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#it’s freaking free real estate

dhaaruni · 20 days

Text

If you liked Bridgerton, here are other historical romances with the same tropes:

Virgin-Meets-Rake (Season 1, Simon and Daphne):

When the Duke was Wicked by Lorraine Heath: She's a witty debutante who's the jewel of the season, he's a seasoned rake mourning the death of his wife and child with excessive hedonism, and she recruits him to teach her how to attract a husband

The Lady Gets Lucky by Joanna Shupe: She's a shy heiress and master chef who struggles to talk to men, he's an irreverent scoundrel and would-be restaurant owner she recruits to teach her lessons to catch a husband

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas: The villain in It Happened One Autumn enters a marriage-of-convenience with an heiress with a stutter (whose best friend he kidnapped, whoops) and at one point he goes, "I’m Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can’t be celibate. Everyone knows that," and isn't being ironic.

Nine Rules to Break when Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean: She's on-the-shelf and deeply bored, he's a rake who's suddenly been given custody of his irreverent and wild teenage half-sister, she recruits him to help her be rebellious

Bound by Your Touch by Meredith Duran: He's a (seemingly) silly dandy, she's impossible to charm, and he shatters her facade

Enemies-To-Lovers** (Season 2, Anthony and Kate):

Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart by Sarah MacLean: She loves causing trouble, he totally hates getting her out of it, she's wild, he's starchy, and they fall madly in love

The Notorious Lord Knightly by Lorraine Heath: She's the viperous writer who's publishing explosive smut starring him, her former fiancé that jilted her at the alter, and they find each other again

The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe: She's a free-spirited heiress whose reputation was ruined ages ago, he's a broke Duke looking for a wife to fill his coffers and fix his estate, they see each other for who they truly are

It Happened One Autumn (and its precursor Then Came You) by Lisa Kleypas: two iterations of the classic, "free spirited woman meets buttoned-up man who loathes her and is kind of a freak in the sheets" trope in the best way possible. Also, Alex buys Lily a bear in Then Came You, which obviously made me cry

All the Ways to Ruin a Rogue by Sophie Jordan: His best friend is her brother, and they really want to fuck but hate it

Notorious Pleasures by Elizabeth Hoyt: She's engaged to his brother, they meet when she walks in on him fucking another woman, HATES her for being perfect, she hates him for being a degenerate loser, and infidelity ensues.

** These are true enemies-to-lovers books, not that hella lame rivals-to-lovers shit that's all over contemporary romances of late

Friends-To-Lovers (Season 3, Colin and Penelope):

The Lady Hellion by Joanna Shupe: Sophia is trying to solve a mystery (and dresses up as a man in the process), and recruits her friend (and one-time kissing buddy) Lord Quint to teach her how to shoot. She's exasperating, he's charmed and there's a puppy involved.

The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan: She's a genius botanist but can't share her research since she's a woman, and he's her public face but refuses to continue anymore. He's always been in love with her, she's as oblivious as they come.

My Fake Rake by Eva Leigh: She's a scientist, he's an anthropologist, they're longtime friends and she recruits him to help her make a visiting naturalist jealous but ends up falling for him herself

Ravishing the Heiress by Sherry Thomas: They're in a marriage of convenience, but end up becoming real friends in the process before they realize they're in love

The Duchess Hunt by Lorraine Heath: He's a Duke looking to get married, she's his secretary and most trusted friend, he recruits her to find him a wife and they fall madly in love in the process

Forever Your Rogue by Erin Langston: He's her brother's friend who is recruited to help her manage her estate when her husband dies. She flits around constantly in anxiety and never sits still, and he likes it.

This should get you started!

#book blogging #romance novels #book recs #Personal #bridgerton

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

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TW for mild unreality

So in a lot of DP x DC crossovers I notice that everyone instantly makes the connection of infinite realms = ghosts. But what if they didn't? I mean, to most humans ghost equals dead person. Not everyone in the infinite realms is dead.

Instead, what if everyone thought it was a realm similar to the Fae Realms? A place where everything is only as real as you want it to be, where the land itself lives and breathes and changes it's form every which when. Perhaps that's why the Fentons think of ghosts as mischievous semi-sentient tricksters, they misread some older texts talking about them.

And they could be right in a way. What if dead ghosts are actually the souls of people who caught the attention of the realms/someone in them and so the realms grabbed their soul upon death to keep. If liminality means you're a guaranteed ghost then maybe that's the realms' way of keeping track of Interesting People so they know when they're up for grabs (they were patient and let you live out your life without interference, it's only polite).

But then, why are ghosts so quick to jump to fistfights now instead of battles of wit? Well that's because of Pariah Dark. The older kings were all the cleverest, the smartest, and perhaps Pariah was clever in a way (he turned a battle of wits he would surely lose into a battle of power after all, and that takes some wit in and of itself) but he valued power and physical might more and so the realms changed to reflect that. And then Danny came along. A small baby child who beat Pariah AT HIS OWN GAME. A child who employs both might and wit in equal measure because he knows the value of both. That small child, king of Ice and Snow, Little Prince, Boy King, a Strategist, a Warrior, that tiny kid is now the King. And the realms change once more to reflect that.

So when Danny is crowned King the ghost zone goes back to being similar to Faerie, only with more fights because Danny is not afraid to straight up punch someone (he's kinda feral like that).

So on the DC side of things maybe there's a summoning (accidental or cult induced), or Danny ends up in the watchtower/Gotham/important place, or maybe the League decide they have enough time to scout out Amity Park and figure out what's going on. They meet Danny, who calls himself a ghost, and are like "You're not like the other ghosts I've met but I don't know enough to refute that" and eventually it gets back to Constantine about this "ghost" boy, and he FREAKS OUT. This is an Infinite Realms denizen, a people similar to Unseelie Sidhe in all the legends, him being a ghost just means he was (or would be, time likes to wander in the realms. Sometimes the present is the future and that past has Not Yet Occurred) interesting enough to nab when he died! And they've been TALKING to him?? That's how you get their attention! You don't want their attention! It's bad enough that Red Hood has a guaranteed fast track there with the sheer amount of Realms Energy swirling around him ever since his resurrection he doesn't need any more people putting up massive I AM HERE signs willy nilly! Just because most denizens are willing to wait until you die to try and steal you away, that doesn't mean that all of them are. And now that Pariah Dark is gone, and the New King is perfectly willing to entertain wit and humor in his court once more, well. It's free real estate.

TLDR the Infinite Realms are Fae-Adjacent and Constantine is Terrified.

I-

this is just incredible. I have no words. I am in awe.

#bones replies #halfcybergremlin #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom

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myfanfic-urfantrash · 4 months

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God I love me some possessive men-am thinking about HSR daddies with their Omega mate that suddenly goes into heat while their in public/crowded area. (๑/////๑ " )

Them being both worried and protective bc other alphas are starting to take interest. While their poor spouse is just there, clinging for dear life.

Imagine this was before they bonded- free real estate for other alphas to swoop in to woo the poor thing.

IMAGINE IF SOME OF THE ALPHAS DO CHALLENGE THEM ONG (⸝⸝˃ ་། ˂⸝）

Blade would probably be the worst out of all of them. Bro would be pissed as hell. He's ready to fight the world.

Jing Yuan probably would either be very calm, Instead trying to get you someplace safe, or freaking tf out & growling.

Welt, my poor bby would be very concerned (♡´𓋰`♡) prioritizing his mate's wellbeing first. But would he step up if another Alpha would challenge him?

Kyaaaaaaaaaa >-<

I am entertained by your emoticons and your stunning mind :o

Including Luocha cause I keep leaving him out of things.

CW: omegaverse, violence and death mention.

-------

Blade

All he has to do is release his scent and that'll be enough to send anybody running, if not that then seeing the blood lust in his eyes and the sword by his side will.

If anybody is foolish enough to challenge him it's their last day breathing. They better enjoy the scent of his omega while it lasts.

Doesn't escort his omega to safety but does have them hide and close their eyes as he deals with the idiots who thought they could claim them. As soon as he's done he's taking them back home where they'll be safe and checked for any wounds.

If their scent sours because of the violence he might regret killing those other alphas but only because it upset them. Cleans them and himself up of any blood and wraps them up in his sheets before wrapping them up in his arms.

He's struggling a bit with his Mara and his rage at being challenged as an Alpha so he doesn't have the energy to properly take care of them besides this for now. Give him a moment or two and he'll be ready to tend to their every need and comfort them better than he is at the moment.

Jing Yuan

As soon as he smells them he's ordering the nearest soldiers around to clear a path so he can escort them to safety. They follow even if they too are bothered by their scent, they know their place and not to dare lay a hand on his omega.

Everyone knows who the General's omega is, with or without a claim mark, so it'll be surprising for some brave(read: foolish) soul to try and challenge him of all people.They must be some foreigner with no clue on who's in charge of the Luofu and or they don't care.

Point is they've challenged not only their General they've threatened the safety of his omega and he and his people won't stand for this. He doesn't have to lift a finger or look in their direction as his soldiers drag the offender away and focuses on getting them both home.

On the occasion it's just him without any soldiers nearby it takes seconds for him to knock down the competition as soon as they reach for his omega.

Once they're both somewhere safe he's sticking by their side, looking them over for any injuries and checking their medication to see if they've missed taking it or something to explain their sudden heat.

If they allow him he's more than happy to help them out but he'd prefer to make sure they're feeling safe and secure before he's willing to help.

Welt

His priority is to get his omega somewhere safe before dealing with any threats, they can wait but they can't.

He escorts them to a room, such as a bathroom or somewhere else where the door can be locked from the inside and tells them to stay there and to not open the door for anyone until he calls them.

Let's say one of the Alphas follows him and challenges him for his omega thinking with his old age they could do so much better. He doesn't hesitate to put them in their place through words alone, letting them know that clearly they aren't a good match if all they can do is think with their dick and then some.

If the other gets enraged he'll deal with them promptly with his powers until they and any stragglers flee the scene. Once he's sure the coast is clear he gives his omega the signal and finds the quickest route back to the Astral Express or their hotel room.

As soon as their safe he does his best to take care of his omega by giving them the space or comfort they may need from such a stressful situation. Will help them out with their heat if they like but their mental, emotional, and physical health comes first.

Luocha

Since people tend to think of him as an omega as well they might try to come after him as well. Doesn't mind the attention as he can deal with them easily but with his omega struggling to stay standing he's got to prioritize their safety first.

Releases his scent to get most of the other alphas to back off before taking his omega into his arms and cutting past anyone who tries to stop him.

If an alpha decides to pursue not getting the hint they're not wanted he's taking them out, zero hesitation. They might not be dead but they're gonna wish they were.

As soon as he's got his omega to the safety of their shared room he's giving them all the attention they could want in the world. He might have to take a break away from them to reschedule his meetings and the like but that's nothing, their health and well being matters far more than some business.

#honkai star rail a/b/o #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #gender neutral reader

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wooeo · 7 months

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please i always think ab member x member!reader stuff like specifically for enha and tbz but for enha im like damn i feel like ur waist would be free real estate for them like one of them is ALWAYS grabbing ur wiast or guilding u with a hand on ur lower back especiallyat award shows because hybe puts u in heels and they dont want u falling on ur face

NO BC YOURE SO RIGHT !!!!!!

lord just thought about heesung casually holding u by the waist what if i die

lord….…………………………………………………….…………………………………………………….…………………………………………………….……………………………………………………. …………………………………………………….…………………………………………………….

heesung’s hand automatically going to your waist to help you keep balance the other hand in yours …………………

jay gently guiding you places with his hand on your lower back,……………………

jake coming up from behind to scare you, digging his fingers into your sides hands going to hold your waist when you freak out and he laughs …………………

sunghoon ……………………………………………………………….. pulling you down next to him by grabbing your waist, you almost land on his lap every time (foes he do it one purpose?? maybe is he hoping one day you’ll actually land on his lap ?? no comment ) ….

sunoo pulling you out of the way of something (maybe you’re about to walking into something or someone) by putting his arms around your waist and moving you towards him ………………………………

jungwon falling asleep next to you on a bed and draping an arm over your stomach ….. subconsciously pulling himself closer to you……..

niki who has the habit of following you around, always looking over your shoulder,, leaning his entire weight of you,,, hands finding their way to your waist to prevent you from falling

#🍥 nonie #ask boxing #😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#this did something to me if you couldn’t tell #enhypen

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stellamancer · 2 months

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heel (gojo x reader???)

notes: um. idk what i should say. though i am not hating on feet people!! i am feet people!! if you want a non foot version of this feel free to read my other fic empty threat: also post spar with gojo shenanigans (even reused a line to connect the two lmao). part of the infinite loop! fic verse.

ageless blogs and minors do not interact

contains: gn!reader (no gendered language is used) gojo, feet (or what i like to call the steppy)??, dubcon?? (just in case), sexual implications, the use of the words dick and cock, no this isn't smut

wc: 812

You wish you knew how you ended up in this situation.

It all started with you agreeing to spar with Gojo and thinking back now, that was your first mistake. Training with him has been odd lately, though you can’t quite put your finger on why, but one minute the two of you were engaged in hand to hand combat and now he’s laying on the floor with your foot pressed firmly against his crotch.

You don't even know how it got there in the first place.

“Well?” he drawls, that stupid amused tone of his grating on your nerves as he waits for your next move.

Idly, you think it’d be nice if you could end his family line here and now by stomping down hard enough but you know that that’s just wishful thinking on your part.

Should you just back off then? Fight’s over; you’ve won, but only because Gojo let you. Honestly speaking, that fact burns you, keeps your foot in place despite your attempts to rationalize it with the notion that a win’s a win. If he were a curse, you wouldn’t care about it being an easy win.

But he’s not; he’s Satoru Gojo and there’s something off about all this.

“Enjoying the view?” Gojo asks, yanking you from your thoughts. You stare down at him, scowling, but he remains unfazed as usual. “Not that I can blame you since—”

Your body reacts instantly in annoyance, your foot jerking down, digging into his dick and, for a split second, you think that it’s the surprise of it that causes him to cut off mid-sentence.

Except for the fact that he moans.

He fucking moans.

You’ve always thought, always known that Satoru Gojo is an absolute freak but you’d never really given much thought to it.

If you could, you’d keep it that way— the last thing you want is to be giving him more mental real estate than he deserves.

This is way too much for you right now.

“Ah, so you’re into that, are you?” Gojo’s voice sounds way too entertained, way too pleased for someone who just had someone grind their heel into his crotch. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

Instinct bids you to crush his cock beneath your foot because normally guys find that to be pretty painful, but you have to remind yourself that Gojo is far from normal. He might actually be into it. So instead, you try to pull your foot away, to get away from him as fast as possible, but try as you might, your foot doesn’t move, as if it’s being held in place by some invisible force.

You’re mildly horrified when you realize that it is and this, you think, has the be the most disturbing use of the Limitless technique in all of history. The realization causes your self-control to slip and your foot presses even harder against him.

Gojo moans again, louder this time and you can’t ignore the slight pressure of what you fear to be a growing boner pushing against the sole of your shoe.

Nor can you ignore the electric prickle running up and down the length of your spine. What the heck? When it starts to settle in the pit of your stomach you realize what it is.

You need to get away from Gojo.

Now.

You yank your foot away from him and luckily, luckily, he releases his technique and you’re free of him. Like a frightened creature, you back away and refuse to look Gojo in the eye.

“...get up,” you say after a second of absolute silence. You hear the ruffle of clothes as he rises to his feet and slowly, carefully, you peer at him from the corner of your eye. “Don’t do that again.”

Gojo’s expression is unreadable. Figures. But who knows, maybe, for once in his life, he’ll actually listen.

Unfortunately, your hopes are dashed the moment he opens his mouth. “Why? You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

You are horrified. What kind of face were you making? There’s no way. He has to be lying, saying what he wants for the sake of his own entertainment. You couldn't have been into it! You were mortified, horrified by all of it, but yet you still managed get tu—

Before that last thought can fully form itself in your mind you shake your head violently as if that will rid you of it.

Gojo laughs lighthearted and amused as always, “Okay, okay, if you say so.”

He doesn’t believe you, but he’s always been delusional. You glare at Gojo but he ignores it, and stretches.

“Let me know if you change your mind though,” he says casually. “I think it could be fun.”

“Yeah right,” you huff, ignoring how he laughs, ignoring how the tiniest voice in the back of your mind thinks that maybe, just maybe he’s got a point.

Satoru Gojo’s definitely a freak, but maybe you are too.

is gojo actually into getting his dick stepped on or was he just fucking around and you were just finding out? you decide.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #nsft #tw feet #cw feet #infinite loop!verse

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sugar-omi · 1 month

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Ohhh the newest dad cove post the pregnant mc is so so good,,,,, rip though imagine just how clingy this makes him oh my god. (late riser mc) he’s constantly falling asleep on the couch next to you when it gets later, hand on your back or around your middle whether you’re showing yet or not because he can’t stand the idea of you needing something but not waking him up ‘cause he’s in bed(especially when you have bad “morning” sickness).

or something that absolutely makes my blood pressure absolutely skyrocket is strangers being touchy, (he’d obviously not be like? weird about it like if you want to let family or friends feel the baby kick; he’s honestly just nodding along with the biggest goofy-proud smile like “it’s the coolest thing ever right???”) but if random strangers are getting touchy or pushy because they seem to think pregnant people are free real estate? just this big ass man getting physically between the two of you and completely shutting them down without a word? 1000/10.

also rip mc but I myself am a Cove suprise twins truther and not gonna lie to anyone but unless you are well above average size? rip mc. late second trimester and on is just a mess because like the other post said? all fun and games having a giant husband until giant baby time. man is so conflicted(for a multitude of reasons tbh because if one baby almost being here wasn’t overwhelming enough? two?) because on the one hand there’s almost a twinge of guilt because you’re so sore and tired and sick of having to pee every five seconds, but also, not even a sexual(or maybe just a little) thing but some part of his brain is like you said just? that’s his baby- his babies, like it hits him so much that you are literally carrying his kids that you two made together and you trust him enough to be by your side and be your kids’ dad?? and sometimes he’s looking at you with big wet eyes and wobbly lips while you’re trying to hunt down the current craving and you panic that he’s crying, and when he explains… oh now you’re crying because of hormones being out of wack and he’s too sweet for this.

I LOVE YOU ANON. WE ARE THE SAME. literally sharing all my thoughts rn pls... i love the thought of my mc n cove having 1 kid (thru adoption) and their first pregnancy/baby being twins. just instantly throws them into the boiling pot of parenthood

n omg he's so fucking clingy after you get pregnant. if you're not a hugger, you are now. because he needs to be around you n touching you, he fucking loves you so much and just needs to touch n kiss n hold you

omfg, tries to feel the baby kick or anything like that before it's even possible. instantly starts talking to your baby before they're even supposed to be able to hear

if you're still sleeping, or napping, he'll cuddle up near your stomach and strokes the area, tracing hearts and stars and such, talking about how much he loves you. how great you are. tells funny stories from your shared childhood, tells your baby/babies about their future aunts n uncles n grandparents.

they're gonna be so loved.

n if you wake up in the middle of him doing this, try to stay still and listen because then he goes on about how much he loves the babe/s and how he's gonna take care of them, and you, and he'll protect n love them n he daydreams out loud about all the milestones, all the way up to their weddings which just makes him cry

you might even catch him rambling about how he'll make sure they never feel insecure, or like a burden, or anything like that, especially any feelings or thoughts he had from his childhood.

and yeahh, he'd be so overwhelmed and freaked out if your first pregnancy is TWINS!! he gets anxious. because now there's a double chance of failure. he's just so afraid for your future, and even if you're anxious and afraid too now with the news, he does calm down even if you don't comfort him.

bouncing your anxieties off each other, makes him realize you're both going towards a good path. if you're already worried about X, Y, and Z, then you know you're on the same page, and while parenthood is unpredictable.. your beliefs and wishes for your family are certain

takes a deep breath n just promises you it'll be okay. you'll figure it out. you can worry through parenthood together. and you'll figure it out together.

does call his dad and he talks to cove, helps him with his anxieties, etc.. it helps him relax when cliff says that, while cove was a very happy accident, at least he's prepared unlike he and kyra were. this was something you wanted, prepared for. that all the mental preparation, is the best it'll get and now you have to figure it out together, and that he, kyra, and your moms are here to help you figure it out.

n omg cove feeling bad about you being sore, tired, exhausted from the baby totally rearranging your guts and pressing against your bladder like a meat press.

always offers you massages, foot rubs. and helps you do any maintenance, like helping you shave or doing your names, put on lotion, etc. since your stomach is getting too big to work around

helps you put on your shoes if you need, too. he brings you all the snacks (ends up trying your cravings too. in fact, HE has cravings n now both of you are scrambling for the car and end up sitting in the parking lot eating whatever weird combo one of you thought of)

and you're so right about him finding you attractive when you're pregnant, not necessarily sexual like you said although it has undertones. in fact, since we're talking about it. it's kinda like they're satisfied they made their mark on you LOL

which in that case... cove probably doesn't even realize how.. happy. he is. that whenever you leave the house, people can easily see you have someone at home waiting for you. that you're taken.

literally read an article about men's thoughts on their pregnant wives, and they're so interesting (can't get over the guy saying ["my wife still doesn't believe i found her sexy during her pregnancy. i saw what a baby did to her and it just made me want to fill her with more."])

n their increased attraction all seems to come back to their wife carrying their baby, and their body getting bigger. not even just her boobs and butt, loves how her tummy gets bigger during the pregnancy, loves the stretches marks because it's a sign of the hard work she did carrying their baby

he just loves everything about you. loves your glow, your scent, your whole look.

also like i said before, pregnancy just kinda flipped a primal switch in cove's brain. happens to pretty much every man on the planet. loves when you ask him for help because you're too pregnant to do it. or if you call him "daddy", "papa" or something along those lines, just messing with him (same way guys will call you "mama"), he has to grip the counter n take a minute because omfg... he's a dad. he's your babies dad. even if you don't call him that, has to take a breather if you bring him up like that.

is so fucking ecstatic about you calling him your babies father that he will probably fall on the floor crying n throwing up like. he's insane.

ohhh and he'd just be at your beck and call the further along you get. imagine him with his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder, just keeping you secure in his grip as you cross the road.

just becomes so much more protective. subtly of course, not overboard like growling n hissing but yknow he keeps you close, keeps an eye out.. etc.

oh and you're so right about him putting himself between you n touchy stranger number 8123901. even if you tell him it's okay, he still checks you out to see if you're uncomfortable.

but lets be real, i can't see many daring to get handsy and pushy with your over 6 foot, somewhere 'round 200lbs, husband next to you. that'd just be stupid.

so don't be afraid to just drag him to the store to be your shield LOL

still, even though he relaxes a bit as your pregnancy progresses and to strangers, he seems pretty relaxed and cool n all that. does go home with you and can't help but cry because you look so cute, and your family is increasing, n it's just all so much. he's a big baby still

#olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader

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monstersinthecosmos · 2 months

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kacy i wanna know how much of a perv you think daniel is LOL so much fic centers on armand dragging him through an experience *armand* wants. so like what's the ratio of daniel being a freak in his nature (and knowing this about himself) vs armand nurturing this trait into him?

My friend, I’m so glad you asked.

THE THING IS IVE GIVEN THIS A LOT OF THOUGHT and in some ways it’s like, what all of my Devil’s Minion fics are about LOL. And yet! I don’t have a simple answer to this question, the way real questions of nature vs nurture are complicated in the real world in real people!

But let me sketch out a framework of the way I’ve questioned this, and everyone might come to different conclusions and that’s the fun of fandom, because there can exist several thousand versions of Daniel based on the same text! AND I KNOW YOU KNOW THIS STUFF, I HOPE IT DOESN’T COME OFF AS MANSPLAINING LMAO but I’m excited to talk about this topic.

Here’s what we know unequivocally from the text:

Daniel is 20 years old in IWTV.

That’s it, that’s the whole list.

And here’s some fanon that people often try to extrapolate from the text:

💦 That he met Louis at a gay bar. UNCONFIRMED, but I think it’s likely? In the short story the bar is named the Pink Baby, I think that might be a gay bar or a dick reference idk lol.

💦 Whether or not the Pink Baby was a gay bar, he and Louis essentially cruised each other and left the bar together! Daniel has the excuse that he’s hunting for interviews for his job, Louis has the excuse that he’s an apex predator who preys on people, but ? Take this wherever you need to. (Also blah blah Ricean biting=sex symbolisms.)

💦 Was Daniel bisexual outside of the assumption that most of the VC characters are bisexual/omnisexual? The only clue we get is that when he and Armand practice voyeurism, he hooks up with men and women. There’s a lot of interesting information packed into the voyeurism paragraph, like this line: Yet he lay empty afterwards, staring at Armand, resentful, cold. and I’ve seen the “resentful, cold” comment dissected many times in fandom. Is it the general resentment of their whole relationship? Is it because he wants to fuck Armand and not randos? Is it because he only wants the Blood? Does he not consent to being used like a zoo animal? Is he gay and doesn’t want to fuck women? Is he straight (minus the orientation-defying vampire attraction) and doesn’t want to fuck men? I’ve seen all kinds of takes on this LOL. But still, no real definitive answer about his orientation in the text.

💦 What did the “roaming the bars of the world” comment mean? Sometimes I read Anne Rice’s language as being kinda lofty and exaggerated but was he ACTUALLY traveling the WHOLE WORLD or is he hyping up that he trolled bars in the Bay Area? Is he FROM the Bay Area or was it a stop in his travels? He worked for a radio station (not in the book, but mentioned in the short story + The Vampire Companion and The Alphabettery) so did he live here, even if he traveled a lot? Was he wealthy before vampires if he was traveling this much, if you think he was a traveler?

AND AFTER ALL THAT, here’s some extra questions where Daniel is FREE REAL ESTATE that every fan has the freedom to make the fuck up:

💦 How much sexual experience did he have at 20? Do we assume that by default as an Anne Rice character he probably had ample teenage sexual experiences, and if he did, is there a quality over quantity aspect to consider? Is the sex we have as teenagers like, all that to write home about LMAO. Do we really understand kinks yet, or do we need to grow up and gain some perspective first?

💦 As an Anne Rice character, by default, do we assume he & everything else is sexually charged LOL, are the interviews and cruising and taking people home a code for bringing partners home? What percentage of his interviews were also hookups?

💦 When we talk about nature vs nurture for kinkiness, how micro and macro is this? As a fellow Off the Cuffs fan I know you understand the “radioactive spider bite into kink” concept, and some kinks are so specific to our experiences. But BEING KINKY in itself IS nature, isn’t it? I’ve read some sex & kink theory that kink is (psychologically) more like an innate orientation. IE: in the way you can be straight or gay, some people are also by default turned on by being smacked or by whatever paraphilia. Whatever that thing is, the way it takes shape, is the nurture half. But like, many people can have the same experience and 99% of them don’t develop a paraphilia right? So I think that capability exists in kinky folks at all times, especially when so many of the radioactive spider bites are things that people discover in childhood. ANYWAY I RANTED but I say that to say; DANIEL MOLLOY IS A MONSTERFUCKER, IWTV IS THE PROOF THAT HE IS A MONSTERFUCKER. IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME.

So I bring up all those questions to encourage everyone to make up their own story with this, but I’ll tell you where I personally landed and how I approach it in my fics!!!

The Daniel in MY OWN fics is 20, single child, estranged from his parents, dropped out of college because he didn’t have ADHD support and was struggling, bisexual and promiscuous! I wonder if he went through that like college freshman thing where he got out of his parents house for the first time and partied a little too hard because he COULD! I like to read “bars of the world” as an exaggeration, I like to think he was a normal guy NOT globe hopping, sticking to the Bay Area, maybe he was out there for college, and guess what! There’s a thriving gay liberation culture there, so he finds some safe spaces to experiment with that!

However, I think the text leaves space to think he didn’t have a lot of close friends, or wasn’t close with his family, due to the way that he simply ✨fucks off ✨ after IWTV. NOW, that’s just me! Because there’s potential here for a TRAGEDY of people looking for him or grieving him! But idk I just like thinking that he was already on the outs and the interview pushed him over the edge.

So I ask like, does the 20 year old have a ton of kink experience? Is he good at sex? WHAT DOES RESENTFUL, COLD MEAN? Was he celibate during the chase years? Are the voyeurism sessions the first time he’s had sex since his old life? Even if he had random hookups during the chase years, was this qualitatively good sex? Can you truly get into good BDSM on a hookup or do you need a trusted partner? (This is subjective, idk, but!)

Also, how much kink is theoretical and private (to masturbate to) vs stuff you actually try? Especially if we believe that kink is nature, someone isn’t less kinky if they’re celibate, the way someone isn’t less gay if they’re celibate, or even a virgin. As Daniel becomes more and more obsessed with vampires, and with Armand, does it take over how he jerks off? Does he think about getting bitten? HE LIKES SNUGGLING WITH DEAD THINGS.

So like, there IS an element of Daniel being the unwilling witness of Armand’s rapidly shifting hyperfixations, and it’s natural that fandom pervs would extend that to sex acts and kinks. I LOVE IT, yes! It makes sense.

But when you say like, which one of them is in charge, I wonder if it’s relevant if we assume Daniel enjoys it. (Does he? Would he? Resentful, cold?)

Here’s some points that come to mind when I imagine it as purely Armand’s doing:

💦 People sometimes misunderstand BDSM dynamics when it comes to power and control, because BDSM is a consensual fantasy between two adults. The sub is just as in control, because they allow it. In that sense: Do we believe Armand respects Daniel’s consent? Would he force Daniel to participate if he wasn’t enjoying himself?

🩸 (How much can we compare this to Venice and how Armand was prepared for vampirism? I’m putting this in parentheses bc I’m putting a pin in this one, I CANNOT ADD A SUB-ESSAY INTO THIS POST ABOUT COMPARING VENICE TO DEVILS MINION but thinking of this too. Returning to the under-negotiated kink in Venice and how much is diegetic to the text, how does experiencing a spectrum of sexuality benefit someone’s last years alive ((sub-parentheses: does Armand flip-flop on turning Daniel as much as Marius did with Armand, does Armand subliminally know he’ll turn Daniel one day, does he go through these experiences as a precursor to turning Daniel eventually?)) are these experiences more for Armand to process the way he was groomed for asexual immortality vs being purely selfless and for Daniel’s benefit?)

💦 Armand uses Daniel as his usher into the modern age, and is it fair to assume he could sense Daniel’s kinkiness and knew that this was the person for him?

💦 How dubious is Daniel’s consent here? How addicted to Armand’s Blood is he by the time they start fucking around? Is he already within the throes of Ricean Omnisexuality where he’s down for whatever? Does the Blood influence this as well? Is there a secret subliminal violence creeping into your body when you’ve been drinking it again and again? What about less violent kinks, like your feederism fic? Does the Blood encourage all types of excess and consumption???

But if DANIEL is the driving force here, I still must consider:

💦 He meets Armand and his life essentially ends when he’s 20 years old. Was he really self-aware of his kinks? Did he know himself very well sexually yet?

💦 While exploring kinks can be mutually beneficial by sating Armand’s need for WEIRD HUMAN STUFF, maybe it IS something Daniel wants. It’s something he’s missing out on, because he checked out of regular human life when he was 20. Like, everyone’s different, so, I’m not saying that people can’t be sexually articulate at 20, but I know I fucking wasn’t! And I personally never fucked anyone that age who was good at it LMAO. So like how old would Daniel have been before he experimented enough to really know what he liked, and how much of him getting to know his sexuality involved Armand during the next decade?

💦 And this ties into Armand being his sugar daddy! That’s canon! Armand is his sugar daddy! If Daniel, at 28 years old, starts lamenting “I wish I’d gotten the chance to try watersports when I still had a normal life :( “ wouldn’t Armand have arranged that for him?

🩸 (Again let’s talk about Venice and what did Armand learn there about being the vampire lover, how much does he process and repeat on Daniel, and for whose benefit?)

💦 If Daniel is an innately kinky person, and realizes as he’s approaching 30 that he never really got to explore it properly, wouldn’t Armand usher him through that experience? Even if Armand didn’t plan to turn him, I wonder if he saw the window of Daniel’s mortal experience closing, maybe he worried that this is the type of thing people need to be wild about while they’re still so young. And outside of stigmatizing Daniel's age, it's also about how he was becoming less and less healthy, dying of alcoholism at 32, so there was a small window here for them to have sex adventures.

So basically, I’m saying that the nature half feels very much like Daniel being a monsterfucker, the nurture half is the actual experiences he got to have. And I don’t think he’d be in this situation in the first place if he wasn’t a bit of a monsterfucker, and wasn't a innately into danger and pain. Like, we don’t get a TON of examples but Gretchen and Babette didn’t try to fuck vampires! We know that vampires give humans the heebie jeebies! What kind of sick fuck is into that?!?!?!?

I don’t really have one single answer here. When it comes to the large library of kinks I think either of them can be blamed, and I also think it 100% makes sense to use Armand as a vehicle to write fic about them as if they’re another collection of human oddities for him to explore. But even using Armand’s weird bullshit to process that doesn’t mean it’s not mutually beneficial, and I think it gets into a fuzzier area that’s up to the writer when it comes to their take on the relationship, how dubious the consent is, how much do they actually like each other and get along? Can it be mutually beneficial in the end even if one person is driving? (see: the conversation about the second whipping scene in TVA and how it works out in the end.) Is it something they have fun agreeing to and negotiating in advance?

I can totally see how someone might write this as a fun thing that they talk about beforehand as easily as it could be Armand forcing mystery adventure on Daniel and suddenly he’s tied up in some shitty apartment in Hells Kitchen with some man pissing on him, and did he ever even reveal this kink to Armand or did Armand pull it out of his head?

The ship dynamic is so fucked up and coercive and resentful and toxic, even though there is real love here, so there’s this whole spectrum to use when you build your fanworks and headcanons!!!!!!! AND LIKE

IF IT’S COERCIVE AND FUCKED UP, DOES IT DRIVE THEM FURTHER APART OR BRING THEM CLOSER TOGETHER? IS DANIEL RESENTFUL AND COLD AND DOES THIS CAUSE FIGHTS? IS THIS A WAY FOR THEM TO PROCESS SOME OF THEIR COLDNESS AND RESENTMENT BECAUSE THEY AREN’T GOOD COMMUNICATORS? DO THEY DO BETTER AFTER THESE SESSIONS AND FEEL CLOSER BECAUSE THEY BROKE THROUGH SOMETHING NEITHER OF THEM KNEW HOW TO SAY?

Gosh idk.

Anyway I apologized in the beginning for mansplaining but I also want to apologize for this non answer LMFAO. I hope it doesn’t feel like a cop-out to not have a real answer, it’s just that I think there is such a rich context with a MENAGERIE of possibility !!!!!!!

#kink meta #deep ass thoughts about vampires #devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #armand/daniel #vampire chronicles #am i writing meta on saturday night while im babysitting yes i am

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ser-rctslcyer · 4 months

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Pairing: Jordan Li x GN!/ENBY! Reader Word Count: 2.3k Synopsis: This upcoming Valentine’s day is the perfect time to ask your crush out– unless you were Jordan who had no clue where to begin because their crush. Warnings: Not Canon Compliant, Fluff and Mush, Crushes, Lack of Communication, Valentine’s Day, Dialogue Heavy (chatty cathy college kids) A/N: I wrote this last minute and severe needing sleep but I have been desperate to write about them.

The second bell rang and Jordan was quick to get up out of their seat and out the door. Their mind weighed heavily on them, as they trudged through the halls; using their smaller frame to navigate through the busy halls with ease. Fingers fiddling with the volume controls of their music, they rolled their eyes at all the grotesque pink, white and red streamers along with the copious amounts of paper hearts. Valentine’s Day had of course, taken up every free real estate on campus and they could not escape it no matter wherever they looked.

It had sucked, not because they hated the holiday; hell, they usually got the best treats around this time. What bothered them wasn’t unfortunately going to change any time soon and so this Valentine’s was again going to be another bust. Jordan stopped in front of a water fountain to refill their bottle, they caught a familiar set of leather gloves.

“So, have you confessed your undying love for them yet?” Cate questioned, leaning in as she whispered the last part.

“First of all, it was just going to be a date first,” they sighed; rolling their eyes at their friend’s familiar know it all smile.

“And then tell them you’ve spent the last four years pining over them endlessly?”

“Cate.”

“Sorry, I’m just excited for you. You deserve to have a nice time with the person you’ve been crushing on since freshman year..” she spoke sincerely, which made Jordan tense up. It still felt weird to have people genuinely rooting for them and not backhandedly attacking the parts of themselves they held so dear. They shake away the feeling focusing back on their friends words before looking at their feet.

“You did ask them out, right? Jordan?” Cate inquired, moving closer to

“Jordan?” they couldn’t ignore their name for a second time and looked back to her furrorwed brows.

“I froze, okay!” Jordan sighed, dropping their shoulder before slugging off down the hall.

“Jordan!” they heard the call from behind them and knew it was going to be a long talk. Each click of her boots getting closer filled them with a little sense of dread as they mentally prepared themselves for a time of questioning.

“I was getting there, about to ask them but then I got freaked out and changed the conversation,” they huffed, turning to look at Cate while still keeping a steady walking pace.

“What did you do with your gifts?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair to smooth it out.

“Stuffed them back into my backpack when they weren't looking at me.”

“Oh, you are so hopeless,” she made a sad puppy face and Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I am aware but you don’t have to say it aloud,” they pinched the bridge of their noses, and shook their head.

“I feel like I do because you’re siking yourself out.”

“How could I be psyching myself out, when I’m not even sure if they’re interested in my like that.”

“You two talk well enough already? What’s the difference if you do it during a date?” she pressed, and Jordan was thankfully that the hall they were walking down had no other students walking through it.

“Maybe the fact we barely talk face to face outside of class and class projects? Or the fact I am not even sure they like me? Or if they do, do they have a preference? There’s a lot of things that could go wrong, Cate!” they bellowed, gritting their teeth a small bit as they tried not to switch themselves to their male form.

“True, but that’s just dating in general! It can be a little tricky.”

“But it’s 10 times worst if I fuck up,” they threw their arms into the air, dropping them sadly as they stopped walking. It was silent for a moment, which they hated because like coming off as an callous dick; nor did they really want to be stuck in their own thoughts at this current moment. As they slow their breathing, a hand comes to their shoulder and they catch the apologetic look from Cate.

“I know it seems really scary but that’s just how love works. It’s also not like your going into this completely estranged and unknowing,” she reassured, clapping her hands together.

“Elaborate,” they mumbled, kicking their feet out as they walked slowly. The two of them were bond to be late for their next class but it ceased to matter at this point.

“The two of you have been talking since you both got here, and have genuine conversations with one another. Also don’t the two of you text?” she asked; totalling the amount they communicated on her fingers.

“Mhm.”

“See! You two are definitely in different circles but you both still manage to keep up with each other.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean munch. I’m not seeing how this helps me ask them out?”

“Ugh you can be quiet the bore sometimes,” Cate poked their side which made them jerk and they give her a glare. “Well since you want me to give you the cliffnotes I will; there is a good chance, possibly slim, that they also like you,” a smug grin crosses their face, as Jordan’s mouth drops in disbelief.

“Now you’re just making shit up,” they concluded, trying to shake the feeling of their heart pounding in their chest.

“I’m being serious! No one would keep up that well with someone who’s just a classmate. No student ever is that dedicated to working outside of class on school projects with people they don’t know? Neither of you would have been chatting for this long if it didn’t mean there was something there,” she explained, her words making the hopefully gears in their brain turn with ferocity.

Cate was at least onto something because they didn’t keep up with half of the other classmates that they also chatted with. If that was really true, did you still like them now? Why hadn’t you said anything before? They don’t get much time to ponder their thoughts before Cate wants to interrupt them again.

“Listen to me–”

“Hey, Jordan,” a voice called, a voice they had already been dying to hear since yesterday afternoon. They turned around, eyes lighting up at the sight of you walking over to them; their frame growing in a few sizes as you reached them.

“Oh hey,” the blonde turned, stealthy nudging them; an unnoticed jab about how quickly they shifted.

“Hi Cate,” you greeted, as kind as ever even though the two of you barely spoke. Your eyes go back to them and Jordan nearly wants to crawl in a hole as a part of them felt bad for talking about you.

“Are you still free after your classes today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was hoping we could maybe finish the rest of Mr. Pittman’s science work, if that’s cool with you?” you added, pulling your bag closer to you as he grinned.

“Mr. Pittman? I thought that wasn’t due till next Friday?” Cate questioned.

“It isn’t but I like to get a head a bit to clear up some of my schedule.”

“Fair enough,” she smiled, and you nodded back.

“So?”

“Yeah, I’m all yours,” Jordan agreed quickly, and just as faast they regretted that word choice. They barely see your eye twitch but your usual happy look doesn’t fade.

“Awesome, I’ll swing by you dorm once I’m off work.,” you confirm before starting your way off back in the direction you came. “Bye Jordan, bye Cate!”

“Bye,” the two said in unison, waving until you had rounded the corner across campus.

“I’m all yours?” Cate’s teasing voice turned back on, along with another poke in the side to which they huffed out.

“Shut up.”

“You are so down bad,” she chuckled, pulling her hair up into a bun.

“I know, shut up.”

“Look you now have the perfect opportunity to ask them out; today is now or never.”

“Ugh, I’m going to class!” they cursed, heading away as the bell rang again.

It was by a thread, Jordan resisted tearing up their entire closet to find a more suitable outfit for tonight. It didn’t need to be anything fancy but something that would be appealing; and so they settled on a plain black sweater with plaid pants.They flutter between forms unsure of how to present until they on their male form. They paced around their dorm for a moment, trying to not let their nerves get the best of them when there was a knock on the door.

“Hi.” they greeted and you smiled.

“Hi.” You stepped into the door as you always do, with ease as you had already been here a million times before. They notice the little extra package you carry, something you didn’t usually have but he couldn’t place from where.

“Is your fridge clear?”

“Mhm, there’s only a few cans of beer in there; been meaning to restock,” they answered, moving over to open it for you. As they watched you set everything down, they caught how neat the bought was designed, clearly something that was pretty pricey. “What’s that?”

“Oh, a cake! Was thinking I could use something sweet for today,” you grin to yourself as you slide it in carefully.

“Ah right, Valentine’s Day.”

‘Really Jordan?’ they wanted to curse themselves out into all oblivion, but they held it all back with the bite of their tongue.

“You can have a piece if you’d like; but preferably when we’re all finished up with our work,” you put your hand on your shoulder. Jordan shivers and drops their head, not wanting you to see their elated grin.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin the sweets with science homework,” they chuckle, causing you own pretty chuckle.

“No we wouldn’t.”

Studying usually came with a bit of ease to them, as most of the time they didn’t have a hard time focusing on what task was put in front of them. This time however felt impossible as Cate’s words were floating in their head.

“Is something wrong?” you chimed, not quite looking away from what your doing but you do glance up at them

“Hmm?”

“You keep looking over, do you need something?”

“Um, well,,, actually maybe I do,” they run their fingers through their hair; looking away toward the door.

“Oh? What did you need to ask me?” you inquired, giving them your full attention as you set your journal aside.

“Would you like, to maybe go out tonight?” their eyes race over your face, watching for any and every little expression. “As in like a date,” they conclude, awkwardly but at this point there was no other way this would come out. They had done this proposal a million times over in their head to make it perfect, but of course that only worked if they had done the rest of their plan.

“I- I yeah, I’d love to,” you answer makes their eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you nod vigorously; tugging a fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket. “Is that not the answer you were looking for?”

“No, no, no. I didn’t think you would honestly say yes,” they bit back their idiotic smile.

“Could I show you something?” you asked and Jordan nodded, watching as you got up and pulled the mystery cake box from the fridge. As you got to the bed, you opened the lid, careful tilting it down to the them to show a pretty pink and white cake with the words ‘would you be mine’ written in red icing on top. They looked between you and the cake, excitement building within them as you gave a small smile.

“I also was going to ask you out today,” you closed the lid, carefully put the cake back up, “but it looks like you beat me too it.” You got back on the bed, sitting a closer to them before you spoke again.

“I figured since it was our last year it was either now or never since we’ll graduate, and–”

They can’t let you finish as they cup your face; kissing you with everything they have. Their lips moves tenderly, their tongue swiping the inside of your mouth in joy. It felt even better when you pulled them closer by the hem of their sweater. A low groan leaves them as you kiss back with the same boldness, pushing and rubbing yourself against them freely. They shudder, a pit forming in their stomach burning full of desire.

Jordan quickly pins you down on the bed, taking advantage of the momentum to deepen the kiss. Your moan reverbates in their mouth, and goes straight down which makes them press their hips to yours. There’s no longer any words left between you, as you roll your hips up against theirs. Jordan’s head buzzes for a moment and you take this chance to flip them over so their under your instead. They look up at you, wide eyed and wet lipped as they switch to their fem form and stay there.

“We can finish it later,” you breath deeply, brushing you lips over their jaw.

“Are you sure?” they panted, squeezing your hips; trying to have some self control and not roll their hips.

“Yeah, the only reason I wanted to get it done was just incase you said no and I needed to cry my eyes out for a week,” you chuckle softly, which made their heart sink a little. They push themselves up more, enough to where they can grab your chin and pull you down for another kiss.

“You’ll never have to do that.”

“I hope not,” you grin, nuzzling your noses against theirs.

“I fucking promise, baby,” they steal another kiss, making sure to nip at your lip before pulling away, “I’ve waited too long for this.”

“So have I,” you tug at their longer hair, tilting their head up and kissing over their neck and letting go. “We’re probably not gonna make dinner huh?”

“No probably not,” they chuckle, trailing their kisses over your collarbones.

“Would you mind, if I stay the night?” Jordan knows you already know the answer but they don’t mind showing you with a nice drawn out kiss.

“Never.”

#rct fic #jordan li x reader #gen v fic #jordan li fic

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h-doodles · 6 months

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BREAKING MY SILENCE!!!

sorry im late but i was spamming one bestie with some more analysis thoughts on the borb while half scrolling through my fyp bc i do curate my experience ya know. BUT YOU GUYS. EVERYONE TAKE SEVERAL STEPS BACK AND A DEEP BREATH.

@oneginn I get your point and your post and I respect that, and I personally apologize for the boundaries that were set off with regards to some of my reblogs! I do recognize romanticizing toxic behaviors is BAD and a point of extreme concern, especially in real life! HOWEVER, at the same time, like you said! exploring and liking the darker themes are a thing, and fundamentally, people expressing their thoughts about it is part of the process, especially when writing about it in fiction. I believe that as long we do recognize the proper warnings AND DO give warnings, it's perfectly sane for people to post whatever in our personal blogs. Not to mention that while fiction has the ability to influence reality, some times fiction IS just fiction, and saying this from a place of love: IT'S NOT ALWAYS THAT DEEP. Sometimes the girlies just want some unhinged absolute gratitious smut, some girlies want the most heart wrenching traumatizing angst, some people want the most rancid and unhealthy parts to see how worse they can go, and some girlies want the soft slice of life absolute peaceful fluff AND that's why fiction is great, it can contain ANYTHING! Of course, it is still important to keep a critical lens on everything we read, but it's also important to keep in mind that it's a space where people can explore their boundaries SAFELY.

@shortstrawberry GIRL. when you said that i couldn't help but agree for a hot moment, bc EVERYONE needs a chill pill. But at the same time the arguement that it's just fiction isn't gonna cut it, bc there are too many flavors of fiction for people NOT to react. Thus, my earlier statements: that Fiction is a safe place to explore one's thoughts, no matter how dark it gets, but at the same time we have the responsibility in learning to recognize that there are still certain critical thinking we MUST do in order to properly handle such things. Not everyone is comfortable in what we create, and thus warnings need be applied. But otherwise, it's free real estate!!!

ALSO ough what anyone writes OR creates doesn't reflect their mental health or mental state!!!!!!!!! please you guys. sometimes exploring the possibilities is just that. EXPLORING. it doesn't mean the creator is a monster or a freak for making it. all content is a piece of artistic rendition, and just because the message is unpalatable to your senses doesnt mean it's garbage, nor of need to be censored. If you don't like it, simply click block and go!!!!!

As for the rest of the reblogs in the respective posts. Y'ALL. you dont WANT to start the kinkshaming discourse. But i'm on the side of NO kink shaming. As long as it's safe, sane, and consensual, who are YOU to judge the people involved? ... Don't forget the roots of the queer community. Our lifestyle was just kink to the majority then, and still is perceived by many conservatives as such. LEARN.

#i might have lost all braincells needing to type this out while monitoring the replies but dear miranda you guys.#personal.txt #resident lover

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pinkandgoldensoul · 1 year

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Already Home || Chapter 5 - Everything Has A Cost

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pairing: max verstappen x female!reader genre: friends to lovers, kind of slow burn, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, online hate towards reader, insecurities, fluff, angst other notes: fake instagram things? Loosely based on Singapore GP 2022 word count: 10.1k (as always, feel free to use dividers to split the chapter into chunks!) A huge thanks to whoever reblogs or likes the story and a special thanks to @ally4and33 for her support in the last couple days! ♥ Love you all!

It felt soft. The light knocking on your eyelids, asking for permission with its warmth. As your entire body slowly moved, awakening, you snuggled up to the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders and enjoyed its coziness. Max’s smell still trapped onto the pillow, you smiled with eyes closed. He wasn’t there, but you knew he had been all night, cuddling with you and falling asleep; you still could feel his thumb repetitively rubbing your skin as he held you close and the beating of his heart lingered on your mind as a beautiful song that you play on loop, knowing all the lyrics. By heart. Waking up to those memories – real ones, this time – made your insides twist in a pleasant discomfort; you knew you weren’t mistaken, you knew Max had stayed over with you, holding each other, and you didn’t have to fear or mistrust your mind. You had snuggled and cuddled together, and nobody could doubt it. No drunk, slurred mental estate could put those moments at risk. You owned them, forever.

You looked over to the side, only to realize Max wasn’t lying next to you. You weren’t surprised, though; you figured he may have decided to go training, have breakfast or simply get up. Staring at the ceiling, you smiled: your nose didn’t feel as stuck as it was the day before and an unknown wave of positive, bright feelings earned you a decent dose of optimism. You probably had been needing it for quite a long time. «Good morning, y/n.» Max’s voice made your head snap up towards the door, and you actually would’ve preferred not to see him. That smile wrinkling his lips, his eyes brimming with light, his whole appearance blinding you way more than sun beams could ever manage to: everything about him enchanted you. «Morning,» you whispered, stretching a bit. «Slept well?» he asked, getting closer to the bed. «Really, really well.» you answered, uncapable of stifling in a huge smile. «Bet you did, it’s 11:30!» Max said, laughing. «You sleep in way more than I do, c’mon!» As you said that, you rolled over the bed, facing the pillow, and you felt the mattress sinking down onto your side due to Max’s weight. «I’ve bought you some medicine.» You eyed the small plastic bag he still held in his hands. «I think I’m doing better.» «Doesn’t mean you’ve fully recovered.» Max added. «I know, but-» «No, don’t even bother telling me you don’t need medicine because I’m not listening to you.» After a small pause, Max looked at you again, almost unsure. «Do you really feel better?» «Yes, still a bit sluggish, but I feel fine.» Despite the positives in your feedback, he couldn’t help but get stuck thinking about the negatives. «Sluggish? Maybe you have a little bit of temperature?» «I don’t think so?» Max rummaged into the plastic bag and took out a brand-new thermometer. «Why did you buy a new one?» you chuckled at the sight. «Because now this is your personal thermometer.» «Thanks…? Didn’t know I’d need a personal one.» you raised a brow, still amused. «Oh, but this is special, y/n. It will know everything about you.» You inspected the packaging thoroughly, trying to convince yourself it would, without really succeeding. «You can give a name to it, if you want.» «Max, it’s a freaking thermometer!» you laughed. «So what? It may get offended if you don’t. You know, it’s really sensitive.» As he cracked that lame joke, you glared at him. «Tell me you didn’t say that.» Max’s cheeks immediately squished upwards to make room for his mesmerizing and innocent smile, happy and giggling as a kid would do after making a mess. And you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning at him as well. «You’re so stupid…» «And now I’m sure you don’t have a temperature, because your heart’s stone cold. Poor thermometer.»

After a couple of minutes – and a lot of insisting – Max dragged you out of the bed so that you could have some breakfast-brunch-lunch-whatever you have before noon; then, he persuaded you to take some medicine to relieve the dizziness and you started to feel better. Max noticed your eyes got livelier and livelier as time passed by and it only encouraged him to suggest new activities, as he would’ve liked to spend all day talking with you, relaxing on the couch, or onto the bed watching a movie, but in his mind a whim, an urge, a need and, ultimately, a duty, called upon him. Getting ready for Singapore. He needed to come back to his other house to get some simulator work done, he was missing it; but how could he ask you to come with him and get bored all alone? Or if you decided to stay at the apartment, how could he leave you alone again? Max felt troubled at the way he had gradually become unable to accept the idea of you being on your own; it wasn’t a matter of trust, despite the latest events. He simply couldn’t let go of your soft hands, of your scent, of your lips curving into a beautiful smile, of your voice chanting him like a siren.

Sitting onto the bed, Max played with your hair, combining strands into a messy braid. So lost in the process, he didn’t even remember when and why he had asked you to let him do so. «Are you going for a loose braid?» you enquired, enjoying the slow-paced rhythm of his fingers working on your hair. «Yes, my specialty.» As he heard you giggling, Max felt his heart caving in. «When did you learn to braid?» «When I was seven. My mum taught me how to braid Victoria’s hair.» A fond smile immediately bloomed onto your lips, and you were lucky enough not to have Max in front of you, so that you could hide it. He had shared with you a few of his childhood memories before, and his sister’s name always came up, either because she was present or absent during his karting days; you could tell he really loved her and somehow still felt sorry for taking their father and himself away from her. He had also showed you some pictures, which had your heart melting in awe, though you’d try to dissimulate. Max was a loving person and you cherished every seed of affection he would plant along the way, just so you could grow even fonder of him. «Is it done?» you asked, as the weight of your hair leaned back onto your skin. «Yes.» With a quick motion, you brought the braid forward, onto your collar bone, and stared at it. Max sat back in front of you and got captured by the sun light shining through the window behind your back, reflecting its gold onto some rebel strands of hair, as a perfect frame to your face. Reacting way too late to your “Thank you”, Max stuttered, realizing he still had to tell you about his plan. Had he prepared one? Not really. But his instinct dictated it to him, spontaneously, as he started speaking to you. «Tomorrow I need to go back to the house and get done the training for the race and I was thinking you could come with me.» Your eyes immediately flicked to his, a glimpse of surprise flashing inside of them. «A-are you sure? I don’t want to bother you…» «I’ll be locked inside a room pretty much all the time, how could you ever disturb me?» he chuckled. As you pondered in silence, Max prompted you with all the activities you could undertake there and reassured you about getting proper medications if you still needed them, offering to be the one to go buy them. As he kept maxplaining in order to persuade you, you giggled and stopped his rambling. «Max, it’s okay. I’ll come.» you smiled. His face immediately lit up, and your chest ignited at the sight; without noticing, his fingers had reached yours onto the bedcover and they had shared a rush of electricity, of magic. Of complicity. Of… something. Something you couldn’t name, but definitely something sweet, warm, comforting and almost painful at the same time. #

«This is the room. Do you need me to show you the bathroom?» «No, we’ve been here a few days ago, I remember.» «Fine.» Max scratched his head. «I’m… I’m going to ask what’s for dinner.» «Okay… I’ll take out my toiletries, then.» «Perfect!» Max rushed out of the bathroom quickly, eaten alive by embarrassment. He’d been awkward in his life before and obviously had slipped up countless times, but after that little talk, a thin veil of uncertainty, hesitation and discomfort weighed down onto his cheeks as a fire, covering the skin with a soft blush and making his hands slightly clammy. Max hated not being in control of his heart drumming inside the ribcage, pleading to get out and reach its half; he hated his voice cracking or sounding insecure despite the attempts at dissimulating; and he also hated his mind running, racing on its own and replaying moments he’d prefer not to be reminded of while standing in front of you. Could he really blame his mind, though? After all, he had been the one to ask you to come back to the house where you nearly had kissed, nearly had hooked up, nearly had crossed the fine line between friends and not-just-friends; still, it was the place you had danced clinging to each other, got drunk together with smiles, whispers, fingers intertwining and shivers, cutting all the noise and everybody else out of your piece of heaven. All these memories were mere rings to a longer chain and the more Max tried to trail back to its beginning, the further it would get due to the new – old – images of you two together, packed inside the same untitled folder of his heart. The only partial relief was he wouldn’t be able to spend too much time with you due to the simulator training.

He wasn’t alone in his struggles, though. You avoided the reflecting surface of the mirror in which you had seen played forbidden fantasies only a couple days before, and as you turned around taking a closer look to the bathroom, you eyed the bathrobe you had worn, all your attention channeled towards those three letters on full display. Max. You recalled yourself freaking out in there, convinced you and him had slept together, then stealing the robe away without a second thought. When did it all become so overwhelming you would fall apart simply going back to those memories? You closed the cabinet with a firm thud: getting through the sudden closeness had never seemed so hard.

«Hello?» Slowly waking up, you tried opening your eyes. «Hi, Alice, what’s up.» It was Max speaking; his voice was distant, but still clear enough to hear it. «No, I’m awake. Why are you calling, though?» He seemed like he was in the room next to yours, at the phone with someone. «Hope it’s not a new media activity, we already have a lot this week.» Visualizing the floor plan in your head, you reasoned he was in his bedroom. «What? Is this a joke?» As Max’s tone raised, you couldn’t refrain yourself from eavesdropping a little bit more attentively. «But where did they get these numbers? Did they make them up? Unbelievable…» Numbers? Was he talking about simulation work? «Well, we could sue them for defamation. ‘Cause we’re fine, right?» Nope, definitely not simulation work. Your forehead hurt, and with those words dancing in your brain confusion inevitably grew. «Alice, can we please talk about this on Wednesday? Just tell me that other thing.» Hands rubbing tiredness out of your face, you sat onto the bed. «For fuck’s sake… Is it bad?» Feet barely touching the ground, you tried gathering energies to get up. «THEY SAID WHAT?!» But Max’s altered voice got you flinching, startled, frozen in place. «How do they dare? Write down all their names, because I’m not being interviewed by those assholes! Don’t get them near me! Fucking dickheads.»

With featherlike steps, heart thumping in your chest, you leaned against the door frame of Max’s room, trying not to disturb him and hinting at your presence at the same time. «No, we’re not discussing it now,» he said in a hurry, after noticing you were standing a few meters away. You unsurely walked towards him. «But I want this to be clear: I am deciding what to do, and I don’t want anybody else to interfere.» As Max abruptly ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket, only to look at you, the breath you were holding finally released. «Who was it?» you managed to whisper, full of doubts and uncertainty. Max, noticing your distress and able to read that little veil of sleepiness you hadn’t been able to shrug off your face, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, giving you a shy smile. «Alice Hedworth.» You raised a brow, in confusion. «The communications manager of the team.» he plainly answered. You looked down, recalling the quick-tempered replies he had given, then raised your eyes back at him. «Why would you have to sue people? What happened?» «Did you eavesdrop?» You gaped at him, feeling like a thief caught red-handed. «Uhm… It woke me up, so…» Max sighed. He’d rather not tell you, but he was aware it was inevitable for you to find out eventually, so there was no point in hiding it from you. Plus, there was probably nothing to worry about. Or at least Max hoped so. «Some journalists claim we breached the cost cap last year. They also say another team is involved, but of course, we’re the ones under the spotlight and now they’re complaining about how it’s unfair we won the championship, since we did it illegally, to their saying.» Max’s placid expression wasn’t able to instill reassurance in you. «But you guys are really fine?» «Of course we’re fine, they’re just coming at us because they cannot accept they’ve lost and scandal is the only way to bring us down at the moment, since their car can’t.» He slightly chuckled at his own comment, but again, it did nothing to calm your mind down. «How could they invent all of this? I mean, it’s a pretty big accusation, they must have some sort of proof in order to say it… How did they get numbers?» «I don’t know, I’m not an accountant. And you aren’t a detective, y/n.» Max said, smiling at you. «C’mon, let’s go have breakfast.» He was guiding you towards the kitchen with his fingers barely brushing against your lower back, when suddenly another thought crossed your mind. «What was the second thing?» «Uh?» he said, caught off guard. «You said you wouldn’t release interviews to some journalists.» you explained, taking a seat. He frowned. «You really paid attention to the conversation, didn’t you?» Max turned his back to you, grabbing two cups from the cupboard and hiding his reaction to the topic. «You don’t have to worry about it.» he downplayed. «Just paparazzi being annoying as always. But they’ll be taken care of.» You would’ve liked to pay more attention to the way his tone had subtly turned serious, suggesting bother and almost rage; the last bit of the sentence been spitted out of the mouth as a curse, in a lower voice, so that its darkness couldn’t reach you.

You should’ve known. You should’ve expected it to happen, sooner or later. It was bound to happen, you told yourself. After all, been dragged down the pitlane by one of the most famous drivers in the world under thousands of flashing cameras wasn’t really a gesture that would get anyone go unnoticed by the press. Of course, medias had gone crazy over those pictures taken in Monza, but the true bomb was dropped with the rumors of the probably-not-so-private party of last week. Suddenly, your name started to travel from mouth to mouth, even though nobody had ever acknowledged your presence before. You went from being a stranger to the Cupid’s arrow breaking into Max’s cold heart, the one who caused him and Kelly to argue and ultimately split, a mysterious girl no one knew who had unspecified intentions: clout? Money? Visibility? After all, you could’ve never gained those alone: you weren’t that beautiful. Kelly was way prettier than you; she brought a heavy and significant surname and was successful in her field. Who were you? A parasite? A gold digger in search of fifteen minutes of fame? A lot of people agreed on the fact that you definitely didn’t look like someone worthy of being pictured together with Max Verstappen. To be fair, nobody had prepared you for it anyway, but you couldn’t say Kelly hadn’t warned you.

The weather in Singapore was extremely humid; you couldn’t tell, though, if the sweat forming onto your skin was the product of the low atmospheric pressure or the fruit of being swamped and chased by a group of photographers, journalists and phones used as microphones, directly pointing at you like knives. It wasn’t a walk of shame; indeed, you couldn’t understand what was there to be ashamed of, you didn’t know what you were supposed to tell those people, and neither could guess what they expected to hear when there was nothing you had to say. Still, your gut sensed the hidden words and the secret turmoil you had to keep inside, paired up with the anxious oppression of the small crowd surrounding you, addressing questions at you, as you marched head-low towards Red Bull’s garage. «Are you the reason Max and Kelly Piquet broke up?» «How long has he been cheating on Kelly with you?» «Y/n, please answer some questions for us!» «How did you guys meet? When did your relationship developed into something more?» «Y/n, please, can you confirm the rumors about the party in Monaco?» «Can you tell us more about your family?» You abruptly halted your steps. Which family?, you bitterly said to yourself. Still lost in thought, you distinctly heard the clicks of a camera taking pictures. In that exact moment, you felt nothing more than a lifeless doll inside a lions’ cage: you weren’t a person anymore, you were just an object, without feelings and sensitivity, which had to withstand whatever they wanted to do to you or give them anything they tried to gain from you. Before rage could take the upper hand, you felt two hands dragging you away from the journalists. «It’s enough pestering for today.» You felt Carlos quickly grabbing your arms and guiding you towards the heart of the paddock, in order to leave all of them behind and preventing them from even daring to follow you. «I promise you the hospitality is a much quieter place.» he said, smiling. A veil of numbness, though, had washed emotions away from your face: reality had thrown an ice bucket at you, not only forcing you to face your inner chaotic magma of feelings, but justify the lack or the presence of them in front of the world as well. It was clear, you weren’t ready. You told yourself the timing of the news was absolute crap, unmerciful, cruel; if it had happened a couple months earlier, the situation would’ve been almost totally under control. Because you would’ve had nothing to control. «Don’t mind them, they’re going to drop it soon.» Carlos’ words momentarily distracted from your trail of thoughts, and you were glad they did. «Hopefully you’re right.» you sighed.

You both plopped onto a small couch in the living area, absentmindedly watching the tv hung on the wall. Sitting in silence, caught in your headspace, you didn’t notice the Spaniards eyes studying your expression. «So… Italy did good to the both of you, uh?» Carlos smugly looked at you. You rolled your eyes, kind of annoyed. «Stop it.» «I mean, now I get why you were so worried something happened at the party.» «Aren’t you supposed to help me relax?» «Isn’t it working?» Your furrowed eyebrows made your confusion clear. «No?» «I think it does. Now that you’re mad at me, you’re getting those journalists out of your head.» As a faint smile lingered onto your lips, a voice coming from the tv immediately caught your attention, drew your gaze, captured your undivided attention: Max’s. Seeing him suddenly lit up your opaque features, and Carlos noticed; unfortunately, he also witnessed distress and worry replace the fondness inside your eyes. You couldn’t bear the sight of it. No, as much as you tried to avoid it, there was an inner part of you that shattered in pieces while hearing journalists insinuating stuff without proof, implicitly – but not trying to hide it either – suggesting Max wasn’t worthy of being a champion, that the 2021 title had been robbed. Once again, his abilities and merits were questioned looking at parameters that didn’t include his outstanding performance and talent. And it hurt you; somehow, it hit close. When he had informed you about the rumors it didn’t seem that bad, or serious, or anything that could be real, to be honest; but everybody referred to it as a grounded certainty, a fact to deal with and, even before an official confrontation with the FIA, all cried scandal. Inside Max’s cold eyes, you read frustration and anger. You couldn’t stand it. So you stood up. «Y/n?» Carlos asked. You left the hospitality without adding a word.

Your feet automatically moved down the paddock with small and quick steps, trying to go as fast as they could. You didn’t cross eye with anybody, because the only person you wanted to see wasn’t walking in the crowd. There was un urge, a deep-rooted need to seek refuge in Max’s arms, unfold your distress and take out his, merge them together and let go of them. With fidgeting hands, you reached for your phone in the jeans’ pocket and called him. You had so many things to tell him; so many useless words to make sure he was doing okay, so many dreamed reassurances you wanted to give and be given back. Although he wasn’t picking up, you marched towards your destination until you finally saw Red Bull’s logo standing out onto the external wall of the hospitality. You were ready to approach the entrance, about to step onto the stairs and run inside, but someone sprung up in front of you warding you off with an arm. «Sorry, you can’t get inside!» This person from the team guided you a couple meters away from the door you desperately wanted to cross. You looked at her closely, and you saw a tag onto her Red Bull shirt. That Alice, uh? Now it makes sense. «What?» you simply asked. «You’re not allowed to get inside our hospitality, I’m sorry.» she quickly repeated, shaking her head. «But I need to talk to-» «Y/n, I’m sorry, but you can’t. I don’t know what Max told you, but we as a team have other problems to deal with at the moment and we don’t want rumors about you two to be on the list as well.» The stern expression she put on made you stand still, speechless, almost uncapable of reacting. «Also, you’re not allowed inside the garage throughout the weekend. As soon as the situation with the media gets better, you’ll be welcomed again, I promise.» «I just wanted to talk to him.» you whispered. She sighed. And she left. After exchanging a few words with people from the stuff – probably making sure they wouldn’t let you in – she disappeared inside the building, and with her all your hopes of relief.

«She can’t get near Max down the track, in the pitlane or here in the paddock, okay? Paparazzi are everywhere and they’re just waiting for those two to slip up again.» Alice spoke to some colleagues in the communication area with a peremptory tone; hearing heavy steps behind her, though, she immediately turned into ice. «Who’s slipping up?» Max asked, quickly taking a sip from his water bottle. Alice deeply inhaled, mastering the courage to confront him. «You and y/n, Max.» she replied, sharp. As your name was brought into the conversation, Max’s focus shifted completely on it. «What happened? Did you see her? Did you talk to her?» Alice, trying not to get intimidated by his pressing questions, kept her tough face on. «She came here to see you and I had to make her leave. There are too many eyes on you, and I’ve already told you this is an extremely delicate moment! Also, Kelly is involved, and we don’t need other troubles…» «But Kelly isn’t involved at all, this is only between me and y/n! And we’re not even together!» Max said, raising his voice in frustration. «Press doesn’t care about the truth, they just know what they can see! And they will try to dig deeper if you give them the opportunity to.» «So what? I can’t see her anymore? She isn’t going to come over to our garage for races?» Max asked, sarcastic. He probably expected Alice to match his sarcasm, but she hesitated, afraid to fuel his rage. Her silence, of course, did the exact opposite. «I told you it’s my decision! If I want to hang out with her, I will! You’re nobody to tell me who I can spend my time with!» «This isn’t meant to be against you, and you know it.» Of course not, he thought. It never is. They treated him like a little puppet for their PR content he didn’t give a shit about and expected him to accept restrictions on the people he could spend time with. His manager, approaching Max to calm him down, put a hand onto his shoulder. «Come on, Max, let’s go-» «What would you do if they asked you to stop hanging out with a dear friend of yours?» he asked Alice, gradually more uncapable of containing anger. «I’d do it, if it’s for the good of the team.» «But this only has to do with me! My friendships don’t involve the team!» «Yes, but YOU are part of the team! Guess what, for most you ARE the team, you represent it, and when they see you, they think of Red Bull!» «And do you think this is fair to me or to anyone else working in the team?» he replied, crossing arms. «Okay, Max.» Alice said, resigned. «Okay. If you don’t like it, you can call Christian and tell him yourself.» With that, Alice simply walked away: she had nothing else to add, since there was no one willing to listen.

Max didn’t waste any time. His steps echoed through the corridors – followed by his manager, who vainly tried to stop him – and constant loud thumps could be heard from quite a distance, causing a few employees to peek the head out of their office to check who was passing by. He didn’t even knock on the door; there wasn’t time for formalities, there wasn’t enough patience to calmly handle the situation. «Can we talk?» #

You sat across each other. You weren’t there. It was hard to explain, but you felt some kind of comfort in being surrounded by silence despite a crowd of people going back and forth as little ants. Despite Sebastian sitting in front of you, sternly staring at you. There was tension; composure, studying of movements, distance. And it magically dissipated, as Sebastian’s sigh erased the wall of unsaid words dividing you. «I’m sorry for treating you badly last time.» you casually said, not daring to cross eyes. A pause. You quietly reasoned which words to use next, although Sebastian prevented it by breaking his iced silence. «You don’t need to apologize. I could see something troubled you, and I’m pretty sure it still does.» He was met with an unmutated expression. «You can talk to me, if you need it. Whatever it is, I’ll try to help you.» Yet another shower of silence. He then insistently searched for your eyes. «You don’t have to pretend you’re fine with all the media pressure. I’ve been there before, and I’ve learned how to deal with it.» «That’s not the problem.» you said, reluctant, diverting gaze. «Okay. Then what is it?» he persisted. Yeah. What was it? The press asking you about your private matters or them hinting at a romance affair which was non-existent, to your dismay? Was it the fact that you wished it was real and actually had to hide something, instead of fighting feelings you desperately tried to conceal and repress in front of anybody, Max and you included? «Or I’d better ask… Who is it?» Sebastian’s words had you like a deer caught in the headlights. «Guess Max is still the deal, right?» he inquired again, leaning his elbows onto the coffee table. «Yeah.» you hummed, mostly to yourself. «Do you like him?» Seb slightly smiled at it. «I don’t know. I mean, I think so, but- It’s probably just me, it’s not worth ruining our relationship.» you rambled. «Who said you are going to ruin the relationship?» Seeing Sebastian put a skeptical face, you swam in your own insecurities: the amount of paranoia you’ve been dealing with in a week made your head hurt, and for a second the clouds darkening your mind got away thanks to Seb’s light of reason. You would reflect upon it in another moment, though: the weekend already seemed difficult even after putting aside your emotions, and you clearly weren’t in a position to gamble. «I can’t afford to lose him.» you then stated, staring at the sky still lost in thought. «Trust me, Max won’t let go of you that easily. He really enjoys your company, you’ve got nothing to fear.» Sebastian smiled. You tried to do the same, but you told yourself you would’ve liked to be as confident as he was.

Max didn’t like losing. Not that hard to figure out, some would say. But it was a trait which he kept also off the track; there was something so confident and assertive in the way he would speak his mind, express his opinion, a sort of determination stemming from dead-certainty and belief. And Max had just conquered a small win, after all. You weren’t allowed to enter the Red Bull garage, but he had managed to convince Christian Horner to let you stay in the hospitality. «But I don’t want her to be here tomorrow and on Sunday, understood?» Christian asked, making sure Max wouldn’t take advantage of it. Max nodded, despite not being fully satisfied yet; after texting you to come over and seeing you enter the hospitality, though, a bright smile immediately spread over his lips, as he immediately searched Alice’s eyes to catch her reaction and enjoy it. She crossed her arms and simply walked away, visibly annoyed. At the same time, Max saw you getting closer with a cheerful appearance: without even thinking twice, his arms were ready to welcome you in a hug. «Thank you.» you murmured as you parted. Looking at you, Max couldn’t restrain a thought: winning had never tasted so sweet. #

«So many corrections, right?» «Yeah… I lost the count of all the times I was about to hit the wall!» Max and Charles having a little debrief after the first sessions of free practice was an established tradition no one ever really complained about. The two of them were walking inside the paddock, heading towards the hospitalities, and the discussion gradually shifted from track conditions to simply catching up with each other. Charles was quick to notice way more cameras than usual were pointing at them; he hadn’t really paid attention to the rumors, so he felt naturally weirded out by the sudden interest. «Is it just me or is everybody following us?» the Monegasque lightly chuckled. «Yeah, seems like it.» Max brushed off. «Did I do something?» Charles asked, utterly oblivious to the situation. «No, they’re here for me, don’t worry.» They stopped a couple meters before Red Bull’s entrance, but before splitting, Max stepped in. «I still haven’t apologized for how I treated you the morning after Zandvoort. So, uhm, I’m sorry.» Charles squinted, thinking hard, then let out a “Ah!” after successfully remembering the situation. «Don’t worry, I noticed there was tension between you and y/n. It’s fine.» As Charles added a smile to the sentence, a laughing filled the air and made the two drivers turn their heads: they saw you getting out of the hospitality playing and laughing with Sergio’s wife and, in particular, with her children. You had spent time with them and watched free practice together, and now that it was time to say goodbye. Exiting the door, you immediately perceived stares on you and couldn’t help but cross them. As you and Max made eye contact, a spontaneous and traitor smile appeared onto your lips, making Charles slightly spying on Max’s expression to observe his reaction. Acknowledging the newly relaxed atmosphere between the two of you, he didn’t miss the opportunity to tease him a little. «Did she already recover?» «Yes, almost fully.» Max answered, as they saw you discretely blow your nose. «She’s doing a lot better.» «And you’re both doing better, I see.» Max was about to look at him and reply, tell him off or something, but he wasn’t able to divert gaze as you gently tousled Sergio’s son’s hair, a fond and amused look in your smiling eyes. Charles’ goodbye reached his ears delayed, and Max got lost staring at you, in awe, his heart twisting in affection.

On Saturday, things didn’t get better. Max had texted you to ask if you’d like to have breakfast with him outside of the paddock before the third session of free practice, so that the team couldn’t have anything to scold him for. You had gladly accepted. You dressed up, combed your hair and pulled the door behind you as you got out; inside the lift, you felt a light comfort since you were about to spend some time with Max again. But no, things weren’t supposed to get better. In fact, as you tried to get out of the hotel, you were stopped by the presence of a bunch of journalists waiting outside the hall glass door. Do they care that much about me?, you wondered. You stood still, hands closed into cold-sweat fists, unable to take a decision. A voice inside of you told you not to pay attention to those jerks and to fiercely make your way past their ignorance; silence would kill their loudness. However, there was a gut feeling you couldn’t ignore, pleading you not to enter the lions’ den, because you simply wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. Paralyzed by fear, you retraced your steps.

Pushed the door, took your shoes off and passed a hand through your hair, breathing deep. There was nothing to freak out about. You got closer to the window and peeked down the street: they were still there. That’s normal, you thought, they were there a few minutes ago. You swallowed. You noticed your mouth had gone dry. Was it dry when you woke up? You couldn’t tell. Swallowing multiple times, you realized it still hurt a little bit. Did it hurt when you woke up? You couldn’t tell. You quickly took your phone out and texted Max. “sorry, I don’t feel good, I’m not coming” Had you just made up an excuse so that you didn’t have to show up? You couldn’t tell. You sent the text, then threw the phone onto the covers in distress. You peeked down the pavement once more: they were still there. Nothing to freak out about. You picked up your phone from the bed once again and did something you had never done, something you shouldn’t have, but that your irrationality reckoned as a good idea. Scrolling social medias to read what they had said about you. To your surprise, you found several debatable Instagram pages which posted stolen shots of you and Max. The most frequent attribute either one of you was given was “traitor”, oftentimes written in full capital letter onto your faces. The real cruelty, though, was stored in the comments section.

No need to freak out.

You run back to the window, your breaths picking up the pace as you noticed they were still there, still fucking waiting for you in order to assault you like a prey. You shut down the blinds, closing off the rising sun’s beams, drowning in the darkness. The phone, which you had let fall back onto the bed again without noticing, vibrated with a muffled sound. “Thought you were doing better…?” Knees gradually gave in under your shaky body, crawling on the floor with your back against the wall. “I thought that too”, you slowly typed. In that moment, your throat tickled and made you cough so hard you hoped to spit out the anguish’s knot in your stomach, emptying your body from the very bottom and finally getting rid of that discomfort. Before you had time to process it, coughs turned into sobs and a few ugly tears hid around your eyes, making your skin sting and burn. #

Sick. «What’s that pout, Max?» You had got better so fast, you’d had no problem for days… How come you were sick again? To be fair, Max easily guessed illness had nothing to do with it. «No, nothing.» Something was up yet another time. He knew you would avoid in any possible way further exposure, minimize the risk of being caught together and troubling the both of you. And this drove him mad. He couldn’t care less about other people’s opinions: he’d always had to fight against prejudices and poor thinkers, sailing the sea throughout major shitstorms, and he had learned how to handle the pressure from a very young age. He was used to it. But you weren’t. And he was aware. Though, he wished you would stop being so conditioned and influenced by other people. «Then put your helmet on, it’s almost time to go.» Lambiase’s voice brought him into the present, awakening the sounds of fervent mechanics bent over the car, the noise which had made him zone out in the first place. #

Vox media. A vox media is a word that has a neutral meaning per se, but can carry both a good and a bad one; it’s like a medal, with its two faces, both brought into the table whenever the term is mentioned. It’s funny how the chances of getting the wrong message it’s almost non-existent… Well, the context usually clarifies it. There are words that can only have good or a bad meaning in a specific situation. And as a driver, in the middle of your last flying lap of the last session, knowing the checkered flag is getting closer and closer and so is the adrenaline for a conquered pole position, taking all the possible risks you can in a street circuit, searching for grip in every single centimeter of asphalt, there’s probably only one thing you don’t want to be told. «Box, Max! Box, box, box!» «Why? What the… why?» A stab amidst the chest. This is what those words felt like for Max, leaving him breathless for a second, as his focus broke and fury took its place. «What the fuck!? What the fuck! What are you guys saying?!» They left him yelling in frustration on his own, keeping silent; but Max needed answers. «I don’t get it, what the fuck is this about?» «I’ll explain once you’re out, Max.»

As Max parked the car for the FIA to check it, his eyes flicked to the side: flashes got his attention, and a group of cameramen run towards Red Bull’s pit wall to picture their failure. And it was in that moment he finally realized how all the pressure the media had kept on the team had pushed the system to crumble like a house of cards, making them get stuff wrong with his car and preventing him from delivering as he was about to do. Did he really wanted to be filled up with crap excuses for their mistake? No. He had obliged to whatever they had instructed him to say in interviews about the cost cap, and they had thought banning you from the paddock would solve their problems. It clearly hadn’t. Max got out of the car and removed his helmet in a hurry: GP tried to hold him back, to no avail. He had already gone past him, not sparing a glance.

Max marched towards the hotel. The sweat clung onto his skin like a suffocating veil, and his frustrated rage certainly didn’t help getting rid of it. He passed the back of his hand on the forehead. He was on the edge. All because of the team fucking up his qualifying, the team who was in everybody’s mouth for the cost cap scandal, the team who had decided to get you away from him for PR reasons. His mind was filled up with racing thoughts, but one thing was extremely clear: he was fed up with all of it. There wasn’t any tolerability left; he would’ve stripped himself naked and run to you undressed, if that would get those paparazzi and “journalists” out of the way. Out of his way, out of yours.

Entering the building, the receptionist didn’t even manage to address him with practiced polite words, since Max simply sped right past him, thinking his racing suit would serve as a sufficient introduction.

He knocked onto your door with such a force you jumped, startled, still sitting in front of the tv in shock for the mishap. When you opened to him, your shock grew even bigger. Max didn’t give you time to react and stormed into the room as soon as there was enough space for him to sneak inside. You turned and followed his restless pacing back and forth, mouth still agape for the surprise. «Max, what happened?» you tried to ask, but the words came out with a shaky voice. «No fuel.» he replied, closing off the blinds to unwanted attention. «I… I’m so sorry… But I’m sure you’ll have the pace tomorrow! And- and there might be a safety car! Anything can happen during the race…» Rummaging through your mind in search of words of comfort, you stared at Max, who was giving you his back. He nervously passed a hand through his hair, as his chest started rising and falling quite fast. Why did he get there? It wasn’t your fault, and neither could you turn back time or change the situation. What was he searching for? What did he expect, what did he want from you? In a fraction of second, Max turned around and he immediately got the answer. You felt your wrist been pulled, while your bodies crashed together onto each other, molding together, melting, clinging. You could hear and feel onto your skin his hot, heavy and shortened breaths, as Max’s face nestled against the crook of your neck. It was so quick you didn’t see it coming; it was so natural you didn’t even try to avoid it. Because it simply felt appropriate and right to let Max loosen the embrace enough to stare at you and then quickly closing the gap, leaning in for a kiss. Hands full of your skin and lips dancing heatedly onto yours, Max understood: this was what he came there for. He hadn’t been able to resist without you, especially after the pressure he had withstood. He had needed you so bad. You couldn’t rewind time and prevent mistakes from happening, of course; but there was a lot you were able to do by simply standing on his side, smiling, encouraging him and checking up on him, things he had terribly missed. He just couldn’t stand the idea of you watching him from a screen, miserable, not even daring to put foot into the paddock in fear of people halting you and asking you inappropriate, nosey questions. And as his hands firmly held your head, perceiving the skin underneath them emanating warmth acted as a foot stomping on full throttle: suddenly, he needed to feel your body even closer, despite your faint attempt to regain breathing space gently pushing on his chest, and his tongue asked for permission to deepen the kiss, slowing down the rhythm only to make it more intense. Max had lost control since jumping out of the car, but he hadn’t realized; and even after running to you with his suit still on, ignoring every person around him, knocking on your door and kissing you out of the blue, then getting all worked up, no, he still hadn’t managed to notice. But your hands, still pressed down onto his chest, eventually splitting you apart… Yes, they were the ones to break the spell. The bitter cold that hit him as your body got away from his hold felt like a slap straight to the cheek. He sobered up, all at once, unable to speak or say anything now aware of his actions. On the other hand, you didn’t even know what had pushed you to move away: in fact, a part of you immediately regretted it. Out of breath, you vainly tried to come up with an explanation, some sort of defense, and quickly acknowledged your guards had completely fallen apart as soon as Max had crossed the threshold. «I didn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.» Max said, clearing his throat, visibly embarrassed. «No, Max, I…» You what? You didn’t know, you couldn’t state it openly; was it a problem telling him or admitting it to yourself? Was it his unreadable expression making your hands clammy? Or was it him walking away defeated and disappearing as quickly as he had into the room? #

You tossed and turned under the covers, willing yet unable to find peace of mind: Max’s touch still lingered onto you, pervaded your senses and couldn’t brush him off your thoughts. You wished you had stopped him from leaving you in such a confused state; in fact, you wished you hadn’t stopped him at all in the first place. That kiss had felt like heaven: unexpected, unplanned, sudden, so that your heart sank into your chest; urgent and needy, as you were, even after not seeing each other for less than twenty-four hours; casted with tenderness, because it had stemmed from a comforting embrace; burning of desire, incomparably more passionate than whatever you had been able to imagine in your dreams after the party. Had it been another dream? Did you fall and hit your head? You sat straight up and pinched your cheek, scared to be living a lucid, feverish fantasy. It stinged. It was real. You crushed back again onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling and sighing. He had kissed you first. He had run to you, crossed the darkness of the night with his hair still sweaty only to kiss you and walk away. You wanted to torture yourself with how it wasn’t possible for you to love each other, but the only thing you could wonder with a smile written on the heart was whether Max had enjoyed it as much as you did. Above all the pictures journalists could’ve taken, opposed to the previous occasions, you told yourself you would’ve liked having been caught this time. Just to have a proof for your unreasoned happiness.

After unsuccessfully attempting at falling asleep, you had sent a text to Charles, asking him if they could have you inside the garage for the race. There was no way you would manage to lock yourself into the room, staring at the tv and watching Max doing everything he could to win the race and, possibly, the championship as well. Charles, a born gentleman, said yes despite being conscious of the extra spotlight the team would have to face.

You were surprised – and pleased – to see that nobody was waiting for you out of the hotel; strange, you thought, but people had probably got bored and tired of standing, and they decided not to harass you on Sunday. How kind of them.

Sitting with headphones in your hands, you watched the rain fall, mindlessly fidgeting with the wire. «Here you are, the star of the moment!» Charles chirped, taking a seat right next to you. «Y/n, an interview, please!» said Carlos, mocking one of the pleading journalists he had saved you from on Friday. You threw an annoyed glance at both. «I can still leave.» you threatened with a smile. «Oh, but you won’t.» Carlos confidently said, putting a pair of sunglasses on. Charles, amazed, eyed his teammate. «Carlos, you’re such a fashion icon!» «Tell me something I don’t know yet.» the Spaniard boldly replied. «Uhm… It’s raining and you don’t need sunglasses?» you asked, skeptical. Carlos let out a sigh in fake annoyance. «These aren’t for the sun.» he indicated them. «It’s a filter for all the bullshit you’re going to feed us with after we’ve asked you what we want to ask you right now.» He then turned towards Charles, who stared at him trying to telepathically read into Carlos’ head. «What… what was the question?» he whispered, still looking intensely at him. Carlos, flipping his head towards you, bore his eyes – well, definitely his sunglasses – at you with a knowing smirk. «Y/n.» «Yes…?» «I’m not getting in the car if-» «He’s not getting in the car!» Charles repeated after him, impressed. «Yes. I’m not getting in the car unless you tell me what the heck is going down between you and Max Emilian Verstappen.» Silence filled the air, as Carlos nodded in gloating and Charles shook his hand uttering a “Such a good question, mate”. After the little scene, they both turned to you at the same time. «So?» Carlos urged. «I… I don’t know what you want me to say!» you said, embarrassed. «Well, you could start with explaining what you were doing last night in the same room.» «How do you kno-» «Someone from the Ferrari stuff was down the corridor and saw you opening the door to him.» Charles confessed. Still a little bit mad about your privacy being violated, or better, about your vulnerability being exposed, Carlos pressed you even further. «Don’t you trust us? Charles, y/n doesn’t trust us.» he said, sad and offended.

You deeply inhaled, desperately trying to master the courage and tell them so that you could be over with it, but words died before you would even shape them. Charles, noticing how difficult it was for you, had an idea. «Carlos, why don’t we take a guess? And whoever loses, must stay five seconds under the rain?» «And the winner?» «The winner… The winner wins a hot chocolate!» Charles said, his eyes searching for confirm in yours. «Fine.» you breathed out. «Okay, I go first.» Carlos eagerly said, sitting on the edge of the seat. «You… you cuddled onto the bed!» «How sweet!» Charles chuckled. You shook your head, in denial, whispering “No, I’m sorry.” It was Charles’ turn, now; he leaned forward, forearms onto his laps, trying to read your eyes. Uneasy, your pupils flicked right and left in search of relief. «You kissed.» As he spoke those two words, a sudden cloud of warmth burned your limbs, awakening them from their sleep: your heart beat faster, your lips slightly parted in surprise and a pink flush tinted your cheeks. «You kissed!» Carlos yelled, jumping onto the seat, as if everything had become clear. Unable to sustain their astonished expression, you looked down. «It’s not something to be ashamed of.» Charles immediately tried to lift off your embarrassment. «It’s all wrong… I mean, all of this, we shouldn’t-» You stopped talking as you felt a hand touch your shoulder: it was Carlos, this time addressing you with a serious face. «Did you like it?» «Carlos…» «Did you like it, y/n?» «Yes, I did.» you whispered.

Feeling small in your chair, you hid the palms of your hand under your laps, still self-conscious. «I don’t know if he liked it…» «Bet he was the one to go for it.» Charles quickly jumped in. Yes, he had been. And the mere idea confused you even more, made your heart flatter and do somersaults inside your chest. «…But even if he did, we can’t go out or something, with all the hate we’re receiving. The team would never allow it.» «Y/n, listen.» Carlos began, addressing you. «After a qualifying session like the one he had yesterday, no driver would’ve crossed the city to leave a meaningless peck on a friend’s lips. He likes you and you like him, so there’s no need to overcomplicate things because of your fears when it is that simple.» «It scares me.» you whispered, still deep in thought. «I’ve got so much to lose…» Charles softly smiled, then cleared his throat to gain your full attention. «Imagine to be an f1 driver in qualifying: it’s Q3 and you just have one shot to set the pole. There isn’t time to be careful or afraid, you must send it, even if it means you have to take risks.» «Yeah, you gotta send it!» Carlos said, in excitement. «You get nothing for nothing, y/n.» «Guys, I’m not a racing driver.» you laughed. «But you’re going to be together with one of the best out there, so you need to gain some courage!» Charles, not satisfied with the discourage written over your face, tried to persuade you a bit more. «You will probably confront about it pretty soon anyway, and I think you should tell him how you feel. If you don’t, you would both miss out on an amazing relationship.» Uncapable of sustaining the serious atmosphere for so long, Carlos broke the short silence that followed Charles’ words. «Nah, would they really? I don’t think Max deserves it.» Saying so, Carlos took his glasses off and put them back into the pocket. «I’m getting emotional… Our little y/n has grown up so much, Charles…» he turned to him, «She’s about to have a boy now.» «And what a boy, Carlos!» the Monegasque chuckled. The three of you shared a laugh; as you watched them jokingly bicker, you couldn’t help but think you were lucky to have such amazing people to support you, despite them being famous and busy any time of year. Charles, feeling your eyes onto him, stared at you with a brow raised, as you seemed about to say something. «Thank you.» You both smiled at each other. «Oh, don’t thank me, y/n. You owe me a hot chocolate, after all.» Charles said, «And you have to go under the rain, Carlos.» «No, I don’t! It��s not fair!» he protested. «You gotta send it, Carlos!» you told him, Charles laughing uncontrollably at your joke. «You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.» he replied, raising his pointer finger at the two of you.

No one was surprised to find a tensed atmosphere around Red Bull’s staff. People had tried to dig deeper into the cost cap story to see things clearer, pointing at the team and angrily accusing them of cheating “once again”. Max let it all rain down, wash the frustration away from him and erase the grip from the track at once. His mind was somewhere else. He couldn’t make sense of his escapade; he had overstepped any boundary and completely disregarded any resolution he had set for himself. The “fine line” has been crossed and there was no making up for it. «Like the rain?» Max peeked over his shoulder and saw Daniel approaching. «It’s relaxing.» he then answered. The Aussie nodded and stared intensely at him, then looked out the window as Max did. «Do you remember the morning after the party?» Daniel abruptly asked. «In the kitchen?» «Yes.» «Uhm, yeah, there was Carlos as well.» Max recalled. «Right.» he paused a few seconds before carrying on. «Before you got up, I talked with him a bit and he told me a few things about y/n.» Daniel knew he had perked Max’s interest as he felt a pair of eyes watching attentively, and couldn’t stop a grin. Max, thrown off by his behavior, sighed annoyed. «If you’re joking, this isn’t funny.» «I’m not.» Daniel replied. «Carlos said y/n was freaking out because she’d had some kind of dream about you two but couldn’t tell whether it was some blurred memory or her subconscious messing with her in hangover.» «What was the dream about?» Max found himself whisper. «I don’t remember exactly. But you can ask her.» Daniel, pleased by his reaction, looked at him. «Carlos told me y/n likes you.» Those words sent electricity through his fingertips and awoke his heart, which beat faster: Max felt caught by feelings he couldn’t control nor understand, and they took over him to the point he couldn’t stop himself from releasing them. «Dan, I kissed her.» Max blurted out, confessing. Daniel goggled at him. «At the party?» he asked, surprised. «No, yesterday. After qualifying.» Silence. Max scratched his neck, nervous, itching everywhere, the same electricity travelling onto his skin. «Dan, I don’t know why I did it, and… and I don’t know what to do, because at first she seemed to be okay with it but then she pushed me away! I have no idea what’s going on…» Daniel flicked his eyes to the side before inching closer to him, so that nobody else could hear what he was about to say. «Max, I know you’ve just broken up with Kelly and that it might be too soon to say, but have you, like… considered you could’ve fallen in love with y/n?» The dam of his heart’s lake fell apart and a waterfall of emotions poured down as the rain did outside the window. Needless to say, Max’s awareness of his feelings for you hid under the thick layer of unconscious knowledge, and being exposed to it upset him greatly. «Guys, it’s time to race!» they heard someone say, probably some engineer from Red Bull or McLaren passing by. «It’s showtime.» Daniel said, nudging Max.

You watched the race from the Ferrari garage, once again, and it was even more nerve-wracking than usual, as yellow flags followed one another. Your eyes were vaguely paying attention to the images onto the screen, but your heart was constantly searching for Max’s position, and when a massive lock-up brought him in a run-off area and forced the team to pit, you were caught by an indescribable sadness, since the championship title was inevitably postponed.

Walking down the pitlane, hiding yourself from indiscreet eyes with some of the Ferrari merch Charles had given you as a camouflage, you saw an orange suit waving towards you. «Daniel! Congratulations for p5!» you said, grinning at him. «Oh, thanks.» he replied, a bit absentmindedly. His answer left you a bit dumbfounded: after such a good result for the team – with Lando in p4 – and for himself as well, you expected to see a glimpse of happiness in him. Then you reasoned he had just got out of the car, drenched in sweat and physically worn out. «Are you okay? Do you need some water?» you asked, not able to read his expression, eyes gazing far behind you. In fact, Daniel was tired, but his poor reaction was due to focus: he was searching for someone down the pitlane, and that person was Max. The Dutch had asked him to detain you in the middle of the post-race crowd so that he could confront you and talk to you without leaving the track (as the team had ordered him, after the latest events).

Max had run to the weighing to be one of the first drivers on queue and had jogged back to the garage to drop the helmet; he was so impatient to reach you, despite not being sure of what to tell you exactly. Maybe he simply wanted to see you and have you close. Easily getting rid of his PR assistant – since she was too caught up speaking with Sergios’ – and lowering the cap’s visor in hope of going unnoticed, he fiercely walked with eyes scanning left and right, and when he finally spotted the two of you, every step was lighter, as he felt closer to finally break free and disclose his hidden feelings. «Max!» Or maybe… not yet. «Max, stop!» Alice’s voice halted his wide strides; Max turned around, livid, and he would’ve lashed out at her if only he hadn’t seen the worry covering her face. «Take a look here!» she said, handing him the phone.

What's wrong with this instagram story, you ask? Oh, nothing. Simply sets up half of the drama planned out for next chapter. (I can't believe next chapter could be the last one, don't wake me 'cause I don't wanna leave this dream)

AS PER USUAL, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! ♥ I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

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#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 angst #golden #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

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sailing-ever-west · 9 days

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can never stress enough how racially charged this scene feels whether it was intentional or not. (don't have the complete page but found some relevant panels, Klahadore says even more demeaning stuff but this is the gist).

One Piece is already about class warfare thematically but add in the specific language Klahadore uses and the fact that Usopp is black-coded and it feels...chilling, honestly. Klahadore insults Usopp in an incredibly personal way, going after his father (and by implication his family, his class, his people), demeaning him for who he is and where he came from, saying he lacks moral character because of it and he'll never amount to anything more than a criminal like Yasopp (despite Usopp having not done any criminal activity at this point). And then when Usopp is rightfully angry and fights back, Klahadore uses that as proof that he's naturally violent and animalistic.

It's like. Textbook.

Also, "the guards have reported seeing you lurking around the estate" may as well be directly pulled from real life instances of racism. White people reporting a "suspicious person" in their nice, suburban neighborhood when it's just a black man walking down the street or visiting a friend like anyone else. Granted, Usopp was sneaking around to some extent but he really wasn't very discreet about it, he just knew he couldn't come in through the front gate. (Also, he only had to sneak through the back because he was discriminated against and not allowed to come in like a normal guest!!) Nothing was ever stolen. Kaya was never hurt. There was no indication he was doing anything actually threatening. Really he was shunned for the crime of daring to socialize with a pure, innocent, rich white girl who must not understand what a danger he was to keep as a friend.

And then there's the part where Merry freaking shoots him, no questions asked, which I think about constantly. Now, at that point, he appeared to be kidnapping Kaya, so it was totally reasonable to try and use force. But Merry has known this boy for years and he's never been violent or threatened Kaya in any way. Even just then he took out the guards non-lethally and only when they attacked him. Surely there would be explanations to demand, or some solution other than going straight to a shotgun (especially when Kaya could be easily caught in the crossfire, and almost did while defending him), but no, he turns on Usopp in an instant, all the way to lethal weaponry. I can't help but think of how many black people have been shot by cops or paranoid homeowners at the first sign of trouble, with no other considerations, just that instinct of fear.

Feel free to say I'm reading too much into it, since as a white person myself I can't exactly claim authority, but I can never watch these episodes without seeing this.

#one piece #god usopp #one piece usopp #syrup village #east blue arc #racism #tw racism #racism in fiction #tw gun #op meta

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hyde-ur-monsters · 7 months

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On account of me procrastinating and the idea of a Monster High and Danny Phantom crossover (with a focus on Sam and Clair) breathing down my neck, I had a tiny fic idea that i will now write instead of the assignment my grade depends on

Jackson and Claire were having a perfectly calm outing. It had been a while since they hung out, and they had a lot to catch up on. They decided to go to a nearby cafe; it had a nature theme going and Jackson was curious about it.

“You’re such a hipster,” Clair had teased him, poking him in the side.

The line was long, so they got ready for a long wait and talked in the meantime. Jackson was ranting about his biggest ongoing project (body duplication). About how he had the theory down, but so far all it would do is instantaneously produce an exact clone of the subject. He couldn’t figure out how to produce a double based on the subject’s thoughts and it was frustrating him to no end.

Jackson tended to lose track of his surroundings when he was talking about his Interests, and Clair was facing away from the line, so it was kinda his fault when they didn’t move along with the line and left a sizable gap in between them and the person in front of them.

Naturally, some guy who had just walked into the café saw the gap and thought, hey free real estate.

Clair caught the face Jackson made mid-rant, his i’m-annoyed-but-also-non-confrontational face, and turned around just in time to see the guy cut in line in front of them. Clair raised an eyebrow at the sheer audacity.

“Is he fucking serious?” She said this loud enough for the Opportunist Ass to hear.

Jackson grimaced when the guy squared his shoulders but made no inclination to move. Oh this was going to turn into a Thing, and he did not want it to turn into a Thing.

“It’s fine,” he whispered to Clair. “I got carried away and didn’t realize the line had moved.”

Clair turned to him with a glare.

“We’ve been waiting ten minutes in line, Jackson. He can take his turn like the rest of us instead cutting in line like a parasite,” she said annoyedly, before turning to the guy. “Dude, in case it somehow escaped your beady eyes, the line starts at the door.”

Instead of ignoring her this time, the guy glanced at them over his shoulder with an unimpressed look.

“Go somewhere else if it bothers you, freak. Not my fault you were wasting time talking about weird shit.”

Taken aback by his response, Clair scoffed in disbelief. She couldn’t think fast enough for something to say, so the guy turned back around and went back to ignoring them.

“Real original,” Jackson muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes.

“I hate—”

“Clair, just leave it. We’ll get our coffee either way.”

Clair frowned, brow furrowing like she wanted to say more, but she kept quiet. She didn’t like arguing with strangers. It was more stress than it was worth. Besides, she knew Jackson hated making a scene. She could let it go.

“Hey, asshole!”

The two friends jumped at the shout, eyes wide. They slowly turned to look at a girl their age decked out in goth attire (a dark purple tank top paired with a loose, ghost-patterned cardigan, a long black skirt, and a pair of tall platform boots peeking out from under the hem). She wore heavy eyeliner that did nothing to make her look less terrifying as she glared directly at the line-cutter.

The guy glanced minutely behind him, intent on ignoring her, too.

“Yeah, you, dickhead. They told you where the line was, but I don’t see you moving.”

Everyone else in the line was turning to look at the scene, the goth girl’s shout having caught their attention. There were murmurs around and Jackson suddenly felt too many eyes on them.

The girl hadn’t moved an inch from her spot, but that didn’t take away from the feeling that she would drag him out of the spot if she could.

Oh please don’t let this turn into an altercation, Jackson pleaded silently. He wanted to melt into the ground as it was.

Clair on the other hand smirked at the goth girl. She felt braver now with someone else taking the stand, and she put a hand on her hip giving the guy a raised eyebrow.

“You heard her,” she said, too satisfied with herself.

The guy glared at them both.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” he stated with a sudden air of confidence that made Clair scoff and the goth girl stomp her boot.

“I saw you cut in line, dumbass,” goth girl accused, pointing at him.

“Yeah, nice try, but we’re not blind. The line starts at the door,” Clair repeated, jabbing her thumb behind her.

“I don’t take orders from weirdos.”

“First time for everything. Get moving or get lost.”

Goth girl stared him down, but it wasn’t until other customers in the line started speaking up and telling him to “stop holding up the line” and that “people who cut in line have a special place in hell” that he finally moved, muttering angrily.

Someone from a table actually cheered.

Jackson wished he was Invisibilly so people wouldn’t keep staring at him. Clair looked deeply satisfied with the outcome.

“We’re paying for that girl’s coffee. Sorry for the mess, Jackson, but that was true goth girl solidarity. I either owe her coffee or my soul.”

He snorted despite himself.

“Preferably just coffee.”

They did pay for her tea, not coffee, and even invited her to sit with them when they realized there weren’t any other tables available.

The girl, Sam, was only there because it was the only cafe in town that had vegan options. This side of town, at least, but Jackson couldn’t tell her about the plethora of vegan food places in the monster side of town.

The three of them got to talking about what the town had to offer, because apparently Sam was here visiting a friend and didn’t know anything about the place. Then she started asking about the history of the town, saying she’d heard there were witch hunts back in the 1600s. Jackson and Clair had shared a look at this, but waved it off as rumors that came from tourists who confused Salem, Oregon with Salem, Massachusetts.

“Bummer, I really wanted to find some witch ghosts. Actually, do you guys have any spooky or haunted spots—”

Sam’s phone ringtone blared out— the Ghostbusters theme song —and she rolled her eyes at the caller ID.

“About time. Hey, Danny. Tucker with you? Cool, I’m at a cafe on the other side of town, I’ll head your way.”

She stood up, phone in one hand and tea in the other, and gave her temporary cafe buddies a friendly smile.

“Thanks for the tea, and for the satisfaction of telling an asshole off. See you guys around.”

They waved her off as she went back to the conversation on her phone. Clair thought she heard the word ‘ghosts’, but put the concern away. Lots of regular people were into the paranormal. There were even Ghost hunters all over Youtube. It was fun and dark and spooky. Clair used to watch them as a kid.

She never would’ve guessed she’d actually get to meet one, let alone be interviewed by said ghost. There was a lot in her life nowadays that she never thought she’d even get a chance to see, actually.

They sat in silence for a bit, before Jackson spoke up.

“Did- did she say she’d meet her friends on the other side of town?”

“Yup.”

They looked at each other. Jackson pressed his lips into a thin line.

“We should probably—”

Clair sighed.

“Yeah okay, fine. Let’s go.”

#they go to the Mawl to inform/interrogate the Ghouls only to find #Sam and Danny(Phantom) and werewolf!Tucker getting a tour from Frankie #*point at each other in spiderman meme*#this is kinda silly but fuck it #monster high #jackson jekyll #clair #danny phantom #sam manson #dp x mh #uggghh i have to back to do my stupid assignment

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