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hungriestheidi · 8 months
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Holi goose, soy yo de nuevo, cuando puedas por fa haz tu magia (Sebmark) besitos besitos tqm+ 💖💖💖💖
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‘[...] It’s unfathomable the extent to which Vettel has gloated after achieving the bare minimum of an award in the USA, a little statuesque present for being a ‘revelation’, and the painfully snobbish rejection of social media as a way to connect with his audience, that he wants to, in his own words, ‘keep at a distance’ despite the very notorious fact that he wouldn’t be a bubbling millionaire riding restored Harleys on the weekends without them.
He’s being hailed amongst the white senile Hitchcock obsessed critics as the new coming of James Dean, beware he does not become the new coming of disappointing, burnt out drug addict starlet that we find one morning on a ditch near Sunset and Vine.’
“Quite fucking harsh, don’t you think?”
The question is packed with contempt but delivered with a smile. He can sense it on the way the words end up on a lilting tone.
Mark still has his face pressed against his arm, nose buried on the inner part of his elbow, hand scratching at its opposite shoulder. The sun is harsh and he feels the heat of its light on his bare chest, the sheets pulled down to his knees, underwear saving him from the horror of anyone putting a downright pornographic image on a TMZ like site out of this private scene.
“Horner wanted something incisive,” he says with a shrug, tossing his arms up, holding onto the backboard of the bed, using it to pull himself up, half sitting and yawning, “don’t shoot the messenger.”
The IPad lands on his abdomen and coaxes a guttural swear out of him.
“I want to choke the messenger,” Sebastian says, crawling up the bed and settling on his thighs, his hands on Mark’s chest, “can I do that or will you write that I’m a terrible lover?”
“I don’t write lies, baby,” Mark tells him, caressing his face softly. In return, Sebastian slaps him.
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