gi

literally me:

katie ledecky and her 14 olympic medals do not need to beat michael phelps in the 800m freestyle for both of them to be the greatest swimmers ever. serena williams and her 23 grand slams do not need to beat the big three for them to be GOATs of tennis. aryna sabalenka and iga swiatek do not need to beat carlos alcaraz and jannik sinner to be modern icons of the sport.

all of these women are accomplished in their own right and strive for greatness just like any male athlete. they are strategic, fast, powerful, and as ruthlessly competitive as anybody. the stakes are always high, evident in the passion, frustration, emotion, and elation of every match.

channik, 5k/?? words, 1/5 chapters, tennis player! Charles Leclerc, age-gap, tennis au, psychosexual games turn into coaching? a relationship?, smut, angst, fluff, playlist.

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same. or; Jannik Sinner needs a new coach. The Monegasque Maestro answers the call.

I have not finished writing chapter 4, the ao3 author curse has struck me once again and i now have a great case of anxiety going on and a fucking stressful job in the local administration, BUT! As you may know, I'm Italian, and today march 22 and tomorrow march 23 will be pivotal days for our democracy. we're voting on a referendum that our fascist government made to control the judicial power and turn our democracy, again, into a fascist regime... So I said, let's publish the chapter, if there are any italian friends stressed over the outcome of the vote, and to urge other italians to vote "NO" at the referendum. Every vote counts, and i know two people read this, but two people voting no is better than nobody voting... So, yeah! Voting and then porn to celebrate being a democracy lover!

the playlist is updated also!

Hope you enjoy it!!

Plot: The Monegasque waits for a second before inhaling roughly and speaking.

"No, but I need two favours, actually, Professor," Charles says, keeping his head on the desk.

"Uhm, yeah?" Max asks, scratching his head.

"Could I call you Max just for my next question?" Charles asks.

"Uhm, a little unorthodox, but if it's relevant to your point, yes, you may, Charles," The Dutchman answers, his pitch raised just a bit.

Charles bangs his head against the desk once again, nearly cursing before speaking again.

"What I wanted, Jesus, sorry, what I wanted to ask you, Max, was if you'd like to go out, on a date, with me?" Charles asks and he doesn't dare look at Max to see his reaction.

Did anyone ask for a beefy 40yo professor max and young dilf Charles? Because here it is!!!! The beloved Professor Max au, which happens to be a kid fic! hope you like it darlings, have an happy Christmas Eve💖💖