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viennakarma · 3 months

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My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #brocedes #Spotify

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bau-muffin · 2 months

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“Pure Intentions”

Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: E

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1,162 Words

Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.

Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.

Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.

He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.

“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”

“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”

“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”

You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.

“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.

“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.

“You see me as the bodyguard type.”

You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”

“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.

“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”

“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”

“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”

“Mm?”

“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”

“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“

“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.

Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”

You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.

“Can you come to my desk for a second?”

You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.

You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”

“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.

“Uh-” you backed away from him.

“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”

Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.

A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“

“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.

On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.

“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.

“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”

Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”

“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.

“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.

He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #fluff #fluffy #fluff fic

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daydreamerwonderkid · 10 months

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Me, after doing 15 minutes of excessive googling on every Batfam member's birthday only to then realize I've accidentally missed the majority of them this year, and then also finding out that people are still aggressively debating over whether Bruce's birthday is April 7 or February 19, Dick's birthday happens 3-6x throughout the year, and Stephanie might have just popped into existence for all that DC cares:

Batfam birthday dates btw for anyone who needs them are listed beneath the cut:

DISCLAIMER: DC is notorious for being super inconsistent with everything and I am a mere tadpole caught in the tidal wave of DC's ocean. This post will be regularly updated with edits and corrections so please do not use it as word of law, I am begging you.

Update (8/24/23): To keep things more simple and easier for everyone I am going to start categorizing the birth dates I've collected into 3 categories.

-Most popular: Self-explanatory. These are the birth dates that have been canonized and confirmed by DC and are also more wildly celebrated by the fandom. Typically, this should be the first result you see when you google the character's birthday. But not always because DC sucks ass.

-Other date(s): These are the additional birth dates I come across that have been canonized in some form with multiple sources, but are not as wildly celebrated or popularized by DC and/or the fandom. Why am I including them here? Mostly because I don't want people coming in saying I forgot a date. But also because if I have to see this mess, then y'all have too as well.

-Potential but unconfirmed date(s): This is where I will put all the other additional dates I find, but specifically those that are lacking in complete sources or seem to be highly debated and scrutinized.

Also fun emoji ranking guide for me and me alone:

👑👑: Queen Shit. Characters with a consistent and simple birth date(s). Can absolutely do no wrong.

👑😮‍💨: In the Running. Characters who don't have a set birth date, but the mess is minor and completely DC's fault. They shouldn't have to be punished for DC's crimes.

🤡🤡: Gtfo. Shit is so inconsistent and stupidly messy that it's making me lose my shit. I'm putting DC and the characters on trial for this bullshit.

👑Alfred Pennyworth👑

Most popular: August 18

Other date(s): June 27 or August 10

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): September 19 (fml)

(Yes, I'm including Terry, fuck you lol

Also SERIOUSLY WTF is up with so many of these August birthdays!!!! Fuck, was everyone just getting crazy BUSY in November!!!! What's going on in the DC universe that is making November of all months the HORNY MONTH????!!!!)

(Mini update ((8/18/23)): Well, I just found out that apparently June 27th 2023 is also a highly debated birth date for Terry. As is August 10 2023/2024 and August 18 2023/2024. I even saw a mention of September 19 2023, but I don't know how credible that source actually is. I'm just putting it here because I'm losing my mind and I don't want someone to pop in and say I forgot it omfg I'm dying

I'm just ... why? Why is it so hard to just commit to one month and one date. I'm not even concerned about the exact year. Just commit to ONE, man.

Excuse me while I march over to DC HQ and burn the whole place to the ground iswtfg)

Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on any of these. I have a massive headache now and am open to any suggestions or clarifications y'all have to offer.

Also, I'm going to fist fight Dick in a Denny's parking lot.

Update (8/17/23): So a mini post that I meant to use as a way to vent how insane Dick was making me somehow blew up way more than I ever expected it to, and now I feel obligated to clarify again that I am open to any corrections and additional info that anyone has to offer.

I'm saying this because I've noticed people reblogging this post for actual Batfam bday references and someone already pointed out I fucked up Tim's bday and now I feel bad for everyone who reblogged this post prior to that edit.

It's probably just the anxiety talking, but yeah I just wanted to put that out there.

Also justice for Stephanie Brown! She deserves to have her own special day and if I have to bully DC into giving her a canon birthday, then you bet your ass I fucking will.

(And to all of y'all who are encouraging Dick to keep running his side scam business, I just have this to say: There's an empty Denny's parking lot somewhere out there just waiting for you, too lol)

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steddietogo · 1 year

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So. This is my own take on Steddie meet cute at the Grammys (gets a little thirsty in the middle for a second so warning I guess??)

———

The buzzing in his veins feel too much to contain in Eddie’s body, his cheeks ache from grinning too hard. He grabs Jeff by the shoulders to shake him and Jeff takes it without complain, too busy floating in his own cloud nine to do anything about it. All four of them are.

They’re being carted off from one interview to another, it’s all hazy in his mind, all he can think of is that they won a fucking Grammy.

“We’re here backstage with Corroded Coffin with their first ever Grammy from the best rock performance category,” the interviewer is saying, then he turns to face the band, and shit. Eddie has to sling an arm over Gareth to keep himself upright. “So how are you guys feeling right now?”

“It feels very validating to get the recognition for all our hard work—” and everything else Jeff says barely registers. Eddie is staring, he’s distantly aware of it. But he should hardly be blamed. The man before him is dressed in a deep caramel suit, jacket cinching around a trim waist and bubble gum pink lips stretched in a smile as he diligently listens to what his band has to say.

“— and Eddie, he’s really put his heart and soul in this song in particular,” the mention of his name unceremoniously drags him back to the land of the living where his bandmates know him too well and are actively trying to sabotage him before the sexy interviewer. Gareth is innocently blinking up at Eddie with his I’ve-never-done-anything-wrong-in-my-life eyes, urging him to speak.

“Um,” Um? Seriously? “Mob Mentality is an especially significant song to me personally—” Eddie’s given this spiel a hundred times, not that any word of it is untrue, but the practiced response lets him zone out just the right amount to fully drown himself in the shade of hazel of the interviewer’s eyes, imagine them looking up at Eddie from between his thighs, full of tears— goddamnfuckstopit.

The man must notice, because there’s a gorgeous smattering of pink dusting his cheeks Eddie could swear wasn’t there before.

After, Eddie is pretty much bodily dragged away from there, legs refusing to carry him away. He twists even as he’s walking, desperate to keep the man within his sights for even just a second longer. To keep him looking at Eddie, which by some miracle, he still is. And like an idiot Eddie waves, wiggling his fingers at him.

The man raises his own hand in return, and then he’s turning away, leaving Eddie to mourn the loss of his attention. But then he hears it— Steve. The camera guy calls him Steve. Sexy interviewer’s name is Steve. That in itself would be enough to sustain Eddie’s daydreams for some time.

———

Predictably, its all over social media the very next day. Or more accurately there’s one particular clip circling the net like there’s no tomorrow.

Eddie Munson simping for hot guy at the Grammys.

The comments were the worst (best) part. Eddie hasn’t dated since coming out to the public. And the fact that most of the comments people have about him openly showing interest in another man is just nonchalance or excitement makes him feel much better about it.

Eddie’s heart skips as he sees the face from last night in the clip, looking even more gorgeous than in his dreams if it were even possible. And then there is also Eddie in those clips, practically undressing him with his eyes, right there in public. He looks like he wants to open him up and lick him like melted chocolate in a wrapper.

Eddie was so screwed.

———

Top comments:

user 80085: that man is stronger than me because I don’t think I’d survive Eddie Munson looking at me like that

CorrodedFC: Eddie Munson Rendered momentarily speechless? by an interviewer?? More likely that you think

you_call_me_munson: they need to date. Right this second or I’m stealing one of the hotties for myself

———

Part II

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #famous eddie munson #steddie Grammys edition

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books · 6 months

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Writer Spotlight: Jamie Beck

Jamie Beck is a photographer residing in Provence, France. Her Tumblr blog, From Me To You, became immensely successful shortly after launching in 2009. Soon after, Jamie, along with her partner Kevin Burg, pioneered the use of Cinemagraphs in creative storytelling for brands. Since then, she has produced marketing and advertising campaigns for companies like Google, Samsung, Netflix, Disney, Microsoft, Nike, Volvo, and MTV, and was included in Adweek Magazine’s “Creative 100” among the industry’s top Visual Artists. In 2022, she released her first book, An American in Provence, which became a NYT Bestseller and Amazon #1 book in multiple categories, and featured in publications such as Vogue, goop, Who What Wear, and Forbes. Flowers of Provence is Jamie’s second book.

Can you tell us about how The Flowers of Provence came to be?

I refer to Provence often as ‘The Garden of Eden’ for her harmonious seasons that bring an ever-changing floral bounty through the landscape. My greatest joy in life is telling her story of flowers through photography so that we may all enjoy them, their beauty, their symbolism, and their contribution to the harmony of this land just a bit longer.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do your photography and writing work together? Do you write as part of your practice?

I constantly write small notations, which usually occur when I am alone in nature with the intention of creating a photograph or in my studio working alone on a still life. I write as I think in my head, so I have made it a very strict practice that when a thought or idea comes up, I stop and quickly write the text in the notes app on my phone or in a pocket journal I keep with me most of the time. If I don’t stop and write it down at that moment, I find it is gone forever. It is also the same practice for shooting flowers, especially in a place as seasonal as Provence. If I see something, I must capture it right away because it could be gone tomorrow.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

You got your start in commercial photography. What’s something you learned in those fields that has served you well in your current creative direction?

I think my understanding of bridging art and commerce came from my commercial photography background. I can make beautiful photographs of flowers all day long, but how to make a living off your art is a completely different skill that I am fortunate enough to have learned by working with so many different creative brands and products in the past.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

Do you remember your first photograph?

Absolutely! I was 13 years old. My mother gave me her old Pentax 35mm film camera to play with. When I looked through the viewfinder, it was as if the imaginary world in my head could finally come to life! I gave my best friend a makeover, put her in an evening gown in the backyard of my parents’ house in Texas, and made my first photograph, which I thought was so glamorous! So Vogue!

You situate your photographic work with an introduction that charts the seasons in Provence through flowers. Are there any authors from the fields of nature writing and writing place that inspire you?

I absolutely adore Monty Don! His writing, his shoes, and his ease with nature and flowers—that’s a world in which I want to live. I also love Floret Flowers, especially on social media, as a way to learn the science behind flowers and how to grow them.

How did you decide on the order of the images within The Flowers of Provence?

Something I didn’t anticipate with a book deal is that I would actually be the one doing the layouts! I assumed I would hand over a folder of images, and an art director would decide the order. At first, it was overwhelming to sort through it all because the work is so personal, and I’m so visual. But in the end, it had to be me. It had to be my story and flow to be truly authentic. I tried to move through the seasons and colors of the landscape in a harmonious way that felt a bit magical, just as discovering Provence has felt to me.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do you practice self-care when juggling work and life commitments alongside the creative process?

The creative process is typically a result that comes out of taking time for self-care. I get some of my best ideas for photographic projects or writing when I am in a bath or shower or go for a long (and restorative) walk in nature. Doing things for myself, such as how I dress or do my hair and makeup, is another form of creative expression that is satisfying.

What’s a place or motif you’d like to photograph that you haven’t had a chance to yet?

I am really interested in discovering more formal gardens in France. I like the idea of garden portraiture, trying to really capture the essence and spirit of places where man and nature intertwine.

Which artists do you return to for inspiration?

I’m absolutely obsessed with Édouard Manet—his color pallet and subject matter.

What are three things you can’t live without as an artist?

My camera, the French light, and flowers, of course.

What’s your favorite flower to photograph, and why?

I love roses. They remind me of my grandmother, who always grew roses and was my first teacher of nature. The perfume of roses and the vast variety of colors, names, and styles all make me totally crazy. I just love them. They simply bring me joy the same way seeing a rainbow in the sky does.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

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happy74827 · 2 months

Note

Can you make more Joe Goldberg? You did such aan amazing job on the first one that I NEED a second one. Just please consider. Thank. Love your fics btw 💖💖💖

Lily of the Valley

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Coffee might not be his favorite, but things can change when it involves a person like you.

WC: 659

Category: Fluff

Fortunately, I already had this small idea in mind for our lovely stalker man and this request really just put the icing on top of the cake. Hopefully it fulfills your needs 🙌 (also you’re too sweet… thank you so much for the kind words 💞)

『••✎••』

Coffee. The hard, hot, and bitter drink that is the reason many people get out of bed each day and the reason why some people stay up until the early hours of the morning. He never understood the appeal.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the smell of coffee beans roasting, the smell of fresh ground beans being poured into a filter, and the smell of the finished product. He didn't understand how something so bitter and disgusting could have such a calming and comforting smell.

Joe had been sitting in a booth in a coffee shop for the past few hours, watching the world outside go by, sipping a small mug of tea, and his current read, "The Woman In The Window" by A.J Finn, in front of him. His eyes were trained on the people going by, not really taking much of anything in. He was on autopilot, a default setting he slipped into whenever his mind was full of something else.

It was only when a waitress with a short, black pixie cut walked over to his table that his eyes come back into focus, and his thoughts began to slow down. She didn't look like she belonged in a coffee shop. With a long, floral dress, combat boots, and a cardigan, she was far too pretty and too interesting to be serving lattes. She was a rose in a garden full of daisies, a peacock among chickens.

Then, like a snap to reality, the sound of his name pulled him away from her and onto… you. The whole reason he was here in the first place.

If he thought the waitress was a rose, you were a whole bouquet.

"Jonathan! Are you going to order anything, or are you just going to keep sitting there, scaring all our other employees?" You said a laugh in your voice.

He hadn't even noticed the waitress had already left, and now, you were standing by the table, holding a coffee pot.

Yeah, he needs to stop letting his thoughts take over.

"No, no, I was just, uh, reading."

"Reading a book, or reading her?" You said, cocking your head to the side, indicating the waitress who had moved on to another table.

"Reading the book."

"Mhm, sure." You said, not at all convinced. God, he just wanted to kiss the smirk off your face. Those pretty lipstick-covered lips moving against his.

You shook your head, smiling.

"You want a muffin… or something? On the house, since you're a regular and all."

He looked down at the book again, then back up at you. Unlike the waitress, you were dressed for work in a black, collared shirt tucked into black pants and a black apron tied around your waist.

It told him a lot about you, like the fact that you were a rule follower organized. The other waitress played confidence to stand out. You wanted to blend in, but still, he noticed.

How could he not notice you?

"Sure."

"Blueberry, right? Your usual."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back in a second."

You had just turned to leave before you spun on your heel and stopped.

"And, Jonathan,” you paused. "That book in your hands? Wonderful read."

As you walked away, he realized how his heart had started to beat faster, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

A bouquet? No, you were something far more rare and far more beautiful than that.

You were an orchid.

And when you returned with that perfectly shaped muffin and that award-winning smile, Joe decided this would be the last time he ever chased a woman. Because this one?

You?

It was as though you were a mix between all his past loves and yet someone entirely new.

You were that new orchid in the greenhouse, the lily of the valley, and he wanted to nurture you and make you grow.

It's time to stop blending in; he would bring you out to bloom.

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ceilidho · 11 months

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forced throuple (soap/ghost/reader)

i've been ruminating on this idea for awhile, that basically after the Alone campaign and after getting out of Las Almas, Ghost more or less decided that Soap is his person. sort of like his pack. and it's only obvious that anyone Soap considers family would also get lumped into his pack as well.

Ghost doesn't keep very many people close - even those that he considers close (Price, Gaz, Roach, etc), he keeps at something of a distance. this is exemplified by the way he still clings to the possibility of betrayal (like telling Soap that "people you trust can hurt you the most"), but after Las Almas, I think something flips in him.

There's a switch that's been off for years, maybe even close to a decade, and it flips back online when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes and it twists something in his chest. I don't think he would've even had something like that before, definitely not during his youth when he was still overcoming his childhood trauma and certainly not after everything that lead up to Simon becoming Ghost.

I don't even think Ghost would be particularly upset if Soap came back from leave one day with a girlfriend; he trusts Soap's judgment completely. And once he sees her for himself, pretty as pie tucked under his sergeant's arm (all small and doe eyed, smart as a whip when she opens her mouth), all that does is confirm his assumption.

It takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost's brain to file her under "mine", slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn't that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

Soap would be distinctly uncomfortable at first. There's a fine line between having Ghost's undivided attention (and oh, he eats it up at first, struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy for being Ghost's favourite and abject curiosity/horror) and having Ghost's....complete....undivided....attention.

Like Soap just wants to parade his new girlfriend around (she's sweet but snippy, everything he's ever wanted in a partner) in front of his colleagues, but then Ghost gropes her ass in front of everyone on base (because by then, Ghost has already started to think of the two of them as 'his' in his head) and Soap just stares, mouth dry, absolutely humiliated but no idea what to do (he's just thinking over and over again, "Do I tell him to stop, what do I DO??")

Because Ghost is his buddy, his best friend, his CO - Soap trusts Ghost implicitly, would put his whole life in his hands and know that Ghost would keep him safe.

So he doesn't get it at first? Maybe he thinks Ghost is actually interested in his girlfriend and it wrecks him because Soap can see himself really falling for this girl, but Ghost is also like - he's a part of him. He probably briefly does consider just letting Ghost have her, conceding defeat.

Ghost would correct that assumption soooo quick. There isn't a version of him that wants someone who doesn't also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they've been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Soap wants - he almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny's thoughts into his.

Like Soap genuinely likes having all of Ghost's attention on him because he's a bit of an attention whore but it's a bit different when his LT is holding his head down into his girlfriend's pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit.

Worse because Ghost's hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse still when Ghost positions Soap over her, big hands on his hips and Soap has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head spinning, staring down into his girlfriend's eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to sooth her, coo down at her that he's got her and everything's going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and his vision just goes white.

This whooollleeeee au is basically "when a bigger, stronger guy hits on ur gf but it's ok bc he also wants to plow u (her boyfriend)"

#cod x reader #soap x reader #soap mctavish #ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x soap #ceil writing #ghost/soap/reader

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bloogers-boogers · 1 month

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Idk if you're still doing requests but could you do one of Adam laughing his ass off when Micheal gives him a rooster toy but it's like one of those ugly loud long yellow rubber chickens but Adam thinks is cute and hilarious. Micheal, maybe, is just glad Adam likes it.

I have so many headcanons on WHY Michael loves roosters qusgwishsis but one of them is it being God assigning all the archangels an animal to represent them as, like Lucifer is a duck (cute and goofy) while Michael is a rooster (the one that fights to protect it's flock) ahsishsowjs anyways the second hc I have about it is that (it could be either seen as platonic or romantic) but Adam was the first person ever that Michael had to create SOMETHING after Lucifer was banished to wonder earth with Lilith; he was left with the responsibility of creating new creatures for Adam (and he wasn't like Lucifer in that category of creativity, so it meant a lot for him when Adam would praise him for his work). The rooster was literally the most convenient (he did it to help Adam wake up in time to do his chores bc the first human would complain about oversleeping and not being able to finish all of his duties in time before nighttime) and beautiful thing he's made not only for Adam but himself too.

Third hc is because of Lucifer. I love them being caring over the other but I like to see Lucifer admire and feel inspire by Michael's hidden creativity that isn't allowed to share bc he's meant to fight not dream. So Lucifer just loves whenever he sees Michael 'slip' up and do something like an object or creature. I have this whole idea about more than anything but it's Michael singing to a young dreamer lucifer 😭💕 ahdkwjsossjsow

[Michael: More than anything

More than anything

I'll shelter and adore you more than anything

Lucifer: Michael, I don't need you to protect me from this

Michael: I just don't want you to be crushed by them like

Like I was

Lucifer: Michael...

When I was young, I didn't really know you at all

I always felt so small

But I heard your stories and I was enthralled

The tales about your lofty dreams, I listen breathlessly

Imagining it could be me

So it's the view I had of you

That showed me dreams can be worth fighting for ]

I dunno it just makes things more tragic after Lucifer's fall.

I also hc Michael having his wings down when being only around Lucifer as he felt relax an at ease while being around him, the brothers all knew that Michael wings were always tensed, up (to look bigger), and alert or tucked away as he had issues on trusting someone/something won't happen if he let his guard down, and without Lucifer (fallen) it was unlikely to ever see his wings down but somehow after Adam entered heaven they started noticing Michael's wings flapped excitedly and flopped downwards while speaking or being around Adam.

Last hc I promise ahsuwwjiw but I also like hc Michael having a prosthetic wing after Lucifer's fall from trying last minute to protect Lucifer but having to be put down by one of the seraphim ripped his wing off as a warning (it was both traumatic for Lucifer and Michael that Lucifer just accepted his fate and shielded Lilith from most of the pain of the fall).

Anyways sorry for the long rant anon 😭😭😮‍💨

#asks♡#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #guitarhero #michael x adam #the last drawing was me being silly ahshwishwus #totally drift away from the ship and went on ranting about my hcs sorry 😭😭#it just has to be special and meaningful #another idea is Michael creating a rooster for Lucifer as he was punished for one of his dreams so to cheer him up the rooster was made #to make him laugh #which worked on Lucifer

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junkiespromise · 1 year

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superstar | ms47

request: can "superstar" be about mick? y/n is a very supportive girlfriend and she cheers for him and goes to every race but she's not famous, she's a "pretty normal" person compared to him, so his fans don't really understand what he sees in her?

summary: where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

warnings: angst yeah and a bit of relationship doubts.

notes: the second story and first request of the eras masterlist is finally here! i hope ypu guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writting it, also it was my first social media au, and remember that requests are still opened!

masterlist

Mick’s life had always been filled with the thrilling sound of car engines and the adrenaline that comes with excessive speed. His father being probably the most famous Formula One driver in history was perhaps the reason why he was so interested and enamored by the sport, making him always wonder if his father was not who he was, would he even be this obsessed with it, or would he want to be a football player or a pianist.

So he made his way through the motorsport world, karts like any kid and then a formula three and two champion until he achieved the highest category and just like his father he became a Formula One driver but he realized that even now when he had finally achieved everything he had dreamed of, he felt, lonely.

Even when he stepped inside the most rapid vehicles in history, where he thought he would feel the most complete, his heart told him that something was missing, to make it alright, to put it all in place. He didn’t know what it was but his soul ached for it, he longed for a deeper connection, someone who would see him for who he truly was and understand his mind and soul.

So when he crossed paths with Y/N, one Sunday evening back home in Germany those lingering feelings disappeared, he knew she was the one.

Mick remembers the day they met as if it was yesterday, he remembered her clothes and could describe in a detailed way how her hair was wrapped in a hair band forming a low ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

He was wearing some long-sleeved shirt that was years old and a pair of dark blue jeans tightened with a belt that probably belonged to his father, considering the damaged black leather of it.

That cold evening he and his sister decided to go out for a coffee, and after an insisting chat with Gina, he decided to go. He was back home, finally, after a never stopping routine of constant travel he had some time for his own, and like every year he went to Germany, with his family. So that day they decided on a small café that not many people frequented.

Mick had asked for a cappuccino and Gina for a macchiato, his order was the first one they called but just as he was stepping towards the girl who was handing it to him, exactly like in a rom-com his sister made him watch, he felt a coldness hit his chest, in a second his white long-sleeved shirt was splashed in brown iced coffee.

A wave of apologies said by a sweet voice filled his ears and that was the moment he finally looked at the girl who had accidentally thrown her coffee onto his shirt.

—Don't worry too much, I'm lucky it was an iced one—He said, slightly chuckling, placing his hand on her wrists, stopping her from smudging it more. Now his mind wondered why she was even ordering it when outside you could see slight traces of snow.

Their eyes finally met, for the first time, before, she was too busy trying to get rid of the stain on his shirt to pay attention to the person she was cleaning it off of. Embarrassed by the situation with her cheeks flushed in a light pink that went all the way up to her ears she stopped for a moment the apologies.

They told each other their names and rapidly started talking, as if faith had brought them together and made them meet like that. In the back, Gina laughed at the poor flirting attempts of her brother who had also completely forgotten about their arranged siblings' coffee date.

And for months after that, they were friends, each too afraid to confess the feelings they had, until finally, one night, when he had traveled to her hometown as a surprise Mick tried to in the most rom-comish way he could, confess his feelings.

Afraid about not hearing an answer to his confession, all kinds of thoughts run through his mind, maybe he had read the signals wrongly and she just wanted to be friends.

But for his luck, the thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips clinging onto his.

Now, months into their relationship he knew that she was that missing piece he had looked for all along. He raced in the fastest cars in the world yet he felt more adrenaline when he looked at her, his nervousness when he started a race did not compare to that of placing his eyes on hers. And his worries faded to nothing when he looked at her

But people started talking, they always did, and at first, not caring was so easy, in the end, a relationship with a superstar who has thousands of fans all around the world was hard for everyone who was in one, except that to Y/N, his fans seemed harsher on the critics.

They speculated about her motives, if it was for some quick fame or the money he could bring to your home or even the connections she could get and that after catching them she would rapidly leave him, both of them knew the truth, they loved each other and nothing could stop them from it but sometimes it felt like they could.

Mick knew he shouldn't doubt their relationship but he could not stop his mind from wandering if she truly loved him, he knew he loved her but what if it was not like that to her, what if they were right.

The doubts started to get to his head, the side comments, the replies to any post he made about her or she made about him, they, at a point, became to much, so the distancing started between them, slowly, but not slow enough for her to not notice.

yourusername

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yourusername half of my weekend dump !

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sarahluvs47 only here for the mick content like all of us.

formulaleclerc this the girl mick is dating, why? lol

wagsl0ver no one know really, he could

truly do much better

yourbestfriend you look so hot, how do you do it, stop

As the sun began to set in the Saudi Arabia grand prix circuit, everyone's faces filled with excitement, the voices high pitched with enthusiasm. She stood with her hands on the metal railings that separated the crowd from the track.

Although excitement filled the air, Y/N's heart ached. She loved Mick, so much, his love completed her, but people commented on it, on a love that was so pure it seemed almost indestructible, and for a moment she was so foolish she believed that, that their love would be forever, even with all the comments from the outside, their own little world would stay the same.

She knew, the second Mick had told her he was a driver, a formula one driver, that it would be hard to maintain a relationship with a superstar like him. But she was willing to try, even if it meant that the moment she stepped out into the world as Mick Schumacher's girlfriend, that her way of living would not be the same and that that quiet life she liked to have would not be possible, at least for the time they dated. And for him, she was willing to try.

Taking a deep breath in, she locked her phone, reading through the dozens of messages and comments people left her was exhausting and she did not understand the why of them, she hadn't done anything to anyone, she was aware of the ruthlessness of the internet but she had never experienced it first hand.

The comments had been recently getting to her head and she knew they had gotten to Mick's too. Lately he had been more distant, quieter also, and she didn't know what to do about it, talk would be the obvious thing but she avoided serious talks at all costs, she wasn't good at it and her eyes got all watery when she made eye contact with the one she was talking too. But, right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do, force him to chat with her.

…

The wheels on the car were barely been held together, after forty two laps with them and fifty seven laps total, the race was coming to an end and for the first time, Mick, was finally going to place his feet in the podium, second place, just milliseconds behind the blue car numbered "one".

Gina and Corinna sat by her side, the three of them on the verge of tears. The cameras pointed at their faces and then back at the race, she wouldn't celebrate yet, to her it was bad luck. Her heart accelerated at the same pace as the cars passing on the screen in front of her, one more lap and it was his.

The checkered flag appeared in the air, finally it had come to an end, the moment the car passed the checkered flag, the three women and the entire team got up, at the same time, screaming and hugging each other. Now they waited for him to arrive and congratulate him.

Her eyes placed on his, she knew that behind that helmet, a pair of blue eyes were staring back. She smiled when he finally ran towards his team to hug them, the flashing of cameras and screams filled her ears but as soon as he reached out for her and his arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, his helmet still on, it felt as if they were the last people on earth, just them.

It was celebration day for Mick Schumacher, after that eventful race and his first podium he could finally celebrate it, with his friends and his team, even part of his family and of course, his girlfriend who had been with him for months now and was one of his biggest supporters.

He had changed already after a shower, into a pair of light washed jeans and a navy blue shirt. Mick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror one last time, he didn't need to look great but in the end it was a celebration for him so he had to be presentable at least. After a few minutes in the bathroom he finally came out to go look for his girl, who he thought was going to go with him.

He was surprised to find his girlfriend facing towards the TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a matching black and light pink sweats set he had gotten her one time after she had told him she had liked it. Her phone facing down by her side and her hands where, he supposed, resting on her face, covering it.

— Hey, what's wrong? Are you not coming? — He sat by her side, putting his arm around her, fingers softly twisting her hair between them.

— We have to talk Mick, I, I can't stand this anymore — Her voice cracked at the end, even if she tried to hide it, he knew it had.

— What? Y/N, look at me, what is going on? — His hands grabbed her face now, his blue eyes scanning over her features, she was god damn gorgeous.

— Those comments, you know, they keep saying that I'm only with you because of your connections and shit, and you have been so distant lately I just — She looked in his eyes, not for long before she drifted them away from him and started to look at different things that seemed now, extremely interesting. Not the best at keeping eye contact especially in moments like those.

Mick immediately reacted back with the intention of talking back, refusing to hear her re-call the comments but Y/N talked before.

— I just don't want that to destroy us and you to think that I'm looking for fame, I just love you so much, and you've been so great to me so you suddenly distancing yourself from me is, I, please don't hear them —

His heart broke when he heard her shut down cries and saw her tear stained face. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his hands grabbed her head softly and hid it against his chest, immediately feeling a wetness on his shirt, her tears.

A wave of sorries emitted in a low flooded her ears his nose against her head whispering them closely.

— I, you were right, I did listen to some comments, but I doubted myself and if I would be able to have a true relationship, and with you after today I know I have it. — Y/N felt his smile as he talked just by hearing the way he said the words. — When mom talked to me after the race she told me that you were the one and that you looked at me the same way she looks at dad —

The blond haired boy smiled as soon as he felt the smile of her girlfriend on his chest.

With his right hand, the one which he was not holding her with, he cleaned her tears from her face — I love you, so much I can barely hold it inside of myself, okay? You are the best girl someone could ever ask for. — She said it back after that and he repeated it a few times before falling quiet and for a few minutes they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his chest and her head on his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other on her hair softly caressing it.

When they separated her hands went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears she had, now drying. — So, you're staying? — He asked, she simply shook her head — I'll go get ready, i have the cutest outfit planned —

She got up and walked to the bathroom quickly — You had an outfit planned without even knowing if I would get on the podium? — he asked, laying down on the bed — Of course! I felt it in my heart, you know, that you were going to be up there. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it, so I kept it to myself. — Mick smiled, looking at the ceiling, she had felt in her heart that he would be on the podium, how was he supposed to act after knowing that.

— Okay, I'm ready, let's go — She appeared on the room again, wearing a silk dress, black fishnets and a pair of black mary janes on her feet, her hair slightly wet and her eyes painted with a sharp eyeliner.

— You look, great, gorgeous actually — He walked up to her, admiring the way she looked, when he was finally in front of her he kissed her, with love and pureness.

To Mick, Y/N was his superstar and he knew she was hers too.

mickschumacher

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mickschumacher celebrating P2 for the first time and some pics with her.

comments on this post where limited

yourusername i love you <3

gina_schumacher truly proud of you !

taglist ;; @amayakingw @f1wh0r3 @misiafix @dan3avocado @thtbwltts @myaurorasandsadprose @qualitygiantshoepsychic @myescapefromthislife @light-23 @magical-imagination-kgp @leclercsbae @here-comes-the-moose @leclercs-posts

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #taylor swift x f1 #f1 social media au #f1 x you #formula one fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x Y/N #f1 ig au #f1 instagram au

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asmolfolk · 1 year

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Hi! Sooo, theres a tiktok video that is "Ivan, how did you bag that baddie?" and this come to my mind: Tesla, Buddha, Sasaki, Jack and Ares (separate) hcs with a s/o like that? They're like: Idk how, but she picks me up like I'm nothing. Let's just say I can imagine it, lol - Sorry for my English and kisses from Brazil <3

Oh my! A fellow brazilian! I'm also brazilian, so, kisses from the southeast part of Brazil <3 Hope you liked this one, I really loved to make this one, it was very fun!

🥀♥︎.•° Fandom: Shuumatsu no Valkyrie. Characters: Nikola Tesla, Sasaki Kojiro, Jack the Ripper, Buddha and Ares (Separate) Ask: Inspired by the video 'Ivan, how did you bag that baddie?' 🦋♥︎.•°

Nikola Tesla

"Tesla, how did you bag that baddie?" The one who asked him was his friend, Robert... And that got him... Thoughtful. Tesla looked to the side, looking directly at your direction...

He was thinking about the differences between the two of you... And the similarities too. How you react to things, how you smile, how you show affection or interess in something... He is thinking all of those things at the same time. It would be a reason to "Why he stayed", after all, he never showed any interest in love or relationships that were romantical... But seeing that you were just like a Math question... [A lot of outcomes - Needs hard work and understanding to seek the problem...] That was enough to make his mind so... Full of love and interest. Of course, he couldn't not remember how did 'he bag this baddie'... Spoiler, he didn't. He still remember the day you just looked at him and straight up said "Oh, I don't have this color yet" and just picked him up like a cat and walked with him in your arms. He would tell anyone who saw that the exact thing "I accept it for cience!" But the truth was that he just didn't care to be holded... He liked that and the fact that he could still write his notes was a plus one. Since that, both of you started to talk and later on, date... It is still a surprise to most of Tesla's friends... He can still remember the first dates... And now, you are his... Girlfriend, aren't?... He can't be happier. You respect his space and actually, you were the one to start a lot of intimacy stuff with him... You seemed to always knew when he wanted something or when he acknowledges that you want something from him, but was too tired or busy and didn't want to leave you feeling unwanted by his lack of effort... So you - seeming to read his mind - do exactly what he wanted and started to give him some words of affirmation and to be sure that he knows that it's okay to not fit into some category... Or to not want to do something like sex, PDA or others.

It seemed like a he was off for some seconds IRL while in his mind, he just saw yours love story together... When he noticed that, he knew... He knew his answer. He looked to Robert and started his monologue. "Oh, you are surely mistaken, my dear friend. I'm aware of what could give the impression for you to think like that... But!" He stands there, smilling as if he is explaining math to someone "She, indeed, picked me up and straightly putted me into a consensual relationship that I do really, extremely, like." He puts a hand over his heart, as to give emphasys to his next words "This woman has a exceptional mind and strenght... Aren't I a lucky guy? Her mind is as brilliant as mine... Of course, in Differents/Same matters... Do you understand, Robert?" Robert is lost in words, he doesn't know what to say or what to do... After all, he just saw all of his - 'Don't want to date' - friend being so deeply in love with someone... He could only chuckle as his wife carries a surprise and shocked expression. "Oh my! I'm so happy that you found someone that matches you perfectly, Tesla! And her body is so pretty too... She would look awesome in a wedding dress, don't you think so?" "Hm... Wedding? I think it's a strange concept... But if she wants one..." Tesla, even having his disagreements over weddings... He couldn't say no to you. After all... You are his everything.

Sasaki

"Kojiro Sasaki, how did a loser like you bag that baddie over there?" It was the question of his opponent... He was looking directly at your face, seeing how it changed... After all, you were in fiery! How dare them say call Sasaki a loser... And before you could start approaching to 'ora ora' this person face, Sasaki holded your hand to stop you and smiled brightly. "Well... I may be a loser in battle... But she picked me from the ground and made me her boyfriend, resuming the whole story" He told his opponent as he chuckles as he feels you pinching his cheecks a bit "Ow-Ow! Sorry, sweetheart..." He laughing a bit. "It was nothing like that. I saw him on the ground and thought he was deeply hurt, so I carry him home so I could take care of him." You said, explaining it better than Sasaki resume... Or trying to. "...Okay...? Look, I don't really care..." Sasaki's opponent tried to say that but he wasn't heard, now, Sasaki and you were discussing about this first meeting and he seemed overly in joy after hearing your version of the facts. "So... How were you capeable to hold me?" He finally asked "I mean, I'm pretty heavy-" "I carry boxes that weight more than you, Sasaki."

Jack the Ripper

"How a serial killer like you got to bag that baddie?!" That was the question of Hlökk, who was actually curious to know more about this whole relationship between the two of you... After all, nobody seemed to know about Jack's partner. "Oh my... Well, it's interesting that you asked me this... Well, may I just tell you..." He said with his british accent and sweet tone appearing, he was at your side, holding your hand while looking directly at Hlökk. "She was the one and only who got me, who actually had me on her arms... When she was carrying me around." As he said it, his other hand started patting your head "Isn't it the most romantical and sweet thing someone could ever do to their partner? Carrying them around like they weight nothing" His explanation was not meant to make you feel that proud of yourself... Or to blush like you did. But in a way or other, you could only feel how much you matter and is loved by him... He is trully a gentleman. "EWWW, YOU CLINGY OLD MAN!" Hlokk seemed to think in a different way.

Buddha

"Buddha, my deaaaar friend. How did you manage to bag this baddie?!" Said Zeus... The sluttiest god "Oh my me! You should help me get a baddie like her, I swear to you... I give you candies... Hehe" Zeus - again - couldn't hide his horny. "No." A short and straight answer coming from Buddha, who looked unimpressed by Zeus atticts "I'm not helping you cheat on your wife." as he explained that, Zeus only rolled his eyes - remembering that he is married. "Aw,come on, Buddha, my great friend... It's not like I would steal your... Partner~ I just want to know what did you do...!" "...You have some serious problems, Zeus." With that said, Buddha just moved along his way... But Zeus question was enough to make him think about... That. How did this all happened?

You just looked straight at him and picked him up, saying "This is mine." and just straight up runned away from the gods. That was enough to make him be not only proud but happy - that reunion was a really shitty one.

"Hah... It seems like the puberty made her really strong." Remembering that day, Buddha couldn't hide his smile as he made his way towards you... He WILL use you as his pillow, after all, you can pick him up.

Ares

"Not that I don't respect you, Ares... But how did you... And her got together?" Asked Aphrodite with a rather... Amused expression, she seemed to be making fun of him. "How did you just do that? How did you manage that...? Did you finally follow your daddy ways?~ Because I don't see how you couldn't do that properly... You get no bitches at all~" "She isn't a bitch or anything like what dad do with Hera! She is different, I love her... I want her, she is the only one I truly love." He said, with a confused expression. "Oh love? Now you feel that... How patheti-" She is interrupted when you just walked straight to her, looking to her eyes with a hateful rage. "What did you just say to MY partner? Do you have a fucking problem with him?" As you started to swear at Aphrodite... Ares looked at you with a little smile on the face... Finally... He finally has someone who sides with him and stands up for him...

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

Text

Don’t Be Evil

Tonight (November 22), I'll be joined by Vass Bednar at the Toronto Metro Reference Library for a talk about my new novel, The Lost Cause, a preapocalyptic tale of hope in the climate emergency.

My latest Locus Magazine column is "Don't Be Evil," a consideration of the forces that led to the Great Enshittening, the dizzying, rapid transformation of formerly useful services went from indispensable to unusable to actively harmful:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

While some services have fallen harder and/or faster, they're all falling. When a whole cohort of services all turn sour in the same way, at the same time, it's obvious that something is happening systemically.

After all, these companies are still being led by the same people. The leaders who presided over a period in which these companies made good and useful services are also presiding over these services' decay. What factors are leading to a pandemic of rapid-onset enshittification?

Recall that enshittification is a three-stage process: first surpluses are allocated to users until they are locked in. Then they are withdrawn and given to business-customers until they are locked in. Then all the value is harvested for the company's shareholders, leaving just enough residual value in the service to keep both end-users and business-customers glued to the platform.

We can think of each step in that enshittification process as the outcome of an argument. At some product planning meeting, one person will propose doing something to materially worsen the service to the company's advantage, and at the expense of end-users or business-customers.

Think of Youtube's decay. Over the past year, Google has:

Dramatically increased the cost of ad-free Youtube subscriptions;

Dramatically increased the number of ads shown to non-subscribers;

Dramatically decreased the amount of money paid to Youtube creators;

Added aggressive anti-adblock;

Then, this week, Google started adding a five-second blanking interval for non-Chrome users who have adblockers installed:

https://www.404media.co/youtube-says-new-5-second-video-load-delay-is-supposed-to-punish-ad-blockers-not-firefox-users/

These all smack of Jenga blocks that different product managers are removing in pursuit of their "key performance indicators" (KPIs):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

We can think of each of these steps as the outcome of an argument. Someone proposes a Youtube subscription price-hike, and other internal stakeholders object. These objections fall into two categories:

We shouldn't do this because it will make the product worse; and/or

We shouldn't do this because it will reduce the company's earnings.

Lots of googlers sincerely care about product quality. People like doing a good job, and they take pride in making good things. Many have sacrificed something that mattered in the service of making the product better. It's bad enough to miss your kid's school play so you can meet a work deadline – but imagine making that sacrifice and then having the excellent work you put in deliberately degraded.

I have been around Google's orbit since its early days, going to the odd company Christmas party in the early 2000s and giving talks at Google offices in cities all over the world. I've known hundreds of skilled googlers who passionately cared about making the best products they could.

For most of Google's history, those googlers won the argument. But they didn't do so merely by appealing to their colleagues' professional pride in a job well-done. For most of Google's history, the winning argument was a combination of "doing this bad thing would make me sad," and "doing this bad thing will make Google poorer."

Companies are disciplined by three forces:

Competition (the fear of losing business to a rival);

Regulation (the fear of legal penalties that would exceed the expected profits from a given course of action);

Self-help (the fear that customers or users will change their behavior, say, by installing an ad-blocker).

The ability of googlers to win enshittification arguments by appealing to the company's bottom line was a function of one or more of these three disciplining factors. The weakening of each of these factors is the reason that every tech company is sliding into enshittification at once.

For example, when Google contemplates raising the price of a Youtube subscription, the dissent might say, "Well, this will reduce viewership and might shift viewers to rivals like Tiktok" (competition). But the price-hiking side can counter, "No, because we have a giant archive, we control 90% of searches, we are embedded in the workflow of vloggers and other creators who automatically stream and archive to Youtube, and Youtube comes pre-installed on every Android device." Even if the company leaks a few viewers to Tiktok, it will still make more money in aggregate. Prices go up.

When Google contemplates increasing the number of ads shown to nonsubscribers, the dissent might say, "This will incentivize more users to install ad-blockers, and then we'll see no ad-revenue from them." The pro-ad side can counter, "No, because most Youtube viewing is in-app, and reverse-engineering the Youtube app to add an ad-blocker is a felony under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. As to non-app viewers: we control the majority of browser installations and have Chrome progressively less hospitable to ad-blocking."

When Google contemplates adding anti-adblock to its web viewers, the dissent might say, "Processing users' data in order to ad-block them will violate Europe's GDPR." The anti-adblock side can counter, "But we maintain the fiction that our EU corporate headquarters is in the corporate crime-haven of Ireland, where the privacy regulator systematically underenforces the GDPR. We can expect a very long tenure of anti-adblock before we are investigated, and we might win the investigation. Even if we are punished, the expected fine is less than the additional ad-revenue we stand to make."

When Google contemplates stealing performers' wages through opaque reshufflings of its revenue-sharing system, the dissent might say, "Our best performers have options, they can go to Twitch or Tiktok." To which the pro-wage-theft side can counter, "But they have no way of taking their viewers with them. There's no way for them to offer their viewers on Youtube a tool that alerts them whenever they post a new video to a rival platform. Their archives are on Youtube, and if they move them to another platform, there's no way redirect users searching for those videos to their new homes. What's more, any attempt to unilaterally extract their users' contact info, or redirect searchers or create a multiplatform client, violates some mix of our terms of service, our rights under DMCA 1201, etc."

It's not just Google. For every giant platform, the threats of competition, regulation and self-help have been in steady decline for years, as acquisitions, underenforcement of privacy/labor/consumer law, and an increase in IP protection for incumbents have all mounted:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

When internal factions at tech companies argue about whether to make their services worse, there's a heavy weight tilting the scales towards enshittification. The lack of competition, an increase in switching costs for users and business-customers, and broad powers to prevent users from modifying the service for themselves all mean that even when a product gets worse, profits can still go up.

This is the culprit: monopoly, and its handmaiden, regulatory capture. That's why today's antimonopoly movement – and the cases against all the tech giants – are so important. The old, good internet was built by flawed tech companies whose internal ranks included the same amoral enshittifiers who are gobbling up the platforms' seed corn today. The thing that stood in their way before wasn't merely the moral character of colleagues who shrank away from these cynical maneuvers: it was the economic penalties that befell those who enshittified too rashly.

Incentives matter. Money talks and bullshit walks. Enshittification isn't due to the moral failings of individuals in tech companies. It's possible to have a good internet run by flawed people. But to get that new, good internet, we have to support technologists of good will and character by terrorizing their venal and cynical colleagues by hitting them where they live: in their paychecks.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

#pluralistic #microeconomics #incentives matter #microincentives #enshittification #corporate discipline #big tech #competition #too big to fail #too big to jail #ip #dont be evil #google #institutions #locus magazine

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captainsophiestark · 14 days

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The Old Me Never Left

Kai Parker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by Anon! Hope you like it!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Kai's SO gets grabbed by some witches in an attempt to make him cooperate, but those witches forgot exactly who they were dealing with.

Word Count: 1,635

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Just a heads up, this has a little more description of violence and the reader in peril than my works usually do! Still very canon-typical for TVD though.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

My favorite song blasted through my headphones as I walked, the sun gently shining down and making the world around me the perfect temperature. A light breeze blew across my face and I'd just picked up my favorite drink from my favorite cafe. It should've been the perfect moment.

Instead of enjoying the day, however, I was busy glancing in the reflective windows of buildings I passed, trying to keep an eye on the two people behind me. They'd been behind me for a while now, including at the coffee shop I'd stopped at, and my mental warning meter had quickly clicked into the red.

Since I regularly involved myself with supernaturals, especially since I'd started dating one, I'd had to be more on guard than ever for someone coming after me for something to do with all that. Very much inconvenient and sometimes truly terrifying, but lucky for me, I had a secret weapon.

Kai Parker. My boyfriend, and a siphoner-witch who just happened to be one of the most powerful people around. No matter if the threat behind me was supernatural or just regular humans being a problem, I knew Kai could and would take care of it for me.

I sped up slilghtly, chucking my still half-full drink in the trash and pulling my phone out of my pocket. Despite myself, my heart started racing faster, especially as I noticed the people behind me getting noticeably closer the next time I checked in a window. I quickly dialed Kai's number and held the phone to my ear, speeding up even more when I heard running footsteps behind me.

"Hey, sweetheart," came Kai's voice as I started running. I could hear his smile through the phone. "What's up?"

"Kai, I need you to come find me," I said, my voice urgent, the words coming out between fast breaths. "I was on my way to the park. I'm like a block or two away, coming from our cafe, and these people are following me-"

I heard someone behind me shout a word I didn't know, and a moment later, a splitting pain tore through my head. I screamed and fell to the ground, but I knew making a scene wouldn't help; these people were clearly witches. The extra seconds I'd had to talk to Kai were likely only because they'd been busy casting spells to hide me from passerby when I went down.

Vaguely, as I hit the pavement and the world went dark around me, the pounding in my head echoing throughout my body, I thought I heard Kai's voice. He sounded panicked, and he kept repeating my name over and over. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him, to reassure him, to help him with whatever had him freaking out. But I couldn't make myself move, especially not through the pain.

Finally, everything else faded to black, the pain disappearing with the rest of the world as Kai's voice danced through my head for one last blissful moment. And then he was gone, too.

****************

When I woke up, not everything came back to me right away. I wasn't totally sure where I was or how I'd gotten here, but I knew one thing: my body hurt.

Everything, top to bottom, ached or screamed at me in some way. And when the memories started coming back, of the witches and the panic in Kai's voice on the phone, my heart started clenching in my chest, too.

"Look who's awake."

A gruff voice drew my attention to a few figures in front of me. I couldn't totally make them out, my vision still a little blurry, but they clearly weren't friends.

"Who... are you?" I managed to groan. I tried to move, but found myself bound tightly to a chair. My head swam, a pain like a spike still focused into my forehead.

"We're friends of your boyfriend," said one in a tone that clearly meant the opposite. I groaned.

"What do you... want?"

"We want him to get in line," the one in the middle said. "The powerful heretic, wrongful leader of the Gemini Coven, finally has a weakness—you—so it's time for him to start playing nice."

I huffed a laugh which immediately turned into a painful cough. Still, I smiled and shook my head, even as it made the world spin beneath me.

"You're all fools. You can't control Kai, especially not like this."

"Oh, I think you're underestimating your importance to him significantly," said the one in the lead. I started to respond, but a familiar voice piped up from the back of the room before I could.

"Mm, I don't think this has anything to do with 'underestimating importance'. More like... one person in this room knows who I am, and everyone else forgot."

The men before me whirled around, giving me a clear line of sight to Kai as my vision finally started returning to normal. I swear at least half the adrenaline melted out of my body at the sight of him leaning casually against the doorframe of whatever room we were in. He looked completely casual and calm, until his eyes locked onto me. The teasing smile dropped from his face as he straightened, then faced the other witches again. The smile came back, but this time it had a much sharper edge to it.

"You know, it's funny," he said, voice like a steel blade. "People seem to think that just because I've chosen a peaceful life with someone I love, that I lost all my powers, or something. But I can tell you all right now: the Kai Parker of your nightmares didn't go anywhere."

The witches between Kai and I shifted nervously, removing his direct line to me and shifting backwards in my direction.

"You better be careful, Parker," said the one in the lead, all of the arrogance and confidence gone from his voice despite his attempt to posture. "You do what we say, or-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Kai raised a hand, magically yanking the witch forward and striking out with a knife in his other hand, stabbing the witch straight through the heart. The whole room froze in shock as Kai just held him there for a minute, surely siphoning the magic out of his body, before letting him fall to the floor limp and dead.

The minute his body hit the ground, the remaining witches sprang into action. Most of them tried to focus fire on Kai, but one dropped back towards me, moving to stand behind me and my chair. In the time it took him to cross the room, Kai made quick work of the rest of his friends, draining all of their power before finishing them off and dropping them with their fallen leader.

"Stop!" shouted the one behind me. "Don't make another move or I'll- ah!"

He screamed, and I heard a sound like him dropping to his knees. Before me, Kai had one hand extended, a thunderous look on his face. He scrunched his hand into a fist, and the man behind me fell silent, other than the sound of his body hitting the floor.

Just like that, the rage melted off Kai's face. He crossed the room to me in a second, dropping to his knees before me and gently running his hands over my forearms and thighs. A moment later, the bonds holding me fell away.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asked, eyes wide with concern as his hands ghosted over my body, simultaneousy checking for injury while reassuring him I was really here. "I'm so sorry they hurt you. I came as fast as I could."

I nodded shakily, rubbing at my wrists before running a hand down Kai's face. He leaned into the touch, his eyes instantly romaing my expression.

"I'm okay now," I said, voice still a little breathy. "I'm okay. I knew you'd come for me."

"I'll always come for you. Nothing in the world could keep me away. Nothing." I nodded, a smile making its way onto my face as Kai brushed a few tears from my cheek that I hadn't realized had fallen. "And now, none of them are ever going to hurt you again."

Kai's eyes darkened a little as he said it, so I brushed my thumb across his cheek and gave him a small smile. Just like that, the shadows vanished from his face again as his eyes focused on me. I leaned forward and Kai did the same, our lips meeting a moment later in a soft, sweet kiss. I felt the warm tingle of magic flowing across my skin, erasing all the last aches and pains, until Kai and I finally pulled apart.

A fluttering smile made its way onto Kai's face as his eyes scanned mine again. Finally, he sighed.

"You ready to go home, sweetheart?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Me too."

Kai shot me a wink as he scooped me into his arms, then carried me out of the room, stepping carefully over the bodies he'd left in his wake. He held me a little tighter to him as we left the room, and I buried my head in his chest. Kai and I had both changed a lot since we'd first met, but at the end of the day, we were still the same people. He would still do anything for me, and although it didn't come up as often, I would do anything for him. And no one, be they murderous witches or particularly rude people I happened to cross paths with in my daily life, stood at chance at bringing the two of us down.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 8 months

Text

Chain Reaction

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 21: Piercings

Summary: Jake has a surprise for you.

A/N: Don't look at me. (The title amused me, I'm so sorry.) Huge thank you to @lonelyisamyw-0love for listening to my crazed panic and being so reassuring! 💚 Also I have written this is such a mess, and I'm sure there are more typos than normal.

Warnings: TITS. nipple piercings, nipple sucking, oral (both m & f) p in v sex, cream pie, one of those chain things that connect the nipple piercings, typos, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2524

You stared at Jake’s chest. Even if you couldn’t already tell Marc, Steven and Jake apart from the way they held their body and face, you’d be able to tell it was Jake by the choice of clothing. He was wearing a far too tight t-shirt, with a faded picture of a cartoon frog.

The animal was comically stretched across his pecks, but that wasn’t the reason why you were staring.

“You okay there?” He asked, after giving you a minute to get a good eyeful.

“I… erm…”

He smiled wolfishly as he held the front door open for you. “You gonna come in?”

You walked inside on autopilot, still staring at his chest.

“My eyes are up here you know, sweetheart.”

You snap your gaze up to his face, but can’t help yourself and after a couple of seconds your line of sight begins to drift downwards again.

You swallow, your mouth dry. “Since when do you…?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, just below his tits to obviously highlight them. “Since when do I what?” He grins, very much enjoying your attention.

You haven’t known Jake quite as long as Steven or Marc, and while he was very upfront and open about some things he was surprisingly secretive about others. (Usually what information fell into which category seemed completely random.)

“Have piercings there?” You gestured vaguely.

Jake smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

“On your tits.”

Jake burst out laughing, the sound alone enough to brighten your mood to the highest altitudes.

“I was not expecting you to say that.” He grinned and composed himself. This time with his hands on his hip, his chest puffed out and jutted towards you oh so unsubtly. “Since this morning.”

“Since this morning?”

“Right, so,” he took on a mock-serious expression, “there’s this thing called ‘time’, you see, many years ago humans thought it would be best if we kept track of it-”

You waved a hand at his face and he laughed. “You know what I mean.” You said exasperatedly, but still enjoying his gentle teasing.

“Since this morning.” He repeated.

“Do Marc and Steven know?”

“No.”

“No?”

He looked around like he was searching for something. “Is there an echo in here or?”

“Jake.”

He grinned. “They never know.”

“Don’t make me repeat that too. Just…” you gestured with your hands, “explain? Please?”

He smirked for a moment and then beamed, “Oh, all right, just because it’s you, and you asked nicely. But you owe me a favour.”

“Jake-”

He danced a little closer to you. “A good favour, I promise.”

“Hmm.” Bartering favours with Jake was never a good idea.

“Is that a yes?” He grinned in a sing-song voice.

“A maybe.”

“Aww,” he gave you a mock look of hurt. “Not good enough.” He took a step closer to you, putting his hands gently on your waist and giving you a few seconds to move out of his grasp or tell him to stop before he pressed his body up against yours.

You watched him carefully, trying to judge his next move.

“You like them don’t you?” He whispered in your ear, slowly taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers against his chest.

You swallow. The action makes a painfully loud gulp and you glare fruitlessly at Jake as an even bigger grin breaks out on his face.

"Ohhh, you do." He teased.

You gave him a light shove, not enough to make him move. "Jake-"

"Admit you like them and I'll tell you."

You sighed and in your best deadpan voice said, "I like them."

Jake pouted playfully. "Aw, come on," he leaned close to you again, just ghosting his lips over your neck. "You can do better than that."

"Jake." You growled, just managing to suppress the shiver that threatened to undermine you.

He chuckled at your expression, "all right, all right, so the others don't know because I pierce them-"

"You pierce them yourself?"

He gave you a look. "Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to keep interrupting?"

You made a show of closing your mouth and inclined your head in apology.

He smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Anyway, yes, I pierce them. Had them done professionally a few times and then I thought, fuck it I'll just do it myself and bought a piercing kit."

Other questions bubble up in your mind but you fight the urge to interrupt and stay quiet.

"So, I pierce them, put on the suit. Healing powers." he gestures to his chest, "As long as I've got the piercings in," he lightly touches the metal on his right nipple, "then wham, bam, thank you god of the moon, it all heals up as if I've had them pierced for years. Then I go about my 'day'," every so often Jake would have a planned 'day' where he asked if he could front solo, a 'Jake Care Day' as he called it. "Before bed, take the piercings out, suit, thank you god of the moon, it’s the only thing you’re good for.”

You giggle at the little Khonshu dig.

“And," he gestured to his chest dramatically, "it's like none of it ever happened."

You stared at him for a moment. "That's very clever."

Jake grinned at your praise, puffing his chest out once more.

"I have two questions."

"Of course."

"Why don't you tell Marc and Steven?"

Jake shrugged, "It's my thing… I don't have to tell them everything."

You nod.

"Second question?"

"It's not a Jake Care Day today."

His grin widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "No, it's not."

"And you knew I was coming over today."

"Yes," he presses his lips against yours. "I did."

You chuckle as he kisses you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body close to his. You purposefully make sure that the piercing presses against your chest. “So,” you say between slow kisses, “you wanted me to see them.”

He hums a conformation into your mouth. “Thought you’d like them.”

“And what gave you that impression?” You try to put a level of indignation into your tone to tease but fail spectacularly.

Jake chuckles and nips at your lip. “You’re kinky like that.”

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kinky?”

He hums again, licking into your mouth and starts to walk you back across the flat and towards the bed. “You are.”

You sink your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his soft curls. “You’re the one with the piercings in the first place.”

“I never said I wasn’t kinky.”

“Oh,” you pause for a second and smile. “Alright then.”

He stops just as the back of your legs hit the side of the bed. “I do have something else… that goes with them.” He raises his eyebrows a little at the end.

You pause, trying to fight the excitement that grows in your belly. “Do you?”

“Hmm.” He nods, “I can show you if you’d like?”

“Go on.” You say as calmly as you can manage and sit down on the edge of the bed.

He grins and gives you a quick kiss before practically bouncing towards the bathroom.

You chuckle to yourself at how absolutely apparent it is that Jake had thought about and planned the whole thing. It makes a little twist of warmth grow in your chest.

However when he comes out, leaning against the door frame for you to get a proper look, your breathing stills. And, for a moment, you forget that your lungs need air.

He had taken off his frog t-shirt and was now wearing a silver metal chain connecting the two piercings.

Your mouth went dry.

He raised his shoulders ever so slightly. “You like?”

You nodded your head rapidly, “You better come over here or I’m going to fuck you on the floor.”

Jake laughed. “Promises, promises.” But he made a show of coming towards you when you motioned to stand.

He kissed your lips then your cheek, nuzzling against your jaw and neck. “Do you really like it?” He whispered, the smallest hint of self-consciousness in his voice. Something you hadn’t heard from Jake before.

“I love it.” Lightly, you ran the tips of your fingers over his left nipple, the metal was warm. Unsurprising considering it was right up against Jake’s skin, but it still amused you.

Jake shivered under your touch.

“Are they sensitive?” You asked.

“Hmm,” he nodded, leaning closer to you and slowly pushing you back onto the bed. “Yeah, in a good way.”

You flicked the metal and he gasped, biting his lip a little as he wriggled between your heads and ground his growing erection against your core.

The look on his face made heat pool in your stomach. You pinched around his nipples more firmly this time, and when he closed his eyes and let out a soft moan you dipped down just a little and flicked your tongue over his left piercing.

“Oh shit.” He groaned low in his throat, bucking instinctively up into your clothed heat.

You smiled widely and did it again, swirling your tongue around the tip before sucking his nipple and piercing between your lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god, yes!” He pressed closer to your warm, wet mouth, bucking unthinkingly as he grinds his cock against your clit.

You let go with a pop and his whines of protest are quickly silenced as you flip him over onto his back and straddle his thighs.

His skin is lightly flushed, a red mark quickly forming where you had sucked.

You quickly shimmer down between his legs and pull off his trousers and underwear as Jake watches you with adoring eyes.

He squirms a little under your touch as you lightly trace the large vein on the underside of his cock, slipping down to massage his heavy balls. The muscles in his thighs jumping under your attention.

You waste little time and quickly take him into your mouth, moaning as the salty precum hits your tongue.

Jake arches his back, crying out a string of expletives as you bob up and down and fisting the bed covers as he tries to keep himself together.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he groans loudly, thrusting shallowly up into your mouth, “please, yeah, like that,” his eyes are screwed shut, his eyebrows pinched together as he moans.

You sink lower, sucking hard and revelling in the sharp cry that escapes Jake’s lungs.

He bucks up twice before his hands are on your jaw, firmly pulling you off him. You don’t get a chance to question him, as he leans up and covers your mouth with kisses and pulls at your clothes.

He moves away just long enough to get your top over your head. “Sit on my face.” He demands, his lips swollen and pink.

When you nod he eagerly rids you of the rest of your clothing and helps to manoeuvre your thighs to either side of his face. You wiggle a little as you get comfortable, facing towards his legs.

Jake guides you down with his strong hands on your hips, leaning up eagerly to swipe his tongue through your soaking folds and groaning happily.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second as he slips deliciously inside. Then, a small thought comes into your mind and you lean a little forward. Carefully you take hold of the chain connecting his piercings, Jake doesn’t notice at first, too preoccupied with the taste of you to care about anything else.

That is, until you give the chain a gentle tug and he moans loudly into your aching pussy, his dick twitching desperately against his stomach.

“Ugh,” he pulls his mouth away just far enough to get his words out clearly but snakes his hand around so that he can circle your clit softly. “Do that again.”

You don't need to be told twice.

This time you tug harder, but make sure that the force isn’t too much to cause any actual damage. He whines against your cunt, thrusting his tongue in deep and sending the reverberations of the sound across your pussy.

Pleasure sparks up your spine and you grind down onto him in earnest, your own cries getting louder as he devours you like a man starved.

You keep pulling at the chain, jerking it like the reins of a horse at gallop.

His hips buck up, his dick desperately searching for something to help to relieve the mind-numbing ache in his stomach.

You have just enough coherent thoughts to reach down with your free hand and caress the tip, smearing his precum down his shaft before you start to pump him.

Jake moans loudly, losing himself in the sensation for a moment before pulling his mouth away. “Baby, wait, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum. Let me fuck you please.”

You let go of him and the chain, the soft desperate whine in his voice sending a sharp thrill through you.

He quickly moves and pulls you into his lap. You don’t need any further instruction and take hold of his throbbing cock in your hand and slowly begin to sink down.

He swears, burying his face into your neck and huffing his hot breath over your skin as he moans. “Fuck yessss.”

He wants to sob at the relief of finally being in you, finally being surrounded by your tight, wet heat.

You barely give him a second to adjust as he bottoms out before you're moving again, grinding up and down on his thick cock as he hits so deeply at that perfect spot inside. With one hand on his shoulder and the other lightly pulling at the chain you begin to pick up speed, your own orgasm growing and growing in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, yes, you love it, don’t you? Love pulling on my chain, gonna-fuck, gonna pull me around like I’m your little slut aren’t you? Gonna cum on my cock and-shit!” He groaned deeply as you whined and clenched around him. “Gonna make me cum,” he sobbed.

“Yeah?” You managed to say through your lust-hazed brain.

He nodded desperately.

“What if I don’t let you?”

“No.” He sobbed, looking up at you desperately. “Please, please- fuck, been thinking about it all day, please!”

You moaned and kissed him hard, your hips starting to get sloppy and lose their rhythm as you neared your peak.

Jake bucked up against you, grabbing hold of your waist and guiding you so that you could chase your orgasm.

You bit your lip hard as it neared, digging your hands into his shoulders, “cum in me Jake, please.” You moaned just as your orgasm crested.

“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting wildly as you gave the chain a sharp pull, retching his own climax from his body.

He spurted hot and deep inside, his hips bucking wildly as pleasure overtook his nerves and thoughts.

You moaned with him as pleasure washed over your body and left you weak.

As you both breathed hard and relaxed, Jake fell back onto the mattress, pulling you down on top of him. He grinned happily as he looked up at you and kissed you softly.

____________________________________

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