#Chulo Magazine
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This beauty EPITOMISES classic hotness. Thank us later. https://chlmg.co/mGERhk
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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris
Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury
WC: 3.5k
F1 Masterlist
NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three
NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine
NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six
Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas
Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.
“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.
“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”
“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.
“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”
“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake.
Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”
He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”
Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it.
Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours.
Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.
You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs.
You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms.
“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands.
“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.
“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”
Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”
“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”
“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”
You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.
“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”
“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly.
“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”
You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours.
“Would you like something else, mamie?”
You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly.
A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado.
“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”
You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race.
“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt.
“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”
“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”
Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.
You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.
“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”
Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”
Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.
“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”
The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”
“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”
“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.
It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.
Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.
“Shit, sorry, Logan.”
“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.
“I’m fine, but you knew?”
Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”
You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”
“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”
Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”
You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”
“Not as exciting as a baby.”
“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”
His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.
Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”
You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”
“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”
“Love you too.”
“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.
“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.
“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.
You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”
To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.
You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.
One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head.
“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see.
“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”
Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.
“Somewhere warm.”
“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.
You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”
The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you.
“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear.
“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly.
You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset.
“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”
Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race.
“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track.
“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles.
Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.
“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”
“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff?
“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there.
“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”
“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears.
Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”
Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum.
“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him.
“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”
“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow.
“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”
“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers.
A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side.
“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away.
You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”
Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.
“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed.
“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”
Click here for the next part.
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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mis neuronas de viaje de estudios
De algo me tenía que servir haber trasnochado el viernes, o el sábado. Están en Houston Party, tienen el nombre de una canción de NOFX que habla de una porn star, y esta canción recoge la energía de Los Planetas de hace hace diez años. Por algo les han apadrinado su primer álbum, digo yo.
si has mentido alguna vez, yo te partiré la cara
si nos volvemos a ver en un cruce de miradas
(publicado el 2 de noviembre de 2004)
4 COMENTARIOS
Biafra - 03 de noviembre de 2004 - 22:31
Joder, la letra de Lori Meyers me retrotrae aaaa 1994! El inti!
Entrañables los NO Fuckin' X's (dicen la leyenda que eso significa las siglas... nunca tuvieron simpatías por los Straigth Edge...
Juan - 03 de noviembre de 2004 - 19:50
Muy chulos, aunque no sé, no los asocio a Los Planetas. Más La habitación roja o por ahí,no?
carlos g cano - 02 de noviembre de 2004 - 17:55
pues pídele a cavaller que te pase el single de amarillo (o a mí mismo si lo prefieres). y es que los planetas resucitan sin haber muerto. ¡eso no lo hace cualquiera!
Ramon - 02 de noviembre de 2004 - 14:51
Lori Meyers used to live upstairs
our parents had been friends for years
almost every afternoon we'd play forbidden games
at nine years old there's no such thing as shame
it wasn't recognition of her face, what
brought me back was a familiar mark
as it flashed across the screen.
I bought some magazines, some video taped scenes
incriminating acts, I felt that I could save her
Lori: "Who are you to tell me how to live my life?
You think I sell my body; I merely sell my time.
I aint no cinderella, I aint waiting for no prince
to save me in fact until just now I was doin' just fine
and on and on
I know what degradation feels like
I felt it on the floor at the factory
where I worked long before, I took control.
now I answer to me
The 50K I make this year will go anywhere I please
Where's the problem?"
A Lori Meyers la escenificó una chaty de L7. Dios los cría..
A la hija del Rúa: tengo trabajo, te debo una gran cena. ok.
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"INSTEAD OF LOSING CONTROL OF THE PARTY, THOUGH, FUNKDOOBIEST REMAINS ON TOP THROUGHOUT..."
PIC INFO: Spotlight on a print advert and/or record advert for "The Troubleshooters," the third full-length album by L.A.-based Latin/alternative hip-hop group FUNKDOOBIEST, released under the RCA label in early 1998. The advert was featured in the January '98 issue of "Rap Pages" magazine.
ALBUM OVERVIEW: "There’s something very fresh sounding on “Troubleshooters,” the third album by L.A.’s FUNKDOOBIEST. It could be the relative lack of filler and the DJ Ralph M.’s original approach to samples. The mad, driving swing of the Squirrel Nut Zipper’s “Hell” drives the first single, “Papi Chulo.” They twist around some verses to suit their own purposes on oldies like Bill Withers’ “Just the Two of Us” (to “just Funkdoobiest”) and Diana Ross’ “Theme From Mahogany” (“Doobie knows where you’re going to”).
They bring back the catchy beat and sped-up vocals of Newcleus’ “Jam on It” on the remake “Act on It.” But instead of borrowing the familiar hook from the Tom Tom Club’s “Genius of Love,” they cop its central question: “Whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?”
The delivery of rapper Sondoobie has a familiar ring — that high, whiny New York wiseacre squawk often associated with CYPRESS HILL. Yet he’s changing the voice a bit too, slowing it down with a deeper voice on a few tracks, yet still switching effortlessly from English to Spanish and back.
There are a lot of voices on “Troubleshooters” though, including Daz from Tha Dogg Pound on “Papi Chulo,” and Hitman, Hurricane G, Tony Touch, MC Fats, and a handful of others.
Instead of losing control of the party, though, Funkdoobiest remains on top throughout “Troubleshooters,” making it the sharpest rap release of the year yet."
-- HARTFORD COURANT, review for FUNKDOOBIEST's "Troubleshooters" (1998) album, published February 12, 1998
Sources: www.courant.com/1998/02/12/troubleshooters-funkdoobiest & http://hiphop-thegoldenera.blogspot.com/2018/12/rakim-master-is-back.html.
#FUNKDOOBIEST#FUNKDOOBIEST The Troubleshooters#The Troubleshooters 1998#Latin hip-hop#Alternative hip-hop#West Coast hip-hop#The Troubleshooters#Son Doobie#Hip-hop/rap#Blockbuster Music#Troubleshooters#Print Ads#90s hip-hop#FUNKDOOBIEST Troubleshooters#1998#L.A. hip-hop#West Coast rap/hip-hop#DJ Ralph M#90s Music#Record Ads#Rap Pages Magazine#1990s#90s#L.A.
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At Last We Are at Alec Hair Appreciation Saturday!
Here are Alec and his curls looking ethereal with a tiny leaf sprig behind his ear. This is one of the beautiful Clare Shilland photos from the Fall 2017 i-D Magazine article by Colin Crummy.
There are just some images of him that ,like, obliterate all thought. I could try to explain at length WHY some do and others do not. I mean, basically they ALL do, because Him, but after not quite year of stanning this beautiful human like it's my job, I have my favorites.
The one with suspenders. Any stlll from the Picture House Q&A. And this one.
I can't even EXPLAIN what it is about his expression that is provocative or secret or knowing. Or how this looks like the first breath of golden morning light on his face, or how his curls make you want to touch to see if they are soft or tight or warm in the sun. But it's the wee sprig of leaf behind his ear that is just, dios.
It's such a tiny, small, thing, a playful thing, but I LOVE everything about it. How at ease he is with this tiny bit of green foliage behind his year, how it seems to FIT there?? How it brings forth fic ideas of the sidhe and fairy realms and Pan and who would not follow him into the entrance in an old tree and drink and eat all the things and never return so long as you could see his face.
Thanks for reading and I'll see you all tomorrow, gente. :-)
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George Mackay for Esquire Spain.
#aye papi#papi chulo#george mackay#esquire#esquire magazine#1917 actor#1917 movie#1917#george mackay is bae
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MALUMA shot in LA for esquire July/August
#maluma#juan luis londoño arias#photo#photography#photoshoot#esquire#revista#magazine#model#style#fashion#elegant#elegance#handsome#papi chulo#latino#reggaeton#news#090717#09.07.2017#2017#*#tattoos#ManAtHisBest#EsquireMX
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Reckless (End)
Summary: The Fast and the Furious AU. You’re an undercover cop with a mission to infiltrate a team of street racers responsible for the theft of millions of dollars worth in electronics. However, you didn’t think you would fall for the leader of the team and your target, Bucky Barnes. Now you must make the decision, will you turn Bucky and his team in order to become an FBI agent you’ve always wanted to be, or throw caution to the wind and continue to fall for a criminal?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warning: Angst
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: Holy. Shit. It’s been 2 years since I’ve written this and it has finally ended. Inspiration has a funny way of showing up in unexpected places. Unfortunately, I’m unable to write as much as I’d like to because I’m back in school with a whole new set of rules and priorities. So thank you to all those who stuck around and thank you to newcomers who have enjoyed the ride!
Please reblog and/or comment if you enjoyed it.
RECKLESS MASTERLIST
Nat was wheeled back into surgery on a stretcher. The gash on her head was deep enough to receive stitches, and she floated out of consciousness on the way to the hospital. You, Sam, Steve, and Bucky attempted to wait patiently in the waiting room. Steve paced back and forth, chewing on his bottom lip, Sam occupied himself with an old magazine, and Bucky stared you down from across the small area. His jaw was clenched tight, and his foot tapped against the for impatiently. You tried to avert your eyes from him, but every time you glanced at him, guilt consumed more of you.
"James, I'm really sorry about Nat," you couldn't take the silence anymore, and you were trying desperately to make amends. You couldn't stand him being mad at you.
"Are you really sorry about Nat?" Bucky questioned, but you could hear the anger in his tone, "or are you sorry that you got caught being a nark?"
His words stung. "That wasn't my intention, James," You tried to defend yourself.
"Don't call me that. You lost that right when you became Officer Y/L/N," Bucky interrupted you. Your heart dropped and withdrew from the conversation. That was it, you were cut from Bucky's life, and there was no coming back from it.
Sam and Steve looked at you with sad eyes before they returned to what they were doing. The friends you once called family remained loyal to their leader, and it sent a shiver down your spine from the cold shoulder. You were now an outcast. The pit in your stomach grew bigger with guilt. The foundation for the makeshift family was trust and loyalty, and you broke it with one phone call. You didn't want to make the call, but it was the only thing you could do to save Nat. You didn't regret your decision; you just regretted the consequences.
"Mr. Barnes," the doctor came into the waiting room with a small smile on her face. Bucky, Steve, and Sam darted towards her. You lingered in the back to eavesdrop on what she had to say. "Your friend is doing great. No serious injury, other than a few scratches and bruises and a slight concussion. She should be ready to go home soon, though."
"Thank you, doctor. Is it okay if we go see her?" Steve questioned with a sigh of relief. The doctor shook her head and lead the group through the double doors. You trailed behind the group, contemplating on joining them, but you watched as they walked to Nat's room. Steve turned to you with sad eyes, with a small smile on his face. It hurt to look at, but you knew you made the right decision.
You couldn't stand to look at the white walls of the hospital, so you decided to step outside to get some fresh air. The open-air filled your lungs and relaxed your tight muscles from the tense situation. Your mind wandered to your case. Everything pointed to Bucky and the crew, but you couldn't bear to put him in jail. There had to be some way for you to take the heat of them and put on somebody else. It was unethical, but you were willing to do it.
Police sirens drew closer to the hospital, and you knew why they were coming. Before they surrounded the area, you ran back into the hospital. You burst through the double doors and looked through each room until you found the crew.
"Jesus, Y/N, what the hell are you still doing here?" Steve all but screamed.
"No time to explain," you insisted, "you guys need to get out of here,"
Confusion crossed the crew's face before distrust settled. "Why would we believe you now, after you've been lying to us for months," Bucky suspected.
"Bucky, we don't have time for this," you grew frustrated, "In less than 15 minutes, my boss will come through this door and shut this place down looking for you and they will send you to jail,"
"Bucky," Nat softly spoke, "I don't think she's lying about this,"
Bucky's head snapped toward Nat. Her bandage covered her scar, but there was a bruise on her shoulder where her gown had slipped. "You can't be serious, Nat? Before Race Wars, you were so skeptical of her, now you're siding with her. You must have hit your head harder than we thought,"
"Bucky, I know you're feeling betrayed right now, but Y/N wouldn't be risking her job right now to try and save us if she didn't care as much as she does," Nat slowly got on her feet and inched her way to you. She wrapped her arms around you for a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N," Nat choked out, holding back some emotion, "I don't think I'd be here right now if it weren't for you,"
You were surprised by the embrace, but you gently wrapped your arms around her in return. "Thanks, Nat," you whispered.
"I hate to break up this very sentimental moment," Sam said as Nat, and you broke apart, "but didn't you say that your boss was coming in less than 15 minutes?"
"We're basically sitting ducks here," Steve chimed in, "we need a plan out of here,"
"Leave it to me," you said with a confident smirk.
"Fury!" you called for him, "Fury, I just saw Bucky and his team, they were headed to the roof,"
"Good work, Y/L/N," Fury commended, "They won't get far," He and group of officers ran through the double doors to catch the team.
On their way into the hospital, four nurses in gray scrubs and face masks walked out in confusion. You surveyed the area before walking out of the hospital. Not many officers were in the vicinity, nor were there police cars, marked or unmarked. You didn't encounter any other officers on your way to your vehicle with the four nurses in tow.
"I think this is the end of the line for you guys," you declared.
The nurses took off their masks with a breath. "How did you find these?" Sam asked.
"I don't think you want to know that," you winced. The look of disgust crossed the gang's faces as they were ready to get out of their dirty disguises. You pulled your keys out of your pocket and handed them to Bucky.
"What do you want me to do with those," he questioned.
"It's your 10-second car, you should take it," you simply said.
Bucky reluctantly took the keys from you and whispered, "Thank you." His eyes were soft, with a small shimmer. He was grateful for what you did that it was almost redeemable.
You gave him a small smile, "You guys should really head out before you really get caught,"
"Not so fast," a gruff voice was heard throughout the parking lot. You all turned to see Rumlow, strutting his way over to you. His eye was nearly swollen shut, and his lip still split open from the beating during Race Wars. "I want what's mine, Barnes,"
"We don't owe you shit, Rumlow," Bucky stood between you and Rumlow. Even after your betrayal, he still continued to protect you.
"Bucky, you need to go," you insisted, stepping away from his security, "I can handle this," Bucky started to speak. Still, you commanded him, "Go!"
He let out a disgruntled huff. He ran with the team to your car and drove out of the parking lot.
"Whatcha gonna do now, girly?" Rumlow taunted, "Your team left you, what kind of loyalty is that?"
You put your fists up, ready for a fight. Rumlow lunged forward to grab you, but you dodged and punched him in the ear. He let out a yell in aggravation and tried again, but you went under for a kick in his groin. He winced in pain, taking a knee. You needed to subdue him to get the cuffs on him. You brought your knee back and hit him square in the chin. He fell on his back, knocking him unconscious.
Quickly, you struggled to roll him on his stomach and placed the cuffs on around his wrists. You grabbed your cell phone to make the call to Fury. "Fury, I got the guy you're looking for,"
"What? You said that Barnes was on the roof," Fury said.
"It wasn't Barnes doing the heists. It was Brock Rumlow," you asserted. The tried to make the lie as convincing as you could for now. Bucky and the gang were off to plant the evidence to make the conviction stick. It was the only way to keep Bucky safe. Nobody could know you were framing somebody for a crime they didn't commit. Nobody could know you did this for a criminal street racer. Nobody could know were in love with James Buchanan Barnes.
Tags: @anagentinwriting , @capbuckybuchanan @thecheesecakeklutz @caplansteverogers@cap111218 @ursulaismymiddlename @fandomlifeuniverse @suz-123@after-avenging-hours @asirenscalling @killmongerdreams @papi-chulo-seb @a-splash-of-stucky @captainrogerss @anakin-skywalkers @sebbies@whothehellisbella @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @soldatbarnes@satans-knitting-club @nedthegay @ex-bookjunky @lostinspace33@avengedqueen26 @thefallenbibliophilequote @vaisabu @pinkisokay@lachicadelamanzana @void-imaginations @its-daydreamer23@showbuckysomelove @palaiasaurus64 @goodolbucky @artemis3691
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#avengers imagine#avengers#steve rogers#sam wilson#natasha romanoff#brock rumlow#the fast and the furious#the fast and the furious au#series finale#ana writes
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You're such a pleasant surprise and a mystery to me. I never would've pegged you as someone who watched BA videos but then at the same time you say that and I love my Papi so much more ❤️ Merry Xmas Papi Chulo. Hope 2020 is great to you.
Hahahaha are you kidding? I would die for Claire Fromthebonappetittestkitchen. One of the loves of my life 😂😂😂 Honestly I love *almost* everyone on that company but Claire & Brad? *chef's kiss* Chris and Gabby are a close second.
I feel like I've made it crystal clear that cooking content is my life, no? Have I not? Name the cooking/baking show or competition on Netflix, Hulu, The Food Network, or like...TV in general and I can bet you hard money I've watched every episode. I can legit go weeks without watching a new movie or TV episode but I probably watch at least an hour of cooking/foodie content every day if only cuz its what I watch while I eat so that's at least one guaranteed episode every day. Matter of fact, I've watched them all to the point that some days I literally have to repeat shit cuz I've ran out of new shit to watch while eating lol.
I love Bon Appétit as a magazine and when they started making YT content you know I was right there with them so I've been watching their shit almost since the beginning. I know that I always say that Jenna is the only thing worthwhile on YT but that's because I always forget about the BA channel. Idk...I guess it's cuz I know Wednesdays/Thursdays every week I'm going to have new Jenna content without fail so it's more constant in my mind. BA is not as regimented on when they release new episodes and I forget about it until something new comes out. But literally they could delete the rest of YouTube and leave those two channels up and I think 1) the world would be a better place for it and 2) I wouldn't even notice lol.
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We DARE you to disagree. https://chlmg.co/fcp9Xz
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I’m on the cover of this month’s Chulo Magazine! Check it out at chulomagazine.com or get a copy at magcloud.com/browse/issue/1583137 @ChuloMagazine @lcheriyvestudios @paulbuceta @lorifabrizio #model #magazine #bikini #fitchicks #lingerie #beauty https://www.instagram.com/amytaylorla/p/BvBteo_la9k/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=167c6xzrc2oeb
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I am now taking requests for Patreon!
First tier: Squidlywiddly’s Homies ($2/month)
Members get access to headcanons and short stories (1,000 words or less).
Join $2 Tier
Second tier: Squidlywiddly’s Squad ($5/month)
Members get access to headcanons, short stories, and stories over 1,500 words. These are exclusive to Patrons :D
Join $5 Tier
Third tier: Squidlywiddly’s Fam ($8/month)
Members get access to headcanons, short stories, stories over 1,500 words and audio/visual content. These are exclusive to Patrons :D
Join $8 Tier
I mostly write for Marvel but I can do shows and films as well! Most of my OFCs are black girls or WOC since I am a black girl :D I can write original stories that are requested too. Blurbs are more than welcome (also super helpful to get me started) and headcanons too! I think it’s about time to try to turn my work into a business and I’m excited to write for y’all! If you need me to edit papers, I can do that too (I write for my school’s newspaper and I’m an editor for our magazine plus I’ve had many writing internships so I know what I’m doing).
If you lovely people could pass this along I’d greatly appreciate it! @papi-chulo-bucky @obsessiveshayme @coal000 @getinmelanin011 @suz-123 @stars8melanin @universereboot @thewinterstolemyheart @afro-elf @bolontiku @areubeingserved @prettyjewel93 @poppysrevolt @diamond-eyed-psychopath @7mlz @fvckingavengers @cab0930 @fenderguitar @magellan-88 @black-mcu-imagines @jazzytee @a-unique-girls-heaven @ringpop-poppy @tropicalcap @pocmarvelworks @blackgirloneshots
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Top 5 Bucky moments, Top 10 Seb moments and your favourite songs of the moment :)
Gina coming in clutch with these questions! Thank you bb 💛
Top 5 Bucky moments
1. The knife twirl
2. Any scene with 40’s Bucky for sure!!
3. Oooo when he walks out of the tent in Wakanda lookin like a snacc 😏
4. The iconic line... “who the hell is Bucky?”
5. When he said "Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, I'm following him.” to Steve, I cried 😭😭
Top 10 Seb moments
1. “If you want to sit on it, you want to be comfortable” damn near killed me
2. The dance video in the Lance jumpsuit
3. Corriere Dela Sera Style Magazine video 😍😍
4. Ooo when you says Papi Chulo
5. Him being confused and not knowing what’s going on 😂😂
6. Him speaking Romanian 😍😍
7. Him looking like a snacc 110% of the time
8. He’s shocked face when he hears people speaking Romanian
9. When he nicknamed his fans “winters children”
10. When he blushes super hard because of Sharon Stone of James Corden
Favorite songs
1. 21 by Mitch James
2. At My Weakest by James Arthur
3. 3:15 by Bazzi
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Adam Driver for Esquire UK
#adam driver#driverdaily#ben solo#kylo ren#star wars#starwars the rise of skywalker#photoshoot#photographs#esquire uk#esquire magazine#adam driver all wet#wow#papi chulo
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Maluma Photoshoot for Esquire magazine.
#maluma#juan luis londoño arias#photo#photoshoot#photography#boy#man#style#fashion#model#latino#esquire#esquiremx#handsome#papi chulo#magazine#revista#celebrity#dirty boy#pretty boy#news#10.07.2017#100717#2017#*#manathisbest
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📖 Emil Cioran: «Soy un hombre del fragmento» (entrevista) París Cuando llegué a París comprendí de inmediato mi interés por la gente ociosa. Yo mismo soy un ejemplo de lo improductivo: nunca he trabajado, nunca he tenido una profesión, salvo una vez, durante todo un año en Rumanía, cundo enseñé filosofía en Brasov. Era insoportable. Y al mismo tiempo aquella fue la razón que me trajo a París. En su propio más, uno debe hacer algo, pero no necesariamente cuando uno vive en el extranjero. He tenido la dicha de vivir más de cuarenta años como ocioso y, cómo pudiera decirlo sin Estado. Creo que lo interesante de vivir en París es que uno puede, uno debe vivir aquí como un extranjero radical, de modo que uno no pertenezca a una nación sino sólo a una ciudad. En cierta medida me siento parisino, pero no francés –sobre todo no francés. (…) Hay dos libros que para mí representan, expresan París. Primero aquel libro de Rilke, Los cuadernos de Malte Laurids Brigge, y luego el primer libro de Henry Miller, Trópico de Cáncer, que muestra otro París que no es el de Rilke, sino incluso su contrario, el París de los burdeles, de las prostitutas y de los chulos, el París del lodo. Y ese es el París que yo conocí: (…) el París de los hombres solos y de las prostitutas. En realidad, ya antes lo había vivido en Rumanía: la vida del burdel era muy intensa en los Balcanes; igual que en París, al menos antes de la guerra (…) cuando llegué aquí sostenía largas charlas con muchas mujeres. Al inicio de la guerra vivía en un hotel, no lejos del bulevard Saint-Michel, y allí trabé amistad con una prostituta, una señora ya canosa. Nos hicimos muy buenos amigos; es decir, era muy vieja para mí. Pero era una actriz increíble, con un talento enorme para la tragedia. Casi todas las noches me la encontraba hacia las dos o las tres de la madrugada, pues siempre regresaba tarde al hotel. *Entrevista publicada en la revista Magazine Littéraire, París, No. 373, febrero de 1999, con el título “Cioran. “Je ne suis pas un nihiliste: le rien est encore un programme””. Traducción de Gerardo Fernández Fe. Publicado en revista Unión, No. 35, La Habana, Cuba, abril-junio 1999, pp. 39-41. https://www.instagram.com/p/CZRy9b5hDsn/?utm_medium=tumblr
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