again?” Irene suggests, and the dark haired woman jumps at the opportunity to do something, nodding insistently.

“That’s a good idea,” Ingrid confirmed, and she was just about to head back with her fellow defender when she heard it.

“Mami! Mama!” Elena called out from her spot in Salma’s arms, and both Ingrid and Mapi were booking it toward their daughter as soon as they heard it. The forward was entirely unprepared for both the Spaniard and Norwegian to plow into her, raining kisses down onto her head as they plucked her from Salma’s arms. Mapi hugged Elena tightly to her, as Ingrid pressed into her space, both of them crowding their daughter with an abundance of love and relief, the panic washing off of them at the sight of their precious little girl back safely in their arms.

The forward flipped her braids over her shoulder in relief at the hand off, nearly stumbling over when Ingrid stepped away from her wife and daughter, pulling her younger teammate into a tight hug as Mapi cradled Elena to her chest.

“Thank you so much Salma,” Ingrid murmured in the space above the forward’s shoulders, and despite accepting the hug, the younger woman shook her head.

“It was Misa who found her,” Salma promised, and the dark haired woman wasted no time in moving toward the Real Madrid player, stepping into her space and immediately hugging the goalkeeper, regardless of the fact that they hardly knew one another. Elena looked up from her spot against Mapi to see her Mama moving toward the scary woman, and she let out a whimper as she turned, burrowing her face into Mapi’s sternum with fear.

As the panic subsides from her chest slowly, Mapi takes stock of the whole situation. Elena seemed scared of the Real Madrid players, cowering into her arms as Ingrid hugged Misa tightly. Everyone else seemed focused on Misa, with Salma, Olga, and Marta watching her wife and the Real Madrid goalkeeper. The goalkeeper seemed on the brink of tears, something that the center back assumed was because of the game.

She was informed otherwise when Marta approached her carefully, her voice soft as came close to the Barcelona defender.

“Misa found her in the hallway, but I think she caught the little one in a bad spot, and now I think she’s a little scared of her,” Marta explained, looking toward the Spanish goalkeeper with worry before looking back at the Barcelona center back. Misa was getting a pep talk from both Ingrid and Irene, to what appeared to be little avail, if the tears in her eyes were any indication.

Mapi nods slowly, rubbing her hand soothingly over Elena’s back, up and down softly. Her daughter is already a hundred times calmer, having regulated herself well in her Mami’s arms. That being said, Mapi knew they needed a few moments to regather themselves before they reintroduced her to Misa, if they could.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. Give us a few minutes?” Mapi asked gently, and Marta nodded before leaving, heading back to her teammate's side.

It was just a few moments later that Ingrid appeared at her wife’s side, the Spaniard wordlessly passing her daughter to the Norwegian, who held her close and rained kisses down on her.

“It’s okay, we’re right here Elena,” Ingrid promised, her own worry and stress evaporating at the content little sigh their daughter let out as she was held tightly to the Norwegians side. It was after a few minutes of holding her that Elena leaned back, looking calmer, if not a little more worried.

“‘M sorry, got lost,” Elena explained gently, her lower lip wobbling as tears brimmed in her eyes again. Ingrid shook her head slightly, her words soft and soothing.

“You do not have to be sorry, Elena. Just try to stay close to me or Mami next time, or someone you know, si? We do not want you to get lost where we cannot find you, because that would make us very scared, okay?” Ingrid explained carefully, and when she finished Elena nodded, a small smile finally appearing on her face as she settled in her mothers arms, back to the happy little girl she normally was. That was something wonderful Ingrid and Mapi both loved about their daughter being so small, how resilient she always was in situations like this.

Mapi looked back over toward Misa, her heart breaking when she saw that the tears had broken through finally, her head buried in her hands.

Elena looked from her mother to the Real Madrid goalkeeper, her little eyebrows worried together at the sight.

“Mami, is she okay?” The sandy blonde girl asked as she looked toward Misa, recognizing the signs of someone crying. Mapi looked toward her wife for a moment, and after receiving a nod of approval from the Norwegian, the Spaniard took her daughter into her arms from her fellow center back.

“That is my friend Misa,” Mapi explained to her daughter, her words slow and gentle. She stays where she is, but tries to convey her warmth to the woman regardless. “She has had a bad day, and I think she is just expressing that by crying, like you do sometimes too when you are upset,” Mapi continued, watching as her daughter stared at the goalkeeper with concern painted in her small face.

“Friend? Tía?” Elena asked curiously, clearly trying to work everything out as Mapi nodded.

“Yes Tía Misa, she is one of my very good friends. She is very kind and funny, just like you!” The Spaniard tried, and Elena looked over at her skeptically, but she chose to believe her Mami.

“Maybe we cheer up?” The little girl asked, and Mapi raised her hand to run it over Elena’s cheek gently, in a soothing manner.

“Are you sure, El? You do not have to, I know you thought she was scary earlier. I promise she is not though, she is one of Mami’s friends,” Mapi promised, not wanting to pressure her daughter to do anything she didn’t want to.

“Cheer her up,” Elena decided, wriggling her body slightly to signal her mother to move. She stiffened suddenly as she looked from Misa to Mapi, with some fear clearly still present in her tone. “You come too,” she checked quickly, relaxing back into the Spaniard when Mapi nodded her agreement to the statement.

Salma, Olga, and Marta had led Misa over to the Real Madrid bench, which was where Mapi brought Elena over to. The goalkeeper was sitting on the bench, her head in her hands as silent sobs wracked her shoulders.

Marta looked over at Mapi with a hopeful expression as the Spaniard placed her daughter on the ground, taking Elena’s hand as she led her over to Misa.

The young girl held her mothers hand carefully as she made her way up to the woman who had been wearing the angry red jersey. She was now wearing a white jacket over her kit top, and something about seeing her when Elena was in a calm state, and the lack of such an aggressive kit top helped to soothe the little girl’s initial concerns.

“Hola,” Elena said softly, her voice small but fierce in its kindness as she stopped a few steps from the goalkeeper. Misa paused, looking up carefully, unable to keep the surprise off her expression when she realized who was in front of her, looking at her carefully.

The goalkeeper looks up at Mapi in shock before she is wiping the tears from her eyes, offering a watery smile to the toddler.

“Hola,” she responded, unsure of what else to say. Elena took another step toward her, offering a small smile.

“My name is Elena,” she expressed quietly, watching as Misa rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Hi Elena, I’m Misa,” the goalkeeper repeated, trying not to burst into more tears. There was no fear in the little girl's eyes, only curiosity and kindness. Misa feels hope flying into her chest at the little girl's face, at the thought that maybe this whole situation was salvageable. Elena looks at the spot next to Misa, her eyebrows furrowing together in curiosity.

“What are those?” Elena asked gently, pointing to the abandoned goalkeeper gloves that were sitting next to the Madridista. The Spaniard reached for them, holding them out to the little girl softly.

“These are my goalkeeper gloves. Would you like to see them?” Misa asked gently, her voice hopeful. The little girl looked back at her mother for a second before releasing Mapi’s hand, nodding as she walked over to Misa, right up to where she was sitting, placing her hand on the goalkeeper's knee.

“Here, you can put them on,” Misa said softly, everyone watching with relief as the goalkeeper slid her giant gloves onto Elena’s little hands, holding them on to help to keep them from falling off.

The Real Madrid player was absolutely positive that Elena healed something within her when she giggled, leaning into Misa as she moved her hands with the gloves still over them, laughing happily at the sight. It was the goalkeeper's first real smile of the day, and her heart leapt into her throat when Elena climbed into her lap, beginning to talk her toddler nonsense to Misa, who held onto every single word she said.

The Madridista carefully held Elena to her, making sure she was secure with no chance of falling. She looked up when the toddler gasped, seeing Pina and Jana still out on the field, passing the ball listlessly back and forth as they spoke about something.

Elena turned back to Misa with excitement, the goalkeeper gloves falling off her hands in excitement.

“Come play Tía Misa?” The toddler asked hopefully, her eyes big and filled with joy at the prospect of getting to play with all of her friends. Misa looked toward Mapi, who nodded her head in agreement before she smiled brightly, agreeing with Elena.

“Come on!” Elena cheered as she took Misa’s hand after being set on the ground by the goalkeeper, and dragging the taller woman toward the younger girls.

Ingrid had come over to join Mapi, Salma, and Marta, as the right winger shook her head in disbelief. Misa was sitting criss-cross applesauce on the ground, rolling the ball toward Elena, cheering when the toddler tried to kick it.

When Elena finally managed to hit the ball back with some semblance of accuracy, Jana and Pina immediately cheered loudly. Elena giggled at both of them, smiling before she ran over to Misa, collapsing into a hug as she wrapped her arms around the goalkeeper, who hugged her back just as fiercely, a huge smile pulling at both of her cheeks.

“What is it about children that just…heals any wrongdoing?” Marta asked wistfully, and Ingrid chuckled as Mapi shook her head.

“You can’t not love them,” she acquiesced, letting out a final sigh of relief as they all moved to join the girls in playing with the toddler, who happily giggled away at all the attention raining down on her.

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid x mapi x daughter #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #olga carmona #marta cardona #misa rodriguez

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mindmelter · 1 month

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The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas

The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)

The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.

The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.

Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.

Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.

The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.

The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.

Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...

_______________________________________

Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo

Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?

Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.

Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.

Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol

Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10

Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.

Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.

Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!

Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.

_______________________________________

David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.

He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"

(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:

David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.

Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.

David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.

Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.

_______________________________________

Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.

(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:

Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.

Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.

Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.

Peter: lol

Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.

Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.

Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol

Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.

_______________________________________

Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.

He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.

(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:

Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.

Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.

Harold: This sounds like a good deal.

Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.

Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?

(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)

In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.

_______________________________________

Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.

(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:

Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.

David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!

Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.

Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.

David: Send us a video if you do.

_______________________________________

Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.

Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.

Isaac: Wow he's packing.

Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.

Harold: Holly fuck!!!

Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.

Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?

Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.

Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?

Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.

Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.

Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!

Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.

Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.

(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:

Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.

Joel: Yes sir!

Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!

Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.

_______________________________________

Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.

He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:

Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?

Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.

Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.

Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.

Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.

Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.

#bodysuit

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alex51324 · 2 years

Text

So, I decided to buy a bicycle, because work is so close to my house that it doesn’t make sense not to at least have the option of getting there without a car. I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a cheap used one since I started that job (about a year ago) with no luck.

I started looking on Amazon*, and I saw this:

(*Yes, I know, but there aren’t a lot of shopping choices where I live)

And since the point is to ride to to work, and I have a briefcase and a Big Bag of Snacks to take with me when I do that, I decided that this thing made a lot of sense. I’m a little bit of a klutz, and having my luggage between two wheels on the back seems a lot less failure-prone than having it a basket hanging from the steering mechanism. Plus, if my car breaks down, I could bring home groceries in this.

So I bought it, and now I’m looking at videos and tutorials about how to assemble and ride it, and all of them are like, “I bought this for my elderly mother,” or “I’m 75 years old,” or similar. Genuinely did not occur to me that I was not the target audience for this item, and now I’m kind of second-guessing my choice.

I guess the lesson learned today is that, while I kind of thought that I had achieved complete indifference to whether the thing I want to do is cool or not, it turns out I still have some work to do re: killing the part that cringes.

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bluberryfields · 6 months

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"David is very easy to fall in love with." - Michael Sheen

Hi. How are you? Good, I hope. Okay, so can we talk about just how fucking beautiful David Tennant is? And by “we” I mean “I” and by “talk” I mean “babble incoherently into the void”? Great! I’ll attempt to impose a bit of organization on this just to satisfy my pathological need to inflict structure on words (thanks college/job/brain), but I can’t promise much. Also, there will be A LOT of pictures and gifs. (you’re welcome?)

And this isn’t just because I am deep in the bottomless well of Good Omens fandom and that Crowley is basically the most breathtaking creature that has ever existed. Well, not just because of that.

*cue Aziraphale's "good lord" from 1793*

ANYWAY, like a lot of people, I became a fan of (i.e., fell deeply and irrevocably in love with) DT during his run as the 10th Doctor. He was young and bright and full of just about everything – joy, sorrow, wit – making him incredibly watchable. His look was also so charming: big bouncy rooster comb of hair, absurdly cheeky smile, expressive-as-fuck eyes and eyebrows, and a tall, lanky form that seemed to be made of rubber and the kind of granulated sugar that could only be found in candy from the 90s that are now banned in all first- and second-world countries.

So yeah, I was super into him and his Doctor’s adventures. And I continued to watch him in other projects and still swoon (looking at you, slutty Hamlet)

even at characters where that was not the desired reaction (fuck you, Kilgrave, you delicious monster).

I would also always become a bit (a lot) weak in the knees at his voice regardless of which accent he took on, though always preferring him doing any Scottish brogue because of fucking course.

youtube

Roll that tongue, you sexy beast.

But what I want to get into today is just how incredible he looks in the year of 2023.

He’s 52 years old and I am somehow even more attracted to him. Maybe it’s because I am myself older, and my tastes have matured alongside? I certainly do enjoy gray hair way more than I did 10 years ago.

He’s aged incredibly well, probably a combination of good genes and good health, and he’s clearly not clinging to the Hollywood idea of “youth”.

(insert obligatory grumble about the double standards of men being praised for aging and women being demonized…the potentially problematic nature of the term “aging well” in general…acknowledge this with my enlightened brain but ignore this with my slutty heart…fuck the patriarchy, etc. etc.)

He’s still tall and skinny, even gangly at times, all long arms and legs that can move in impossible directions with unfathomable grace.

His face is leaner, that incredible bone structure creating sharper edges that draw the eye. Speaking of the face, he’s got these creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes and mouth that are evidence of time spent well: smiling, laughing, living. Makes you want to trace your fingertips along each one.

Oh god that smile? Good lord. It’s weapons grade charm that can also be quite intimidating. Sweet, humble, silly, scary…full spectrum of options here! His shark smile is the definition of “irresistible” in my Dictionary of Delicious Dudes.

I am both proud of and grossed out by my own word choice.

Continuing with that face...the hawkish nose, the dimples you want to drown in, the big eyes, those motherfucking eyebrows...

I could seriously write a whole essay about those eyebrows, but I already give my therapist enough to worry about.

Oh those eyes. “Piercing” is a term usually reserved for blue eyes, but I would argue it applies to DT’s bottomless chocolate pools in that they slice through my heart every damn time.

Honorable mention does go to those Crowley snake eyes because they could have been distracting and diminishing to his overall look, but they absolutely are not.

Such a pretty shade of yellow.

Random tangent to swoon about his hands. For whatever reason, I like checking out a man’s hands, and DT’s got a set that drives me wild. I can’t even really explain why, but I just really like the way he articulates with them. Crowley is a perfect example, what with the miracle snaps, caressing globes, and holding whisky glasses. Yum.

Delicious demon digits

Fresh tangent: How does this fucker look good clean shaven, with stubble, and a goddamn beard? How is that allowed?

He's got a face that makes me wanna take up sculpting

Further, how is his fucking neck so hot? Like, seriously, show me the math. I can’t stop staring at it. And when it’s cloaked in a turtleneck? Please, sir, may I have some more?

Fuuuuuuuck

With no segue whatsoever, I am absolutely obsessed with his hair, across all contexts. Big, bold, blood-red Crowley coifs (especially in Season 2)? Check.

Proper gentleman side part? Check.

Side shave with cartoonishy springy 14th Doctor shock? Check.

Lockdown locks with and without headband? Check!

It’s a goddamn buffet of delicious options.

Oh damn speaking of that 14th Doctor look? Good fucking Christ on a buttery Ritz cracker. The whole DT collection is on display: the hair, the eyes, the bone structure, the smile, the clothes, and even the glasses!

To quote Pam on Archer, “I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! I mean, not that you would.”

Now that you (I) mention the clothes, I never cease to marvel at how he can wear pretty much anything and look amazing. Stripes, patterns, wild colors, etc. He just always looks…not exactly comfortable, but sort of at ease like the clothes were created with him in mind. And this goes across the spectrum of Casual to Costume to Promotional (e.g., interviews and premieres).

They are almost illegally cute together

We all know by now how ridiculously tight those Crowley pants are and how it influenced his signature serpentine swagger (thank you, Costume department, you’re the real heroes). That said, he and those slinky hips still looks so incredibly natural in them like they came from his actual closet.

Stupid sexy snek

And he pulls off the look of more ridiculous stuff like full Shakespearean costumes or that sad gray-hoodie-black-shorts-and-Wellington-boots combo from the first season of Staged. He somehow gives off the air of “whatever, they’re just clothes, man” while also looking like a damn model.

Georgia is a very lucky woman

Final thoughts: I know DT dislikes talking about how people think he’s so attractive because I’m sure it feels a bit icky if you just want to live your life and do your job. But my guy also clearly understands that he’s not some ghoul who has succeeded on incredible personality and acting chops alone. So, that said, maybe he'll forgive me for posting such a long, rambling, ode to him?

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sunny44 · 2 months

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My forever valentine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: just a Valentine’s Day.

I woke up to an empty and cold bed and checked the time; usually, Lewis would still be in bed, and Levi would have already left his bed and come over here, so I found it strange that neither of them was there.

I got up and opened the curtains, and the view from our window was the backyard. Lewis and Levi were just in their shorts, chasing each other, and Roscoe was barking and running along. I started laughing at the scene and then went to the bathroom to get ready and after finishing, I went downstairs to the lawn.

"Mama," he shouted and ran towards me with Roscoe, I crouched down and picked him up. "Good morning, mama."

"Good morning, baby." I kissed his forehead, and Lewis came over to where we were. "You guys woke up early today."

"Levi showed up in the room hungry, so we came to eat some fruits and play a little, enjoy the sunny day." He gave me a peck, and Levi grumbled. "You know she was mine long before she was yours, right?"

"My mama." He hugged me tightly, and I laughed.

"Well, you guys keep playing, and meanwhile, I'll have something to eat." I put him down.

I went to the kitchen and saw the countertop covered in rose petals, red heart balloons, and a breakfast ready with a card beside it.

"Happy Valentine’s Day baby, Levi and I are so lucky to have you in our lives.

We love you so much, hope you enjoy the breakfast we made for you."

Love, Lewis and Levi."

"Did you like it, mama?" I heard his voice behind me, and I turned around, seeing him and Lewis standing there.

"I love it." They both smiled.

“That’s great baby.” Lewis said and smiled.

"What are the plans for today?" I asked, starting to eat.

"We're going out for lunch, then we're going to spend the day in the yacht and at the end of the day, Levi's going to Uncle Charlie's while we have a mommy and daddy time." I smiled at him.

"Does Charles know about it or…"

"He offered."

"Okay then."

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can I have one of your strawberries?"

"Of course you can." I picked him up and sat him on my lap, handing him a strawberry.

"Do you want to be my valentine, mama?" He asked, and I melted with his soft voice and big brown eyes.

"Oh, baby, of course I want to be your valentine." I kissed his forehead.

"Wow, this boy has rizz."

"He does, you better watch your back." He laughed and kissed me.

Bonus scene!

Y/nhamilton instagram post

Liked by @lewishamilton, @yourmomuser, @charlesleclerc and other 9193810

Tagged: @lewishamilton

Y/nhamilton I have always been and will always be grateful to have you in my life, today is just another of the many Valentine's Days I will spend by your side. Thank you for being the best husband and father I could have chosen to spend my life with, I love you and I always will.

Ps: I’m giving your present after Levi goes to sleep.

@lewishamilton I’m the luckiest to have you in my life, Levi is one of the best presents you could’ve ever given me, love you babe

Also I’m very excited about this present

Liked by @y/nhamilton

@charlesleclerc happy Valentine’s Day guys, I will babysit Levi so you can give Lewis that present and don’t traumatize the poor boy

@y/nhamilton thank you uncle Charlie, I’ll drop him later

@user81 I think we’ll have another Hamilton in a few months

Lewis Hamilton instagram post

Liked by @y/nhamilton, @sebastianvettel, @georgerussel and others 9173891

Tagged: @y/nhamilton

@lewishamilton Eight years ago I made the best choice of my life, which was to chase after you and insist that you let me take you on a date. And now, years later, I'm the luckiest guy to be able to say that I'm your husband and the father of your child.

I love you and even after eight years I’m still completely in love with you.

@y/nhamilton I love you both so much, thank you for being my partner in crime

Liked by @lewishamilton

@georgerussel happy Valentine’s Day guys

@y/nhamilton thank you Georgie, happy valentines for you too

@anthonyhamilton beautiful family

@lewishamilton love you dad

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annie115 · 1 month

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Roommates Part 1 (LN4 x Reader) First Person Perspective

Summary: Reader and Lando have been friends for a while but some circumstances make them live together..

A/n: posting that again because it didn’t show on the tag page :(

Warnings: none, we‘re just getting started ;)

Word count: 1,300

It was just one of those days. I woke up this morning without being able to take a shower simply because my shower didn’t work. Without having time to solve the problem I rushed to work, desperate for a coffee and a sandwich from my favourite bakery. When I arrived at the little coffee shop, it was closed because apparently the owners were on vacation. When I arrived at work everybody needed something from me. I wasn’t able to finish the work I actually had to do, so I had to stay three hours longer.

Now, I was on my way home. I wanted nothing more than taking a shower, ordering pizza and eat it with my pyjamas on in front of the TV. But as you might think, of course my day had to get worse. My phone rang and I sighed before picking it up. “Hello?” I asked and a male voice answered. It was my landlord. “There is a pipe break in your apartment and we have to take car of that. I´m really sorry but I´m afraid you have to find a place to stay for the next one or two weeks.” I wanted to cry. It was official, today was the worst day of my entire life. Leaning back in my seat of the subway, I sighed, thinking of what to do. I couldn’t afford going to a hotel, not for that long. I had a good job, no doubt on that, but I didn’t earn that much.

I was working for McLaren for almost an entire year now. After I finished my studies in Tourism Management, I applied for the job as the hospitality coordinator and was more than surprised when I actually got it.

It was a dream job, really. It was hard work but I got to travel the world and met so many new people, some of them even became friends.

Four months ago I eventually moved to London. It was closer to the headquarters than my home town and I always wanted to live here. McLaren even supported me and paid a part of my rent for the apartment, happy that I would be closer to the company. They have a big office in London as well which made it easy for me to get to work, during the off-season or between races.

After realizing that I didn’t really have a choice, I called the first person that came to my mind. “Hey Ace, what´s up?” Lando asked when he picked up the phone. Ace. That was his nickname for me. I passed my studies with straight A´s and one day he saw my CV in the headquarters. He´s been mocking me ever since, jokingly of course.

“Lan, I just had the worst day”, I started and noticed that my voice was trembling. “Shit, what happened? Do you want to come over?” he asked with a soft voice. “Actually, could I maybe sleep over at yours tonight? I´ll explain everything then”. “Yeah, of course. Do you want me to pick you up?” “No, it´s fine, thanks. See you in a bit.” I hung up and made my way to my apartment to get some clothes.

After a few knocks, Lando opened the door and welcomed me with a warm hug. I pressed my head against his shoulder and inhaled his scent, immediately relaxing. “Come on in, are you hungry?” he asked and guided me to the living room. “I´m starving to be honest. Can we order a pizza?” I looked up with him with teary eyes and he cooed. “Of course we can”, he answered and I sat down on his couch. “What happened?” he asked while he opened the delivery app on his phone. I sighed before the words started to bubble out of my mouth. I told him about the minor incidents this morning but that the pipe break just made everything extremely worse. I must´ve looked like a little child who was complaining about something unnecessary but he just wrapped his arms around me and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek.

“You can stay here as long as you need, okay? Don´t even think about going to a hotel. I have enough space”, Lando said and you gave him a light smile. “I just don´t have a guest room, unfortunately. But my bed is big enough. Or I can sleep on the couch if you´re uncomfortable with sharing a bed..” “Lan, it´s okay thank you so much. If anyone would sleep on the couch it would be me, but I don’t have a problem sharing a bed with you”, I interrupted him, not wanting him to overthink our sleeping situation. He nodded and got up when the doorbell rang. I looked after him, noticing that he looked extremely handsome tonight. I just couldn’t quite say why. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black McLaren t-shirt but the outfit somehow underlined his muscular statue. He seemed to have a bad hair day, if that was even possible, because he was wearing a black cap backwards which, let´s be honest, is just hot by itself in most of the times. A familiar feeling was spreading between my legs and I pressed my thighs together. I had those sexual feelings for quite a while but I couldn’t risk a friendship like this with some meaningless sex, could I?

He came back and my stomach grumbled when I inhaled the delicious smell of pizza. He sat down next to me and opened the pizza box, closing his eyes. “Wait, did you not order one for you?” I asked when he handed me the box. He shook his head. “Diet, meal plan, F1 driver”, he said and I laughed. “Poor baby”, I cooed and took a bite of my pizza, looking at him teasingly. “Keep doing that and I´m gonna bend you over my knee”, he said and I almost choked on my pizza which caused him to laugh loudly. I gave him an angry look and he just smirked, giving me a smooch on my cheek.

After the most delicious pizza I´ve ever had, probably because of how hungry I was, I leaned back on the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie?” Lando asked but I just shook my head. “I think I would fall asleep after ten minutes, to be honest. Can I just take a shower and go to bed?” I asked and he laughed. “Yeah, of course. You know where the bathroom is, just make yourself a home okay?” he said and I hugged him once more before making my way to the bathroom. It was connected to the bedroom so that I was able to get my pyjama from my suitcase. I pulled it out of the suitcase and closed my eyes in disbelief. Of course. I had to pick the shortest pyjama I had. I was in such a hurry earlier, with all the plumbers working in my apartment, that I didn’t even realize which one I´ve picked. It was light pink and very pretty, but not exactly appropriate for a sleep over with your male friend. I decided that I didn’t have a choice so I grabbed it together with some fresh underwear and locked myself in the bathroom to take a shower.

Leaving the bathroom, Lando was already sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone. He was only wearing sweatpants, no shirt and I had to swallow. The next weeks could get interesting.

When he looked at me, a wide smirk spread on his face and I rolled my eyes. “Cute outfit, Ace. Wanna seduce me?” he asked and I sticked my tongue out. “I was in a hurry earlier, okay?” I simply said and got into bed. “What time are you getting up tomorrow?” I asked him. “I don´t want to wake you up”. “I usually get up at like 7, you?” he answered and I smiled. “Me too”, I said before putting my phone on the charger.

I fell asleep within seconds, exhausted from the day I had. The last thing I noticed before I entered my world of dreams was Lando´s smell and his body which was coming a little closer after he switched off the lights.

Next part

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #formula 1 #fanfiction #ln4 x reader

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sirfrogsworth · 3 months

Text

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

#photography #photo restoration

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 5 months

Text

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Shower (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: smut, roommates/friends to lovers, talk of masturbation, shower sex

Y/n’s pov

I’m not an influencer and I don’t want to be, I just so happen to be friends with the Sturniolo Triplets. I met them after my ex-boyfriend cheated and kicked me out, I had no money and nowhere to stay. I was also rather scared of my ex so I had barely any of my things due to the fear of being alone with him. I met Nick first, I was walking down the street to my car as I started to feel a panic attack coming on. I ran into him and immediately tried to apologize but I started crying instead. And with Nick, Chris and Matt weren’t far behind as within a couple minutes they were behind us, probably confused as to why their brother was hugging some random crying girl.

Nick asked me what was wrong and I basically explained everything. They introduced themselves before having a brief discussion with each other. Ultimately, they had decided I could live with them until I got back on my feet, they seemed nice enough so I agreed as I had no other options. The next day they went with me back to my old apartment to help me pick up all of my stuff. Chris had explained what they do for work and such before offering me to be their assistant for a bit, meaning I’d help them with videos by picking up stuff from them, helping come up with ideas, helping film, etc. We later had a meeting with Laura and worked out everything.

That was nearly two years ago, it was supposed to be temporary but we quickly became best friends. When I first moved in with the boys, I was very skeptical of having to share a bathroom with one of them. Luckily for me, I shared the bathroom with Matt, the neatest one of the three brothers. Matt and I have had our fair share of accidentally walking in on each out, but we always close the door immediately. Today, however, I fucked up. I just simply wasn’t paying attention, I heard the shower running but I was on the phone with my parents, who live out of state which is why I didn’t just live with them.

I was talking with my mom, getting ready to say goodbye when I walked into the bathroom. When you walk in from the door in my room, the first thing you see is our big glass shower. “Okay, bye mom. I love you too” I said as I hung up with her and looked up for the first time. I was immediately met with Matt, who hadn’t even noticed I was there, he was too busy jacking off in the shower. I don’t know why, but I closed the door with me on the inside, I just couldn’t look away. The way his tatted arm held him up against the wall while his right one was tightly wrapped his cock mixed with his low moans just made my brain short-circuit. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it, I just stood there staring.

Well, that was until Matt turned his head and smirked, “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna help me?” he asked cockily. I was in shock of being caught and could only mutter “I’m sorry” and looked up at his face. He chuckled “Well you can either stay and help or you can leave, your choice sweetheart” I walked over to the shower with a smile. I was only wearing a tshirt and panties so I got naked pretty quick. The way Matt was staring at me, made me feel some type of way. He opened the shower door and grabbed my hand, pulling me in with him.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you standing there?” he asked while pulling me closer by my hips. “I didn’t realize you were in here at first but once I did and saw what you were doing, I couldn’t look away” I blushed as Matt looked down at me. “I was so close to cumming when I saw you in here and had to stop” he said lowly, inching his lips towards my own. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, before trailing my right hand between us to start rubbing his cock. Matt pulled away and groaned, “I think you owe me a blowjob now. I wanna see you on your knees with my dick down your throat” he said while pushing me onto my knees.

I started off by teasing the tip with my tongue, giving it a few kitty licks before fully deep throating him. “Holy fuck! I didn’t expect you to start deep throating me right away, shit!” he groaned as I took him by surprise. I continued doing that until Matt unintentionally thrusted into my mouth, making me gag. “Shit- I’m sorry” Matt tried to apologize but I just hollowed out my cheeks and sucked him harder, swallowing around his tip. “C-Can I cum down your throat?” he asked breathlessly.

I replied by humming around his cock, a couple of seconds after that Matt came, loudly groaning. His cum was somehow both salty and sweet, not bitter like most guys’. Matt helped me back up and immediately pushed me up against the wall, caging me in with one arm while the other came to cup the side of my face. He pressed a needy kiss to my lips, which quickly grew into a heavy makeout. I felt his cock getting hard again against my thigh as I pulled his hair, “Are you going to fuck me, or do I have to finish myself off?” I teased.

“You’re not allowed to get yourself off anymore, that’s my job. I don’t care if you wake me up at 3am just to get you off, because I’ll do it” Matt growled, spreading my legs with his knee. He looked down at me with a cocky smile before running two fingers through my folds and pushed them into me for just a second. “So tight, you’re going to feel so good around my cock” he groaned, adding on, “Do you want me to finger you first?” with a smile. “No, I can take it. I need it now” I whine, “You need what baby?” he said with a smirk, “I need your cock in me, please Matt!” I begged him.

Matt let out a groan before lifting up my left leg with his right arm, wrapping it around his waist before placing his tip at my entrance. He looked up at me to make sure I was really okay with it, I nodded my head and he pushed himself all the way it. We both moaned as he bottomed out, “Move please, I don’t need you to be soft and gentle with me” I told him while wrapping my arms around his neck. All he said was “As you wish” before ruthlessly pounding into me, causing me to let out a couple of loud moans.

His left hand was immediately pressed over my mouth to muffle the sounds, “Shh, you have to be quiet. You can be loud the next time we have the house to ourselves” Matt groaned in my ear. He kissed down to my neck and started to suck a couple of hickies into my skin. My moans and whines were muffled by his hand but I wanted to tell him how good he was making me feel. I removed his hand for a second, “Fuck Matt! You’re so b-big, feels so good. I’m close” I moaned breathlessly before putting his hand back over my mouth.

“I want you to do something for me princess. I want you to rub your clit and cum on my cock for me” he groaned with a smile. I did as Matt said and started rubbing my clit at a fast pace and he started thrusting faster. “Be a good girl and cum for me baby” he growled in my ear before I came on his cock, hard, Matt trusted in a few more times before kissing me while he wrapped his hand around his cock.

He groaned into the kiss before throwing his head back and cumming between us. “Shit” he moaned in a very loud, high pitched tone. Matt kissed me again for a short amount of time, “You know, next time I want you to cum inside of me” I smirked. “Shut up, you’re gonna make me hard again” he laughed before he grabbed his towel, and got out. “Here you go pretty girl” he said as he handed me a towel before someone knocked on the door from Matt’s room.

“Hey Matt, are you okay? I heard you yell. Also, can I talk to you about something” it was Nick. I grabbed my clothes off the floor while Matt looked at me in fear as I opened the door to my room. Matt put his finger up, signaling he wanted to say something, “ Yeah, I’m okay. I just stubbed my toe but give me a second, I’m naked” he nervously laughed while putting his boxers on.

Matt came over and kissed me softly, then gave me a hug which is when I whispered, “You have a cute butt” with a quiet giggle. He started blushing and shook his head, walking backwards and mouthing “Text me” before I closed my door and Matt went into his. “What the fuck just happened” I thought to myself while getting dressed, looking in the mirror to assess the damage Matt did to my neck. There were multiple dark bruises that I now had to learn how to cover but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #smut #sturniolo fanfic

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https-genesis · 11 months

Text

deserving child | dad!jake x daughter!reader

Sypnosis; Whatever had your father done before you were born had nothing to do with you today, but Quaritch didn't care. Children or not, you were Jake's.

Contents; angst little comfort, typical avatar violence, drabble? extreme depictions of gore?? Jake's pov, no use of y/n,

Dictionary; sempul - dad/daddy, sa'nok - mother, tsurak - skimwing, kuru - queue, uturu - sanctuary

A/N; I hate this but anyway

Jake Sully. Failed life on Earth, dead brother. Paralyzed from the waist down, out of service. Sent to replace his brother on a military mission, Pandora. Falling for the forrest, the culture, the people... Neytiri. Even though he had taken everything from her, her sister, her father, her ikran, her people... Neytiri had faith. She fought with him. His beautiful mate... His children. His firstborn son, Neteyam, and his twin, you. Oh, how life had betrayed him. Or had he betrayed life? After all, he betrayed an entire race. Was it unfair? Had he done the good thing, or was he selfish?

Jake still remembers a quote from the Bible he had read years before his 20th birthday. Before his brother was killed on the field.

"For am I seeking the approval of man or of God? And if I am seeking the approval of man, will I still be a servant of grace?"

As Jake sat still onto the back of his tamed tsurak within the seas of the reefs, hundreds of vengeful Na'vi in the same position behind him, he thought back to fifteen years ago. He could've left with Quaritch. Be could've surrendered. Saved thousands of innocent lives and give his own. But he didn't. He chose to stay and fight, but for what?

He could clearly see your distressed faces kneeling and facing him on the Demon Ship. Quaritch and his men held you and your siblings tighly in place and the gun pressed to your temple that digged into your skin harshly.

Jake chose to stay and fight. It brought him here. His children about to get executed right in front of his helpless eyes, unable to do anything but to weep to himself like a coward.

The sound of Neytiri's distressed pleas in his ears made them ring, but he couldn't hear a single word.

Jake could see in his head the faded image of your brains splattered onto the pavement of the ship and for a brief moment he pondered if this was all a dream. It wasn't, however, you were still alive. The choice was his, he knew it well. Would Neytiri even forgive him? Would you? Would Tuk be able to pass her own Iknimaya without her father?

☆

The freezing cold metal pressed firmly against the side of your head burned like dry ice. You had seen your father use similar machinery on the field, but you had never seen it be pointed at someone else. Even less had you thought you'd be the one in this kind of situation. Quaritch had your kuru thigh in his unoccupied hand, pulling whenever your kneeling stance faltered. You could see the outline of Jake, Ronal and Tonowari from your place on the ship and the way your father's eyes drifted from you and your siblings to his weapon. Was he really considering letting himself get captured for you?

Whatever Jake was thinking was passing fast. He had no plan and you knew it. The simple look of despair on Tonowari's face told you everything. You knew not to scream out because the Avatar had warned you when your brother tried.

"One noise and I'll shoot ya', kid."

Kid. You were just a kid. Your brother and sister were just kids. And Jake stared at you like it would be the last time he'd ever do. It was ironic, really. You came to Awa'atlu seeking uturu and had to end up murdering the entirety of its residents.

Jake felt the cold breeze against his damp skin, the breathlessness of Ronal on his right. His children are about to die. You, their big sister, dying to protect them. His babygirl. The one that lit up his life when he felt he was no Olo'eyktan, no Toruk Makto.

Right. Toruk Makto. Jake is Toruk Makto. The sixth rider of Last Shadow, the one who brought the clans victory against the Sky People. He killed Quaritch once. Can he really do it twice?

It's strange to think about it now, but in this situation he wishes he was more of a father and less of a marine. Lo'ak would never forgive him. The way he treated his children like soldiers... The pain he brought upon Neytiri and the people.

Quaritch's voice brings him back.

"Clock's ticking, colonel. What's it gonna be?"

The hand that rested on his gun lowered and Jake instructed his tsurak to swim forward slowly. He doesn't want to die, but he was ready to give his life up for you.

Quaritch did too.

Payakan thought otherwise. The large beast had felt Lo'ak's anger throughout their bond. Payakan had forgotten all about friendship, but Lo'ak had brought him a sense of serenity he had just about never felt before. Seeing red as he threw itself onto the ship, Jake saw the opportunity.

should I do a part two? seems opportunistic tbh

#x reader #avatar #avatar twow #avatar twow x reader #avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #platonic sullys x reader

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calumsargwife · 9 months

Text

'my favorite part'

calum hood x fem!famous!reader

summary: you and Calum can't help but love each other on a night out.

warnings: use of alcohol and cigarettes, mentions of weed. (if i let something out let me know!)

word count: 1.4k

note: wrote this after listening to my favorite part by mac miller. this is also the first time i write something. please let me know what you guys think about this and if i should keep writing!! i hope you guys like it!! (English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors, sorry!)

The bar was full of people and good music, managing to create a unique atmosphere. You were all in the VIP sector of the place. The 5sos boys and some of them with their girlfriends. One of them was Calum, who had you under his arm in a comforting and firm way.

You raised your head slightly after letting out a big laugh at one of Ashton's jokes. You admired your boyfriend and sighed, unable to believe how much fun you were having. He looked so good, his hair was now longer, after having made the decision to no longer have those blonde highlights, leading to a beautiful and perfect length that let you admire his curls in a way you had never seen before. He had new tattoos and just the whole aura about him had become different, he wasn't a teenager anymore and he definitely didn't look like one. It was obvious that you were really enjoying this stage of him.

You briefly remember the day you met him. Both were on a red carpet at the Music Awards. You had recently released your last album and it was being a complete success. When you met Calum things were different. Your last relationship had ended a short time ago and you didn't really have in mind meeting someone new, you just wanted time where you could focus on yourself, your music and your friends, something you had been neglecting lately. However, meeting the band was something that gave your world a 360° turn. Instantly you all connected and became friends, it was inevitable. They had that incredible Australian charm in their blood that was impossible to resist, not that you're complaining either.

After that night on the red carpet, you hadn't seen the boys again. There were tours in between, which kept you two apart for six months. It's not like you guys kept in touch, you just hit it off one night and became instant friends, but that was it. Or so you thought. After what seemed like an eternity, you met again at the party of some famous person that you can't remember now.

After much back and forth for about a year and a half, you and Calum finally started dating. It was a surprise for you guys, seriously. Calum didn't really think about falling in love again after many broken hearts, he was at that stage where he hated relationships and would rather have casual encounters than have to be vulnerable with someone again. That's why he was so surprised after realizing that he had feelings for you. In this time you had gotten to know each other and the rest of the boys, becoming a constant in their lives.

And here he was, all head over heels for this girl, he couldn't believe it.

But he was so, so happy. Every time he thought about it he just couldn't help but feel this burning feeling inside of him, and he loved the burning, he never loved something so much. And he was glad he finally let these walls he built around him fall. Calum was scared, completely scared. He was so afraid of breaking apart again, he didn't think he could bare another heart break, it would kill him. Especially this one. But after a while, he realized this was the right choice. You were the right one.

And that brings us to today, 5sos had just released their new album, Youngblood. Now everyone was in this bar for a celebration and they really were having one of the nights of their lives. You had drunk a little and so did Calum, which now was making you feel a bit tipsy, but nothing too over the edge. Some of the other guys were already pretty wasted and it was almost 3 am.

You and Calum had dedicated yourselves to making your relationship of almost a year very private, leaving only what had to be known, that you were together.

And you were happy with that, you were really glad that you could have something in your life to just yourself. Your and the guys life was sometimes way too public and you didn't like it at all. So, having your relationship under your control was something incredibly refreshing. You loved Calum and you would protect what you guys have against everything. He was your favorite part of the day and you wouldn't let someone take that away.

Suddenly, you heard the song changing in the background. You smiled at what it got to your ears. 'My Favorite Part' by Mac Miller and Ariana grande was playing right now, and you couldn't believe the timing.

You smiled softly at the feeling. This song has been your favourite since it dropped, loving the way it captured what falling in love the right way was, something that was slow and very nice, without the need to be rushed. The same way it felt for you to fall in love with Calum. He was just so right. The nostalgia of the song came to your mind.

"This life can be so hard, I'd rather talk about you..." You whispered the words of the song in Calum's ear and looked at him with a vague smile due to the alcohol but at the same time with one that looked so in love, you hung a little from his neck with your arms in order that only he can hear you. Calum smiled and lowered his head to the ground as he tried not to blush. For some reason, you always had that effect on him. He had a cigarette and a glass with a drink in the same hand, while his other hand had been on your waist since the night began.

"You just don't know how beautiful you are..." You kept singing in his ear softly. "And baby that's my favorite part..." He looked at you and you had a wild smirk on your face. Calum really doesn't realize the effect on people (especially on you) that he had, he didn't understand how gorgeous he was. He looked at you while raising both of his eyebrows, giving you the 'oh, really?' teasing face that he makes way too often. You nodded at his questioned face with the most confident smirk.

The cigarette and weed smoke in the air made it all make even more sense. Calum smiled at you, he was so in love that was honestly so breathtaking. He sometimes had to gasp for air whenever he was with you. And he loved it, he loved the fact you were his oxygen.

You guys kept singing the lyrics to each other. Calum took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his mouth between the two of you, practically in your face. It was something that for some reason you enjoyed too much. You found it hot and you were not ashamed of it.

Once the song came to an end you smiled at each other and he put his hand on your jaw then leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. A hot but calm kiss at the same time, which was the vibe of that moment. You felt his rings when he lowered his hand to your neck, you guys separated for a second and you admired the tattoos on his arm, loving each one of them and then breathed his cologne. God, you were feeling good.

The night continued for you two, always in that comforting and good vibe. You kept smiling at each other all night and really couldn't keep your hands off each other, always in need of contact.

Who could have told you that the next day, all of Twitter was going to be crazy about a video that someone had taken of you at the bar from last night. That video contained the exact moment you and Calum were singing to each other and then kissing at the end. The song sounds very clear in the background, making it a whole scene. At first it bothered you, but after watching the video, you really couldn't find a reason to be angry anymore. You two looked so good and it showed how wrapped around each other's fingers you were. You loved the look Calum had and also loved the stupid smile on your face. It was honestly a masterpiece.

#calum hood x y/n #calum hood x reader #calum x reader #calum blurb #calum imagine #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos blurb #5sos fic #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #Spotify

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httpknjoon · 8 months

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 10.5

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 3.5k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | more angst haha I swear rainbows and sunshine are coming soon. icymi, I made a spotify playlist for this series! it gets updated every time I write for mc and taehyung. expect it to be angsty haha! anyways, enjoy reading this one. let me know y'all's thoughts.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

Gail, your supervisor, looked at you while holding the paper you gave her just minutes ago. Your heart beats heavier and louder as you stood in front of her. Gail was never a terrifying supervisor to you. She was always considerate. But this thing that you’re doing right now is still nail-biting. You came to work early today just so you can talk to her. No one knew about your plan except you.

“Yes,” you replied, unconsciously fiddling with the fabric of your scrub pants.

She stared at you for what felt like a minute. You cannot even read what’s going on in her head. Her eyes wore no emotions and her lips formed a thin line. She moved her sight to the paper again. You felt like you needed to say something.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry if it seemed too soon.”

“Oh, it’s fine. We all know two weeks is the minimum time for notices like this.” Finally, her lips broke into a small smile, easing you for a little, as she looks at you again. “May I ask your reason for making this decision?”

You didn’t hesitate on telling your true reason, “I need to take a break and a new environment due to recent circumstances.”

That was two days ago. Gail approved your resignation letter after that exchange and was supportive of your decision. She said you can come to her anytime if you need a recommendation letter for your next employer. Your two-week notice began that same day without anyone– even Jisoo or Julia– knowing. You don’t want to disturb Jisoo because she’s already stressed enough with her wedding.

“You coming home?” Julia asked as you two get your bags on your lockers.

You two just finished your graveyard shift at seven o clock. You just had a twelve-hour shift but you’re still off to somewhere.

You shook your head, “Not yet. I’m taking a train to Incheon.”

Her head tilted in your direction, “What? Why? That’s like an hour's ride from here.”

“I’ll be checking this studio apartment unit I saw online,” you answered like it’s not a big deal.

Her eyes widened almost instantly, “You’re moving?!”

You quietly nod your head to her surprised question. A hint of excitement was also obvious in her tone.

“That’s far! Have you told Jisoo yet?”

“Nope.”

“How about Taehyung? Is he going to travel from there to his shop every day? And the house–”

“I still haven’t talked to him about it.” you cut her off calmly before she can ask anything else.

Julia was quick to understand what you meant. Your lips formed into a small, sad smile after saying that. Julia just waved her hand back when you waved yours as you bid goodbye. She instantly knew that moving to a new place isn’t the only life-changing choice you’re making in your life right now.

It was a couple of days before Jisoo and Namjoon’s special day, exactly three days in your two-week notice. Raindrops just happened to visit every night you have a late night shift. You didn’t notice the weather until you heard the roars of thunder while you were in the shower.

You were busy the whole day in your room. Just cleaning up, feeling like a robot, numbly working so much but eating less. You only had a late breakfast. Taehyung made you buttermilk waffles with fruits, leaving it in a Tupperware on your kitchen counter. You ate and made sure to leave no dishes in the sink. Like a ghost, that’s how you liked to describe your recent presence in your shared home.

You find yourself busy since morning, removing photos in the frames you displayed before and folding some of your clothes from your closet to your luggage. Then, you prepared for your eight-hour shift. Just five minutes past ten in the evening, you walked out of your room ready to go.

“Hey.”

You saw Taehyung sitting on one of the chairs on your kitchen counter. A thin sheet of smoke from the cup on the table showed he was drinking tea.

“Hi.” you greeted him shortly.

The shorter your response is, the smaller the chances of small talk, you thought.

“I packed you some light snacks there. Just some granola and fruits. Also, yogurt.”

You want to feel something. The joy and giddiness you always have when Taehyung does nice things for you, pre and post-accident. Something that will make your day and shifts your mood. But you almost felt nothing now.

“It’s raining hard tonight,” he mumbled, looking outside the small window in your kitchen.

“It is.”

You tried to busy yourself with putting the snacks he prepared in your bag, not even looking up at him. Not until he said,

“Can I walk you to the stop?”

Finally, you looked at him. He cannot assume if you’re surprised based on your expression because your face remained blank. No emotions at all.

He continued, ”I just want to make sure you’ll get to work safely.”

“Okay.” Whatever you say.

“You know, you don’t have to do any of this.” You were just looking ahead as you resumed, “You’re not obligated to do anything with me.”

“I wanted to do this.” He replied.

You knew he was looking in your direction through your peripheral vision. As much as you wanted to believe his sincerity, you don’t want to get your hopes high. He was just being nice. That’s it.

Before you go, he handed you another extra umbrella. No one said a single word. You sat away from the windows, just at the back of the bus. Because you knew damn well that you might feel guilty if you see Taehyung frozen on the same spot, waiting for your bus to leave.

“Wake her up. I’ll take out our stuff.”

Jimin unfastened his seatbelt after parking the car. Taehyung turned his head back to your direction. You have been sleeping throughout the whole night and none of them bothered to wake you up when they had a quick stopover since they knew you came from an overnight shift earlier. He got off his seat, gently closing the passenger door.

“YN….” he softly calls for your name.

It took him two more calls before you hummed and moved on to your seat. Your eyes were still closed as you respond to him, still half-asleep,

“What?”

“We’re here…”

Slowly, your eyes opened. You blink a couple times before rubbing your eyes as you sat back properly. Slightly confused, you looked around. He watched as you slowly get back to your senses and realize that you have arrive at the event venue.

“Oh…” you said under your breath. You ran your hand on your dress to smoothen out the tiny wrinkles. Unexpectedly, you turned to Taehyung, “How do I look? Did my hair–”

“Lovely,” he murmured.

For a moment there, you thought you heard a small beat inside your chest. You stare at each other’s eyes and the first thing you sense was familiarity. Then, longing. Then, abruptly, you looked away. Taehyung wasn’t sure if your eyes began glistening before you blinked away. He was about to ask when Jimin spoke outside the car,

“Is she awake? Let’s go. The rehearsal is starting soon, we still have to get these bags in the hotel.”

Thank God, you found a slight relief. Taehyung moved out of your way to let you get out of the car. Minutes later, you, Taehyung, and Jimin are walking to the entrance of the hotel when someone greeted you.

“Oh, my god. Hi!”

Yoonji, Jisoo’s cousin and also one of the bridesmaids, greeted you on your way into the small hotel meant for guests. He recognized her as one of the girls who brought you home after Jisoo’s bachelorette party. You two hugged for a quick second while she smiled politely at Taehyung and Jimin, who introduced himself.

“You can just go tell the receptionist your names. Then, they will say what’s your room number,” she instructed in a little hurry. “The rehearsal will be starting in a few minutes!”

She was pulled by another woman, who you assume is Jisoo’s other relative. You followed what she said and the receptionist was pleasant when she asked for your names. After that, she handed out two keys.

“Room 23 is for Mr. Park. Room 27 is for Ms. YN and Mr. Kim.” Kath, the said receptionist, said.

Your jaw almost dropped while Taehyung froze. Jimin, who stood between you two, immediately noticed your silent reactions. He took the initiative to ask,

“Uhm… May we request another room?”

Kath shook her head, “I’m sorry, sir. But the Kims were the ones who arranged everyone’s rooms.”

You cleared your throat as your brain began processing again, “But do you guys have other available rooms that we can pay for?”

“We’re currently fully booked, miss. We assume the Kims already booked enough rooms for their relatives and other important guests. So we had our further rooms booked for other visiting guests in town.”

After squeezing your eyes shut while listening to her explanation, you just forced a smile, “Okay, we understand. Thank you.”

Your rooms were on the upper floor and there were only stairs. Taehyung offered to carry your small luggage for you but you declined. Both men could not tell if you were pissed as you kept a straight face until you and Taehyung stood in front of the twenty-seventh room. He unlocked the door for you two.

“Hm.”

You unconsciously let out a heavy sigh as you and Taehyung scanned the whole room with your eyes. The room was not that… spacious. But it has what a guest needs. A king-sized bed, closet, own bathroom, a table and a chair, and flat-screen television mounted on the wall for entertainment. Plus, a big window with big curtains.

“You know, maybe I can just go to Jimin’s,” Taehyung, who’s standing behind you, suggested.

But you looked at him, “Do you want to?”

“What?” he blinked, maybe he misheard it.

“Do you want to go there? I mean, this is a king-sized bed. I’m fine sharing it, less hassle. We can put a divider or something.” you recommended, pointing to the bed.

“Are you okay with that?”

You nod, “Yeah. Are you?”

“Okay.” Taehyungs nods too.

“Okay,” you whispered.

It was silent again after that. The atmosphere was weird and maybe suffocating. You are starting to hate this kind of air every time you’re with him. It’s encouraging the decisions you’ve been thinking about lately. Breaking the ice, you looked up at him.

“Uhm, we should go. The rehearsal’s starting soon.”

“Thank you for helping make tomorrow the perfect day for us.”

The wedding rehearsals earlier were quick as it was not that complicated. Everyone was later invited to the rehearsal dinner. Your seats were pre-arranged. So of course, you two sat next to each other.

Jisoo was in the middle of her dinner toast when Taehyung took a glance at you. Your sights were focused on the couple who stood in the middle of the event. Your lips formed into a relieved smile as your eyes brighten.

"Tonight, we appreciate you, the people we treasure the most. We toast to having the best wedding team ever!"

Everyone raised their glasses of wine and champagne and took a sip from their drinks. Then, everyone began talking to someone while enjoying the rest of the dinner. Everyone around you and Taehyung is having fun conversations. Even Jimin, who is now talking to some guests. After stealing another glance in your direction, he thought of making a conversation with you.

“I’ve never seen Namjoon that happy,” he mumbled as he looked at his friend.

Unexpectedly, you responded, looking at the couple, “So is Jisoo. Look at their smiles.”

“How did they meet?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s a really good meet-cute.” you chuckled, shoulders visibly relaxing.

Then, you began talking about the beginning of your friends’ love story. You were proud as you shared that you were present when they first met. And after days of getting blank stares and rejections from you, Taehyung can see a genuine smile on your face again. He can listen to more of your stories if that is what it takes for you two to be okay again.

The conversation plays out until you and Taehyung decided to get out of the event since guests began going too. From Jisoo and Namjoon’s meet-cute, the topic jumped to how you had a couple of double dates with them. You were enjoying telling stories that you almost forgot about that gloomy feeling you’d been having in you for days now until Taehyung asked another question while you two stroll your way back to your shared room.

“Maybe we could do that again with them?”

You turned your head at him, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

“Double dates. It seemed like we had fun with them,” he replied, hands in his pockets as he smiled softly.

Then, once again, these heavyweights slowly landed on your shoulders and you can feel something breaking inside of you, making you clutch your palm on the skirt of your dress. Taehyung quicking took notice of you pausing and looking at him with lips slightly parted and the joy in your eyes faded, worrying him.

“Hey? You okay?” he asked gently, looking at you.

With that, you snapped out of your trance and nods, “Yeah, sorry.”

God! Get ahold of yourself. You remind yourself. You remembered your things packed back at home and the resignation you signed days ago. You already had a plan and this sudden idea from Taehyung should not change any of it. Unconsciously, you let out a sigh. Taehyung’s heart beats faster.

“Did I say anything wrong?

“Oh, no.” you forced a smile as you took steps with him to the stairs. You let out an awkward chuckle, “I just don’t think we can do double dates anytime soon.”

“Ah, yeah.” he went along.

And it’s silent all over again. But this time, there was this air between you two. You both can feel that someone wants to say something to another. But, both of you two can’t. With every step closer to your room, the air gets thinner and thinner. And when you stood outside your door,

It shattered.

“Can we talk?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Both you and Taehyung said at the same time. You two were staring at each other when you said that. And when you two realized what happened, you looked away with an airy chuckle. You opened the door and he followed inside.

“So… are we going to talk here or outside?” Taehyung spoke when he saw you opening the curtains, letting the fresh air get into the room.

“Uhm, here’s fine,” you replied before inhaling again on the small balcony.

The original plan was to let Taehyung know about your plans after this event. But you just can’t keep it anymore. Especially after you reacted with Taehyung offering ideas like double date again. Taehyung wanted to wait too and he was willing. But he felt he needed to say what he wants now. It might help your relationship at the moment.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You sat on the soft mattress of the bed. Taehyung took a seat on the chair next to the table, just a few feet away from you. He watched as you bit your lip, looking down. You fiddled with your fingers and he can see your chest heave. You were visibly nervous and it makes him wonder what are going to say.

“YN–”

“Can–”

He nods at you to continue and you did, “I was just going to ask if I can go first.”

“Sure,” he answered, leaning back in the chair.

“Okay. Thank you,” you said every word with the heaviest sigh since you find your heart pounding like crazy just now.

With all the will in your body, you focused your sight on the man in front of you. His hair was pushed back and the first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. His eyes gaze back at yours, you wished you can just communicate with him through this since it might be easier. But you can’t. And within seconds, you can feel the tears at the edge of your blurring sight.

“Taehyung…I… Uhm…” you stuttered when you see a flicker of concern in his eyes. But you continued, “I’m leaving.”

He just stared after you said that. Then, you read the confusion on his face, “What?”

You gulped, “I’m leaving this… arrangement … or whatever this is called. Us. I’m leaving us.”

Your hands shake while waiting for a reaction from him when you said that. But you cannot read his face anymore so you went on.

“I’m moving out of the house. I already looked for an apartment. I know, the house is our shared property. We can talk about the whole splitting thing when I–”

“Are we breaking up?” Taehyung finally said something. His eyebrows were scrunched and his eyes were surprised. But his tone was in between shock and sadness. And maybe mad. You cannot tell.

“Is there even any relationship to break?”

That was the first thing that came into your mind and you barely thought about it as you said it. You matched his tone. Now, it feels like you two were overwhelmed with emotions and the silence that followed after your question helped to at least make you calm a little.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is not off his peak of emotions. But he was quiet. He doesn’t know what to feel. He cannot tell what he’s been feeling. Even after what happened these past few days, he didn’t expect to hear this from you.

“You don’t know me, Taehyung. I’m basically a stranger to you and I’m more than grateful to you for at least letting me take care of you after the accident. But it’s not your obligation to be with me just because I was your girlfriend. The last thing that I want is to force you to stay committed–”

You were ready to end the conversation just like that. But Taehyung cut you off,

“What if I want to? What if I want to be with you now?”

“What?”

You didn’t sound happy. Because you’re not. Taehyung sensed it, you felt quite the opposite when he said that. Still, you stumbled with words.

“Wh– No! N-No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he said like you were challenging him to say it.

You remained unhappy and let out a firm, “No.”

“I do. Why do you keep–”

“Because that would just make me feel shit! You only want me now because you learned what happened between you and Lily!”

Taehyung’s mouth immediately ran dry. For the first time ever since the accident, you raised your voice at him. It’s like watching a volcano explode. Warm drops of tears flow down your cheeks. Your lips were quivering as you continued. Your shoulder shakes as you continued,

“You can’t just choose me like that! That’s fucking unfair! I– I’ve been feeling nothing but awful and lonely for the longest time. I can’t even sleep without having a nightmare about that night! And now that I’m trying to do something for myself, you’re telling me you want to be with me? Right after talking to your ex behind my back? The ex that you originally remembered as your girlfriend? Taehyung, that’s just so fucking unfair.”

You remained seated on the bed but your hand was clutching on the sheet under you. Your voice became weaker as you reached the last sentence. Wiping your tears, you cleared your throat,

“If you want me now, that would make me feel like someone you just kept around as a second choice. You know?”

Hearing that, Taehyung instinctively shakes his head, “No, it’s not like that–”

“But that’s how I feel right now,” you confessed in a sad whisper. “And I’m scared that the longer I try to keep this relationship, the higher the chance I’ll lose myself in the process.”

That was another confession. After countless talks and reflection with yourself and your close friends, you knew that sooner or later you have to go for your own. It just took you long to accept it and take a step. You were hopeful then.

It took some minutes for someone to say something again. There was like a big question in the room with you, asking, what’s next. Taehyung who remained speechless in the same chair, just watched you quietly. While you got up from the bed and reached for your phone and room keys.

“Five years was a lot to be missed and forgotten, Taehyung. I just think that if we go on our separate ways, you can focus on exploring what you lost without the pressure of being committed to me. And I can try to focus on myself again.”

taglist rules

this series' taglist is currently under-construction and renovation lol reply if you want to be added

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12

#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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souvenir116 · 2 days

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okokok i don’t know if any of this will make sense but i feel like you are someone who would be able to see the vision.

_____________________________________________

imagine, just for a second, having someone who’s life mirrored yours. it was so similar yet so different, everything being the same on the surface but if you look a bit deeper it’s flipped.

imagine you are born, first, of course, and you are destined. you were born to win. and he is born, sixteen days later (that number being the one he will race with) and he doesn’t know it yet, but he is predestined. even though you were first, you were bred for this, he was born screaming, red in the face, red to the core. rosso corsa.

imagine you stay home from school one day, lying about not feeling well. your father takes you to a track, and you watch your godfather, your mentor, the red cape already heavy on his shoulders (and yours, but not yet. for now it still rests with him). you fall in love. and somewhere, miles away, he grows up among the greats. his father is one of them, he toddles among them, shoes too big but no choice but to make them fit.

imagine you are ahead. and suddenly, he appears, fighting you tooth and nail. this prodigal boy, who looks so sweet, is frothing at the mouth, hungry for a taste of victory. today, you taste it, and he sees red (he only ever sees red, he was only ever meant to see red) and he pushes you aside. the taste of victory is ripped from your mouth, still staining your teeth, and your father screams at you. but he doesn’t taste it either.

imagine being scared. you have known this one dream, known it for years (you may not have been born for it, but your first breath was made to let you scream red). the cape on your shoulders is heavy and uncomfortable, it wasn’t yours to wear yet. you have no choice. he sits among men, a child, and sixteen days seems so much longer now. you carry the one you looked up to, forced to look down on his grave, unsure if the cape you wear was stained red with his blood.

imagine you are flying. you are fighting among men, you clawed your way forward. not all the way to the top, not yet, as that step is held by two men who used to be brothers but now can’t look each other in the eye. that doesn’t matter, because today you stand on the top of the world, looking down on everyone. the shoes that were once too large pinch in the toes, suddenly restricting you. in the back of your head you know that he stood here yesterday, too, rained in victory and clutching to a promise that it was all worth it. but, sixteen days have turned into a three year gap, because you were born for this.

imagine you are where you were predestined to be. shroud in red, wrapped in a metal coffin with your stained cape tucked surely around you. your father is dead, not knowing of the lies you told him. it’s okay papa, you say, i’m here now. i’m in the red. you’re fighting with the greats, with him. and he fights you, the same way he did back when you were angelic and he would get screamed at. this time, he tastes the victory, and you look on in anger. you have never been more hungry.

imagine feeling bigger than everyone but also the smallest in the room. you ripped the trophy away, not from him, but you have it now. your father doesn’t cry, but he doesn’t yell either, and that must be enough. the song of your people has never sounded so good and so hollow too. that night, blinded by a feeling you don’t understand and too much of everything else, you see him. you call for him, looking down from above (of course, it has always been this way). he calls back.

imagine clawing forward with all of your strength and feeling better each day. imagine looking down on him (looking up to him, too) and being gripped by a knowingness. this is not yours, not yet, but in the moment you can enjoy it. when he looks up again you his eyes sparkle (they never sparkle for anyone else). three years ago you were never hungrier, the red taking over and spilling from your core all the way to the tips of your fingers and the soles of your feet. today, showered in victory, the red only adorns your clothing (and the cape, which grows heavier and lighter each day). he is blue, he is always blue. his blue carries hints of red though (it’s a mirror, he is your mirror. you are his mirror).

imagine knowing that everything is connected. the number sixteen, a shared hunger, red. maybe it is a red string, wound before you were born to win and before you were born predestined. maybe you were born for each other.

Excellent said anon, I totally see your vision. 16 days apart turning into a 3 years gap, out of reach, Max getting his first race win in Spain exactly at the same weekend Charles took his first with Ferrari in GP3, Max recommending Charles to the team for his seat before leaving GP3 and moving into F1 when Charles has to go through all junior categories, but nonetheless, Max saying "I always thought that, if I'd make it to F1, Charles would also make it."

"It’s never been a surprise to me that charles is sitting here - ... It’s not a surprise that we are sitting here together.”

Because Max knew, he always knew Charles' potential and that's why he always rates Charles high, that's why he is along very few people Max rates, but also, Max waited him to get to F1. For 3 years until it happened. To race with him. To race against him. He believed in Charles.

Max is the very same person who always talks about retirement, but even back then in 2019, he dared to compare him and Charles to Lewis and Seb's rivalry, and said "I think we have at least 15-20 years of racing ahead of us."

Same goes for Charles. He'll always put his battles with Max as his best races, back then, Silverstone 2019 even they were both not fighting for a win, or a close date, in Vegas.

And even if I don't want to mention his name, you know someone said: These two will fight forever. They will fight even in F1.′

Max and Charles are intertwined in a way that sometimes I can't even comprehend, the contrast between the red and the blue, the connections with the numbers, their loyalty and endless devotion for their teams, the hunger, they raced together in their whole childhood and now they are racing in F1, the pinnacle of motorsports, where they both dreamed to be, worked for it all their life and I think it's so precious.

One thing about them though, no matter how much they respect or value each other, they'll fight tooth and nail on the track, the hunger will never fade away, that's what I admire the most about them.

#also #'two men who used to be brothers but now can't even look at each other in the eye'#goes hard...#Max terrorizing the grid and getting warned to not get in the way of championship battle between Nico and Lewis #He had always been that man...#thank you for that beautiful ask <3 #so so poetic #loved it lots #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #lestappen lore

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mandoalorian · 6 months

Text

tolerate it [javi peña x gn!reader]

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky…”

Warnings: this is not nice, I'm sorry. This is pure, unadulterated angst. Based on the song tolerate it and You’re Losing Me by Miss Swift herself. Word count: 2000approx. Author’s note: one thing about me is I come back every 6 months, drop a one-shot, and then leave again. Was feeling a bit of seasonal depression today. I don’t enjoy fall as much as the rest of the world, it seems, but here is an autumnal fic to get your spirits going. Masterlist Ko-fi

Fall.

Two take-out cups of piping hot Colombian ground coffee warming up your bare hands, because you thought it was too early for gloves, and the trees standing naked and tall with crusty red leaves blanketing the damp ground beneath your chunky boots. Holding the newspaper in the crook of your elbow, you sigh as you feel rain begin to fall from the grey clouds above. You pick up the pace, striding through the swarms of busy people doing their seasonal shopping, just wanting to get back home dry.

Your wishes weren’t commanded and you stumbled through the front door of your townhouse sopping wet, hair stuck to your face and mascara now three inches down your cheeks. You put the coffee cups on the dining room table along with the newspaper and took off your coat. At some point, Javier came in and sat down at the table. His fingers pinched at the corners of the paper. The pages were ripped and wet and the ink was bleeding into an incoherent smudge on the front page. Javier opened the lid of his coffee and took a sip before immediately scrunching up his face and putting it back on the table. You turned to face your partner, only to be met with his lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed together in disdain. You looked at him, helpless and apologetic.

“What’s wrong now?” You huffed, searching for answers in his empty brown eyes. You were tired of asking the question.

“It’s cold,” He muttered, his eyes not leaving yours as he awaited an explanation like he was owed it. His words are blunt and sharp but you have no choice other than to take his indiscretions on your shoulder.

But instead, you offered him nothing short of a scoff as you emptied the pools of water from your boots. The storm outside was loud and persisted with long wails and cries. In silence, you sat next to Javier at the table, and in spite, drank your cold coffee.

After a few moments, you smiled to yourself, wanting to lighten the mood and remembering something that you had seen on television a few days ago. “You know, in California, iced coffee is a thing? Yeah, that’s how they prefer to drink it over there.”

Javier grunted in acknowledgement, leaning back on his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

Your eyes flicked between the oak wood dining table, and the way you had set it so beautifully with your fancy China and centrepiece. The empty vase waiting for a fresh bunch of flowers stood tall and was gleaming after you’d spent a good chunk of your day cleaning and polishing it. A single, pumpkin-scented candle flickered in between you and Javier, your gaze fixated on the dancing ember. Finally, you looked back at Javier, who was taking shallow breaths as he awaited you to pay him attention.

When you fail to do so, it causes a problem. “I have to get to the office,” he announced after a few minutes of silence.

“But it’s a Saturday,” you replied. Ever since Javier got his big promotion, it meant he could do fewer hours and stop working weekends. He hadn’t gone to the office on a Saturday in nearly two years. Javier stood up and put on his leather jacket, the same one he’d kept from the 70s. He still rocked it, of course, but in this climate, it just wasn’t smart. “You’re going to need something warmer than that jacket, you’ll freeze to death.”

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor, and went to walk to the bedroom, finding a coat for Javier to wear. You picked one out that you knew he hated. It was long and plaid and not his style at all, too ‘modern’, he called it, but it was the only thing that would stop him from catching a cold. You grabbed a pair of gloves and a scarf and walked back out, following him into the hallway. He waited for you and stood leaning against the door frame, looking at the outside world ahead of him.

Sure enough, the storm had cleared up in a matter of minutes and golden rays of sunlight peeked through the now white clouds. Your heart fell, deflated when Javier refused to wear the coat and the scarf you’d picked out for him.

“The gloves, at least,” you begged him, your eyes wide and glazed with unshed tears that you didn’t realise you were holding back. The air was thick with flaws and indecisions. Javier felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he read your expression and took the gloves from you, shoving them in his jacket pocket, a silent promise that he might just put them on later if he remembered.

“Will you be home for dinner?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Javier placed a chaste kiss atop your head. “I love you.” You promised him, but the words were lost on him.

“See you later,” he replied, before pulling away and walking over to his truck.

You’d normally watch him get in and drive away but this time, you shut the door before he even stepped off the patio and sauntered into the living room where you slouched onto the couch, hung your head low and closed your eyes. Darkness. You wondered how long you could keep fighting this. You were so tired of giving your all, only to be met with so little appreciation back. What was once the richest of love had turned cold and empty. You gave him endless empathy and he was killing you.

Javier pulled up outside of Luna Azul, his favourite bar. He hated this. He didn’t like lying to you, but he just needed to get away. He pulled out a cigarette and rested it between his lips, pushing the front door open and immediately taking a seat at the bar. Lighting the cigarette, he took a deep inhale of the nicotine, letting it sting his throat before exhaling. He loved you, he really did. He didn’t remember a point in time when things shifted, he didn’t understand why things had changed so much. You were still his person, his soulmate, he knew he’d never find anyone else like you, but there was just something missing.

“Hey Javi, why the sad face?” Elza, the barmaid asked, already pouring him a whiskey on the rocks, his usual order. “Did someone die?”

Javier feigned a smile before downing his drink. “Rough day.”

“Ah,” Elza said softly. “Trouble in paradise?”

The words made Javier wince. He gestured for another drink, of which Elza promptly poured him. “I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Javi,” Elza frowned. “You deserve better.”

Javi’s frown deepened. He swirled the whiskey as he processed Elza’s words. He really didn’t believe that he deserved better, Hell, he barely believed that he deserved you, and you were more than good enough. You were perfect.

And suddenly, for Javier, it all made sense. He was damaged goods. All those years in the DEA, fighting in a war… that’s what had changed Javier. The years of trauma that he’d never confronted… never got help for. He had hidden his feelings, fought his nightmares and pretended like they didn’t bother him. He’d come this far, he wasn’t scared… he couldn’t be scared, he wasn’t allowed to be scared. He had to be strong, brave, get over it. Javier downed his second whiskey, his skin getting white hot as realization gushed over him. Elza filled his glass up with a third, watching the agent intently.

You weren’t the one who changed, he was, and it took him this long to realise. It was all becoming so clear now, how hard you had been trying and how he hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ in six months. Javier’s stomach was in knots, he didn’t know how or why you’d stayed this long when he had given you nothing in return for your efforts. Impulsively, Javier downed the third whiskey.

Something had to change. He had to change—get better. He knew now that was the only thing that would fix the relationship he’d been taking for granted. He had to go home and apologise. He had to make things right before it was too late. Javier stubbed out the butt of the cigarette and stood up abruptly, only to be met with ruby-red lips crashing down on his hard. Teeth biting down on Javier’s lower lip, Javier let out a small groan. He hadn’t been kissed in so long. But these weren’t your soft, sweet lips. Javier pulled away, eyes widening when he saw Elza standing in front of him with a smirk.

Javier rubbed at his lips in an attempt to wipe away any traces of infidelity. This is not what he wanted or needed right now. He had to get home and fast. Without sparing a single word to Elza, Javier dived out the door and jumped into his pickup truck.

Grey clouds gathered outside as Javier jogged up the driveway, an indication of another storm. You were cooking when Javier arrived home. You were so surprised to hear the front door open as he’d only been gone for half an hour or so. You’d been thinking hard and decided that if tonight wasn’t any different than previous nights then that would be it. You'd be out the door. The thought of it was soul-crushing because you wanted to marry this man. But you couldn’t take it anymore. Fighting with all your strength and might only to be ignored.

“Hermosa,” Javier greeted, exasperated and breathless. If your eyes weren’t immediately drawn to the remnants of red lipstick on his lips, you might have noticed his tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He’d been crying all the way home, crying for being so stupid and reckless for all these months, for not taking care of himself, but most importantly, not taking care of you.

Your heart plummeted in your chest and you dropped the wooden spoon that was in your hands. It clattered on the floor, the noise making Javier jump, but you stood there, still and unwavering. Silent tears began to stream down your cheeks and you couldn’t strain your gaze away from your boyfriend who was smelling thick of alcohol and had another woman’s lipstick on his face. That was it.

He had dealt his final blow.

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its been years since I've redone my masterlist so im starting again from scratch. if you see this and want to be added, let me know.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 9 months

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hi derin! i’ve been following you for a little while, and also bemoaning the nature of publishing fiction (indie or trad) for a little bit longer than that, and i only just realized today that…of course web serials are a thing i can also do!

i really love the idea of publishing serially (though i’m not totally sure i CAN, i’d like to try), so while i add this to my list of potential paths, do you have any advice for getting started? building an audience? marketing? figuring out if writing/publishing this way will work for you to begin with?

i know that’s a lot of questions, and you don’t have to answer all of them! i’m throwing spaghetti at a wall out here. i hope you have a good day though, and thanks in advance!

Getting started in web serial writing

Web serial writing has the lowest barrier of entry of any major method of publishing your story. You can literally just start. There are two steps:

start writing your story

decide how/where you want to publish it

The writing part, I assume you have handled. The important thing to note here is that you gotta see the project through. Start and don't stop until you're done. For publishing, you have a few options:

1. Publish on a website designed for web serial novels

There are a few of these around, they're usually free to publish on (although most offer a paid account to give you ad space or boost you int he algorithm or whatever), and your best choice generally depends on which one happens to gravitate to a niche that best suits your kind of work. The big names in this industry are Royal Road and Scribblehub, which, last I checked up on them (about a year ago) tended towards isekai and light erotica respectively. (You absolutely can publish outside these niches on these sites, it's just much harder to get traction.) Publishing somewhere like this comes with multiple advantages. Firstly, there's a writing community right there to talk to; there's usually a forum or something where people gather to talk about reading or writing on the site. Second, the site itself is designed specifically to publish web serials, and will come with a good layout and hit trackers and 'where you left off' buttons for the reader and all that; generally all you have to do is copy-paste the text of a chapter into the page and the site will do everything else for you. Third, there's an audience sitting right there, browsing the 'latest arrivals' or 'most popular' page of the site; if you can get high in the algorithm, you have to do little if any marketing.

The downsides of such places usually come down to the same things as the advantages. Such sites are a flooded market. Your story absolutely will drown in a sea of other stories, a great many of them terrible, and most of them with the advantage of catering to the site's niche. Gaining an audience there is often a matter of trying to game an algorithm, and the community can be... variable. Some of these places are nice but most of them are a bunch of authors trying to tear down everyone around them to make their own work look better by comparison int he hopes of poaching audiences for their story instead. If you go this route, I'd recommend shopping around for a site that fits you personality and writing style (or just posting on many sites at once; you can also do that).

These places also tend to get targeted by scrapers who will steal your story and sell it as an ebook, which is very annoying.

2. publish on another site

Plenty of people publish web serials here on Tumblr. I do not know why. This site is TERRIBLY set up for that. It makes tracking stories and updates a pain in the arse (people end up having to *manually tag every reader whenever they post an update*), building and maintaining archives are annoying, community building is surprisingly difficult for a social media site, and it's just generally far more work for both writer and reader than it needs to be. You often do have a ready-made audience, though.

This does tend to work better on other sites. Reddit has multiple communities for reading and writing various types of fiction; publishing on these is a bit more work than somewhere like Royal Road, but not very much, and many of these communities are very active. There aren't as many forums around as there used to be, but you might be able to find fiction hosting forums, if that's what you prefer. And of course, many writers who simply want to write and don't mind not being paid choose to write on AO3.

These sites are a good middle ground compromise for people who want a ready-made community and don't mind putting in a bit of extra work.

3. make your own site

This is what I did. You can make a website for free, giving people a hub to find you and all your work, designed however you like. You can also pay for a website if you want it to be a little bit nicer. This option is the most work, but gives you the most control and leaves you free of having to worry about any algorithm.

The obvious downside of this is that there's no community there. If you host your work on your own website, you need to bring people to it. You need to build an audience on your own. This is not an easy thing to do.

Building an audience (general advice)

Here is some general advice about building an audience:

1. Consistency. Consistency. Consistency.

If you want people to read your writing, the best piece of advice I can possibly give you is have an update schedule and update on time, always. If you need to take a break, give people as much warning as possible and tell them exactly when you will be back, and come back then. Do not take unnecessary breaks because you don't feel like writing. (Do take breaks if you get carpal tunnel or need time off for a major life event or something -- your health is more important than the story.) If you're taking a lot of breaks to avoid burnout, you're doing it wrong -- you need to rework your whole schedule from the start and slow down updates to make these breaks unnecessary. Two chapters a month with no breaks is a billion times better than four chapters a month with frequent burnout breaks.

Consistency. Consistency. Consistency.

A reliable schedule is the #1 factor in audience retention. If readers need to randomly check in or wait for notifications from you to check if there's an update, guess what? Most of them won't! They'll read something else. You want your audience to be able to anticipate each release and fit it in their own schedule. I cannot overstate the importance of this.

2. If you can, try to make your story good.

We writers would love to live in a world where this is the most important thing, but it actually isn't. Plenty of people out there are perfectly happy to read hot garbage. How do I define 'hot garbage'? It doesn't matter. Think of what you would consider to be just a terrible, no-effort, pointless garbage story that the world would be better off without. Someone is out there writing that right now, making US$2,500/month on Patreon.

It is, however, a real advantage if you can make your story good. At the very least, it should be worth your audience's time. Preferably, it should also be worth their money, and make them enthusiastic enough to try to get their friends into it. Managing this is massively advantageous.

3. Accept that you're not going to get a big audience for a really long time. Write consistently and update on schedule every time anyway.

It took me over a year to get my second patron. For the first year, I updated Curse Words every single week, on schedule, for over a year, and had maybe... four readers. One of them was a regular commenter. One of them was my first patron. There was no one else.

My audience has grown pretty rapidly, for this industry.

You're not gonna start publishing chapters for a big, vibrant community. You're just not. And you have to keep going anyway. These days, I have a pretty good readership, and those couple of loyal readers (who I appreciate beyond words) have grown into a much larger community, who hang out and debate theories with each other and liveblog and drag in new readers and make fanart. My discord has over 550 members, with volunteer moderators and regular fan artists and its own little in-jokes and games and readers who make a point of welcoming newcomers and helping them navigate the discord, all with very little input from me. I start crying when I think about these people, who do the bulk of my social and marketing work for me just because they want to help, and my patrons who, after writing for over 4.5 years, have recently helped me pass an important threshold -- my web serial (via patreon) now pays my mortgage repayments. I can't live off my writing alone, but boy is that a massive fucking step.

You're not gonna have that when you start. You're gonna have a couple of friends. And that's it. Maybe for a year. Maybe less, if you're good at marketing and lucky. Maybe longer.

You have to update on schedule, every time, anyway.

Building an audience (more specific advice)

"Yeah, that's great, Derin, but where can I find my fucking audience?" Well, if you publish on a web serial site, then the audience is there and you jsut need to grab their affention using the tools and social norms offered to you by the site. I utterly failed at this and cannot help you there. You can still use these other tips to bring in readers from off-site.

1. Paid ads

I've never paid for ads so I can't offer advice on how to do it. I've Blazed a couple of posts on Tumblr; they weren't helpful. This is, however, an option for you.

2. Actually tell people that your story exists and where they can find it.

I used to have a lot of trouble with this. I didn't want to bother people on Tumblr and soforth by telling them about my personal project. Unfortunately you kind of have to just get over that. Now I figure that if people don't want TTOU spam, they can just unfollow me. If you're like me and want to just politely keep your story to yourself... don't. You're shooting yourself in the foot doing that.

You need to mention your story. Link your story in your bio on whatever social media sites you use. Put it in your banner on forums. Make posts and memes about it. Eventually, if you're lucky, extremely valuable readers will start to talk about your story and meme and fanart it for you, but first, you need to let them know it exists.

It will always feel weird to do this. Just accept that people can unfollow you if they want, and do it anyway.

3. Leverage existing audiences and communities

Before I started doing this web serial thing, I used to write a lot of fanfic. The original audience that trickled in for Curse Words comes from AO3, where I was doing a full series rationalist rewrite of Animorphs. They knew how I wrote and wanted more of it. Nowadays, I still occasionally pull in readers through this route. Most of my new readers these days come from a different community -- people who follow me on Tumblr. Occasionally I bring in people who don't follow me because we'll be talking about how one of my stories relates to something different, and fans of that thing might decide they want to check my stories out.

Your first readers will come from communities that you're already in and that are already interested in something similar to what you're doing (people reading my fanfic on AO3 were already there for my writing, for instance). Keep these people in mind when you start out.

One additional critical source of existing communities is your readers themselves. A huge number of my readers are people I've never been in any group with -- they were pulled in by their friends, relatives, or community members who were reading my stories and wanted them to read them too. This is an absolutely invaluable source of 'advertising' and it is critically important to look after these people. enthusiastic readers, word-of-mouth advertisers, and fan artists are the people who will bring in those outside your immediate bubble.

4. Your "where to find me" hub

If you're publishing on your own website, you can simply link everything else to your homepage, and put all relevant links there. For example, I can link people to derinstories.com , which links out to all my stories, social media I want people to find me on (you don't have to link all your social media), patreon, discord, et cetera. If you don't have your own website, you're going to have to create a hub like this in the bios of every site where you garner audiences from. This is the main advantage of publishing on your own website.

Monetisation

There are a few different kinds of monetisation for web serials, but most of them boil down to 'use a web serial format to market your ebook', which to be honest I find pretty shady. These authors will start a web serial, put in enough to hook an audience for free, and then stop posting and release an ebook, with the intention of making readers pay for the ending. Now, to be clear, I am absolutely not against publishing and selling your web serial -- I'm doing exactly that, with Curse Words. I am against intentionally and knowingly setting up the start of a web serial as a 'demo' without telling your audience that that is what you are doing, soliciting Patreon money for it, and then later yanking it away unfinished and demanding money for the ending.

Monetisation of these sorts of stories is really just monetisation for normal indie publishing with the web serial acting as an ad, and I have no advice for how to do that successfully.

Your options of monetisation for a web serial as a web serial are a bit more limited. They essentially come down to merchandise (including ebooks or print books) or ongoing support (patreon, ko-fi, etc.) Of these, the only one I have experience with is the patreon model.

This model of monetisation involves setting up an account with a regular-donation site such as patreon, providing the base story for free, and providing bonuses to patrons. You can offer all kinds of bonuses for patrons. Many patrons don't actually care what the bonus is, they're donating to support you so that you can keep writing the story, but they still like to receive something. But some patrons do donate specifically for the bonuses, so it's worth choosing them with care.

The most common and most effective bonus for web serials is advance chapters -- if people are giving you money, give them the chapters early. You can also offer various bonus materials, merchandise, or voting rights on decisions you need to make in the future. 'Get your character put in the story' is a popular high-tier reward. If you're looking for reward ideas, you can see the ones I use on my patreon.

Patreon used to offer the ability to set donation goals, where you could offer something when you were making a certain amount total or had a certain number of subscribers. They recently removed this feature because Patreon hates me personally and doesn't want me to be happy, so you kind of have to advertise it yourself now if you want to use these goals. I release chapters of unrelated stories at donation goals, and I found this to be far more effective than I thought it would be.

The important factor for this kind of monetisation is that it's ongoing. The main advantage of this is that it makes your income far more regular and predictable than normal indie publishing -- your pledges will go up or down over a month, but not by nearly as much as book sales can. The main thing to keep in mind is that it's not a one-time sale, which means that however you organise things, you want to make sure that donating keeps on being worth it, month after month. Offering bonuses that aren't just one-time bonuses, but things that the patron can experience every month, helps here. So does making sure that you have a good community where patrons can hang out with other patrons. (Offering advance chapters does both of these things -- the patron can stay ahead in the story and discuss stuff with other patrons that non-patrons haven't seen. I've found that a lot of my patrons enjoy reading an emotionally devastating chapter ahead of time, discussing it, and then all gathering a week or two later to watch the unsuspecting non-patrons experience it for the first time.)

Whatever method you use for monetisation, rule #1 is (in the words of Moist Von Lipwig): always make it easy for people to give you money. The process of finding out how to give you money should be easy, as should the process of actually doing it. And, most importantly, the spender should feel like it's worth it to give you money. This is a big part of making it easy to give you money. Make your story worth it, make your bonuses worth it, make sure that they're happy to be part of your community and that they enjoy reading and supporting you. And remember that support comes in many forms -- the fan artist, the word-of-mouth enthuser, the person who makes your social hub a great place to be, the patron, all of these people are vital components in the life support system that keeps your story going. And you're going to have to find them, give them a story, and build them a community, word by word and brick by brick.

It's a long process.

Good luck.

#web serials #web serial novels #writing #advice

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