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#You may be thinking 'that's because that's the name of the train brand'. You are wrong! It is because Jon is on it :)
show-your-fangs · 10 months
Note
I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.
By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊
anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.
It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner
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introducing--
The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader
Words: 3k
CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.
Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.
a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 
Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 
It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.
A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 
No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   
The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 
Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 
But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 
To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 
The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 
He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 
And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 
She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.
It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 
He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.
Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 
It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 
But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 
He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.
Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—
user1102: Bunny.
bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚
user1102: Can we play?
Bouncingbunny1: yes sir
He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 
You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 
You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 
You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 
But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 
You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.
That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 
And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.
You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 
He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 
You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  
You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.
“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 
“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 
“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 
“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”
He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 
That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 
“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 
“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”
He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 
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You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 
You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 
You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.
Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 
You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 
Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 
You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 
It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 
He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 
user1102: Bunny, I need you.
The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 
He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 
But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 
“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 
He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 
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You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 
“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”
He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”
With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 
Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 
You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 
Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 
You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 
“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 
Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 
You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 
“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”
He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.
There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.
His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 
“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—
user1102: Come to my room. 
The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.
Who the fuck did they both think they were?
bouncingbunny1: ???
user1102: 604
The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 
user1102: Now, bunny.
You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?
At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 
You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 
“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”
“No, Master.”
this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.
y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.
tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh
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natigail · 2 months
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"I figured hey, if I'm here, I might as well be honest with myself. So I dug into the archives. And I found teenage Dan. Do you remember HELLO INTERNET? There I was, eighteen years old, your average caucasian British boy with your problematic vocabulary, just wanting so desperately to be liked. I then saw myself age twenty, as a student. Not that I was actually studying anything other than the male anatomy. I had no plan. No prospects. I was in desperate need of a haircut. Jesus Christ. No, look, that was not a hairstyle. It was geometry. My hair was a square. I then saw myself age twenty-two as an adult, just trying to make my way in the world, taking any job that I could, no matter how inauthentic or degrading. And look. I don't hate these past versions of myself, alright? Apart from the square one, it can get in the fucking bin. Mainly, I just feel sorry that it took them so long to work out who they are. I then stumbled across the video titled Existential Crisis. In which I utter the optimistic nihilistic epithet: 'embrace the void and have the courage to exist'. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist. It sounded nice when I said it but for some reason it just didn't hit. I had accepted the absurdity of the world but at that time, I hadn't accepted myself. Looking back at it, it finally clicked. Anyone who has suffered with depression or any kind of trauma that seriously affects your self-worth hopes that one day you're going to have this sudden revelation and then everything is fine. I had my revelation alright. I am unapologetically gay! Don't know if you hadn't picked up on that, so far in the show. But just having this revelation did not immediately fix all of my problems, because I still feel that inherent burnt-on brand that I am wrong. And that doesn't just go away. No, I know what my problem is, alright. My problem I am always living for the future. Every day I am thinking about this dream future where all of my dreams have come true and all of my problem have gone and everything's fine. And so, every day in the present of my life can be this joyless unrelenting grind towards that future. But it's okay. It's going to come any day now, right? Learning to look yourself in the mirror and being honest about what you've been through and keep living in spite of that can be hard. It takes a long time and a relentless persistent resistance against the way that you've been trained to feel by the world. But that doesn't just mean you should give up. Because, sure, sometimes in life, you may feel trapped. I felt trapped by my sexuality. You could feel trapped by your culture or your community. Hell, you could be literally trapped in an elevator but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't try to get out. 'cause, sure, when I look at the state of the world, I am very tempted to just go: You know what - we're all doomed. But that isn't courageous. That is cowardly. It's the easy way out. Even if it is, as I hope you'd all agree, a really fucking cool name for a show. So that's the thing. You can either say to yourself, every day is just a discontent emoji or you can find the courage to force your inner smiling cowboy hat, ye-motherfucking-haw! And just try to find in everyday life. Which is why I made this show. So I'm not living in the future but I'm just right here, right now, with you, just trying to have one good night. And look. Hey. Who knows, huh? We may all be doomed. Death may be inevitable. But first, we get to live. Life might at times be a struggle but just being here, to put one foot in front of the other every day is living. So please, do not let the doom drag you down. You are important. You matter. Please, stay hopeful for the future. Appreciate life. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist." - Dan Howell, closing monologue of his show "we're all doomed" (2022-2024)
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meabh-mcinness · 11 months
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I really loved your Narnia courting headcanons!, can we get the same but for Kalego and opera?
You sure can! We’ll start with Kalego and then do Opera in a separate post because space~ totally not because I find them harder to write hahaha😅
Kalego Courting Human!reader
Much like his older brother, it’ll take a minute for Kalego to even admit he likes you, much less try to court you.
But for a completely different reason.
Whereas Narnia wouldn’t want to because you’re human, Kalego wouldn’t want to because he seems to have some less than desirable thoughts towards “love”.
Likely due to the way he was raised I will strangle whoever came up with the Naberius rules, I swear He seems to be the type to believe love is a distraction rather than something to seek out or even want.
Probably doesn't help that you're related to a boss he hates and a student who constantly causes trouble. Not to mention who your security devil is.
Also, he probably doesn’t know you’re human still, at least in the beginning.
Because let’s be honest, at this point it’s not so much that no one trusts him with the secret so much as you just literally forgot to tell him and have assumed he knew, since both Shichirou and Opera do, and he's always involved in things that happen.
(This leads to a very funny confrontation one day when you kinda just throw out some knowledge about the human world in comparison to the Netherworld.
“You act like you’ve been there.”
“Well of course I have, it’s a bit hard to be born a human down here. Although I wouldn’t be too surprised if there's a small colony or two hidden somewhere. As a race, we're rather adaptable, it's why Iruma and I can attune to different situations so well.”
“…born as a what now?” 😐)
He may have a tiny fit about this at first.
Humans are considered weak and fragile, after all.
But he gets over it.
Once he finally admits to himself he does in fact fancy you, he still won't make a move right away.
Kalego is a surprisingly cautious demon, and he doesn't want to risk the humiliation of rejection, or make either of you uncomfortable.
He will however choose to be around you more, subtly testing the waters with your reactions to different things.
He isn't very good at it, though.
You ask to borrow a pen since yours has run out of ink? He'll hand one over with only a bit of snark, his fingers purposefully brushing against your palm and linger for a moment or two longer than necessary.
You complain, only to him, about running out of your favourite brand of something? The next day, you have an "anonymous" gift of that very thing.
He is only slightly less petty to you. Whereas other 'newbie' teachers will end up with piles of work as tall as them, yours is maybe half that.
Just as I said in Narnia's, I think demons start courtships with gifts!
I think he'll probably give you something along the lines of practicality, but specialized practicality.
Perhaps a leather-bound notebook with a pretty one of a kind design on it. If you're the artist type, he might get you the highest quality brushes with your name ingrained on them.
I still stand by that Kalego is the silent acts of service, gift giving and quiet quality time type.
He's a confirmed rich boy, and so has no issue giving you gifts he thinks are worthy of your station.
Definitely not into PDA. The most you're getting out of him in a public space is an offered elbow and a hand on your back to guide you in crowded areas. If you're lucky, you might get a hand to hold.
I don't know why, but hand holding with him just seems super OOC to me. But him placing a possessive hand on your back seems far more in character.
He's an old school lover by personality and training.
He is better at initiating at home, but not by much.
Will hug you randomly when he needs comfort, though. Buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent until he has nothing but an empty brain and you.
While he's bad at initiating touch, he's perfectly fine with you doing it. Just gotta warn him before you do bigger things.
Want to rest your head on his shoulder while you both grade? AOK, as long as you're in private.
Want to sit in his lap while you both read, sharing a glass of wine, music playing in the background? He's more than OK with that.
He also enjoys having you pet his head. Enjoys the pressure of your fingers against the spots where headaches had been forming, and then are chased away by your skilled ministrations.
Also, I feel like he would enjoy ear messages?
I personally think that much like Narnia's been confirmed to have a seriously good sense of smell, Kalego has seriously good hearing.
He says "Silence!" so much, even when the people around him don't seem that loud, because they actually are that loud to him.
Better than normal senses are both a blessing and a curse. For him, though, it's mostly a curse.
He works in a high school filled with loud teenagers and just as loud co-workers. His ears are probably practically bleeding before the first period has even started.
Which is why he enjoys the ear messages. Helps the pain go away.
When it comes to you, though? He's never been happier to have it.
He loves music, but he's found no better rhythm than your heart beat and has never heard a better vocalist, even when you're sick with a scratchy voice.
You are quite literally his favourite song.
Hope you're brushed up in musical terms, by the way. He will use them a lot.
Despite his love of music, he probably doesn't get much chance to talk about it. So you're going to bear the brunt of everything he wants to say from the "The lyrics are atrocious, but the melody is quite lovely. Though they could stand to add a piano bit here and perhaps a few more strings." to "Have you heard so-and-so's latest album? It's really very good compared to other things coming out lately. It almost seems like this band knows what they're doing. Almost."
Although let's be real, hearing him jabber on about his interests is not going to be a chore.
Speaking of interests, I hope you're OK with cacti because they are everywhere.
He likes to collect them and takes great joy in caring for them.
Will occasionally compare you to one, but he means it in a good way.
Not in a 'you're really prickly' way, but in a 'Much like their beauty, yours is incomparable and unmatched before anyone else's' kind of way.
He'll also do things for you without prompting.
Running low on items needed for a beloved hobby? You'll suddenly find them replaced the next day.
Need to eat, but you don't have the energy to cook? He'll either cook for you or have a spontaneous restaurant date.
He'll always have a fresh steaming cup of tea for you in the morning. Or your whatever your favourite drink is if you don't like tea.
On a side note, I feel bad for you coffee lovers because I'm pretty certain it doesn't exist in the Netherworld, and it doesn't seem like there is a counterpart to it.
Have fun going cold turkey! -Love from a tea enthusiast
He will play music for you!
And if you also play an instrument? Even it's just singing or a light clapping of the hands, he would love to duet with you. Having a partner to play music with is literally something I can see him looking for in a partner.
If you don't play an instrument, but like to dance? He would more than love to see you dancing to his music.
It makes him feel things he didn't know he could feel.
If you can't music or dance, don't worry! He's more than happy to just play for you as you listen.
If you're interested, though, he'll be more than happy to teach you.
Little at home dates teaching you to play the piano or the violin, or any instrument you want to learn, is one of his favourite ways to spend time with you.
Line Break
He's quite distressed though when he realizes that by courting you, he's exposing himself more to the Sullivan family. He had to call out for a few days from the headache it gave him and wanted to cry at the fact he'd have to be related to the two demons he hated most, plus his favourite problem child.
Unlike Narnia though, he's incredibly helpful with raising Iruma since he practically already saw him as his own pup anyway. (Lets be honest, all of the misfits are his kids, even if he won't admit it.)
He brings the stricter side of parenting to your softer one to help balance it out. Iruma is quite happy with this arrangement, since now he has another parent to bring pride too and encourage him.
Sullivan cries a lot at Kalego blocking him from a good portion of his overboard ideas when it comes to you and Iruma. It's one of the few times you can see Kalego and Opera working together without complaint.
He's also a real guard dog when it comes to you.
He is fully willing and able to fight off anyone and everyone who decides they want to have a go at you. Even if it's his own family members. Whether it be members who have gone rogue coughNarniacough or members who think that courting is beneath Naberius's, especially unranked demons, he'll fight them all.
Listen, I have a headcannon that the Naberius clan uses highly ranked surrogate carriers and just don't do courting/marriages because romance would be a distraction.
Kalego fully believed in this until he met you. Now he's fighting the other family members (i.e his father, because his uncle couldn't care less) into submission because he refuses to give you up.
Speaking of Naberius headcannons I'm pretty sure they all have dog tails, and while Kalego usually hides his, he'll let it out and about for you. When you're alone, of course.
He refuses to admit it out loud, but he enjoys your fingers running through his tail fur, move your fingers just right, and you might even get to see it wag a little.
Will occasionally sit down next to you and just plop his tail in your lap for the pets while pretending to have not noticed and be doing something else.
Also, he's addicted to you even if he's very good at not showing it.
He's not pleased to go an extended amount of time without seeing you.
Will be extra grump and waspish during that separation period, and then will actually be slightly touchy when you're back.
Especially after the HeartBreaker exam, he will be keeping an incredibly close eye on you, and will be making lots of excuses on why you should be spending time together. From schedule/training planning for the misfits, to paperwork discussions when on school property, to a lot of at home dates when you're not at school.
In other words you have your own personal guard dog.
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sericasong · 5 months
Text
Nestling・✦ drabble
noun - a young bird not yet old enough to leave the nest.・✦
Dad Keigo. Dad Keigo. Dad Keigo dad Keigo dad Keigo. This is mostly just rambling after @takami-takami's incredible work reminded me of this idea as a whole.
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Keigo is a father.
It repeats in his mind every second of the day.
Keigo is a father.
No, he's never raised a child, and it's such a terrifying thought that he might not do well, but god dammit, Keigo knows how to love someone with every atom in his body. So that's just what he does.
It's handy, he thinks to himself, that he has all the budget of the country's number two hero at his disposal. It means he can spoil his little ones so much that he could take a sponsorship from the dictionary just to get his picture by the word indulgent.
You thought Keigo adored buying you anything you love before?
Well, you're right. But you're still going to have to adjust your standards of lavish, because he refuses to have anything but the best for his children. Not in fancy name brands or high prices, no- it's all the things they enjoy, all soft blankets and fluffed pillows and favorites favorites favorites in every category.
He tries not to overdo it, he really does. In fairness, he's not the kind of parent to let their kid skate by without growing as a person- he doesn't want them to be coddled like he often gets, and he wants them to learn and develop properly.
Can you really blame him for giving in a little more often than he probably should, though?
(You can, but he's so soft and so happy when he gets to see them smile. It makes it a lot harder to be mad.)
It suits him, fatherhood. The training that raised him, the cameras that chase him, the Commission that hones him like a knife, oh, they're nothing in the glow his family gives. He's dreamed of shelter like this for years and years and finally.
Not the glare of steel nor the polish of stardom are brighter than Keigo in this sanctuary, this gentle home he's made with you. A simple thing and a safe thing and he's so proud to say it's his.
And though his past may follow him in shrouds of somber shade, he much prefers the teeny shadows that patter after him in tiny shoes.
Oh, his little nestlings.
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The Clarkesworld AI Spam issue is one of those stories that to me really highlights the limits of the tools that hype is obscuring. Clarkesworld is a well-established Sci-Fi publishing magazine that today had to suspend all of its submissions due to being overwhelmed by ChatGPT generated entries:
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This inspired a lot of discourse around the idea of a ‘crisis of credibility’ on the internet, AI sweeping away the boundries of authenticity in a flood of forgeries. How can magazines even operate in this new environment, one might ask?
Which is weird because this environment isn’t new at all, as the editor, Neil Clarke, comments on in his blog post around the problem:
Since the early days of the pandemic, I’ve observed an increase in the number of spammy submissions to Clarkesworld. What I mean by that is that there’s an honest interest in being published, but not in having to do the actual work. Up until recently, these were almost entirely cases of  plagiarism, first by replacing the author’s name and then later by use of programs designed to “make it your own.”
The issue isn’t that spam exists, its the quantity:
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This is undoubtably a gigantic spike, and 100% it is induced by ChatGPT.
But hold on - is ChatGPT actually *better* at this that previous spam tools? Niel doesn’t think so, even if he is worried about the future: 
I’m not going to detail how I know these stories are “AI” spam or outline any of the data I have collected from these submissions. There are some very obvious patterns and I have no intention of helping those people become less likely to be caught...
... What I can say is that the number of spam submissions resulting in bans has hit 38% this month. While rejecting and banning these submissions has been simple, it’s growing at a rate that will necessitate changes. To make matters worse, the technology is only going to get better, so detection will become more challenging.
And how expensive was the plagarism before to do anyway? It was copy-pasting text, automated word replacement programs, and done, that is trivial. Its a little harder than ChatGPT, sure, but you could make a thousand in a day no sweat, automated scripts randomizing names and jumbling nouns from a list. 
The success rate also seems to be zero! Neither plagarism nor ChatGPT generates any story worth a damn, these aren’t being accepted. Neil is quite confident he is catching 100% of them and I believe him on that, these tools cannot write good fiction of any length beyond a paragraph. 
So what is the ChatGPT’s advantage over previous, ‘dumber’ spam that justifies a 100-fold increase in spam usage? I am not seeing one, and I don’t think there is one besides marginally lower per-spam costs. Phrased another way, what was stopping someone from submitted 500 spam entries in one month in 2021? Nothing but interest in doing so.
Which is the rub of why this is happening - it isn’t because ChatGPT is good at this task, its because its the hype thing to do. Everyone is talking about it, everyone is trying it out, everyone is trying to find “delta” so they can ride the hype train. A bunch of people, some who may have even had axes to grind against Clarkesworld, have heard of this brand new fun tool and are flooding into the market to take advantage of it. But there might not be much to take advantage of; hype is fleeting, particularly in the face of no results as this effort is getting. As it fails, unless that axe really needs grinding above all else, spammers will move.
All of this to say that this story is, again, not a story about AI at all. AI is just the reason these already-bad parts of the system are being tested in the public eye.
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karniss-bg3 · 7 months
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I figured you’d be the right person to ask this question, why is Kar’niss’ skin super pale when he was originally a drow? 🖤
I had the same question myself and I did some digging a bit ago. All of the official drider concept art I've seen has depicted driders with dark skin, so it stands to reason that the transformation alone wouldn't be enough to alter his appearance. This leaves one interesting theory at play; Kar'niss was a Szarkai.
Szarkai, which translates to "ghost spiders", are albino drow. This is a very rare mutation that affects only 0.1% of the drow population. Their skin tones are so light in fact that they are able to pass as surface elves with little trouble. Some would think that this would make them outcasts but in fact Szarkai were viewed as a blessing of Lolth, hence their namesake.
There are some interesting crossover traits between Kar'niss and Szarkai that lean me more toward this theory, such as: -Szarkai look almost identical to drow outside of the skin tone. However, they have also been known to have minor deformities. The most notable is "gnarled and claw-like hands" which we know Kar'niss to possess. Originally I thought this was due to the transformation, but now I think he may have had it prior to the change.
-They are very adverse toward combat, preferring to let others do the dirty work so to speak. When the player engages Kar'niss in a fight one of the first things he does after his multi-attack is cast sanctuary on himself, protecting himself from harm and forcing his companions to take the hits. I also saw a video where someone cast banish on Kar'niss and when he returned he disengaged, healed himself, and ran from the fight. Now this was likely a bug, but it'd be on brand for Szarkai's desire to escape a fight rather than engage in it.
-They were mostly used as spies and gathering information since they could easily blend into surface societies. While there isn't much evidence that Kar'niss has much training in this field, what stuck out to me was the professions Szarkai favored. One of them is bard, and we have at least some notion that Kar'niss is linked to one musical instrument by way of the spider's lyre. I recall someone commenting asking if the lyre may have belonged to Kar'niss at one point and while I can't say with certainty, if it was and Minthara was merely holding on to it then it'd lend credence to him being a bard formerly. That and he's super pissed if you play it poorly!
-I haven't done a playthrough with Minthara in my party so I am not familiar with all of her dialogue lines. However, she does know Kar'niss in some capacity and the lyre is used to call him. Her last name is Baenre which is one of the most notable drow houses in all of Menzoberranzan, famous for Jarlaxle the leader of Bregan D'aerthe. I say this because Szarkai seemed to be far more common in noble houses, which Baenre would be. This could, even if loosely, establish a link between them.
IF this is true, that puts a very intense spin on Kar'niss' potential history. Szarkai were protected, considered valuable, and their existence kept secret. They were removed from drow life, and even kept in far safer conditions than others. This didn't mean they were shielded from the cruelty drow are known for but it was a different kind of cruelty. Often trained from a very young age to be spies and saboteurs, and subsequently being shipped to human cities to do as ordered. It makes me wonder what Kar'niss could've done to incur Lolth's wrath to the extent she warped him into a drider. Betrayal? Failure? Weakness? Or perhaps Lolth just really wanted an alabaster pet, it's hard to say.
Thanks for the ask!
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komoboko · 2 months
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Hi! Not a request but just curious. What kind of pets do you think the kananoko squad would have in a modern au?
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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐧
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ft: tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, genya shinazugawa
These are 1am rambles brah
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TANJIRO would like to raise a dog, standard but oddly fitting for him. I think he would have multiple to be honest, he enjoys breeds that are more active so I would see him with a golden retriever or a Labrador. His pets really like you to!! Almost like he silently taught them to be just like him.
He definitely has dogs that get big but still thinks they are lap dogs 100%. Whenever you come over to his house and sit anywhere it’s a 50% chance a dog will come lay near you, next to you, or usually on top of you. His dogs are kinda spoiled to, he’ll you he scolds them but you caught him giving them treats when he was suppose to one time.
ZENITSU wants something small, not to big and easy to manage. Personally I think he own a bunch of guinea pigs. Very random choice but just hear me out. They remind me of his sparrow, he likes to hold them when he’s around the house. You may see him walking in a thick turtleneck during the summer, but that’s just because his guinea pig is resting in the next area.
They are a little stubborn though, even zenitsu doesn’t know why. They can get mad and almost bit you before, but that’s normally if they haven’t eaten. You don’t what zenitsu feeds them but he definitely has those really thick guinea pigs just for no reason at all. Well there is a reason as you have to invite his guinea pig to the table to eat with you all during dinner. Also obanai is banned from coming over is kaburamaru is tagging along.
INOSUKE probably wants a really unconventional pet, like I bet he tried to convince you to let him get a boar before. In the end he sticks with a dog like tanjiro. Just the breeds are different I bet he wants have to have a doberman or a German Shepard. He wants to train those dogs for war I tell you.
You refused to enter his house for a bit until his dogs get to know you, you preferred keeping in your feet and not getting tackled by his dogs. He likes to play fight with them always playing fetch with them outside. Although besides this you to went a farm that was mixed with a shelter where they have this really small boar. Every time you go there inosuke always spends time without. He named the lil dude megatron.
KANAO I feel like would have a bird of some sorts. A really well trained one as well. Not like a usual house pet but those really expensive exotic birds. She’s trained it and had help from professionals to train it now, it’s at this point where you can almost have full fledged conversation with it. It knows both of your names, the food it likes everything.
Sometimes the bird is unusually smart.. like the time you brought snacks that you and the bird can both eat but kanao never wants you to. When she can back you had everything hidden and the perfect fool proof lie created. Until the bird “coincidentally” said your name and the beaks brand right after. You were the one getting in trouble and her bird face no repercussions.
GENYA is pretty straightforward he just wants a cat. He likes how they’re more chill and calm and sometimes just hang by themselves or with him. also because the cat owning trait was subconsciously influenced by gyomei’s love for cats. It just grew on him eventually. I think I can see him with one of those black and white bicolor cats but I doubt he would care about the breed.
You tend to compare Genya to his cat a lot because of how similar they look in the face. For some reason Genya’s cat just looks mad, all the time. He could be giving it treats and it would just have the more monotone expression on its face. The cat doesn’t mind you though, Genya could be calling it thinking it’s asleep. Only to find it trailing after you while you go to sit on his couch.
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oneatlatime · 5 months
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Journey to Ba Sing Se, Part 1: The Serpent's Pass
Alternate title: Gimme Appa Back, Take Two.
Bit of a mouthful for a title. I will definitely be watching this apparent two parter as two single episodes. There's commentary too, but that'll wait for a rewatch.
The previously on segment seems to point to Suki making an appearance. I didn't like her in her original episode, so this bodes ill.
That was incredibly ominous title card music.
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Explain this to someone who's never seen the show. Also, air mattress made of ice is a very efficient way to get hypothermia.
Sokka saying "no more distractions' actually summoned a distraction. He should look into harnessing that power.
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This brings up a point I've been thinking about. So the Earth Kingdom are smart enough to house refugee transportation underground, presumably because they've figured out that fire can't dig. So why didn't the entire population of the Earth Kingdom just become mole people at the first sign of fire nation attack?
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Get yourself Iroh's brand of chill. It's dearly bought in his case, but he has such a good way of looking at life. Also, half of Zuko's face is like an inch higher than the other half, and that haircut is not doing him any favours.
Oh god it's fuckboy. I'd take a million Sukis over fuckboy. Nice to see that the majority of his posse seems to have come to their senses and deserted him though.
CABBAGE GUY!!! HI CABBAGE GUY!!! I MISSED YOU!!!
She's got a point about destruction of the ecosystem, but unless there was woodworm in that cart, that platypus bear is guilty of needless destruction of cabbage guy's possessions.
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I loved this. The double punch of getting stymied by bureaucracy and undermined by cosplayers. There are some wacky ideas in this episode.
Aang! You may have lost Appa but you still have your glider! You don't need a passport or a ticket! Just fly to Ba Sing Se and make puppy dog eyes at the Earth King to make him send a boat to collect your friends!
You know that part in Harry Potter where Ron and Harry miss the train and decide the only logical course of action is to steal a flying car rather than, I don't know, wait for a responsible adult? I have a feeling this show is going to do the same type of thing with the whole Serpent's Pass. And I have to say, it's a brilliantly accurate way to do a plot that involves pre-teens, because they will often reach for the most out-there, illogical course of action no matter their intelligence. Curse those still-developing neural pathways. It also makes perfect sense in a kids' show, where the audience mostly wouldn't be caught dead turning down an adventure in favour of asking a responsible party (or a bureaucracy) for help.
"It is your pleasure" Get wrecked bitch!
I love seeing Toph weaponise that which previously kept her caged. I love to see Toph winning at life. Actually, I love to see Toph.
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Get yourself some friends who'll commit to the bit no questions asked like these guys.
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Get yourself a man who says your name the way Sokka says SUKI!!!:D Get yourself a girl who's so into you, she'll flirt with you in front of your entire found family.
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Momo knows what's up. He's a good judge of character.
It's rare for me to advocate for criminal behaviour on this show, but after that bureaucracy lady denied them any sort of solution for the refugees who got their tickets stolen, I was kind of hoping that Katara would just say 'fuck it' and steal one of those ferries. Or even smuggle people on to them. They've got two waterbenders; they could make ice boats to take them out to the ferry, or even across the whole lake presumably. Plot dictates they go face this serpent thing, because this appears to be a monster of the week episode, but boy did that ferry lady need smacking.
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Sokka's acting funky.
Is corniness one of the side effects of pregnancy?
No one in their right minds thinks that a pass called "the SERPENT'S Pass" in a universe like this one is named for its aesthetic qualities. Nice try at misdirection, but there will be a Sneky Boy in that water.
Aang's kind of right about the whole 'hope is a distraction' thing. Hope can too easily go from fuel to crutch.
It didn't occur to anyone to hide from the Fire Nation ship until it passed?
Toph's just saving everyone's bacon today huh?
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Am I sensing some post-Yue trauma?
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I would love to know the context behind Zuko knowing this very niche skill.
Jet has this fascinating ability to do objectively good deeds in such a sleezy way that you end up siding with the greedy oppressors. Weird.
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This makes so much sense. Aang zipped into the Avatar State so hard and fast in the desert that he probably scared himself, so now he's keeping a lid on things so hard that he's scaring everyone else with his newfound apathy. He's 12, and this episode he feels 12. This is probably the first time he's met emotions this big; of course he doesn't quite know what to do with them.
You know, Katara doesn't get paid enough to put up with this.
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Suki. Honey. I'm pretty sure there's a girl code about not flirting with a guy in front of his ex.
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Has Suki been filled in on the whole moon thing? Or is she just really confused right now?
You know, Smellerbee is just as unusual a name for a girl.
Jet talks the talk, but I don't believe he'll be able to walk the walk, despite second chances being one of the big themes of this show. Something about him still feels off.
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Hope you guys can swim!
Katara to the rescue again. I'm liking this new level-headed action-oriented Katara that appeared in The Desert, and I'm glad she wasn't just a one-episode character.
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Momo here fulfilling one of my childhood dreams. There was an aquarium room at my local zoo that had a tunnel you could walk through. Seven year old me would have sold my soul to be able to glorp through the glass and swim with the fishes like this.
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Once again, Toph saves the day. She's doing a lot of heavy lifting this episode.
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Big Sneky Boy has the colour palette of an exercise video from the 80s aerobics phase. Kind of detracts from the terror when he's wearing a leotard.
Number one sign of irresponsible pet ownership: sacrificing your lemur to Cthulhu.
Aang just bitchslapped Big Sneky Boy.
Why didn't they go with a big ice bridge in the first place?
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Yeah that's a problem. Could she make rock skate blades and attach them to her feet maybe? Would that help her see?
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Guys. Just. Send someone out there for her. The ice doesn't have handrails. Come on.
Suki can swim in like half a tonne of armour. I bet they have swimming with armour on drills on Kyoshi Island.
"You can go ahead and let me drown now." That is EXACTLY my sense of humour.
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Unlike goldfish, Big Sneky Boys can be flushed down the toilet.
"Now it's nothing but smooth sailing to Ba Sing Se." *Something immediately goes wrong* Has Sokka thought about harnessing his ability to speak things into existence?
Tragically, it makes perfect sense that Katara knows exactly how to deliver real human things.
"You know, as soon as I saw your scar I knew exactly who you were." Jet's little speech here got the biggest laugh out of me yet. I had to pause so I wouldn't miss dialogue. He's so deliciously wrong.
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This episode's Beat Up Sokka quota is fulfilled by a baby that has yet to be born.
"I want our daughter's name to be unique" TAKE COVER FOLKS! UNNECESSARY VOWELS INCOMING!
Didn't you guys just nearly get killled by a pass that told you to abandon Hope? Are you sure about that name?
Ok it isn't pregnancy that makes you corny. It's being a character in this episode. While I'm glad to see the back of Stoic Aang, this is getting to be a bit on the cheesy side.
Hell yeah Katara deserves that cry. And that hug.
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I'm watching this at my mom's house and I need to report that when Sokka said "You came along, to protect me?" my mom audibly went "awww!"
On a more serious note, this is exactly what Sokka needs after the Yue situation. A badass girlfriend who not only can and does take care of herself, but who also can and does take care of Sokka. Boy needs some pampering.
That is one hell of a wall.
That is one hell of a Big Sneky Boy.
"Appa's gonna have to wait" hit like a tonne of bricks. Another step in the journey to turn Aang from carefree monk to repsonsible Avatar. Appa having to wait is a genius story beat, but I want Appa NOW.
Final Thoughts
I had to check out my window for flying pigs before I started typing this section, because Zuko was consistently the most reasonable character in the B plot, perhaps in the whole episode. Apparently the 'make Zuko decent' project is finally seeing results. Have we turned over a new leaf? Dare I hope? It helps that he was juxtaposed with one of the single most batshit crazy characters from season one, but still.
I also need to issue a formal apology to Suki and all of her fans. I didn't like her in The Warriors of Kyoshi, and while I'm still not overly fond of that episode, I love what they've done with her character here. A good standalone character with her own strengths, goals, and responsibilities, and a good match for Sokka. I'd go so far as to say she's a better match for Sokka than Yue was, for all that both ladies have a startling amount in common: a position of responsibility, devotion to those who regard them as a leader, good taste in water tribe ass, etc.
I'm also going to hypothesise that Sokka is, in universe, the hottest member of the Gang. He's now had four girls expressing their interest: Suki, then Yue, then Azula's pokey pink friend whose name currently escapes me, and now Toph too! And she can't even see him, so his hotness is more than skin deep.
This episode was another stealth character episode in the style of The Blue Spirit. You think it's an action episode but it's actually character work with some fights for spice. It's got: -payoff for Katara's new-found levelheadedness -the other side of the coin on Aang's desert freakout -Toph doing just ALL the heavy lifting in the absence of Appa (seriously, teach her to fly and you won't need Appa as anything but a friendly couch) -Toph also getting an incredibly logical weakness that she learns she can rely on her friends to surmount -Sokka getting some Yue resolution from a frankly ironic source -Zuko getting what I'm sure is going to turn into a dark mirror
Speaking of fuckboy, there was nothing in this episode that hinted that Jet's turn to good was anything but genuine, but something about him still really makes my teeth itch. So I'm calling it now: based not on any evidence, but entirely on my own feelings, Jet's turn to good isn't going to stick.
There was some corny stuff in this episode, but it's a kids' show. It gets way more allowance for corny than an adult show does. I'll let it slide, so long as it doesn't become a habit.
This was part one of a two part episode, but it certainly didn't feel that way. There was the Big Metal Sneky Boy plot hook at the very end, but other than that it was a self-contained story.
I had predicted last episode that the rest of season two would be spent getting to Ba Sing Se, and they did it in one episode. So I'd like to announce my retirement from predicting the future because I am not good at it. I have no idea where we're going beyond next episode. I guess I'll have fun finding out!
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mcheang · 6 months
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The stone among diamonds
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Yeah, Lila has an overinflated ego if she thinks she’s going to be invited to an upper class party because she’s a model. Only those born in prominent families are invited and Mrs Rossi clearly wasn’t. She overestimated herself and got too pushy.
When Kagami told Lila about the diamond dance and the latter expressed surprise at not being invited, Kagami’s answer was blunt.
“Of course not. You may be a model for Gabriel, Lila, but this dance is for those with connections, not for every model. Adrien is coming because he’s Gabriel’s heir. My family is ancient Japanese nobility. Chloe’s father is the mayor. If you do want to come, you should ask your mother. She’s the ambassador right? She should be invited. I know a few political diplomats who were.”
Lila feigned a smile, knowing full well her mother’s job was nowhere near prestigious enough for an invitation. “She did receive it but she rejected it. She’s never been one for parties. And it was just one invite.”
Kagami: oh, then I’m not sure what you can do. You can ask Gabriel if you may attend in your mother’s place.
Lila: I’ll be sure to do that. Besides, as the face of the Gabriel brand, I’m sure I’ll merit my own invitation
Kagami: don’t hold your breath on that count. You also have to have a rich background.
Lila: are you saying I look poor?
Kagami: no, but my mother trained me to watch for those who have money
Lila is annoyed. She calls Gabriel to get her invitation but he ignores her. Ugh! One way or another she is getting to that party.
But wait, wasn’t Zoe going to the movies with Marinette? As the daughter of style queen, she is sure to have an invitation.
Sure enough, Zoe doesn’t mind giving her invitation to Lila, who says she lost her own and Gabriel is too busy to bother.
At the party, Lila is all for schmoozing with the guests. She would have preferred the adults but the party was clearly divided between adults and kids.
To Lila’s dismay, her own introduction as the face of Gabriel and the daughter of an ambassador wasn’t impressive enough for these people. It wasn’t until she spun her usual lies of knowing Jagged Stone and Prince Ali that she actually got anywhere. (And even then the snobs were not impressed with her charity work, just her connections)
Another guest overheard and walked over. “Excuse me, is it true you worked with Prince Ali? I’m a fan of his work. Might I know your name, please?”
Lila smirked. “Lila Rossi. I worked with Ali on multiple projects and parties.”
The stranger unmasked himself. “I am Prince Ali of Achu, and I have never met you before in my life.” He paged his chaperone.
Soraya walked over. “What is going on here?”
Ali gestured to Lila. “I believe we do have a party crasher.”
Another guest called for security in a loud voice, drawing attention from the rest of the room.
The security drones analysed Lila’s mask and announced it belonged to Zoe Lee.
Chloe pushed her way over and gaped. “Lilo, what are you doing here?” (This is not a typo. Chloe actually called Lila Lilo during Confrontation)
Lila gritted her teeth. “Your sister lent me her invitation when I lost mine. As for this lying accusation, I wasn’t referring to Prince Ali, but another one from Egypt.”
Except the guests she had been trying to impress called her out on her lies.
Guest: isn’t she the alliance Lila?
Lila exhaled in relief. Perhaps her fame could still save her.
Soraya scowled at Gabriel. “You have made a disappointing choice, Gabriel.”
Guest: what a wannabe. I am so changing my alliance avatar.
Seeing the crowd murmuring in front and the adults whispering behind, Gabriel addressed the situation at hand. “I am aware of Lila’s behavior, that was why I had planned to announce at my diamond dance that Kagami would be taking her place.” Tomoe subtly activated the screens showing the new changes, simultaneously having all alliance rings updated.
Lila’s jaw dropped. Her fame gone, just like that. She was tempted to expose Gabriel for hiring her to spy on his son but she doubt it would change much in the face of all these snobs.
Soraya glared at Lila. “Whatever other claims you have made about Prince Ali, we will find out. Prepare yourself for a lawsuit.”
Surrounded by hostile faces, Lila looked for friendly faces.
Chloe wasn’t going to stand up for her.
Kagami was shocked at Lila’s appearance and the revelation that she was a liar.
Felix already knew Lila was a spy and was fine with her current predicament.
Gabriel just fired her. “Escort the Miss wearing Zoe Lee’s mask out of my party.”
Lila was practically boxed in by 4 drones. Chloe snapped a photo because it was kind of funny
Meanwhile as Kagami protested having their avatars be in a romantic relationship, Felix revealed himself.
Cue Canon ending
Now, Rose received word from Ali asking what she knew about Lila. She was shocked that her friend was a liar and that Marinette was telling the truth. Did this mean that Marinette was indeed framed?
Rose calls Marinette to apologize and suggest that they tell Miss Bustier. However Marinette tells Rose that both teacher and principal know the truth. However Lila used the same reason Rose kept her illness a secret to keep them from telling the class.
Rose: this can’t be how it ends. Ali will expose Lila in public, it will be on the news, she can’t hide it then.
Indeed, Lila knew she couldn’t. So it was time to become Cerise once again and abandon Lila.
But Monarch has not seen the last of her. Neither has Prince Ali.
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skolworthy · 1 year
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Time Knows No Bounds (A series)
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Hello, this is the first part of my brand new series Time Knows No Bounds. I am not entirely sure, how long this series may end up being, but I will say that I am bound and determined to be writing it for the long haul.
There are simply not enough Ragnar fanfics out there, and I know that I cannot be the only one that is completely enamored by him. I have never written for Ragnar Lothbrok, so I hope that I am able to portray him well enough for everyone's liking. So please, sit back, grab an ale (or whatever tickles your taste buds) and enjoy.
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Warnings: None in this first segment
Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.
Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.
Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.
Summary: Of all of the places that you had expected to move to, Denmark was near the bottom of that list. Yet here you were, eight years later. It was your love of Norse history and mythology that brought you to the area in the first place, completing your education of those subjects in Copenhagen. You then took a full time job as assistant curator for one of the smaller and less well known museums just outside the capital. Many had asked why you simply did not take a job in the capital in one of their famous museums, but the fact that they seemed to be in it more for the profit than actual knowledge and history, deterred you. However, when the main museum contacted your boss about a potential gold mine of a dig sight, you jumped at the chance to aid in this archaeological adventure. Never in your wildest dreams, did you think that you would unearth something this spectacular.
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At first glimpse, Hvide Klint offered little hope of bringing about the excavation discovery of a lifetime, but something told you that this was it. This place...there was something about it that spoke to you and sent chills running up and down your spine and goosebumps to rise upon your flesh. While all your team had managed to find on the first day was a few broken pieces of pottery and the random spear head, you knew that this was just the beginning. There was something greater out there and you were going to find it. Your coworkers had left for the day, they were done searching for what they deemed was not there, but you opted to stay behind and continue to look. There was a train station that was not too far from here that you could easily take back home, albeit there would be many stops along the way, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that you had this place all to yourself, which is how you liked it. Being one with the site, finding things that others may have missed and just...enjoying the feeling that you were in a place of such historical importance. You watched as they left and then turned back around and began to walk down the shoreline, your boots sinking down into the wet sand a bit as you walked, until you finally came to an area that had seemed to almost call to you from the moment you arrived. There was a stone pillar that jutted out of the ground, obviously it had been placed there some time ago, it was worn from the weather and from the fjord. The others had shrugged it off as just an old mile marker, not wanting to stay in the cooler autumn weather a moment longer. Your eyes scanned over the ancient looking stone, taking in every crack and discoloration and then your eyes moved to the base where you noticed something sticking partially up out of the sand. Leaning down, your fingers brushed the sand away from it, revealing that it was a part of a blade, but from what, you were not sure yet. Gently you picked it up and then you gasped when the rest of it came up from under the sand, seeing that it had been the blade of an ax. Not just any ax either, but you could tell from the carvings along the handle and a bit on the blade, that it was a viking ax. Yet, it looked as if it had not aged a day? Clearly this must have been something someone had made recently, for there was no way that it would have been in this condition if it were an artifact from the viking era.
The sound of thunder brought your attention upward toward the sky, where once it had been a clear bright blue sky overhead, now there were dark clouds swirling above you. Literally, above you. It seemed as if those clouds were swirling around the pillar itself and for a moment you thought you could hear a faint voice speaking over the sudden wind that was also swirling around you. You stood up, still holding onto the ax in your hand and then you gasped when the wind suddenly propelled you forward some, causing you to stretch out your free hand and place it against the pillar in an effort to catch yourself. A moment later, a crack of lightning filled the air and you looked up in time to see it strike against the top of the pillar. You shrieked as suddenly you were knocked backward a few feet, losing your balance and falling upon your rear end as that bolt of lightning disappeared, along with the freak storm entirely. The sun was shining, the clouds were gone and there was nothing but the sound of calm waves lapping against the shore as you leaned up with your hands behind you, one of them still clutching the ax handle. What had just happened? You were about to stand up when you noticed something stir that was on the ground on the opposite side of the pillar from where you were, seeing after a moment of thought, that it was a man. He too was on his rump in the sand, looking at the pillar in bewilderment before he looked around the area and then his eyes finally landed upon you. Even from the distance between the two of you, you could tell that his eyes were the brightest shade of blue that you had ever seen, and as cliché as it sounded: it were almost as if they could look into your soul. He stared at you silently for a moment, before he pushed himself up to his knees and then finally to his feet, his eyes scanning the area curiously, though flicking back to you now and then as well.
You leaned up a bit as you watched him curiously, wondering where he had come from so quickly, and without you noticing him approaching. Had he seen the random storm brewing around, seen you standing there and he had hurried over to try and move you away? Why else would he be there, when he had not been there before? The man moved closer to the pillar, reaching out with his hand to touch it only to yank it back quickly, sucking in a breath between his teeth as if he had been burned. He stared at his hand and then at the pillar curiously and then his eyes slowly moved over to you where he then tilted his head a bit to the side. His gaze drank you in, moving from your feet all of the way up your body until his eyes met yours once again and you gave a slight shudder from the chills this had sent through you. When his eyes caught sight of the ax in your hand his eyebrows furrowed together and he took a step forward, pointing at you. “Where did you get that? That is mine.” he said as he took a few more steps forward, his eyes now moving to the ax in your hand. The language that he was speaking was something familiar to you, and yet you also could not place it. At first you could have sworn that it sounded like Old Norse, but it had been awhile since you studied that language. Suddenly he thrust his hand forward, his palm up as he gestured to the ax in your hand. “Give it to me.” You tossed the ax away from you gently, sending it to the sand next to his feet, your eyes on his without wavering as he then knelt down and picked it up, brushing the sand off and inspecting it before he placed it on his hip in a loop on his belt…wait...what was he wearing? Your eyes scanned over him slowly, taking in the boots and the leather pants, the simple belt that hung loose around his hips, along with another wider belt that was around his waist that had a weaved pattern around it and then the long dark brown tunic that fit him well. Your eyes then moved up to his beard, short, yet still unkempt and then the smooth skin of his scalp until it came to the top where long braids were pulled back and cascaded down behind his head, coming to a stop between his shoulder blades. When he turned his head, you noticed tattoos that ran behind his ear and down the back of his skull. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that this guy had walked out of a Viking Renaissance fair.
He must have noticed that you were looking at him so intently, for a slight smirk appeared on his lips as he watched you, and then, he unashamedly did the same to you. His eyes starting at your feet, though as they slowly took in your clothing, he gradually moved closer, his head tilting this way and that, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows knitting together as he did. Instinctively you began to scoot back as you were seated upon the sand, each step he took, you would move back until suddenly he moved quickly and knelt down to where he was hovering over you slightly. You took in a sharp breath, your eyes widening at this sudden closeness as you watched his eyes roam over your body before they came to your face, moving from your chin to your lips, then the freckles that dotted your cheeks and finally to your eyes where he gazed at you intently, yet there was a curiousness in that gaze. The sound of an airplane caught his attention and his eyes glanced around, his head tilting to try and pinpoint which direction the noise was coming from and it wasn’t until he glanced upward for a moment that he paused and stared at the plane as it went by over your heads. He tilted his head back more, slowly bringing himself up to a standing position as he watched it, his face contorted in utter confusion. When the plane had disappeared from sight, the sound still present, he began to very slowly turn and look around the area, the curiosity falling from it and replacing with disbelief, maybe even fear? He stopped when he saw the building that was farther down the shore, then he noted the skyline of buildings past that along the treeline and finally he looked down at you. ”Where am I?” he said softly at first, but you were too preoccupied with trying to figure out what was happening to hear him. “Where am I?” he said a bit louder, taking a step toward you as you sat upon the ground looking up at him. That simple phrase you were able to decipher and you swallowed hard before opening your mouth, which you found had gone dry. “H-Hvide Klint. F-Frederiksværk.” you managed to stutter out.
He narrowed his eyes at you, tilting his head, clearly not understanding what you had just said. Then he put his hands on the top of his head and gripped his hair with his fingers and let out an aggravated grunt before he walked over to the pillar, going up to it and smacking it with his hand suddenly. “This is not Kattegat.” he said before smacking it again with his palm and then he circled it, looking the pillar up and down before he looked at you and pointed at the pillar. “How is this here, but my home is not?” You stared at him a moment and then you finally began to get up to your feet, brushing the sand from your palms as you watched him, your body poised to run should he come at you once again like he had before. “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time understanding you.” The man looked at you, his eyes narrowing a bit before he lifted his chin a little, his eyes flicking up and down your body once again, which you couldn’t tell if it were in an insulting manner or if it were to take in your figure. “You are Saxon?” this time...he spoke in decent English. You stared at him silently for a moment before you brought your hands up and hugged them around your torso. He pointed at you. “English?” “In a sense.” was all that you were able to say. Being from the Midwest in America, honestly would probably go over this man’s head. Either he was deranged, or there was something else at work here. Something that was beginning to make your skin prickle with intrigue. “What is your name?” you said calmly and slowly, so that he may understand better. He stared at you silently before he took a few steps toward you, bringing himself to be within a few inches from you, which you noted now (considering earlier) that he had no regard for personal space. Either an intimidation tactic or just flat out cockiness. “Ragnar Lothbrok.” Upon hearing that name, you were hit with the knowledge you had gained over the years of living in Denmark, the legend of Ragnar Lothbrok being one of your favorite things to study and delve further into. You had spent quite a bit of time in school here, devoting your studies to that of the vikings, especially when it came to the tales of the Lothbrok clan.
Your eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area, almost half expecting a hidden camera crew to be hiding somewhere, having just helped some of your colleagues and friends pull quite the prank on you. There was no one around, not unless you counted the fishing boat that was off in the distance, though you doubted they would be getting very good camera shots from there if this was indeed a prank. Yet, if this was not some sort of ruse, then what was happening right now? This man had seemingly (to you anyway) appeared out of nowhere, the moment you had been knocked back by the force of that lightning hitting the pillar, when he had not been anywhere within sight, prior to that. Your feet moved you around him, bringing you to the pillar in question and you reached up, tentatively tracing your fingers over some runes that you had not noticed before. They were etched deep, but they were also worn from the weather and from what you could make of the symbols, it had something to do with ‘time’. Lost in time? Far through time? Ugh, it was too worn for you to tell at this moment. You quickly reached down into the pocket of your cardigan and pulled out your notebook, ripping a piece of paper from it and then brought out your pencil. Holding the paper against the pillar, you used the lead of the pencil to scratch against the underlying etching of the runes, bringing to light what you were unable to see. Staring down at the symbols you had managed to capture with the lead, you wracked your brain for what it might say when you jumped suddenly at the fact that this ‘Ragnar’ was beside you, and close, once again. He had come up somewhat behind you, his face leaning over your shoulder some to see what you were holding and his breath you could feel against your cheekbone slightly as he spoke. “Time knows no bounds.” he said softly. Clearly, he was able to read this. And you jumped for joy inwardly that you at least were correct in knowing it had said something about ‘time’. “My great grandfather carved this after losing his first wife, knowing that one day they would be reunited in Valhalla.” You lifted your gaze from the paper in your hand and looked at the worn carvings upon the pillar for a moment, before you turned your head to the side and your eyes widened, having forgotten how close he was standing. The smell of fresh pine and rich soil wafted up to your nose. “I never received your name.” He said in a soft tone, his eyes daring to move across your facial features, resting on your lips a moment before going back to your eyes. You took a step back quickly, trying to create some space between you and for the love...he moved with you as if anticipating you would do this, keeping that space to its same bare minimum. The cockiness and unashamed way that he kept looking at you, was enough to bring color to your cheeks as you looked at him. “Y/N.”
“Y/N...” he repeated your name and you would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t give you chills when hearing it fall from his lips. He studied your face once again and then he gave a small smirk, showing off his white teeth and then he took a step back from you, bringing his hands together in front of him where he clasped them together as he continued to look down at you. “I say again, y/n...where am I?” he said, that smirk upon his lips still. He gave a soft sigh as his eyes moved around the area again. “Or perhaps...I should say 'when'?” This brought your stomach to tighten a little. He was registering the fact that this might not be his home, and not just that, his time period. If this were the case...if he was really Ragnar Lothbrok, then something insane, mysterious and magical had brought him through time, to this moment and place. Your eyes moved to the paper in your hand once more. The words ‘time knows no bounds’ echoing around inside your head before lifting to look up at him. “Denmark. It is the year, 2022.” you said quietly, watching his reaction. Either he had a great poker face, or this did not surprise him as much as it should have, for he gave no indication of emotion as he looked at you once you had admitted the year. He looked down at his hands that were clasped and he gave a slight nod, before keeping his face turned downward, but lifting those blue eyes of his to meet yours again. “Then my home is long gone.” he said, giving a sigh through his nose. He then moved over to the pillar and placed his hand upon it, as if he were expecting it to transport him once again, home. Like the silly little optimistic girl you were, you had half wondered if it would work, but there he continued to stand for many a moment before he let his hand fall down to his side limply. You hesitated and then moved closer to the pillar, getting close to it with your face so that you could study it better, in case anything might have been missed. You then came around to the side that he had been close to when he ‘arrived’ and you noted there was more runes there only different from what had been on your side. “What does this say?” you asked, bringing your finger to point just under the first symbol. Ragnar took a step closer and squinted, lifting his hand up to run his fingers along the engraving, your body tingling when his fingers lightly brushed over yours a moment. “A year and a day shall send you back on your way.” he said as he removed his hand from the pillar and rested it upon the blade of the ax that was holstered at his hip.
“A year and a day?” you said, repeating it under your breath. “Oh fuck, does that mean whatever happened...wont happen again for another year and a day?” Ragnar’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead a bit when you cursed, but there was a glimmer in his eye and the corner of his mouth went up slightly as he looked at you. He then reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he looked at the runes on the pillar. “My great grandfather enjoyed his riddles...and his rhymes. Yet, it was exactly a year and a day before he too, entered Valhalla." You jumped when suddenly your phone began to ring and you nearly dropped the paper in your hands as you fumbled in your other pocket to try and get to it. Ragnar was highly confused by the sudden sound, but he watched with interest when you pulled out your phone and then hit the answer button, bringing it up to your ear. It was one of your colleagues, Klaus. "Hey, just wanted to let you know that we made it back. You still at the site, or did you wise up to the fact there's nothing there and leave?" You cleared your throat as Ragnar came closer to you, his head tilted as he looked at the phone next to you head as you then began to talk into it. "Oh you know me, stubborn as a mule. So naturally, I am still looking around." "Oh for Christ's sake, y/n." You could hear him sigh and your eyes widened when Ragnar reached for your hand and brought the phone forward, pressing his ear against it curiously, his eyebrows shooting up when you heard Klaus's voice ask if you had found anything. You quickly took Ragnar's wrist and brought the phone back to your ear. "No, nothing. I'll be heading back soon."
You still had hold of his wrist as you continued to talk to Klaus, though when you suddenly felt his fingertip gently touch the side of your face, you raised an eyebrow at him. Ragnar just smirked as he watched you and did it again, which caused you to shrink back some, though trying to keep your ear against the phone that he was still holding onto. Clearly this man had no qualms when it came to making someone feel awkward, unless this was his way of flirting? Regardless, your face was flushing and you quickly pried the phone from his hand, using your free one to gently swat his fingers away as you took a step back, making him smirk more. Here he was, in a different time period and yet he was getting such enjoyment of making you feel uncomfortable. "Just be careful, there are weirdos out there." Klaus said, which made your gaze flick to Ragnar's. "You know I can handle myself pretty well." Ragnar's eyebrow raised. "I'll send you a text when I'm home." At that, he hung up and you lowered the phone and before you could slip it back into your pocket, Ragnar's hand caught your wrist and he gazed down at the device in your hand. "How does it talk? Magic?" You gave a snort and shook your head as he continued to look at the phone in your hand. Gently you pulled your arm back toward you and unlocked it, bringing about your home screen which showed a picture of you and your friends on your birthday, smiling and laughing. He looked at it intently, looking from your face in the picture, to your actual face in front of him. You could tell that he was highly confused. "It's called a 'phone'. You can use it to talk to people, keep in touch with loved ones that are far away. Among a lot of other things." You then switched on the camera and held it up, looking at him through the screen and put a smile on your face. "Say cheese." He stared at you. "Why?" "It means to smile." He hesitated and then gave that smirk of his and you snapped a picture, turning the phone around to face him after.
Ragnar stared at it, his eyebrows knitted together as he looked at the picture of himself, taking your wrist and bringing the phone closer to his face, his eyes looking at it curiously. You then turned to where your back was facing him and you held the phone up in front of you, flipping the camera around to where you could see both of you on the screen, taking a short video of you waving and him just standing there behind you, mesmerized. You took in a long breath and then turned to face him, pursing your lips in thought before your eyes then moved to the pillar that was behind him. "I need to do more research on this. You said your great grandfather placed this pillar here? What was his name?" He told you and you, to the best of your ability, jotted it down on the piece of paper you had used to copy the runes on. "Perhaps we can get you home faster than a year and a day, if we figure out more about this thing and what happened and why it happened." He looked at you as you stared at the pillar with curiosity and he gave a small smile. "It is the will of Odin that I am here." You gave a small chuckle. "Well gee thanks, Odin, now I have to figure out what to do with you." you said as you looked at him. To be honest, why should you even get involved in this? What if it were all some sort of joke? Though on the inside, you knew that it wasn't. This was something real, and it was something fascinating and you wanted desperately to get to the bottom of it. You lifted your phone up once again and sent for a taxi before looking back at Ragnar. "It will probably be best for you to come back home with me, until I can get more answers." He gave that damn smirk of his as he looked at you and then nodded his head. "Is it a far walk?" You grinned and nodded your head. "Yes, quite far. But we will not be walking." He followed after you as you walked back up the hill to where you and your coworkers had parked earlier and then kept going until you came upon the road. Your phone dinged and you saw a message from the nearest taxi driver, stating that they were driving down the road and wanted to know where to look for you. You messaged them back and within a few moments, a car came down the road toward you, pulling off onto the side of the road for you to get in. Ragnar backed up a bit, putting his hand upon the ax at his hip, eyeing the large black thing that had just stopped before you and you gave a smirk. "It's okay. This will be taking us to the train station." He just stared between you and the car and you held your hand out to him. "Do you trust me?"
Ragnar looked at you, his hand still on the ax and then noticed that there was a person inside the big black thing and his eyebrow raised a bit, before he looked back at you. "I do not trust easily." "Yeah, well...I can just leave you here then?" you said as you lowered your hand and opened the back door to the car and moved to slide in. "Wait." He said, taking a step forward. "At least explain what this is." he said, gesturing to the car with his free hand. "It's called a car. Think of it like a carriage or cart, but without the horses. It will take us where we need to go." He looked at it once again, his eye landing on the very confused and also irritated that this was taking so long, person inside. "Car." he said under his breath, before he gave a nod and then removed his hand from the ax and he moved to where you were, watching as you slid in and across the seat and then gestured to the seat beside you for him to take. He hesitated and then finally sat down, his eyes peering about the inside of the car before glancing at you. "Where to?" the driver said. "Train station, please." you said as you then leaned over to Ragnar and took the seat belt and wrapped it around him, having to move the ax to buckle it. He stared at you curiously and you gave a smile. "Keeps you safe." you said before giving the belt across his chest a pat and then you did the same for yourself, giggling when as the car then moved forward, Ragnar's hands moved to the seat beside his legs and gripped hard, his eyes widening. "Just wait until you are on the train. It goes even faster." you said, smiling at him when his eyebrows rose a bit as he looked at you. Once the car had been moving for some time, you saw that his body finally relaxed and you watched as he gazed out of the window as an entirely different world than the one he knew, passed by.
*Gif does not belong to me, credit goes to its lovely creator: vikings-ragnar
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thedirtygridd · 1 year
Text
CHEATING WITH GEORGE RUSSELL…
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WARNINGS : 18+ , strong sexual content, fictional scenarios
(Part of this was requested and I’ve created a fictional idea to make it even wilder)
Summary - You are cheating with George Russell, despite you both being in a relationship with other people. He invites you over to his hotel room, after his sweaty workout, where he tries a new (fictional) “cum enhancement” pill…
“I can’t wait for later baby” he texted. You went straight onto the chat, you always replied to him straight away. In your phone, he was under the name of “G”. Nobody would be able to work out who it was, especially your boyfriend. He didn’t know about it. He could never know about you and G.
“I can’t wait either…” you responded, biting your lip in anticipation as you thought about what may happen.
Before you could think, he was typing again.
“I’m in the gym training for the 2023 season until 7pm, so I’ll meet you at the room afterwards. Wear what I got you…”
You couldn’t wait. You got yourself dressed in the lingerie that your secret lover had bought you. Black laced lingerie, with fishnet tights exposing your shiny, tanned legs. You had recently put on fake tan for him, because you knew how much he liked it. And you had painted your finger and toe nails in his favourite colour.
Time passed and you arrived at the hotel you had agreed to meet. It was out of town and your boyfriend thought you were away with the girls for the weekend. Little did he know…you were meeting up with George Russell.
You had been thinking about him all day, thinking about his body, his sexiness, everything about him.
You arrived at the hotel gym he was training at, and peeked your head around the door. The gym was quiet, only a handful of men working out. You gazed around the room…And then you spotted him. He was lifting weights, his face red, you could see how sweaty he was even from a distance. You licked your lips at the sight of him working out.
He then got up and started walking towards the door, this is when he spotted you. You had put a tight black dress over the top of your lingerie, to disguise your look, and you wore wedged shoes. He continued to walk towards you, while smirking and checking you out. He placed his sweat soaked towel around his neck.
“Hey baby” he said quietly as you turned to walk with him towards the elevator.
The first thing you asked was “where’s Carmen?” (Georges girlfriend)
“She’s not here. Don’t worry, nobody knows as always. It’s just us. “
You both got into the elevator and the doors closed. George wrapped his veiny arms around you, and started to kiss you. You placed your hand behind his neck, surprised at how slimy and sweaty he was. You took your time to smother your hand in it, as your tongues found each other in your mouths.
At this point you heard a “DING!” As you arrived at your floor. It was the penthouse suite. You walked in and admired the view out of the large glass windows, which offered a panoramic view of London on a winters night.
“You gonna do what we said?” George asked suspiciously as he continued to check you out.
You nodded while lowering your dress, exposing your tight lingerie to him.
“Fuck yeah. So hot” he said as he admired the view.
“Have you taken those tablets?” You asked
“Yes I have…I hope they work”
The tablets in question were brand new, he had never tried them before, and they hadn’t been released to the public yet. George had his ways though, and managed to get some.
The tablets would create an unimaginable amount of cum to shoot out of George, and allow him to orgasm as many times as he wanted , and on command as he desired, so long as it was in the time limit. The limit was one hour.
“Come on, let’s get started then” said George as he guided you to the bathroom. You slowly placed yourself into the large bathtub , as George stood beside you. He slipped off his trainers and socks and exposed his huge masculine feet. You could smell the sweat on them already. Something about them turned you on, maybe because he would use them to drive his f1 car, or maybe it was just because of the sheer size of them. So manly. He slipped off his other clothes too, leaving him fully naked. His abs glistened in the light, you could see sweat tricking down them. His bushy armpits leaking out his sweaty musk.
He grabbed hold of his already hard cock, and started stroking it. You noticed his index finger smothering pre cum around his tip.
“Touch yourself and get ready” he demanded.
And so you started touching yourself. Your fingers brushed in and over your wet lips. The anticipation of what was about to happen filled you both with raw animalistic excitement. This was something a normal person could not do, and we were about to try it.
As George tugged on his juicy cock, he mentioned “ you know…mhm” he interrupted himself as a pulse of pleasure hit him as he jerked off. “…you know carmen doesn’t like my cum, she doesn’t let me do anything with it…so fucking boring”
You replied with “I fucking love it, and I want you to fill this whole tub up for me baby”
As you said it, you felt yourself start to orgasm , just as George let out his first load. It came out of his tip with such a force, it caused you to fall backwards, onto your back. He didn’t stop. He continued to jerk as you noticed his eyes roll into the back of his head, the cum kept coming. It completely covered you, almost like turning the tap on, and it didn’t stop. The bath was starting to fill up with his very own hot, milky fluid.
Before you knew it, your body was completely submerged, only your head was above the deep layer of cum. His first Cumshot lasted over 5 minutes, probably the longest male orgasm ever. The pills were working.
George stopped jerking his cock and placed himself into the bath with you. He leant over you and started making out, you smothered your hands over his abs, and covered them with his own fresh milk. The smell was so good. You had always enjoyed the musky smell of George’s cum, and now you could admire the smell of a while bath tub.
Your body’s both felt so slimy as they glide over each other. You bodies both fully submerged in the warm, thick fluid.
George slipped his cock inside you and started fucking you hard. You felt cum slip in and out at the same time as his hard cock. This was by far the dirtiest thing you had ever done. Also the best.
While he fucked you , you felt his hands smothering your body. He smothered cum around your face and into your mouth.
As he did, you heard him groan as he unleashed another mighty wave of cum. This time inside you. You felt yourself instantly fill up. You overflowed in no time, but he carried on. You felt him continue to fill you up.
“Fuck G…stop…mhm….ugh….I feel like I’m gonna…”
Before you could finish you erupted with your own orgasm. The bath started overflowing. You heard cum splatter all over the floor. You both grabbed hold of one another, you dug your nails into his back, but struggled to find the grip.
You both moaned so loudly, you felt like the whole hotel may hear you. Maybe the whole of London. His cum continued to overflow, covering the bathroom floor at this point.
The bath was completely full of his milk. You were completely full as well. He forced his cum covered fingers into your mouth and made you lick on it. You sucked at his fingers as he did it. The taste , the feeling of it all over you, the manly smell…everything about it was so sexy.
This is when George grabbed your head and pushed you under. He submerged you fully inside his cum, and then when he brought you out again he started licking at your face. Even he was enjoying the taste of his own produce.
You were both so horny. So wild…
This is when you heard a noise from behind the door…you both immediately stopped.
“George? George are you in there?” A female voice asked
The door slowly started to creep open as you both stared and waited for who would reveal themselves.
“Fuck” said George….
To be continued.
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lumiolivierlithium · 2 months
Text
So is the Life of a Pirate (1/?)
Series: One Piece
Chapter: 1/?
Word Count: 5019
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Sanji x OC (Reader)
A dalliance six years ago has a funny way of catching up to Sanji when the Straw Hats stop to restock the ship.
a/n: I'm not sure how often I'm going to update this, but I have 4-5 chapters already done, so do what you will with that information. Depends on how well this one does, I guess.
“Come on, Mama!” a little boy cried at his mother’s knee.  His big, blue eyes staring up at her.  His soft, round cheeks cradled in her palm.  His light blonde hair falling in his face, “Please?  They don’t believe me.”
“Who doesn’t believe you, Ash?” his mother asked.  Cordelia was nineteen when she arrived to her island of Beniville Bay.  It wasn’t an easy trip to her new home, but she wouldn’t have asked for it any other way.  Getting to Beniville Bay got her the sweet little angel at her knee.  But only a few years later, her son would be born.  Her world would be turned upside down.
“The other boys,” Ash took Cordelia by her hand and tried to drag her off.
“Ash, I’m working,” Cordelia giggled, holding her post at the tavern, “I’d love to entertain your friends, but if I’m going to do that, you’ll have to bring them here.”
“Ok!” Ash took that as all the permission he needed.  And he bolted from the tavern. 
“You got your hands full with that one, Cordelia,” the owner of the tavern sat at the end of the bar, her laughter deep and hoarse.
“I know I do,” Cordelia agreed, slumping over the bar, “But he’s my handful, Nora.”
“What’s he on about anyway?” Nora wondered, “He said something about how the other boys don’t believe him.”
“It’s the same story he begs for,” Cordelia sighed out, “When I was still out there.  Before I settled here.”
“And the argument could still be made you haven’t fully settled,” Nora pointed out, “You always look out to the sea.”
“Because it’s where I belong,” Cordelia confessed, “And in a perfect world, I’d go back to the sea.  But I can’t.  I got Ash to think about now.  I can’t just take him and bring him out to sea.  It’s much safer for him here.”
“I think it’s the other reason,” Nora smiled softly, “You’re waiting for him, aren’t you?”
“Him who?” Cordelia went back to wiping down the bar.  The sooner she could switch her train of thought, the better.
“You know damn well who I’m talking about, girl,” Nora gave her a little nudge, “I may be getting up there in years, but I know that look when I see it.  There’s someone you’re waiting for.  Isn’t there?  And that’s why you’re still here.  In case he ever comes back.”
“Waiting is pointless,” Cordelia wrung out her rag and threw it in the bucket under the bar, “I have other priorities that definitely take precedence over that.”
“Do you remember his name?” Nora nodded to the empty barstool next to her.
“Of course, I do,” Cordelia took her seat, “It was-”
“Mama!” Ash came barreling back into the tavern with two other boys behind him, “Tell them!  Tell them!”
“Ash,” Cordelia held her face in her hands, “Alright, boys.  I know I’m not getting out of this one.  Grab a seat.  I’ll tell you.”
“Ash said you knew pirates!”
“Yeah!  And that you were a pirate!”
“My dad said pirates are bad!”
“Alright, alright,” Cordelia settled them, “You wanted me to tell you my stories, didn’t you?  I can’t do that if you’re still running your mouths.”
“Yes, ma’am.” All three of them were dead silent and listening intently.
“Alright,” Cordelia began, “Now, there’s something you need to understand, boys.  There are bad pirates.  That is one hundred percent true.  Because there were some bad pirates that gave me this…”
Cordelia extended her arm and showed off a burn scar on her wrist.  It was no ordinary burn scar, though.  Ash put his fingers up to it, “What’s that, Mama?”
“It’s a brand, baby,” Cordelia went on, “I’m from a place called the Savinon Isles in the South Blue.  They were peaceful little islands.  And I loved it there.  I grew up there.  But when I was about sixteen, those islands were raided by pirates.  They took everything they could.  Berries, jewels, artifacts, map charts, anything they could get their hands on.  And they even took a few of the girls from my village.  Including me.  And they made sure we knew who they belonged to.  So, they burned that mark into my skin.”
“Did it hurt?” one of the boys asked.
“It was the worst pain I ever felt until Ash was born,” Cordelia admitted, “But I had to stay strong.  I couldn’t scream.  I couldn’t cry.  I couldn’t even change my facial expression.  I just had to wince through it.  And it was unbearable…Maybe this isn’t a good story to be telling you three.”
“Come on, Mama!” Ash pleaded.
“We can handle it, Miss Cordelia!”
“Yeah!  Honest!”
“What happened next?”
Cordelia did her best to ever forget what happened next.  She pretended like it never happened.  But those pirates did things that she would never fully be able to shake.  But that wasn’t the end of her story.  And she knew it.  A little smile crept across her face, “Well, those pirates didn’t know who they picked up on the Savinon Isles.  Because my home wasn’t the only one they ransacked.  Whenever they’d have me on deck, I would look everywhere for any possible escape routes.  Or so they thought.  What I was really doing was counting the crew.  There were fifteen men on that ship.  And there were easily double that of the girls they took.”
“They took other girls?”
“That’s not ok.”
“You’re right,” Cordelia agreed, “It’s not.  People aren’t meant to be cargo.  People are meant to be people.  They’re not supposed to be kept.  But when they’d all go to sleep at night, the other girls and I would talk.  And when we’d talk, we were planning our escape.  But it wasn’t enough for us to escape.  They would pay for their crimes.  And because it’s not like the Marines were going to do anything for us, we had to take those matters into our own hands.  They thought they had us completely broken of our spirits.  And they almost did have a few of them.  But their captain…I had a personal vendetta against him.”
“What’s a vendetta, Mama?” Ash cocked his head.
“It means he and I had problems,” Cordelia explained, “And that the only way they’d be solved was violence, bloodshed.  Trust me, Ash.  He definitely got everything he had coming his way.  But because he thought he had me broken, I didn’t get shackled anymore.  So, I let that go on for a couple nights.  Just so I could somewhat earn his trust.  But then…Then, I lost his trust.  And for a good reason.”
“What’d you do?”
“I radicalized those girls,” Cordelia jumped down from her barstool, “I took one of the crewmen’s swords and one of their guns.  I tiptoed into the captain’s cabin while he was sleeping.  I patted him down for any weapons he might have had on him and made sure I took any of the others away.  And I put that gun to his forehead and cocked it.  I was ready to pull the trigger and end him right then and there, but we were miles out in the ocean.  We needed to get to shore.  When he woke up and realized the predicament he was in and that all the other girls were in on it, too, he called the crew on deck.  And I ran that ship all the way to shore.”
“And what about the captain?  What’d you do to him?”
“What any good person would’ve done,” Cordelia shrugged, “I let him go.”
“WHAT?!”
“Mama,” Ash gasped, “After everything he did, after how much he hurt you, you just let him go?”
“I’m no killer, Ash,” Cordelia assured him, “I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t pull the trigger.  But he didn’t know that.  What I could do, though, was that the second I heard one of the girls call land, I had the original crew of the ship lined up at the plank and I watched each and every one of them jump into the water.  I’m not sure how many survived after that, but I know the captain sunk all the way to the bottom.  I made sure of that.  He had rocks in his pockets.  There’s no telling how many the sea claimed that night.  But the girls and I…Oh, did we celebrate that night.  And into the morning.  And into the next night.  And we were all miserable for a week after that.  We docked and restocked the ship before they were all reunited with their families.”
“But what about you, Mama?  Did you go home, too?”
Cordelia could feel a blow to the heart she didn’t need.  But she still pushed forward, “I didn’t have a home to go back to.  When my village was ransacked, they left it in flames.  So, I was on my own.  Those girls were the only family I had left.  But I was alright.  My notoriety for taking on an entire pirate crew didn’t go unnoticed.  I even got stopped by a Marine vessel.”
“The Marines stopped you?!”
“That’s right,” Cordelia nodded, “The Marines stopped me.  Because I didn’t change my jolly roger.  I needed other pirates to know my ship wasn’t to be messed with.  Because seeing his flags…Then, only seeing me on board…That sent a message.  And even the Marines realized that.  They boarded and searched what was now my ship because they didn’t believe me when I said I was the only one on it.  They told me the former captain had a bounty on his head.  I told them his head was at the bottom of the ocean for trafficking.  They told me it wasn’t my place to give his execution and I should’ve just collected the bounty.  But then, I showed them my brand.  And I looked that Marine captain in the eye and told him it was entirely my place to be his judge, jury, and executioner.  They left me alone after that.  And left me ten million berries for my efforts.  Ten million measly berries for my efforts.”
“Ten million berries can get a girl pretty far on the open sea,” Nora chimed in.
“And it did,” Cordelia sat back down, “That’s when I ended up here.  I made myself comfortable, kept food in my belly and a roof over my head.  And I didn’t trust a pirate after that.”
“But Mama,” Ash flopped over, “You always said we could trust pirates.”
“We can,” Cordelia nodded, “I didn’t say the story was over, did I?”
“You didn’t…”
“There are definitely bad pirates, boys,” Cordelia confirmed, a smile on her face, “That much is true.  But where there are bad pirates, there are also good ones.  There are very good pirates in this world.  And I think I knew the best of the best.”
“What were they called, Miss Cordelia?”
Cordelia couldn’t help it.  Her heart turned into a puddle.  Because only one pirate crew came to mind, “The Straw Hat Pirates.  And I knew all of them.  Although, there were only five when we met.”
“Who were they?”
“Well,” Cordelia laughed to herself, “They were…All something.  They all had their own things going on.  There was Zoro, their swordsman.  He was lucky if he could find his shoes.  But he’d probably get lost finding his way back.  I could’ve given him a compass and a map and he wouldn’t be able to find the bathroom ten feet away.  I also wouldn’t trust him with a bottle of sake.  It’d be gone by morning.  And yet, you could throw a coconut in the air in one piece and by the time it was down on the ground, it’d be cut in eighths.  You don’t take Zoro’s swords away from him.  He won’t hesitate to run someone through if they deserve it.  And there was Usopp.  I have yet to meet someone who’s a better shot than Usopp.  You want someone who could tell a story?  Have Usopp tell you a story.  Because you won’t get a better one.  And there was Nami, their navigator.  I told her about what happened to me on my old ship.  And she told me what happened to her with the last pirate crew she was part of.  We bonded that night.  But the girl had money on her mind.  And I can’t blame her.  And then…Then, there was their captain.”
“Was he like the other captain?” Ash worried, cuddling closer to his mother’s side.
“Oh, no, no, no, sweetheart,” Cordelia could hardly hold herself together, stifling her laughter, “The Straw Hat captain couldn’t have been further from that.  I remember their captain.  He was the worst of all of them.  In fact…Hold on.”
Cordelia went over to the bulletin board they kept in the tavern.  Wanted posters covered it like wallpaper.  Every so often, a bounty hunter would come in and take one, but she knew there had to be one on there.  The one wanted poster she was looking for.  Nora glanced over her shoulder, “Who are you looking for, Cordelia?”
“Hang on…” Cordelia kept scanning them.  Only to find an all too familiar grin sticking out from under one of them.  And she grabbed that wanted poster.  And she slapped it on a nearby table, “I knew I’d find him up there.  That’s him.  Monkey D. Luffy.  I can still hear him introduce himself in my head.  That’s something you can never shake.  My name is Monkey D. Luffy and I’m going to be king of the pirates!  And you know what, boys?  I think he will one day.”
“What makes you say that, Miss Cordelia?”
“Because,” Cordelia took the wanted poster back and rehung it, “He ate all his vegetables.”
“Really?”
“God no,” Cordelia laughed, “I’ve never met someone more carnivorous in my life.  Luffy wouldn’t hurt a fly.  Unless someone hurt one of his friends.  That’s when things would get messy.  Then again, I’ve heard stories about Luffy through the grapevine.  He’d overthrow entire governments if he’s not kept in check.  And with the rest of his crew, it’d be a disaster.  But he had a good heart.  There’s no doubting that.  That’s what made him one of the good pirates.”
“Who’s the other one?” Ash asked.
“What?” Cordelia looked at him strangely, “What do you mean, the other one?  I told you about the whole crew.”
“No, you didn’t,” he shook his head, “You said there were five.  You talked about Zoro, then Usopp, then Nami, then Luffy.  That’s four, Mama.  What about the other one?”
“Oh,” Cordelia let out a little sigh as memories of her encounter with the Straw Hat Pirates flooded her thoughts, “That other one.  Their cook…Their cook was…special.”
“What was his name?” Ash’s eyes only got bigger.  And in those eyes, Cordelia saw…everything.
“Alright, boys,” Cordelia shook it off, “You’ve heard enough.  I’m sure your mothers are looking for you.  And I’m not going to have it be my responsibility when they find you in a place like this.  Ash has an excuse, but you two don’t.”
“Aww…”
“Bye, Miss Cordelia!” And just like that, the boys took off.
“Mama?” Ash knew there was something not right with her.  All they had in life was each other.  The slightest change in Cordelia’s demeanor wouldn’t go unnoticed, “Why wouldn’t you tell us about the other pirate?”
“Don’t worry about it, Ash,” Cordelia brushed him off, “Go in the back and wash up.  I’ll get dinner going for the three of us.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you, Cordelia,” Nora awed, “Thank you.”
“Sure,” Cordelia needed to get her head back on right.  And she could always find her peace in a kitchen. 
But once Ash was in the back, Nora stopped Cordelia from putting her apron on, “You know you’re going to have to tell him some day.”
And with those few words, Cordelia’s heart sank to the floor, “I know.  But it’s not going to be easy, Nora.”
“I know,” Nora took her hand, “But it’s better than lying to the boy.  One day, he’s going to look at the wanted posters and he’s going to see a familiar face.”
“I don’t want to talk about it now,” Cordelia snapped a bit, “And we’re not going to talk about it now.  We’ll just…Let this go.  Just for now.”
“Alright,” Nora dropped it, “But Cordelia…I remember when those Straw Hat Pirates came to town.  They came through this very tavern.”
“I know,” Cordelia felt the heat rising in her cheeks, “How else would I have met them?  I’m just glad Luffy didn’t eat us out of house and home.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make dinner and then, I’m going to take my son home and tuck him into bed.”
“Fine by me.”
Dinner was quiet.  Dinner was a little uncomfortable.  Every time Cordelia looked over at Ash, she could feel another crack splintering off in her heart.  And how the inevitability would soon be upon her.  As much as it’d pain her.  But once the plates were cleared and cleaned, Cordelia brought Ash back to their cozy, two bedroom house just off the square. 
The moment his head hit the pillows, Ash was sleeping like a baby.  However, sleep wouldn’t come as easily for his mother.  Cordelia watched out the window, her stomach in knots and her heart in dire straits.  It wasn’t until she closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep that the ache would stop. 
The next morning, Cordelia was awake bright and early.  And Ash still slept.  She refused to leave him home by himself.  That meant him being lonely.  Cordelia had to go to the market for Nora, so she only had one option.  Carefully, she slipped into Ash’s bedroom and she put a hand on his shoulder.
“Ash…” Cordelia nudged him, “Asher Grey…You need to wake up, baby.  We have places to be.”
Those big, beautiful eyes slowly opened, sparkling in the morning sun, “Where do we have to go, Mama?”
“We need to go take care of some errands in town for Ms. Nora,” Cordelia helped him out of bed, “Why don’t we get you clean and dressed, ok?”
“Ok,” Ash fell into his mother’s shoulder, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.  But he knew better.  Slowly, but surely, he pulled himself together and grabbed some clothes out of the trunk at the foot of his bed, “Are these ok, Mama?”
“They’re just fine with me,” Cordelia allowed, “I’m going to go run the water.”
“Ok.”
As Cordelia got Ash all cleaned up (and then, herself), he took her hand and the two went to the market.  All the fresh produce sat nicely in their individual stalls, bright and beautiful.  It wasn’t going to be much.  Only a few vegetables and some eggs for the tavern.  Nora had her meat supplier coming later that afternoon, so it wasn’t like Cordelia needed to pick that up.  However, there was something bright orange that caught Cordelia’s attention.  But it couldn’t have been, she thought to herself. 
Until that bright orange turned her direction, the face of a young woman revealing itself.  And the woman’s eyes grew as they met hers, “Cordelia?”
“Mama,” Ash looked up at her in confusion, “Who’s that?”
“No way,” Cordelia gasped, “Nami!”
“It is you!” the woman’s arms ended up around Cordelia’s shoulders, “It’s been so long!”
“It’s been too long!” Cordelia swallowed the tears bubbling up in her throat.  Because she knew what she’d have to do next. 
“Wait,” Ash looked up at his mother, then back at the woman in front of them, “Is she that Nami?”
“She is,” Cordelia nodded.
“Hi there,” Nami cracked a smile, not sure how to act around a four year old.  She got down to his level, “I’m Nami.  What’s your name?”
“Ash,” he played a little shy, hiding around Cordelia’s leg.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ash,” Nami got back up, “So, what’s his story?  Keeping an eye on one of the neighbor kids, Cordelia?”
“Well,” Cordelia bit her lip, “Not quite.  Could we find somewhere to go talk?”
“Sure,” Nami agreed, “But I’m kind of a mission right now.”
And that got Ash’s attention, “Wow!  You mean, you’re on a real pirate mission right now?”
“It’s not that exciting, kid,” Nami giggled, “Just doing some shopping for the cook on my ship.”
“So…” Cordelia’s heart sunk, “You’re saying the whole crew’s here?”
“Mmhm,” Nami nodded, “In fact, when we needed to restock, I brought us here.”
“Wonderful,” Cordelia winced, “Great.”
“Are you sure about that?” Nami wondered, “Because you might want to tell the rest of your face that.”
“Again,” Cordelia reiterated, “It’s been a while since we last saw each other, Nami.  Come on.  Let’s go talk.  I’m sure the produce can wait.”
And so, Cordelia and Ash took Nami to the square.  Somewhere bright and open where Ash could run around with his friends and where Cordelia and Nami could catch up on things.  The square of the village was always bustling with life.  Plenty of kids for Ash to play with, young couples on the cusp of falling in love.  It was a beautiful place.  And it had been a beautiful place since Cordelia first arrived.
“So,” Nami looked over at the sweet, little boy she ran into at the market, “Ash is your son?”
“Yes, he is,” Cordelia confirmed, “I know.  Hard to believe.  But that’s my baby.  I swear, he turned my life around.”
“I’m sure,” Nami gasped, “That’s bound to happen when you have a freakin’ baby!  Why didn’t you tell us?”
“That’s where it gets a little tricky,” Cordelia gnawed on the inside of her cheek, “Because it’s just Ash and me.”
“What about his dad?” Nami wondered, “Or is that a touchy subject?”
“It’s funny,” Cordelia twiddled her thumbs, “Nami, how old would you figure Ash is?”
“I don’t know,” Nami looked him over, “Probably…Four?  Five?”
“He’s almost five,” Cordelia told her, “And how long would you say it’s been since we last saw each other?”
“It’s definitely been a few years,” Nami started doing the math in her head.
“Would you say about six?”
“Actually,” Nami thought back, “Yeah!  Probably about six.  Give or take a few months.”
“And with that in mind,” Cordelia nudged her along, “What happened the last time you guys rolled through here?”
“Well,” Nami giggled, “You were working at that tavern.”
“Still am.”
“And when we walked in,” she went on, “I remember Luffy practically licking the inside of your fridge clean.”
“He came damn close,” Cordelia laughed, “Yeah.  And what else?”
“Zoro passed out on the floor,” Nami added, “And I had to be the one to carry him because Sanji was nowhere to be found.  You know, Cordelia, come to think of it, you weren’t either.”
“Yeah,” Cordelia’s face settled into a soft smile, “Yeah…I wasn’t.  And neither was he.”
“Oh, Cordelia,” Nami awed with sheer disgust on her face, “Tell me you didn’t…Tell me you didn’t run off with Sanji.  Tell me you didn’t fall for his garbage.”
“Hey,” Cordelia defended, “It’s not all garbage.  I fell for his garbage in the way you feel bad for a puppy left in the rain.”
“And you still wake up in the morning with fleas in your bed and pee in your slippers,” Nami argued, “Come on.  You deserve better than that.”
“Well,” Cordelia glanced out at the square at the sweet little boy she loved more than anything in the world, “After you guys left, I met a man.  Tall, good looking, strong…When he found out I was pregnant, he was over the moon.  He couldn’t wait to be a dad.  But then, my first year with Ash went by and…He took off.  Because Ash didn’t look much like me.  And he didn’t look a thing like him.  So, he knew Ash wasn’t his son.  And it’s been Ash and me ever since.”
“I’m so sorry, Cordelia,” Nami took her hand, “What happened then?”
“I know Ash was way too young to remember this,” Cordelia smiled, “But I needed to clear my head and what better way than taking some time out at sea?”
“You took your one year old out on the boat?” Nami gasped, “That’s pretty ballsy.”
“And it was a hell of a time.  He learned to walk on the deck before he learned to walk on land.  And when he finally walked on land for the first time, it was like he never learned to walk at all.”
“He learned on his sea legs,” Nami teased, “But he seems to be doing alright now.”
“We both are,” Cordelia confirmed, “But you guys being here…That could very well be a disaster.  For everyone involved.”
“Why?”
“Hey, Ash!” Cordelia called out to him, “Come here!”
Ash ran right up to his mother’s knee, “Yeah, Mama?”
“Oh, nothing,” Cordelia pushed his hair out of his face, leaving Nami a bit speechless, “Just making sure you’re doing alright.  We might need to be getting home soon, sweetheart.  I have no doubt we’re going to have company tonight.”
“We’re having company?” Ash wondered, “Who’s coming over?”
“Well, Ash,” Cordelia sat him on her lap, shooting a quick glance at Nami, “How would you feel about having a house full of pirates for dinner?”
“Really?!” Ash squealed, “You mean it, Mama?”
“I’m sure Nami could talk her captain into it,” Cordelia hoped, “Right, Nami?”
“Anywhere that promises to feed our captain,” Nami sighed out, “You know he won’t be able to say no.”
“Yay!” Ash bounced down from Cordelia’s knees, “Our house is going to be full of pirates!”
“Cordelia,” Nami kept her voice down, “You do realize what this means, right?  If I tell everyone we’re coming to your house for dinner…”
“Do not tell them you’re coming to my house,” Cordelia demanded, “Please, Nami.  I already know this is going to be a hard pill to swallow, but don’t tell them it’s my house.  And don’t tell anyone about Ash.”
“I won’t,” Nami swore, “Not a peep.  But I will gladly tell the boys to come by your house.”
“Thank you.”
And just before they parted ways, Nami looked back at Ash.  Then, back to his mother, “Hey, Cordelia?”
“Hmm?” Cordelia grabbed her bags.
“Is it me,” Nami wondered, “or does Ash’s eyebrow kind of…Curl up a little?”
“On his left one?” Cordelia flagged him down, “Yeah.  It does.  You’re not wrong.”
“It’s weird,” Nami grabbed her own bags, “Because I know someone else who’s got the same thing.”
“I know you do,” Cordelia bit the inside of her cheek, “It was great seeing you again, Nami.”
“See you later.”
And just like that, Cordelia grabbed Ash while Nami headed back to the ship.  Although, the walk back was interesting.  While Ash rattled on about how excited he was to meet the same pirates his mama knew all those years ago, Cordelia had too much on her mind to even let it process.  He’s going to freak.  He’s going to get one eye on Ash and he’s going to freak.  I don’t think either one of us is going to be able to handle that.  But I’ve taken care of Ash on my own for the last four years.  I don’t see why I couldn’t keep doing that.  What am I thinking?  We’ll be fine.  No expectations.
“Mama?” Ash grabbed the door for her, “Are we really going to have a house full of pirates?”
“That’s right, baby,” Cordelia dropped her fresh produce in the sink, “We’re going to have a house full of pirates.”
“I can’t wait to tell the others,” Ash bounced on his chair at the kitchen table, “They’re going to be so jealous!”
“Yep,” Cordelia sighed out.  I’m sure there were a lot of women here that would’ve been jealous of me if they saw who I was with that night, “Are you going to help me cook or are you going to just sit there?”
“What do you need me to do?”
For the rest of the afternoon, Cordelia and Ash were peeling, sauteing, boiling, and slow roasting.  All within reason, of course.  Cordelia wasn’t going to let the baby near the heat.  He didn’t need to burn himself.  In her heart, Cordelia wanted nothing more than to be petty.  Granted, she always told herself since she was pregnant with Ash.  She didn’t need anyone else.  It’d be herself and Ash.  And that’s the way it would stay.  But she looked at her spices.  And there sat the sealed bottle of oregano.  A part of her wanted to break its seal, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 
But then, night fell over Beniville Bay.  And Cordelia could hear the hustle and bustle outside start to dim down.  Until it got to be the ruckus on her front porch.  She could hear assorted chatter floating in through her open kitchen window wondering where they were, whose house Nami was taking everyone to for the evening, what was going on.  Along with the faint smell of cigarette smoke.  And it made her smile.  It had been so long since Cordelia had seen her favorite group of miscreants.  But she knew it may not go well.  And she had braced herself for that.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Ash,” Cordelia caught her baby’s attention while he sat at the kitchen counter, “You ready?  We’re about to be taken on by a bunch of pirates.”
“I’m ready, Mama!” Ash could hardly contain himself.  He hadn’t been able to sit still since he met Nami that morning.  He couldn’t wait to have his house full of pirates.
“Alright,” Cordelia wiped her hands off on one of her tea towels and went to the door, “I want you to behave yourself tonight, Asher.”
“I will,” Ash promised, sticking his pinky out to his mother.
“Thank you,” Cordelia kissed the top of his head, “Because I’m about to have enough babies in the house tonight.”
Well…Here goes nothing.
46 notes · View notes
bitchin-beskar · 1 year
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hi 👋
may I request a reader that is a pack rat but with useful things? like they’re always ready with something in their bag to help tf141 with their needs. wether its a snack, an extra shirt, or whatever. they’re just dora with their backpack lol
and the men are always in awe bc ‘how are they always ready for any situation’?? it can be platonic or romantic but would surely love some fluff with it. please and thank you! 🥰
hello love!!! you can indeed request that!!! this is such a cute idea!!!
you suggested dora with the backpack, which is very valid, but my brain also jumps to daphne blake from scooby doo bc that girl carries a tiny ass purse and has everything under the sun and can make shit on the fly like nothing (there was one episode where she made a hydroelectric battery to power the mystery machine like it was nothing lol)
so taking both of those vibes and jumping headfirst in!!! here's a tidbit from how I think a fic with that might go!! (also I kept reader gender neutral in this one, bc you didn't specify any pronouns!)
It's finally happened, Soap is sure of it. The 141 has finally run into a situation that BP isn't gonna have the supplies for.
BP is the callsign of the team medic, which is why you could be forgiven for thinking their name is short for 'blood pressure.'
It's not.
It's short for 'backpack.'
Soap had chuckled when he first heard it, but those little chuckles quickly died when he realised his superiors were serious. All they'd say was that you were uniquely skilled at anticipating the needs of your teammates on any given mission, as well as a well-qualified and well-trained field medic and surgeon.
That first mission, everything had gone FUBAR, including the exfil being shot down, leaving the team stranded in enemy territory with their only possible transport being new black-market Humvees with remote locking systems that were thus far unbreakable. Price and Ghost had been conversing over a plan of attack when you'd simply opened up your ever present backpack and pulled out a small handheld remote. Flipping a switch, you pointed it at the nearest Humvee, and an audible click! indicated it was now unlocked.
They'd all stared for a solid minute before you coughed and said "Uh, about that exfil?" and the team jerked into action and dove for the doors of their new escape vehicle. When asked what the fuck kind of wizard tech you had, you simply shrugged and said it was a universal remote.
Soap had figured it for a one-off. He'd never been more wrong.
Ghost's balaclava gets irreparably damaged and covered in gross bodily fluids? You've got a brand new one in the exact size he needs, made from water resistant fabric.
Price's cigars get lost in (yet another) heli crash? You've got a brand new box of Maduro cigars in that backpack, the only explanation being that you'd "found them while out shopping."
Gaz loses his ball cap, and you whip out a spare without even a second glance, shoving it onto his head without a care in the world, even as he's sputtering because "how the hell do you have the same damn cap? I bought that old one years ago!"
Alejandro's iPod gets destroyed after the team has to flee through a river and all their gear gets waterlogged, and out of a Ziploc, you pull a brand new one with the headphones he likes, and he's shocked to see it's downloaded with all his favorite songs, and the default setting is currently on Spanish.
Rudy's a diabetic, and his insulin pump gets damaged in a knife fight, and not only do you have insulin for him, you have a brand new pump as well, and specific snacks that will help him hold out till he can replace the pump. It's originally brushed off that you have this because of being the team's doctor, until Rudy points out that you don't actually have access to his medical records, with him being Mexican Special Forces and you being SAS.
And Soap? Soap ran out of room in his journal one day, in the middle of trying to sketch and he hadn't realized how close he was to the end, so he hadn't brought a spare. Before he even has the chance to feel disappointed, you're slipping a brand new journal with the exact right type of paper he prefers into his hands.
It's not just personal stuff either. Any tool, gadget, gizmo, whirlygig, or thingamabob they could think of, you just... had it. Wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, lockpicks, extra mags, oil, cleaning rags, padlocks, bolt cutters, bandaids, needles, suture thread, ice packs, heat packs, gauze, hair ties, bobby pins, the list goes on and on and on.
Never, not once had there been a situation where the team had needed something that you couldn't pull from the dark, yawning pit that you called a backpack.
Except, Soap is confident that this time, you don't have what they need. You couldn't possibly have predicted this outcome.
The mission had been a comedy of errors, the team racing across the globe, bouncing between countries, hopping from continent to continent tracking the HVT Laswell had sent the lot of you after. Through a completely random turn of events, you'd ended up in the United States of all places, in the wooded areas of Washington state. It wasn't a state park, per se, but close enough. Supposedly, there was a cache here that the HVT frequented, and might have valuable intel.
Unfortunately, your way had been blocked by some State Park Rangers, who demanded that you either provide proof of registration that allowed you to be there, or the team had to leave.
Of course, being members of the SAS and Fuerzas Especiales, who operated out of Europe and Mexico respectively, the likelihood of any of them having the right paperwork was infinitesimal.
"Hold on!"
Soap whirled around at the sound of your voice. There you were, rummaging through your backpack.
"No fuckin' way," Gaz whispered, the rest of the team going deathly still.
There was absolutely, positively, no possible way on God's green Earth that you were gonna–
"Found it!"
You let out a whoop of excitement, pulling a small rectangular piece of plastic from your bag, a hole through the top indicating that it might go in a car, hanging from the rearview mirror.
"Here's our permit for the Washington State Parks and Forestry. Just renewed it, too."
The Rangers took it sceptically, but their faces cleared as they looked it over.
"Everything seems to be in order then, ma'am. Sorry for the delay and confusion."
"No problem!" You chirped, ignorant of the dumbfounded stares at your back. "Have a good day, gentlemen!"
Soap felt dizzy. He felt weak. He might actually collapse here on the spot from pure confusion alone. He could faintly hear Gaz muttering behind him, and in his peripheral vision, Alejandro was shaking with silent laughter, and Rudy looked like he'd just been handed the answers to the universe's greatest mysteries.
This had to be a dream. Soap refused to accept reality otherwise.
The Rangers left, and there was a heavy, oppressive silence that settled over the team. BP turned to look at everyone with a smile on their face, only for it to fall when they saw the stunned, blank looks their teammates wore.
"What's wrong?"
Bless 'em, they sounded so confused, but Soap really had no way to express just what he or any of the others were feeling in this moment.
As BP's face fell further, Price surged forward and scooped their medic and resident pack rat into a hug. They let out a small eep! at the sudden constricting pressure around their ribs. It was difficult to hug with tac vests on, but Price was determined.
"C-Captain? Are you alright?"
"Never change, soldier," Price said gruffly, and Soap could hear the disbelieving grin in his CO's voice. "Never fuckin' change."
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pinkandgoldensoul · 1 year
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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!
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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.
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«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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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geekgirles · 1 year
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Disclaimer: I am well aware of the content of the Bible Leaks. However, I will not be addressing them. If you are reading this and have read the leaks as well, please, refrain from pointing out any spoilers from them out of respect to fellow fans that chose not to spoil themselves.
With that out of the way...
Um...could we please take a moment to talk about what just happened, whatever the fuck that is, please?
If you've known me enough, then you must surely know I despise Lila Rossi. As a character, as a villain, if she were a real person I might literally bite her head off... I wholeheartedly believe she is the source of about 75% of the salt in this fandom, given most salt takes on other characters are a direct result of their actions whenever she's around.
Just her mere presence in an episode is enough to sour somewhat my viewing experience.
And even I think her character deserved better than the bullshit they're trying to pull.
Can we please agree that the whole Three Mothers and Three Identities thing is some major ass-pull????
Where the fuck does that even come from?!?!
It makes no sense, it comes completely out of the blue, and it all just comes off as some poorly woven plot to make a literal 14-year-old look worse than a grown ass abusive father terrorising a city and its inhabitants.
And you might say, "Well, Geeks. It doesn't come exactly out of the blue... There was the whole Other Mum from Risk and Different Room in Perfection thing. That's gotta count as foreshadowing."
And though I admire your efforts, I'm afraid I must insist that if that is supposed to be foreshadowing, then it's bad foreshadowing.
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This doesn't feel like foreshadowing, but like some hastily added details they had to include like, "Oh, damn! That's right; we're supposed to be trying to go somewhere with this girl! I know, let's just give her a different mum and room in different episodes. That'll do it."
By the way, this also contradicts some key aspects which ultimately undermines the whole thing. Such as the fact that Lila Rossi is part of the Agreste Brand, so it makes absolutely no sense as to why someone who is clearly not Mrs. Rossi would take her to the train station. Because as evidenced by the Illusion father-teacher conference, Mrs. Rossi is indeed the woman that appeared in Heroes’ Day.
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(Also, Lila was introduced as Gabriel's muse in Ladybug by Alec, though now I'm not sure if she's ever been addressed as Lila Rossi on public appearances such as Risk, but it still feels contradictory) (I don't know, maybe I'm being too nitpicky with this, but it' just feels so contradicting. I swear, I have a point and I will elaborate on it in the future)
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But in the end, the reason why this fails to be proper foreshadowing is that Lila is too much of an absent character for it to properly work. Seeing as, out of 4 seasons before the current point in time, she's only really been in the spotlight/relevant in, what, 6 episodes????
It doesn't feel like a twist we should have seen coming, but as a rushed, groundless subplot that has nothing to do with her previous appearances nor does it tie itself with any of her previously shown traits other than her being a liar.
Which instead of expanding on her character, ultimately reduces it to one-dimensional levels.
I discussed this in a different post forever ago, but in my honest opinion, proper foreshadowing or, at least, character placement, would have been if Lila had shown signs of knowing Alya is Rena Rouge. Why? You may ask. 
Simple.
Because Lila has been shown in two different episodes, in different seasons, to have been paying attention closely and jealously to the things going on around her home. Namely, Ms Bustier’s class doing things together at the park which is right below her window while she was stuck at home because, for some reason, she refused to go back to school. 
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As we all know, Alya first transformed into Rena Rouge in the park. It would have been the perfect explanation as to why Lila never once tried taking glory for Rena’s actions under the guise of being Ladybug’s best friend—because of course she would entrust her best friend with a miraculous! Just like it would have been the perfect chance for her to try to get closer to Adrien once more by claiming something along the lines of, “Though Ladybug overreacted, she has a tendency of doing that because we can’t forget the backhanded comments, we agreed to change my superhero identity into one that would be safer from Hawk Moth!”
Instead, by having Lila somehow pull off the triple identity con without a single warning in six years, what they are doing is robbing her of a believable reason for the way she acts!
Let’s take Chloé, for instance. 
Chloé’s actions are not excusable. Regardless of how terrible Audrey is, or how badly she neglected her before hopping on to the Enabling Train alongside André, that is never reason enough to be a bully and a total brat to absolutely everyone around you. 
However, Chloé’s reason for the way she acts makes perfect sense within context. She is not just your typical rich spoiled brat. She is a rich spoiled brat whose father is in a position of power and whom she has completely under her thumb, which results in André’s power over Paris becoming Chloé’s. And thus, whenever someone confronts her on her terrible behaviour, as long as they are not in equal footing with her (like Adrien or Kagami), she can just have her dad take care of the situation and potentially have that person or their parents/relatives’ lives ruined. 
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Essentially, Chloé’s character amounts to a spoiled brat in a position of power who’s constantly throwing temper tantrums. And yet, this aspect of her personality has gradually been explored over the seasons. 
What’s scary about this is that this is a real-life issue. There are people all over the world getting away with their actions (regardless of how severe they are) because their families have money, power, connections...
Lila, par contrast, gets her character simplified each passing episode she’s featured in. 
We’ve gone from all the possibilities we were offered back in Volpina—Lila indeed just being a new girl trying to make friends but being afraid of rejection, her hating Ladybug while liking Marinette, a possible redemption, her becoming a legitimate villain in her own right rather than the narrative bending over backwards to try convince us she is not a threat even though she is barely featured at all...— to a character whose entire schtick is “Oh, look at me! I’m evil and a liar!”
As I said earlier, one-dimensional levels of character depth. 
The funny thing, though, is that Lila actually had a believable reason for the way she acted, and they are choosing to completely negate that and refuse to give their character any depth in favour of making her as malevolent as possible!
As I said with Chloé, please remember that reason does not mean excuse.
With that out of the way, let's remember how early seasons and especially Oni-Chan went out of their way to establish, or at the very least, hint at Lila being someone who most likely started lying to make herself feel special and make up for the lack of attention she was receiving at home. 
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Unfortunately, as time went by, her desire to be the centre of attention and liked, never mind if she never actually put the effort to deserve any of that, far outweighed any original good will and desire for friendship and genuine connections. While the implications that her mother giving her everything she wanted in hopes of making up for her absence further soured her personality until she became the lying, petty, attention-seeking spoiled brat we know today. 
This, coupled with her desperation to be seemed and, more important, feel more special than she actually is gave us a legitimate reason as to why some petty liar would go as far as to ally herself with a terrorist.
Is it troubling behaviour? Undoubtedly. But Lila's never been shown to be a very stable individual. If the early running gag of her throwing things around when angered is any indication.
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...
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Um...
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...esto...
...what exactly is she missing if she’s suddenly been conning three different, completely unrelated women into thinking she’s their daughter? A good psychiatrist?!?!
(I apologise for talking about a minor’s state of sanity, but you’ll have to agree with me that the writers are the first ones portraying kids as literal monsters here). 
And you might say, “You might be overthinking this, Geeks. After all, it’s a superhero show; you can’t expect it to be realistic.”
And once again you would raise a very valid point. Hell, God knows I wouldn’t watch half the things I do if they were realistic. However, it is imperative that we make a distinction: 
Fiction doesn’t have to be realistic, but it must be convincing.
And there is nothing convincing about a 14-year-old having three different identities because of how good a liar and manipulator she supposedly is. 
Marinette pulls off impressive, crazy feats every single day? That is convincing because we see repeatedly how Marinette has both a complexity addiction due to a need to control things to calm her anxiety, and the fact that what ultimately saves the day is her natural quick-thinking and creativity, not to mention the fact that she has superpowers.
Chloé gets to expel people just by threatening to call her dad, the Mayor? Again, it is convincing, and probably even realistic, because she is in a position of power and, unlike Lila, her actions are appropriate in the sense that they are outlandishly cartoonish.
Lila...she doesn’t have that. 
Maybe it's just me, but I just can't seem to buy the excuse that any responsible mother would be okay with their underaged daughter "going to Africa to deal with poachers" all by herself, especially in the middle of the school year. Just like I have the feeling many parents would at least be apprehensive at the idea of their teenage daughter becoming such a public figure as both a model and the face of the Alliance rings.
But hey, maybe those are just signs of me having the potential to become an overprotective mother in the future. Instead of, you know, one of the most atrocious cases of the Adults Are Useless trope I've ever seen.
Nevertheless, as of right now Lila doesn’t even have much depth. And I’m not saying she needs some sob story that will make us feel sorry for her, no. You don’t need to make a villain sympathetic for them to be a good villain. After all, Frollo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame has no sympathetic traits nor does he have a sad backstory whatsoever and he is still one of the best Disney villlains ever. 
So what am I supposed to do with Lila? What, do I have to wait until season 6 comes around and retrospectively reveals she’s not a teenage girl at all but some sort of ancient witch who lures people in with her syren song and feeds off of their adoration for her?
At this point it just feels like the writers are so desperate for adding shock value, that they forget to add anything of value.
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omg since you’re taking off todya from studying can we hear some of your beatle hottakes?
ughhhhhhh sorry, these are so hard to come up with these days
meta take: I sort of wish we could have a genuine conversation about the blurry line between wishful thinking/headcanon and more objective (or, aspiring to be objective) historical analysis – I get the headcanons, I really do! but just in the past year, there's been several instances of people in good faith asking about sources or questioning "fan favourite" anecdotes and being shouted down for "ruining people's fun". If you want to engage with this stuff in a more lighthearted way, that's fine! but accept that that's what you're doing. Being rude to people trying to get to the truth is not a good look. Your imagination can withstand it, I promise.
more people need to jump on the Day Tripper tinhatting train. shit's crazy up here
the more I listen to Double Fantasy the more I'm offended that a certain brand of John fan basically only names songs from 1970/71 as his best. ditto with Walls and Bridges…
Again And Again And Again: best Denny solo-written Wings song ( it's hard to gauge how much is him and how much is Paul for their collabs. Anyways, No Words my beloved)
Sexy Sadie is kind of perfect… The lyrics, the chords, the distorted doo-wop it all embodies that DISAPPOINTMENT so well. The guitar solo is great, the high-pitched oooooooooohs. No notes, underrated song for sure.
the Mind Games album cover is soooooo deranged but so fucking good. That and Ram might be the best post-Beatles album covers.
this isn't exactly a take but the SADDEST part of Hey Jude is when John harmonizes with Paul. I can't not hear all the unspoken pain.
I kind of hope we get versions of Free As A Bird and Real Love with cleaned up John vocals like Now And Then. I don't want to erase those originals because the audio quality tells a story of its own, but Real Love especially suffers so much from it. I listened to it earlier today and nearly got teary. "No need to be alone" kind of gives me goosebumps. There's something so raw and emotional about all three of these songs…
This is almost the opposite of a hottake, but it kind of Doesn't Matter To Me who Now And Then is about. It could be about Paul, it could pretty easily be about Yoko too, and a few people I've seen say they think it's about May, which could be too! It perhaps not being directed at Paul doesn't take away from the song for me, because the song feels bigger than just its direct inspiration.
On that note, I sort of think that sometimes people could stand to.... Die on fewer hills? Like, the notion that Now And Then could be about Yoko doesn't negate John and Paul's relationship or most things people theorize they may have gotten up to. Now And Then Release Week bonus round, cause it's been long enough to talk about it a bit:
Paul (and Ringo and George! they also have a writing credit, guys!) making editorial choices about John's unfinished song with the blessing of his widow is literally fine. "But John might not have approved–" yes, this is how death works. John also might have found the song embarrassing and not wanted it released at all. It wasn't on Double Fantasy after all! Or maybe he would have specifically wanted to remove the same bit! (which I maintain is musically strange and unfitting at worst and at best a still really rough idea that would probably require a lot of work in of itself – echoing the chord progression in the instrumental bit is the best compromise I could imagine)
I actually really get the George girls who were a bit bummed out by the rollout of the song. He DID get the short end in this situation! but… what would have been better? I saw some people say Paul isn't nearly as good a slide guitarist at George. Okay well then… So Paul should've hired a session musician? How does that makes sense? Paul should've asked Dhani to find some random guitar bit George recorded 25 years ago and frankensteined it onto this song? I'm asking this honestly: what should have been done instead? Because… I sort of got the feeling from some of the criticism that the only acceptable solution was to not release this song at all. And TBH I don't think George "getting the short end" is worse than not allowing Paul and Ringo the closure of completing this song. This wasn't perfect but again: yes, this is how death works.
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