#and also...that it's gabbie...not gabi...

[prinxe]

I made a decent chunk of change over christmas at my sales job so I decided to invest in something I've always wanted, a tablet to draw on.

My first proper Procreate doodle. Here's a Gabbie. Bsky seemed to like her.

[maclove54]

hoppy hopscotch is secretly a angel hare and gabby has come to visit

Who would tell that there’s actually an archangel named Haamaliel that is a leader of the Powers with Archangel Gabriel? Thank you, google.

(Also, I actually love that ARG, thank you for the ask. ToT💖💜✨🌸)

[peppermintquartz]

Epilogue: First & Forever

presented by @quintessenceofdust88 and @peppermintquartz

---

Aurora is one year old. Buck can hardly believe it, and he’s not sure if it’s because it feels like too much or too little.

He knows he can barely remember what life was like before her, that much is true. Without waking up and going to her nursery, seeing her happy little face smiling up at him and, as of the last two weeks, squealing ‘DA!’ when he comes close enough, making grabby hands for him. Without cooing over photos and videos of her when he's at work. Without ending his days off by giving her a bath and then handing her to Tommy for her last feeding of the day (theoretically they’ve started the weaning process, but her bedtime milk is sacred , and the last one Tommy intends to cut) and then watch her fall asleep, his arms wrapped around Tommy’s waist as they admire this little miracle they created. Their little Firefly.

He remembers how time had crawled before they could bring her home. And then, after that first blissful day, Aurora Joy Kinard up-ended their routines completely. Buck did his best to cope solo, since Tommy’s energies were reserved for feeding Rory and his own physiotherapy, but it did get overwhelming after the first week. If not for Buck’s parents stepping up to help with housework, their home would be completely overrun with dirty laundry and unwashed dishes. For two weeks the Buckleys took over the tedious work of keeping the house inhabitable until Tommy and Buck got used to having Rory in their lives. It helped to heal a lot between Buck and his parents, and he was genuinely sad when they went back to Pennsylvania after nearly a month out west.

Then there were the sleepless nights and restless days while she fussed until she got used to the new routine, especially after their paternity leave was up; the fevers that scared the shit out of her fathers; the bouts of clinginess and then rejection of each of her parents based on some internal whimsy.

And of course there was the Colic from Hell. How they survived those weeks has to be a miracle.

[read more on AO3]

[vikstenius]

POV youve just walked into training day in London Colney

[nonappetittk]

Why are names so fucking hard ???

I have never in my life spelled a name correctly

[oharaslove]

҉ 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙨

The Other Spider’s POV

Jess would always pop into Miguel’s office from time to time to one: check on him, despite him always saying he was fine, and two, to check how everything was going, with the Multiverse, the other spiders, missions etc. 

All the meetings went around the same. She would start talking, and Miguel would grunt or answer shortly. Though, as time went by, he began appearing happier? Well, maybe that wasn’t the word, but there was a shift. Jess couldn't put her finger around it, but she was keeping a close eye on her friend. 

Despite that, it came as a surprise when once, in one of those usual meetups, she found a cushion sitting on Miguel’s desk. “What 's this?” she had asked, picking up the pillow and examining it. “Nothing.” he had answered, barely looking her in the eye. “You know, if you need some rest, a bed is better than your desk.” “Whatever.”

She left the conversation at that, but from the looks of it, the pillow meant more than Miguel had let her know. As she suspected, some days later, when she was stepping up to Miguel’s platform, she almost stumbled with a box. Said box contained the pillow she had found, but also a blanket. Way too cute for Miguel. 

Jess smirked, “So, what was it? Do you need to rest or do you sneak someone here when we aren’t watching?” “I don’t know what you are talking a–” Miguel began answering as he turned around, but he was cut short when he looked at what Jess had at her feet. Miguel cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, really. Just some things that remind me of… Gabi! Yes, Gabi!” Miguel finished his sentence and turned around quickly, hiding his expression from her. “Mmm, okay. Let’s pretend I believe you. Just, maybe keep this under the desk if you don’t want people to find out.” She stated, gently pushing the box under Miguel’s desk with her foot. 

“I’m happy for you, you know?” She said, as she was about to leave the office. “There’s nothing to be happy about.” Miguel answered. “There sure isn’t”. And so, Jess left the office with a hint of someone making its way to Miguel’s cold heart.

Peter B was carrying Mayday, as usual. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel had asked him to leave her out of this. He wouldn’t get it. He needed to take care of his little girl. (Author note: do I resent Peter B a little for shoving Mayday down Miguel’s throat when HE WAS FUCKING THERE, when Mig lost Gabby? A little)

He swung into the office like it was his. “Miguel! My man. How are you doing?” “Peter,” Miguel growled. “How’s everything going?” Peter asked, looking around the office. “Oh sweet! You got a couch!” He swung towards it and slumped against it. “This is nice. Good decoration, I always said this office needed more things. It’s always so… dark.” “That’s not–” “Do you even use it? Why is it here?” “Yes! I use it.” Miguel stated, cold as usual. “I can barely fit in.” Peter answered, laying down on the couch, stretching as far as he could with Mayday on his chest. “How do you?” he asked. “I sit.” “Fair”

Weeks later, when Peter B. entered the lab again, a new couch was sitting there. “Oh now you can fit in here. Useful for power naps” “I don’t do power naps” “Then, why change the couch?” “Not your business” “Jeez, okay… Mayday no!”

Mayday had jumped from her father’s arms and swung onto Miguel’s platform. She had stuck on the side of it, and curiously began opening drawers. 

Before Miguel or Peter could stop her, she pulled out a chocolate bar from the top drawer. “Mayday, give me that!” Peter B. caught up to her and took her in his arms, snatching the bar out of her baby grip. “You can’t eat this–” he took a peek into Miguel’s drawer and saw all the other snacks laying around. “Woo, what’s all this?” Miguel didn’t answer, he just closed the drawer fast and continued with his work. 

Mayday was strangely looking up, giggling to herself and waving. Peter B. tried to follow her gaze, but nothing caught his eye. 

Little did they know, there was another Spider looking from above. 

Miguel’s POV

The things began appearing not because you took them to his space, but because Miguel ✧cared✧. 

He noticed how you liked sitting on his desk while visiting. At first, he thought it was because of the lack of another chair, so he got one. 

Despite the new sitting arrangement, the desk was still your preferred spot. You even fell asleep there sometimes. Given the new information, Miguel decided to keep the chair, but he wanted to surprise you. So before your usual (not scheduled, but he remembered when you liked to pop up) time of arrival, he placed the cushion on your regular spot. 

Later, Miguel’s heart couldn’t help but clench seeing your sleepy form. He didn’t know if you were actually cold or you just liked sleeping like that. But seeing you sleeping form curling on your self made him want to hug you and never let you go. So, one day the blanket appeared. You didn’t really need it, but once you were asleep, Miguel would always drape it over you. 

How could you sleep on the table? It was horrible. Miguel couldn’t quite understand. That, plus some thoughts he shouldn’t be having –like when you were asleep, he had an itch to caress your face with his hand, cup your cheek and give you a little kiss. Just a quick little peck in your forehead, puffed cheeks, nose, lips…– Anyway!

Clearly, your proximity was driving him insane. Thus, with the excuse or reason (to convince himself) of getting you more comfortable (and out of his space, even if deep down, he really didn’t care), the couch appeared. 

At first, you refused to take it, no matter how Miguel practically begged you to use it. He needed you to. He was losing his self control. Your scent linger everywhere, despite the fact you had left hours prior. Your voice calmed him down, something he thought was impossible. And, worse of it all, your rhythmic breathing when you were asleep lulled him to do the same. He wanted to curl beside you, pull you close and rest his eyes and mind for hours. Just with you by his side. 

Miguel knew you were probably better off without him. But, he was selfish. Thus, he was going to step back a little, but not let you go entirely. The discussion continued for probably half an hour, until Miguel gave in and you won. How could you not? Miguel folds like a fucking lawn chair just looking at your eyes and I’ll defend this with my life. 

So, he ends up letting you fall asleep at your usual spot, before carrying you bridal style to the couch. Lyla teased him about it, but he brushed it off. He was pushing his feelings down, scared of them bursting out every time you were near him. The folder Lyla created with pictures she took of both of you didn’t help. Miguel had stumbled upon it by mistake, and he would love to say he deleted it or ignored it. But, that wasn’t the case…

After a while… you realised what Miguel was doing. So, you began pretending to fall asleep on the table, and then, when he began carrying you to the couch, you would use what Miguel calls your power of persuasion, to make him lay there with you. He resisted at first, he really did. 

Though, one evening, you were really sleepy. Your eyes closed from time to time, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, Miguel could tell. He whispered to you that it was okay, that you could sleep. But, you answered that you wanted to be close to him, that you knew that once you were in the dream realm, he was going to take you to the couch. You pouted at him, telling him how the couch was cold without him. Miguel felt a sudden urge to tell you the real reason why he had to “push” you away, but he got scared. Luckily, you took the leap of faith. Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, your lips smashing against his. Needless to say, that was the first day Miguel slept next to you. Uncomfortably, but warm to his heart. 

Obviously, you begging Miguel to sleep with you became a habit. Miguel didn’t always give in (his heart wanted to, but his brain was telling him that the multiverse needed his attention). But, let’s say twice or thrice a week, Miguel would find himself beside you, laying on the couch. Your head in his chest, his cheek resting on top of it, while he played with your hair. Because of this, the second, bigger, couch appeared. 

Lastly, you began spending more and more time with Miguel. That meant, you became hungry and thirsty as hours went by. Miguel knew how much you hated going to the cafeteria, lots of people, waaay too many. So, that’s how the snack drawer came to be. He learnt what your favourite foods, snacks and drinks were, and kept them on easy access, where you didn’t need to leave the comfort of his office. For your benefit, and for his. 

THE END

: ̗̀➛ masterlist : ̗̀➛ ao3

I just thought this would be cute. From someone whose love language is nor physical touch nor words of affirmation, I feel like doing those things, showing you care matters too. Some people don't understand it, but fuck them.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Between heaven on earth and a hard place - Gabriel Bortoleto x reader

Gabriel and you were perfectly capable of enjoying the winter holiday without his family. If you were a normal couple in their early 20s it would be a no-brainer. Unfortunately the F1 calendar gave your boyfriend the schedule from hell and you didn't want to take time from his parents or siblings. Better you tag along on the trip than stay at home, right? Apparently not when you're ovulating and only have one thing on your brain. Gabby is on board with trying to get eachother as turned on as you can without getting caught or arrested. All the testosterone from the grid was catching up to him, apparently. It was either that or seeing you exclusively in sundresses and bikinis. You justified it by saying you needed to pack light since you were flying economy. If Gabi wasn't so committed to Formula One, he'd just spend the whole year with you in Brazil. Work a normal auto related nine to five and have late night swims in the crystalline waters. Watch you try to chase him around after he expertly unties your top. Or the bikini bottoms that didn't cover much anyway. Local customs, he thinks and remembers the first time you visited him. How you thought Gabriel was pranking you when he showed you the "largest size" they had at the shop.

"Darling, the only thing I can do with this is use it as dental floss." You say, holding the garment like it offended you. In the end you have to borrow a pair of his swimming trunks that sort of match the top. That same day you saw at least 7 women topless, so that was a sign to relax.

Now you were a teensy-tinsy more comfortable. Not nipples out for the future in-laws yet, but at least secure enough to pack both a one piece and a more "daring" one. That white number with cherries was currently plaguing Gabi's mind as he fists his cock in the bathroom. He hadn't gotten morning wood since he was younger. Now he was embarrassingly hard over the concept of you. He spits in his palm as he rubs himself fast and frantic. He reckons that if he sneaks into your room and asks you to suck his cock until he comes, you would. Now he's remembering how perfect your mouth feels around him, how you swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick when a sharp knock against the door brings him back to reality. He stops just as fast as he hits the breaks an inch away from the wall in Singapore. He prays that it's his brother or his father, someone who will never bring up Gabi walking out still half-hard. Then he hears the magic words.

"Come on, please, you never had to pee in the morning?" It's you. He pulls you in and thanks the lord you're too stunned to speak. Turns around and even lets you run the tap while you go. As much as he loves you, you are not "pee with the door open" level yet.

"I went to look for you earlier, and you weren't there. Have you been holed up here all morning?" You ask.

"Needed something. Couldn't go back to bed hard and didn't wanna think about finding tissues or anything like that. Just had to feel good, that's all." Gabriel admits. Better have his girlfriend knowing he's horny than thinking he's constipated or doomscrolling his way into Italian brainrot again.

"Missing me, Bibi? Should've just said so, not like I didn't basically hump my pillow until it felt you were teasing me post- race." He had once asked you to sit in his lap while he was still in his fireproofs. That quickly turned into you riding his thigh, leaving your mark on the Sauber green. Thank God he was authorized to clean the suit himself.

"Not fair." He protested, as if forgetting he was also doing the same. He couldn't help but trail his fingers over his length , feeling himself twitch at the thought of you coming.

"Can still help you, you know." You expect Gabi to ask you to kneel. To let you take his cock in your mouth. Hold your face lovingly as he thrusts his hips carelessly.Something quiet and quick that won't make either of you even more frustrated. But Gabi grips your hips and pulls you close to him like you're oxygen. Kisses you and moves his body against his, making you feel his dick against yourself. He takes off your clothes despite you trying to reason with him. Both of you know that all he would need from you in order to stop was a word. A simple no, or an enough would have him back to his onanism. But as dangerous as it was, you wanted your boyfriend to fuck you in the middle of his family bathroom. Needed it. Craved the newness of having him raw. Apparently Gabi had similar thoughts because he asked you

"Can I put it in? We haven't tried it like that before. Would it be okay to?"

You nod, morning brain too foggy to care. You needed to brush up on your Brazilian anyway, so what better way than buying contraceptives? Gabi rubs you through your underwear, finding it wet already. Curls two fingers and moves them like he has no other objectives in life. You have to pull up your t-shirt and bite it, giving your boyfriend a great view of your tits. He can't help himself any longer or he would turn into a two pump chump. Gabriel makes you spread your legs and moves his hips between them. Grips your waist and thrusts, burying his cock inside of you. It's slow, and enjoyable, it's freeing, it's everything you could want and more. He moves against you and bend your back. He has to use the F1 reflexes he gained over the years to stop you from accidentally slamming your head in the wall. He did not need to star in a Brazilian remake of Sex sent me to the ER, thank you very much. Instead he repositions his arms against you and asks that you bend.

"Don't worry, I got you. Won't let you fall, promise." He reassures you. You pray to Sabrina Carpenter and bend, remembering all the gym classes. A bridge had never been your strength. But now, surpringly your body was moving. Your head was almost at the level of your ass by the time Gabi moves again. Maybe it's the fact that your blood flow is all wonky. Maybe it's how your boyfriend can support you and still drive his cock so deep inside you you're seeing stars. Either way this is the best sex you've ever had. Both of you are so invested in the act that you completely miss the footsteps down the stairs. His brother makes a uturn to the kitchen though, much too focused on a fresh cup of coffee to hear the faint moans. Gabi doesn't need much to cum, few more thrusts and he's coming into your wet pussy. The last few thrusts get you there too and by the time he's fucking his cum into you, you're squeezing him.

"Well that's one way to start a morning. Next time let's just book a mini vacation just the two of us. Then we can come here and spend some time with your parents." You suggest.

Gabi pretends to consider it as he sacrifices the towel hanging there to clean up between your legs.

"Deal. But we can still do this again, once or twice. Feels good. Way better than I expected." He says finally.

[anewbeginningagain]

Seven years into retirement, Virtue and Moir still share an Olympic bond

Superstar figure skating duo cherish their 2018 gold medals and the way they captivated a global audience

This is a great interview with Tessa and Scott. Not only is their post-retirement relationship sounds normal and healthy, but their response to Gabi's book is supportive and respectful.

I want to ask you guys about Gabriella Papadakis’s book, Pour ne pas disparaître (So as Not to Disappear). She was critical of her former partner, Guillaume Cizeron – whom she won the Beijing 2022 Olympics Games with – calling him controlling and demanding, which he denies. NBC recently removed her from a commentator role at the Milan Olympics after concerns about her ability to be neutral, as Cizeron will be competing with his new partner, Laurence Fournier Beaudry. Gabriella also said in the book that in 2018 she was rooting for you two to make a mistake while competing against you. What was your reaction? Scott: I haven’t seen all of the quotes myself, but I think that’s her going back into her mind in 2018 as a young athlete. I don’t think that’s the way they finished their career. It feels like the book is a very honest exploration of her feelings in many ways. I can say, as someone who watched a lot of Gabby-Guillaume tape, there must be some leftover emotional resentment just from that breaking up. I can’t imagine ever skating with somebody else, and so to see Guillaume skating with someone else, I’m sure that it’s very difficult. People don’t really understand how intense that relationship is. Virtue: It makes me think about the perils of competition and pressure and stress and the vulnerability that comes with putting your art form out there. There’s so much to it when you’re in competition. I don’t believe you’d find an athlete out there that didn’t have similar thoughts now and then.