#that his marriage isn’t real (delusions) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiveredlights · 7 days

Text

there's glitter on the floor after the party: the deleted scenes

i'm sure it'll make someone happy because i think we all need it! just as a note, this is all unedited so some of it might make no sense and that's okay.

(i recommend the google doc for easier reading otherwise the whole thing is under the cut)

Chapter one: 2023

I don’t have anything to show…anything I did cut has already been long deleted. My bad. The first two are very sparse because I was cutting unwanted things as my Google docs was lagging whenever I opened it. The only thing I remember writing that chapter was that it was meant to coincide with Daniel’s return to COTA in real life but I ran out of time so I pushed it back to Las Vegas.

Chapter two: 2024

CUT: Daniel winning the championship

WHY: Felt too rushed and easy. No emotional pay off, you were only just introduced to Daniel in RBR again. Also don’t ask me what happened to Max for him to not just clean sweep 2023-2027. Also don’t ask who won the championship in 2026. I declare that your favourite driver won it and I definitely did not forget to give a championship.

DANIEL: Oh my god, it’s just surreal like I don’t know how to describe it. Especially after the past couple years, it’s just—yeah. And to do it with Max too, it’s just something special for me and the team.

MISCELLANEOUS:

73 Questions With Daniel Ricciardo | Vogue

3.3M views 2 days ago …more

Vogue 4M

[00:00:00]

DANIEL: Hello Vogue, didn’t see you there. Welcome to my home away from home.

[00:13:33]

PRODUCER: One sentence you could tell your younger self?

DANIEL: Doors are meant to be opened.

[00:15:09]

PRODUCER: Worst thing about racing in Formula 1?

DANIEL: Accidents, hands down. It’s horrifying as a driver to watch someone crash, because that’s when everything sort of gets a reality check in the cockpit. Like we are racing around at three-hundred kilometres an hour, and there is a real chance that something could go wrong. I’ll never forget Max’s Silverstone accident, just—yeah it just a horrible thing to witness.

—

emotionalsupportredbull

not daniel fidgeting with his necklace when he talks about max’s silverstone crash… you ain’t slick boy

#yes i have deluded myself into thinking it’s from max #i’m already depressed i don’t want to hear it #join team emotional support redbull delusions

348 notes

frenchpine

qu'est-ce que tu sais, espèce de salope française qui aime l'érable et qui parle bizarrement ? sors avec ça (What do you know you maple-loving weird speaking French bitch? Come out with it)

#je ne veux pas te traiter de salope #ou peut-être que c'est le cas (#i don’t mean to call you a bitch #or maybe i do)

392 notes

(i promise i wrote this before he decided to rear end daniel in china. i pinky promise.)

landando

daniel “doors are meant to be opened” ricciardo

#what is my man on #doors are meant to be opened 😭😭 #he didn’t open a door one time and it’s haunted him for life

78 notes

Chapter three: 2025

CUT: Red Bull marketing video

WHY: Chapter was already very long. Also I couldn’t find any good questions.

Daniel and Max play the F1 newlywed game 💒💍

827K views 10 hours ago #Gives you wings #F1 … more

Oracle Red Bull Racing 1.58M

INT. RED BULL RACING HOSPITALITY - DAY

[00:00:00]

MAX: Hello everyone and today we are playing the newlywed game.

DANIEL: Are you excited?

MAX: I mean I have to say yes otherwise I look like I’m in an unhappy marriage.

DANIEL: Wow—

MAX:—Also the name doesn’t even make sense. Newlywed? That isn’t us.

DANIEL: [To off screen] Guys, I would get someone to approve your overtime, we’re gonna be here a while.

[00:02:01]

OFF SCREEN: Who is more likely to overpack for a holiday?

DANIEL: Don’t look at me!

MAX: We have three suitcases.

DANIEL: It takes effort to look this good.

MAX: Three suitcases every single race weekend.

DANIEL: What’s the next question?

CUT: Lucinda’s vaguely threatening email

WHY: Broke the fourth wall. Glitter on the floor is meant to be solely a third POV view and I couldn’t justify it.

CONFIDENTIAL: PRESS STRATEGY REGARDING MAX VERSTAPPEN AND DANIEL RICCIARDO

From: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing

To: maxverstappen@/redbull.racing, danielricciardo@/redbull.racing

CC: christianhorner@/redbull.racing, teamdaniel@/press.redbull.racing, teammax@/press.redbull.racing

Date: 21 Nov 2025 at 3:04am

Hi all,

Please see attachment below for finalised details regarding your press strategy and talking points this weekend. Media have been advised to not ask any questions about the ring and we’d like to keep it that way. Remember to keep it vague if you do get asked, and if you don’t feel comfortable a simple no comment will suffice.

Please email for any further clarification or questions and good luck this weekend. (And please no spur of the moment Las Vegas—Elvis impersonator weddings you two.)

Best regards,

Lucinda Salzar (she/her)

Head of Communications, Red Bull Racing.

E: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing

P: +44 ** **** *****

CUT: The chaotic Abu Dhabi super seat swap

WHY: I had to cut this because I altered the timeline, Las Vegas was going to the second last race. In an earlier version Max and Daniel were gonna come back in 2026 and also drop the Matilda news at the same time but I wanted more content just out of Maxiel so I had to leave this on the cutting board. Some of it made it into the published fic but the original thing was more chaotic. (Also I changed the Red Bull junior driver at least once a week because they kept dropping them. It went from Hauger, to Crawford, to Maloney and then I just gave up because I could not keep up.)

lights-out-away-we-go

red bull needed to replace two drivers and they did in THE MOST CHAOTIC way possible. okay, just listen:

the official red bull reserve driver is liam lawson (of alpha tauri, so he obviously gets pulled up)

alpha tauri then call on zane maloney to replace liam (alpha tauri’s reserve driver)

BUT, daniel’s car still needs to fulfil the mandatory rookie free practice session (max’s was completed in mexico when maloney drove)

red bull can’t get zane in daniel’s car again cause he’s got to drive liam’s… so they’ve got to find someone who has the super licence points … we’ll come back to this

so right now car 3 is being driven by liam lawson, car 40 is driven by zane maloney. i hear you ask… who is driving car 1? it’s none other than yuki tsunoda (of alphatauri)

I KNOW, but red bull have quite literally run out of contracted reserve drivers and i believe because every driver is technically employed by red bull (whether they drive for RB or AT) they’re able to pull them up or down without the FIA kicking up a fuss

i’ll wait for why red bull pulled up both AT’s

this means yuki tsunoda’s alpha tauri will be without a driver and once again, red bull call Pepe Marti

#i don’t even know if this is 100% correct i could be so wrong

13,482 notes

—

SKY F1 SPORTS- 2025 ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX - FREE PRACTICE 1

David CROFT: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our final race of the 2025 season, to our first free practice session under the blistering sun of Abu Dhabi and if this is your first time watching, welcome along cause this will certainly be an interesting race weekend. Now, eagle eyed viewers may have caught that AlphaTauri driver Yuki Tsunoda is in the Red Bull, and his team mate is sitting in the next garage over not in a car. Anthony Davidson is with me—Ant, care to explain to our viewers at home the driver seat swap chaos that’s happening down at Red Bull?

Anthony DAVIDSON: Hello everyone, wherever in the world you may be watching and yes, chaos is the right word for it isn’t it? I’ve got about five pieces of paper and I’m going to do my best to explain, what I think, is the most complicated driver situation in F1 history.

CROFT: Yes, for those who didn’t join us last time out or who may be new to F1, I promise driver seat talk usually isn’t this complicated but we’ll do our best to make sense of it all. Now we’ve got to start at the last race for it all to make sense. Red Bull driver Daniel Ricciardo had a nasty crash with Enzo Fittipaldi of Haas that left him with a concussion and bruised ribs, which is why presumably he isn’t racing today, and we wish him well in his recovery. Red Bull’s other driver Max Verstappen was also not able to race this weekend for an unspecified reason, so Red Bull are left with two empty seats.

DAVIDSON: We know that Red Bull’s official reserve driver is Liam Lawson, so that’s no problem there. He’s driving Daniel’s number 3 car, but here’s where the trouble starts. Car number 3 still needs to complete its mandatory FP1 session, which Zane Maloney was planning to do this session. But you’ll notice that Zane is in Liam’s car right now, the Alpha Tauri—and this is because he’s Alpha Tauri’s reserve driver.

CROFT: Still following everyone? So far, car number 3 is being driven by Liam Lawson, car number 40 is being driven by Zane Maloney. But Liam Lawson isn’t even in car number 3 at the moment, it’s Pepe Marti, who is currently racing in Formula 2 and part of Red Bull’s junior academy. He’s competing the mandatory rookie FP1 session for car number 3.

DAVIDSON: So now we move onto Max Verstappen’s car, which is being driven by the other AlphaTauri driver, Yuki Tsunoda. Which now means AlphaTauri needs a driver to replace him and it’s Red Bull junior driver, Isack Hadjar who is in car number 22.

CROFT: Right, so it’s Yuki Tsunoda and Liam Lawson in Red Bull for the race, Zane Maloney and Isack Hadjar in the AlphaTauri’s and Pepe Marti in Liam or Daniel’s Red Bull for FP1. Confused? Don’t worry, so are we so bare with us if we accidentally get names and teams wrong because I believe this is possibly the biggest driver change in F1 history.

DAVIDSON: Yes and because I know people will be asking, “Why didn’t Red Bull just put Maloney in Daniel’s car for the whole weekend?” and we have an answer and officially, it’s because of contracts. Whatever behind the scenes isn’t allowing him to drive that Red Bull which is why they called up Yuki instead. Maloney has also said he feels more confident driving the AlphaTauri all weekend rather than the Red Bull, so that also may play a factor in this.

CROFT: But also this is a perfect opportunity for Red Bull to compare both drivers, should the opportunity for one of them to make the move into Red Bull when the time arises.

Chapter four: 2026

CUT: Netflix Drive to Survive script

WHY: Once again, I was lazy and didn’t want to write a script. I kinda wish I did though, I think it would’ve given Las Vegas 2025 more substance, especially because you only see it through a fan perspective whereas DTS allows you to get the driver’s perspective, but I do plan to finish this off…. eventually….

Netflix- Drive to Survive

Season 9, Episode 3 “Redemption”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is back in town but it’s not all good fortunes for those driving. The biggest paddock secret is unveiled.

—

INT. KITCHEN - MORNING

We see scrambled eggs on a frying pan.

OFF SCREEN: Daniel? Where is my jumper? The blue one?

The camera zooms out from the eggs to see Daniel, wearing a light blue jumper, grimacing at the camera.

DANIEL: (Under his breath) To be fair it was my jumper first.

The camera swings to Max in the doorway, arms crossed as he narrows his eyes at Daniel.

MAX: I heard that.

(In the garage, during the crash.)

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: Has anyone told Max?

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #2: We’re not telling him.

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #3: Seriously?

RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: He thinks his husband is dead, we’re telling him!

INT. HOTEL ROOM

PRODUCER: Do you have some fears about allowing the world to know about your relationship?

DANIEL: God, of course I have. We both have. But we spent so long being—not scared, but worried let’s say about the consequences of us just being together. But then Las Vegas happened and all I wanted was Max to sit by my bedside and make a stupid joke about me being in hospital again. And it was when Christian literally had to fight multiple people to get Max into that hospital I realised that what we were doing was unsustainable.

PRODUCER: Unsustainable?

DANIEL: Are you married?

PRODUCER: Yes?

DANIEL: Have you ever watched your partner crash into something at three hundred kilometres an hour and no one telling you if they were even alive? Because I’ve done that. We’ve done that. Multiple times.

Montage of different Max & Daniel accidents.

DANIEL: And then you have to go on with your day, going to debrief, doing press but all you really want to do is go to them and make sure that they’re even alive?

PRODUCER: …

DANIEL: So yeah. Unsustainable.

—

333 update account @/official333

📺 | Drive to Survive (Netflix)

Daniel talking about his relationship with Max on and off the track:

Q: Do you think it’s been challenging to balance out the relationship given your unique relationship with Max?

Daniel: No, and I think people over dramatise the complexity of it all. I mean sure, it has been somewhat difficult, especially at the beginning but in the end it is just racing, you know? We’re both aware that we are something different from the other drivers, but I like that. Not many people get to do what they love with their partner right next to them, so I definitely take every race we do together for granted.

476 replies 88 reposts 8,372 likes

CUT: Alternate ‘M’ reveal

WHY: I genuinely spent like half an hour thinking if fictional Max and Daniel would show Matilda, I had earlier drafts where they hide her face until I was like okay, this is fictional. Bad things do not exist in this universe, so it’s fine. Plus, Matilda is so cute I can’t hide her.

[Video: Daniel, standing in front of a door.

DANIEL: I know a lot of you guys might have noticed that I’ve been dropping clues towards who this mysterious M is and it’s finally time to reveal who it is.

He opens the door and pans the camera to Max.

DANIEL: M stands for Max. Sorry to break the news, it’s not that exciting. Wait, who’s that?

The camera pans further down to show Max holding a baby, she’s sleeping soundly in Max’s arm.

Photo: A baby. She’s wearing a light blue onesie, and her hand is wrapped around a mini honey badger soft toy.]

Liked by lucsalzar and others

danielricciardo Everybody meet Matilda. Matilda, this is everybody.

View all 5,638 comments

georgerussell63 They learnt what hard launching is and said we’re going to do it for everything… Congrats 🙌

landonorris be prepared for the onslaught of driver themed onesies coming your way…

1 March

CUT: The half-completed TIME article about Daniel

WHY: I did not have it in me to write another 1000 word article. I spent around a week just writing Daniel’s The Players’ Tribune article. But what I did write, I did like. Was also around the time TIME named Taylor Swift as their person of the year, so that’s where I got that inspiration.

How 2025 was the year of the Honey Badger—Daniel Ricciardo on winning his first Formula 1 Championship during a historic year.

by Tylda Rune-Liberi for TIME

February 15, 2026 9:33AM EST

It’s 2017 and F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo was asked in a press conference what race he would like the new owners of F1 to host. His answer? Las Vegas. In 2023, five years on, his wish was granted. Two years later, in 2025, the race he had proclaimed as a dream race would turn into stuff of nightmares.

Leading the race and looking like he would take a first win at Las Vegas after a podium in 2023, it looked like everything was going Ricciardo’s way until a bizarre accident with Kick Stake Sauber’s Theo Pourchaire causes a major accident, leaving Ricciardo wedged in the cockpit for over half an hour.

Pourchaire had given way to Ricciardo as he was being lapped, before attempting to unlap himself, choosing the wrong moment as Ricciardo was heading into the pitlane. Radios released after the accident have Pourchaire admit he “didn’t think he was going into the pit lane.”

It’s a horrifying crash to watch—even with the knowledge that both drivers would be okay, and it would soon be clear that no one felt it more in the pitlane than Ricciardo’s own teammate: Max Verstappen.

Formula 1 drivers all drive with the knowledge that a crash could happen at any given moment, but this accident was different.

[Photo: Daniel, in a dark navy denim blue overshirt and jeans.]

Ricciardo and Verstappen have had a long and varied partnership throughout their career, first starting in 2016 where Verstappen was brought up mid season from then-Red Bull junior team Toro Rosso (now Visa Cash App RB), winning his debut race with the team, where it looked like the win would go to Ricciardo instead. They would go on to be teammates for another two seasons, before Ricciardo announced a shocking move to Renault (now Alpine).

One thing that stood out about their initial partnership was how their off track friendship never seemed to waver, even in their most turbulent of times (see Hungary 2017 or Azerbaijan 2018). In an era where friendships between teammates seemed to famously end in failure, in the likes of fan dubbed ‘Brocedes’ (Nico Rosberg & Lewis Hamilton; best friends growing up who’s friendship ended in rivalry fighting for a championship) or former Red Bull teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber (Multi-21 Seb?), it was an outlier that the two remained such good friends, even after Ricciardo had departed Red Bull.

Even Ricciardo mentions that Lewis Hamilton had gone up to him to ask how Verstappen and Ricciardo had managed to keep their friendship going even though they had tussles on track. “I don’t really know,” Ricciardo says. “I mean it’s definitely all in hindsight now, but I think it was because we—or at least I—knew that our friendship was really important. Like it was no matter what happens I don’t go and screw up this friendship I have with Max.”

Ricciardo would go through a bumpy time in his post-Red Bull career, going through two seasons at Renault, two seasons at McLaren before a 6 month break where he was named ‘Third Driver’ for Red Bull, a 6 month stint in Red Bull sister team AlphaTauri (formerly Toro Rosso, now Visa Cash App RB) which was marked with Ricciardo missing 5 races due to a hand injury during a free practice session in Zandvoort before returning back to the very seat he left six years earlier, Red Bull announcing Ricciardo’s return at the 2023 Las Vegas race.

A move that was then deemed as a surprise move by many pundits, all was put to rest when Riccardo finessed his AlphaTauri in the podium position, grabbing the team 3rd place and their first podium since Pierre Gasly in 2021.

Something was different about this second stint, and it wasn’t the journeys they’ve both gone on since they both parted ways. There was something different about them together.

[Photo: Max and Daniel laughing in the Red Bull garage.]

Nine years on since their first race together, it was oddly reminiscent of their first. Verstappen crossed the line to win a race his teammate had been poised to do so. Only this time, the celebrations were much different.

With Ricciardo in hospital, Verstappen quickly left the race track after a tuned down podium ceremony, skipping out on mandatory post-race media duties, where competitors and team can attract fines for doing so. (The FIA opted not to fine Verstappen and Red Bull in this instance.)

Even during the red flag it was clearly Verstappen was antsy, with his radio calls after finding out his teammate was in an accident conveying his state of worry. Leaked video from inside the Red Bull garage has Verstappen mention not finishing the race, wanting to be by Ricciardo’s side instead.

///

“I remember I posted the post and people were like ‘Oh, maybe he meant it in a friendly way’ and I was like f***, I’ve got to actually spell it out for them.” Hence, the iconic post that broke the F1 world was born.

[Daniel’s tweet.]

It’s 2020, and the Australian Grand Prix has just been cancelled due to COVID.

All the drivers and teams are left scrambling to try and leave the country before the borders close, and Daniel Ricciardo has just invited Max Verstappen to stay over at his house in Perth.

“I don’t think I can even call it a friendly gesture, because as much as I like the other guys on the grid, there’s no way I would’ve invited them over.”

///

“Yeah, I won a championship. But I’m still the same person.”

Ricciardo’s often been somewhat of an open book, he says—whether it was for the better or for the worse. Every aspect of his life has been so highly publicised, from winning races to what it looks like when he’s not, it’s remarkable how he still holds nearly the same candour, even if his name and career has seemingly been dragged through the mud a thousand times over by the media.

Last year he publicly came out in a F1-related podcast, to what he says was very unplanned. “I didn’t plan to come out, let’s say, it just kind of happened.

“I didn’t even plan to come out, let's say, it just kind of happened? I was recording a podcast and I was talking about 2022 and how it unfolded, the support systems around me and I said “my partner”, and a part of me went Oh, shit! I hadn’t talked about my relationships at length before that, and I knew people were going to absolutely run with it and then I was like—well, might as well just go the whole nine yards, so then the second reference to my partner I very deliberately dropped in he. And that was it.”

“I remember so vividly, I went home that night and I told Max, oh I think I did something stupid and his mind immediately went to me accidentally leaking like team secrets or something big like that, and I was like no, I may have accidentally came out and within like three seconds you could see is brain just switch.

“There is no we found the elephant in the room or whatever. The elephant has always been in the room and it’s just decided to make its presence known.”

“Look, I definitely understand some of the criticism that some people may have with F1 or Red Bull or us capitalising on our relationship or whatever, but I think now more than ever there’s a need to perhaps know who the drivers are when they aren’t driving.” Ricciardo adds.

“Because it’s all fine and good if John Smith is winning races and driving amazingly, but if you know next to nothing about the person because it seems like they’re packed up and shipped race to race, you’re not going to root for the guy because they’ve made no connection.”

Ricciardo quickly clarifies that it’s not a negative for sports people or celebrities to maintain their personal lives, but he sees it more as a way to express or show what he wants to show in his own lives. “We spent nearly five years it near complete secrecy from the outside world and whilst I’m not saying that we should’ve just been public right from the start—we probably wouldn’t have survived—I was just wanting to post a photo of Max burning dinner or something and not have gossip magazines or Instagram accounts dissect every pixel of it.”

Did Ricciardo get pushback from the FIA or his team? It’s a difficult question to answer, he tells me. NDAs and whatnot. He says, “The team was wonderful about it, though. Had multiple team members come up to us willingly to fight the higher powers if needed which was very sweet.”

“Let’s just say there were conversations that I had been made aware of that had made me feel like we weren’t even allowed to look at each other when we were in the paddock. I felt like they were asking me to only refer to him as my teammate, stuff along those lines.”

///

“One of our friends told us at our wedding something along the lines of for F1 drivers, you did move pretty fucking slow in your relationship! And Max was like yeah, did you know who we were in 2018?” Ricciardo laughs loudly, scaring one of the cats who seemed ready to take a nap.

///

“I used to rely so much on what other people thought of me, it wasn’t enough that I thought I was the best guy out there, you also had to think I was the best guy out there.”

///

Racing has always been part of Ricciardo’s life, but he doesn’t want it to be the only thing now in his life. He wants you to ask about things not related to racing, like how much he loves his family or how he thinks the Buffalo Bills are the greatest NFL team on earth.

“I’m not going to do this forever, you know?” He says, finishing the can of Red Bull he’d been slowly sipping throughout the course of this piece. “I hope when I look back at these years of my life I’m going to be equally proud of what I did in the car and what I did outside of it.” — With reporting done by Tylda Rune-Liberi and Nicolas St. Revelate.

CUT: Max and the team getting called up to the FIA

WHY: The FIA seems like an organisation who might send me a cease and desist if I wrote them as quietly homophobic. I don’t have money for a lawsuit. Also wanted to keep the universe happy because the real one is not. Still think my Mad Mex reference is funny.

Autosport @/autosport

Breaking: Max Verstappen summoned to the stewards after allegedly breaking parc ferme rules.

12 replies 90 reposts 821 likes

—

F1 - 2026 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX - POST RACE PRESS CONFERENCE - TRANSCRIPT

23.3.26

Q: Sorry, Daniel just coming back to you now. We’ve just received word that Max Verstappen has just been summoned to the stewards for breaking parc fermé conditions, any reaction on that?

Daniel RICCIARDO: For what?

Q: Uh, we think it might be related to post race procedures around weighing. Not entirely sure yet, his meeting is at 6:15pm.

DR: Well there goes our dinner plans. To be fair our dinner plans were literally just Mad Mex in our hotel rooms before flying to Perth, but still.

Jack DOOHAN: Mad what?

DR: Mad Mex? You know, the Mexican fast food place. Surely you’ve had it.

JD: Oh, I thought you said Mad Max and I was like, “He finished P4 that doesn’t seem too bad.”

DR: Did Max not do the weigh in or what?

Q: He did, after your podium. Sorry mate, even more bad news for the team, they’ve been summoned to the stewards as well.

DR: If I find out I’m going to lose another podium about ten years on after the race here I’m gonna be pissed.

Q: This one is related to Article 26.13 b, where “Unless authorised by the FIA, no one under the age of 16 is permitted in the pit lane at the following times: b) The period commencing fifteen (15) minutes before the pit exit is opened to allow cars to cover reconnaissance laps and the time when the last car enters the parc fermé after the sprint session or the race has ended.”

DR: What cause we had our daughter with us at the podium celebration?

Q: Quite possibly, yeah.

DR: That’s interesting. I—yeah, I’m just gonna say that’s interesting.

Oscar PIASTRI: Kevin had his kids with him in Monza twenty four, didn’t he?

DR: Yeah, I’m sure the team will have a lot to say so we’ll just leave it at that.

CUT: Reaction to Australia winning

WHY: Timeline changes. Original timeline was Australia 2026 being their first race back after Las Vegas and relationship/kid reveal. I apparently also cut the all Australian podium. Can't remember why.

[Photo 1:

Photo 2:

Photo 3:

Photo 4: Lucinda holding the constructor trophy on the podium, Daniel giving a big grin next to her.]

Liked by jackdoohan and others

danielricciardo Never thought I’d be able to share a podium with two other Aussies but what better time than at our home race. @/jackdoohan @/oscarpiastri @/redbullracing 🇦🇺❤️

View all 5,382 comments

ausgp Surely this gets us a public holiday?! @/auspm

oscarpiastri We’re about to get even more annoying…

—

Oracle Red Bull Racing @/redbullracing

Don’t mind us, we’re just in a puddle of tears over how cute @/Max33Verstappen and @/danielricciardo are 😍😭🫶

[Video: Taken from behind the parc ferme barriers, Daniel holding Matilda as Max hugs him, one hand around his waist and the other around the back of his neck.]

—

jeanie 🤠 @/COTADANIEL

flabbergasted about how well max and daniel hid their relationship from the world because man that he looks at daniel like he hung the moon stars and the sun and we’ve just been blind to notice

jake @/381racers

Maxiel admin logged on today thank you universe 🙏

—

DANIEL: Yeah, I just didn’t think I was able to have this, you know? If you had told me like seven years ago that hey, “You’ll be winning again and Max and your kid will be right along with you”, I would’ve laughed in your face. There is still absolutely more work to do, but I’m just glad I get to have my little moment without like some of these outside factors screaming and kicking at us.

CUT: Jake @/381racers meeting Daniel

WHY: Felt too indulgent. Loved it, but I think the idea pushed the boundaries/fourth wall maybe A Little too much, even for my low standards.

jake @/381racers

Only felt right that I get this signed

[Photo: Jake’s infamous tweet “Max Verstappen can you fight?” printed out and framed. Max has signed it and wrote “Yes he can.”]

—

jake @/381racers

First photo really Daniel did you have to shame me further . I thought we had a promise. Anyways, here's the video of me meeting them.

[Video: Jake meeting Daniel, in Red Bull hospitality. They’re both sitting down in chairs, and Jake has his hands on top of a frame placed face down on the table.

JAKE: Do you remember like two years ago in COTA you wore a leather jacket outfit and basically the internet blew up because of how good you looked?

DANIEL: Yeah, with the cowboy hat and everything!

JAKE: And there was a tweet that trended on that weekend—

Daniel sits up in his chair, eyes widening in realisation of who Jake is.

DANIEL: Oh my god you’re “Max Verstappen can you fight?” guy?!

JAKE: Embarrassingly, yes.

DANIEL: (offscreen) How did you find him?!

OFFSCREEN: Remember when I said I was going to bring my boyfriend this race?

Daniel looks back and forth behind the person offscreen and Jake multiple times before bending over and laughing hysterically.

OFFSCREEN: Yeah, I’m not happy about it either.

DANIEL: Oh my god did I like cause you two to meet?

jake @/381racers

No I too am not happy about my internet history coming back to bite me

CUT: Interview with Lawrence Baretto

WHY: I ran out of time. I had planned to post this at the end of Jan, but since I didn’t post that NYD bonus fic, I didn’t wanna go a month without an update so this got culled. Also my vague illusions to Max’s dad felt a little weird.

Exclusive: Daniel Ricciardo on retirement, 15 years of F1 and family with Lawerence Barretto

When I ask about his daughter and if they have any interest in making her follow in her parents footsteps, he shuts down my line of questioning pretty quickly.

“No,” he immediately says. “I’m not going to write out a path for her to follow, or put expectations for her to go into karting because of a family legacy. I think Max knows it a little bit more than me, how the expectations of someone who’s meant to take care of you can tarnish the thing you love.”

Jos Verstappen, Max’s father and former F1 driver hasn’t been seen in the paddock since 2023. Both declined to comment when asked.

“If she wants to start karting, then we’ll probably have a very long conversation about how it’s important that she finds it fun and if she doesn’t then she doesn’t. It’s not important to me that she wins or whatever, I just want her to enjoy it.”

Chapter five: 2027

CUT: Drive to Survive script

WHY: I did not have the energy to write a full script, and I felt like there were too many events to write about and I could not do it justice. Also I would like idk if Max and Daniel would show Matilda on DTS which is crazy because Matilda is not real…

—

Drive to Survive

Season 10 Episode 10 “One final rodeo…”

After fifteen years in the sport, Formula 1 says goodbye to Daniel Ricciardo.

[00:20:26]

INT. HOTEL ROOM INTERVIEW

PRODUCER: We don’t have to talk about Las Vegas.

DANIEL: No, it's fine. Probably should. Uh—yeah.

PRODUCER: We can take a minute.

DANIEL: Yeah, thanks. I didn’t talk about it last year did I?

PRODUCER: No. Okay, we’ll cut.

CUT TO BLACK.

Sound of car crashing into wall, before it fades in to show the Red Bull in the pitlane wall. Cuts to people reacting—Red Bull employees, fans in the grandstands and then a birds eye aerial view of the crash, showing the medical and extraction crew.

PIERRE HAMLIN (V.O): Daniel, are you okay?

Cuts to Max’s T-CAM footage, him driving past the car.

MAX (V.O): What the fuck happened?

PIERRE: Daniel, please just press the radio button so we know you’re okay.

Cuts to Daniel’s T-CAM footage, his helmet leans against the left side of the halo, indicating he’s unmoving.

PIERRE: Daniel, can you hear me?

Cuts to showing the Red Bull pitwall, everyone looking at each other worried.

DANIEL (V.O): The first thought I had was: Shit. This is really bad timing. Second thought I had was: Max is going to kill me.

Cuts to Daniel's forward facing cockpit onboard, him moving his head and looking up and down the cockpit.

PIERRE: Daniel?

DANIEL: Yep. Fuck. My chest, fuck. Shit, is um the other driver okay?

PIERRE: Yes, he's okay but don't worry about him. Do you think you can get out of the car?

DANIEL: Yeah no, I don't think that's happening with breaking something. Fuck, my ribs. Oh god. I think something's broken.

PIERRE: Okay Daniel, the medical team are nearly there but do not move if you think it will cause more damage. The car is safe, so do not worry about anything else.

DANIEL: Yep, okay. Um, will someone tell Max I'm okay? Just, don't freak him out yeah?

PIERRE: Copy Daniel, it will be okay, it will be okay. Just keep radio on please.

DANIEL: Okay. Fuck, this sucks.

INT. STUDIO

TEXT: Max Verstappen, Red Bull Racing driver

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Been a while.

PRODUCER: Didn’t think you were going to agree.

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Would be a big thing if you made it look like we hated each other again!

PRODUCER: We asked Daniel what his first thought was when he had that accident. He said “This is really bad timing” and that you were going to kill him. Why?

MAX: Well, because of Matilda.

EXT. PORT HERCULES, MONACO— MORNING

Long shot of Port Hercules, Monaco, filmed from a balcony. It’s peaceful, quiet—the city sounds filling the background before we hear a baby scream in joy.

DANIEL: Matilda!

Matilda is on the floor in the living room, on a playmat and she plays with wooden blocks. Max is next to her on the ground, with his back leant against the couch, Daniel is on the couch.

DANIEL (V.O): Yeah, she’s one of the best things to happen to me. For a long time my whole life was just racing, but now she’s my whole life. Like it’s okay if I have a bad race or whatever, I’ve got to move on quickly because she’s there at home waiting.

MAX: Having a kid does change you, I think. Daniel will not say his driving has changed, but it has.

PRODUCER: In what way?

MAX: I think now he is more focused on winning every race, not that he wasn’t before. But because maybe he knows that every race matters more now. You hope that the others around you will not be too reckless so that you can go home after the race.

EXT. CIRCUIT OF THE AMERICAS — MIDDAY

TEXT ON SCREEN: 2025 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Hey, welcome back Danny!

DANIEL: Thank you, thank you. Hope you didn’t miss my handsome face too much.

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: I didn’t know Jake went on holiday!

DANIEL: I’m gonna crash the car just for that.

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #2: No, we’re just kidding. So how’s the baby?

DANIEL: She’s great, do you wanna see a photo?

RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Oh, she’s adorable. Matilda was her name?

DANIEL: Yeah, yeah. We had a list but I think Matilda was the only one that stood out to us. She just looks like a Matilda you know?

///

The camera swings to the right, as Daniel’s head sticks out from the door.

DANIEL RICCIARDO: You aren’t talking shit about me, Maxy?

MAX VERSTAPPEN: Of course I am.

///

MAX: I have raced with Daniel in every single year of F1. I think it will be weird.

DANIEL RICCIARDO I think I was a pretty good darn car mechanic.

CUT: Max’s interview with GQ

WHY: If you haven’t learnt by now, I am very lazy. Honestly, I just wanted this chapter out and I knew I didn’t have the time to write a whole article. Also I don’t think Max would be this open about this relationship but maybe Daniel made him more open in this universe. I still stand by the first sentence, it is possibly the truest thing to come out of the fic.

You can’t talk about Max Verstappen without eventually talking about Daniel Ricciardo, and you can’t talk about Daniel Ricciardo without eventually talking about Max Verstappen. This was a true statement in the earlier part of Verstappen’s career, but now perhaps even more so. “He’s made me a much better person,” Verstappen comments when I ask him about his husband. “I maybe wasn’t the best person to be teammates with when I was first in Formula 1, but he stayed friends with me. Even after he left and I was not being nice to him, he still stayed. That was very important to me.”

There’s a certain aura of happiness that comes from Verstappen when he starts talking about Ricciardo, and he says it’s probably one of the most documented love stories of F1.

It started in the early morning after the final race of the 2018 season, and a drunk voicemail to Ricciardo kicked things off. “I was still mad that he was going, and I had too many gin and tonics and I called him at like 12 am or something. Obviously he didn’t answer because he was sleeping but I said really embarrassing stuff in that voicemail.” He left one more a couple hours later, asking Ricciardo not to mention it.

“He really took that to heart.” Verstappen laughs. “I don’t really know why, we would talk when we saw each other on race weekends and pretend that everything was fine between us.”

They were seemingly friends only when it was the race weekend, but off track they had never been further apart. There was a lot of resentment and unsaid conversation from Verstappen’s side, self proclaiming that his stubbornness had put a pin in their relationship. “It’s easy to say now looking back, but I thought Daniel leaving Red Bull was also leaving me. And I didn’t take it well.”

But a little bit of push and shove from his fellow friends made him realise that having Ricciardo in his life was more important than whatever feelings he had towards him leaving.

///

Verstappen proposed two years later in December 2022 at that same house. “Coordinates of the house and everything on the ring,” Ricciardo comments when he drops in to grab something from the office. “Cried like a baby when I realised.”

Deleted Epilogue:

WHY: I still can’t decide if Matilda would go down the F1 path. If she did, she is definitely a Ferrari driver. Just to mess with her dads. I think she would sign with Red Bull in the junior seasons, maybe do two seasons with Red Bull then switch to Ferrari. A Sebastian Vettel if you will…let’s hope it turns out better for her than him.

[Photo 1: A Ferrari car crossing the chequered flag.

Photo 2: Matilda on the third step of the podium, holding the trophy in the air, the Australian flag wrapped around her shoulders.]

Photo 3: Matilda hugging her parents in parc ferme.]

Liked by danielricciardo and others

mvr one home race down 🇦🇺, one more to go 🇳🇱 😉

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scuderiaferrari 👏🎉

23 March

—

SKY SPORTS: 2048 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX

David CROFT: And Matilda Verstappen-Ricciardo absolutely sends it down the inside and makes it stick, and what a move! Gosh, I was not expecting her to pull it off but she absolutely does and gets a roar of a cheer from the home crowd, Verstappen-Ricciardo is currently in P3.

Jenson BUTTON: I mean, we should not be surprised. Daughter of Max Verstappen, a six time World Champion and Daniel Ricciardo, another World Champion. A lot of racing talent in that family, I thought the last of the late breakers was Daniel but she has really put a new meaning on late!

DC: And speaking of there is Max and Daniel Verstappen-Ricciardo, who I imagine are probably the most nervous parents in the paddock right now! A lovely nod and clap of encouragement as we watch the reaction of Matilda’s overtake for P3.

—

matilda verstappen-ricciardo @/MVR

if you’re wondering if it’s embarrassing to have your parents show up at work to congratulate you just wait till one of them interviews you in front of the tv…. thanks dad i’ve never felt so uncool before

138 replies 98 reposts 20,482 likes

—

POST RACE: PARC FERME INTERVIEW

Daniel RICCIARDO: Matilda!

Matilda VERSTAPPEN-RICCIARDO: Oh my god, please be cool about this.

DR: Just wait till I convince F1 to let me and Max double host it.

MVR: This is actually my worst nightmare. Like maybe three other people will understand what I’m feeling right now.

DR:

///

MVR: I mean I’m not worried about a legacy, if people think I’m here to start or continue a legacy then they can think that, but I’m here to race. Not carry on whatever my parents did.

#maxiel #glitter on the floor #candle wax and polaroids verse

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thelonesomequeen · 5 months

Note

Can I just give a big Thank You to you ladies!? ❤️ Honestly. Thanks for being the only blog left with rational discourse rather than projection, hate, delusion. Sent in an ask a while back trying to change the convo to talk about my favorite Chris movies & his acting, but I think it got buried in the avalanche you get. This used to be fun when I needed a mental break from work. I have no idea what the heck has happened to this fandom and don’t remember it being this bats**t insane. Are there too many terminally online people with no real human connections in the real world?! Alba looks freaking gorgeous in that photo. Not a fan of that ring. Could care less about her. Happy for Chris. The man has been talking about a marriage & family for a damn decade. Good for him. Not my life. Come for me! I’m more upset that Red One isn’t coming out right now. Whoever needs to hear this: YOU DO NOT AND WILL NEVER KNOW EITHER OF THESE PEOPLE, FAMILY, OR FRIENDS. They share things, and the rest is you filling in the blanks based on your own irrational nonsense. Life is short, if you want to spend most it dissecting & hating on the relationship of complete strangers… I feel really bad for you. Harsh, but needed to get it out there… sorry! 😣

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moonagedaydream345 · 1 year

Text

Dear Reggie,

I love you.

It feels a bit stupid writing it in a letter if I’m honest, but maybe I’ll give it to you one day, who knows?

It doesn’t make it any less true though. I love you Regulus, I think I always have, and I know I always will.

I grew up with delusions of grandeur, that I would find a great love that would rival those of the storybooks. My parents were the blueprint for a happy marriage. I had to watch your brother find his soulmate at the age of eleven, they didn’t know until much later, but it was always there.

It wasn’t fair really. I would try, Merlin knows I tried, but there wasn’t anyone out there for me. I know this sounds tacky, we are talking about when I was twelve, who decides to resign themselves to being alone forever at twelve?

If I’m honest, I never intended to fall in love with you. I think that’s why what we had was so beautiful. It was organic and natural. I wanted to help you, to make sure you knew you could leave the house that caused my best friend, and you, so much pain. But you swept me away, completely and utterly. That's another thing that wasn’t fair.

Regulus Black, from the moment I laid eyes on you I was completely enthralled. You were like a breath of fresh air, the only breaths I was willing to take were the ones in your presence. They were clean, exhilarating. Sending a rush straight through me, from the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my soul. Something I never knew I needed, but as soon as I got a taste, could never live without.

You, my love, are the precious few weeks when October melts into November. The crisp welcoming of a cold morning, the crunch of leaves beneath your feet. The excitement of halloween and the tranquillity that comes after. I could get all sappy, compare your eyes to the clouds that gather in the sky when the rain falls. Not that misty shit either, proper rain, the rain you love. The type where it drums on the window whilst you sit next to it, book in hand. I could do a multitude of embarrassing things, Reg, and I’d be willing to do so, because it would all be for you.

I’ve always struggled, I suppose. I love my friends, I truly do, I wouldn’t change them for the world. But being their rock, their emotional support, wasn’t isn’t easy. I don’t mind it, I love helping them, making them feel more like themselves and less like their issues. But the feeling of obligation, the feeling that if I wasn’t their support then I was nothing, you took that from me. I may have been their rock, but you Reg, you were the mountain that held me. You eased my burdens when I was so concerned with everyone else's, and for that I thank you.

I’d like to think I eased a couple of yours too, but even if I didn’t, I’d be ok if I knew you had taken comfort in the help you gave me. I always admired that about you, the ability to help whilst remaining totally oblivious to the fact. It’s always been so conscious for me, when I was helping I knew I was helping. There was a part of my brain reminding me that I was in fact fixing a problem. I don’t think you have that voice Reg, and for that I am immensely jealous.

You hurt me. You really, truly did. I’m not sure why, when or how you decided I wasn’t enough for you anymore, but it really fucking hurt. I’m sorry. I am so sorry that you are now stuck there, that I couldn’t get you out. I blame myself, it has to be my fault in some way.

It doesn’t matter though, I promise. I forgive you, I’ll learn to forgive you. And I hope one day you may forgive me too. None of the past will ever cross our minds, because I’ll have you back in my arms. You’ll lay your head in my lap, like you used to, and fall asleep while I thread flowers through your hair. It will be perfect because it will be us.

The delusions of grandeur never left, Reggie, they never left at all. They became real instead. The dreams I had compiled, late night dates and silent kisses, they all came true. They weren’t unattainable anymore, because I was in love with you, I think I still am. I had always beat myself up over it, over being too much, too loud, too annoying. Stressed over having to be the best version of myself, the need to be happy enough that I made up for the cruelty this world has to offer. You saw past all of that. I know you roll your eyes at me, a lot, but it never quite followed through. There was always a smile hidden, one I would give anything to see now, to kiss onto your face one last time.

It’s funny, we’re written in the stars, you and I. Regulus is the heart of the lion, and that couldn’t be more accurate. You are my heart, Reggie. You are my heart, my soul and my world. Soon enough, you’ll be my love once more.

Then, now, and forever yours,

Jamie.

#james potter x regulus black #break up #jegulus #fic: regrets and reconciliations #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fanfic #angst #dead gay wizards #marauders #marauders era #james potter #regulus black #love letters

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free-for-all-fics · 5 months

Text

Captain Louis Renault Prompt! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🃏🤍🎰

You’re forced to go with your husband to Rick’s Café Américain, what he claims is a nice upscale restaurant to treat you to a romantic dinner date. You should’ve known it’s actually an expensive and chic nightclub where illicit activity such as gambling, extortion, and shady and underhanded dealings on the black market occur. It definitely possesses an air of sophistication and intrigue, you can at least say that. You should’ve known that your husband would lie to you. You wish you could say you still love him, but your marriage is lacking in more than just intimacy. Your honeymoon phase ended long before you went on your actual honeymoon. The unbridled passion and spontaneity your love once had is long gone and there’s just no spark anymore. It dimmed until it blinked out of existence and your husband hasn’t made much of an effort, if any, to reignite it. The connection you may have once had has been severed and you feel like you’re alone rather than in a partnership.

You work so hard and for such long hours that you often retire to bed early and are asleep by the time your husband comes home most nights, if he comes home at all. He’s a womanizing drunkard with a gambling addiction and often makes high risk bets and wagers to impress the beautiful ladies and wealthy gentlemen around the table, no matter how dangerous they are. He’s a real gambler who makes bets on anything. You should’ve known that that would include you sooner or later. Captain Louis Renault is playing a table stakes game with him and he can tell immediately that this young man is not only a compulsive gambler, but a degenerate one. Though your husband swears to you and anyone willing to listen that he’s not a degenerate, he’s a professional who’s just having a streak of bad luck. You’ve heard it all many, many times, and you’re sick of the excuses.

Clouds of smoke swirl around the gambling room. Captain Renault looks down at his cards while glancing at your husband out of the corner of his eye. Your husband’s lips twitch, a tiny grimace before he catches himself and tries to mimic the players around him and display an expressionless mask of impassivity. But it’s already too late. That brief slip, that little tell, is all Louis needs. While he’s an exceptionally talented and well-practiced liar, your husband isn’t. No matter how hard he tries, the man is gullible and naive, and can’t maintain a convincing poker face to save his life. Your husband’s also just a second-rate card player anyway. Despite his delusions about his ability and skill level, the reality is that he’s just not a very good player. Louis knows that he could win even without fixing the game so, in a rare instance, he decides he doesn’t need to cheat this time around because winning fairly will be much more satisfying.

He watches your husband’s eyes flit up and to the left, trying to subtly glance at you while you’re sitting alone at the bar. You’re engaged in polite conversation with Sacha, but you’re bored and miserable. You wish you were anywhere but here. He follows your husband’s eyes and, once he spots you, he takes notice of what’s happening and has an epiphany. Ah, yes. The heart is the most vulnerable spot for most men. Louis is not most men, though. Instead he can employ alternative, more inconspicuous methods to win without cheating. It will require much more work on his part, but the payoff will be all the more satisfying when he inevitably comes out on top. The game he plays with your husband is a long con, but it’ll be absolutely worth it in the end. You’ll see.

Unbeknownst to either you or your husband, the real game has just begun. Captain Renault uses people to create his own entertainment sometimes and your husband just so happens to be the perfect target. He starts some playful banter with your husband, mentioning you vaguely and asking questions about you to either distract him or get him worked up in order to subtly goad him into making a mistake, masking it as just some casual back and forth between hands. He knows your husband’s insecure and any slight towards his pride or masculinity will be his downfall. He retrieves a fresh cigarette from a small box in his uniform’s breast pocket, chain-lighting it with his old one. He takes a drag and tilts his head, blowing the smoke in your husband’s face. It’s definitely a total accident and in no way an intentional display of power or dominance. If your husband is brave enough to accuse him, the Prefect of Police, of doing it on purpose, Captain Renault has believable deniability. But your husband is a coward, so he says nothing. Even if he wants to, he can’t speak for a few moments because he’s coughing up a storm, trying to clear his throat and wave the smoke away with the hand that’s not holding his cards. The brandy only burns his throat and does nothing to soothe it as he gulps it down to steady his nerves.

Hours pass. All of the other players have folded and left the game, either going to the cashier to cash out and collect their winnings or to the bar to get a much needed drink to numb the sting of losing their money. One of the previous players was practically a whale, and Captain Renault and your husband took him for a lot of money. He was the last person to leave the table, wishing them both a goodnight. Now it’s just down to the two of them. Your husband smiles exuberantly after the man has gone, his eyes lighting up. He thinks he’s just so lucky and so skilled, that his bad streak has finally ended, totally unaware Captain Renault has been playing him this entire time. Louis offhandedly corrects your husband and tells him that he took most of it, since he’s older and much more experienced in the game. Unbeknownst to your husband, he’s not just referring to poker. As if it’s an afterthought, he pats your husband on the shoulder consolingly and tells him he didn’t do too badly either. Your husband scoffs, convinced it was him that won that money. He wants to go again, but Louis feigns wanting to put a rain check on it and scoots his chair back from the table, making as if he’s getting up to leave. Your husband stops him, just like Louis knew he would.

“What's the matter, Captain? Are you scared?”

Louis smirks as he sits back down and pulls a fresh cigarette from his pocket. He tells Leon, the dealer, “Open up a fresh pack, would you?”

More hours pass. You’re not sure exactly how many, but it’s either very late or very early, depending on how you look at it. Either way, you’ve had more than enough of Rick’s for tonight. You tell your husband in no uncertain terms that you’re going home and there’s nothing he can say or do to convince you to stay another minute. You’re calling a taxi and it’s up to him if he chooses to leave with you or not. He promises he’s almost done and will be home shortly, but the look in your eyes conveys that you don’t believe him. When he’d lie to you and neglect you like this, you’d usually be angry, disappointed, or sad. Usually it was a combination of all three. But you’re too tired to care. Not just physically due to him dragging you here on false promises and making you stay for hours and hours, but mentally and emotionally as well. Your husband doesn’t see any of it since he barely looks at you, too immersed in the game to even spare you a glance. He doesn’t even kiss you or tell you he loves you. But Louis knows a thing or two about women, and he can see every layer of your suffering that you’ve endured while married to this loser. The hurt, the exhaustion, the loneliness, all of it. He knows that you know your husband is lying, since you don’t even bother to wait up for him. You deserve better. So much better.

“So I have to win this hand to stay in, huh?”

“Uh, I guess you do.”

He wasn’t going to cheat. He really wasn’t, but seeing you so neglected and miserable has now made Louis mad at your husband and he’s changed his mind. The boy has been taking you for granted and needs to be taught a lesson. Rick would probably appreciate that he doesn’t have to resort to violence to get his point across. He gets up to get another glass of brandy, discreetly placing an ice cube under an empty glass. When the ice melts, causing the glass to conveniently fall and make a loud noise as it shatters, it distracts your husband as he looks over his shoulder. Louis gives Leon a look and the dealer knows what he wants him to do. He discreetly reshuffles the cards in the deck to be in Louis’ favor while your husband isn’t paying attention. To avoid raising suspicion, he places a nice low bet to make his opponent more comfortable and give him a false sense of security. Your husband discards one of his cards, giving it back to Leon face down. Leon deals your husband a new card. Louis discards two cards and Leon deals him two new cards. Your husband gives Louis a look that could almost be considered smug as he moves his cards around.

“That good, huh? Oh, wow. That good.”

“That good. I can't lose.”

That’s it. Louis has him. “Well, it's a shame you got nothing to bet with. What's the bet, kid?”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Your husband takes out your meager but hard earned savings. Unbeknownst to you, he stole it out from under you, convinced you’d never notice because he’d win it all back and a little extra. “The bet, Captain Renault, is this. I’m all in,” he states confidently as he slides all of his chips into the pot. Louis sees him, sliding the equal value of chips into the pot.

Your husband puts down his cards, confident he’ll win this showdown. Too confident. “You should trust me when I tell you things. I told you I couldn't lose. Four kings!”

“That's pretty. Not as pretty as this.” Louis lays down his cards, fanning them out on the table. “Straight flush.”

“No.” Your husband’s face immediately falls as he feels a pit form in his stomach.

“Yes.” Louis nods with a smile.

“That's impossible.” He tries to grab for his - your money, but Leon stops him by grabbing his wrist.

“His pot.” Leon’s voice is stern, as if warning your husband not to start a scene here. Rick doesn’t like disturbances in his place. This isn’t always an honest place, but Rick has made an arrangement with Captain Renault. He’d turn a blind eye to the fixed games and pay Louis in bribes and, in exchange, Louis and his administration would permit his establishment to remain open. This is still unoccupied France and any violation of neutrality, including any physical altercations in public, would reflect on Captain Renault. Your husband has two options: He can either keep a cool head or get out.

“That’s my pot.” Louis cleans him out and gets up from the table to cash in his chips at the cashier window, but your husband won’t quit. He wants to keep playing, claiming he wants a chance to win back what he lost. He needs the money for two exit visas, or at least one for you. If there was only an exit visa for one of you, he’d want you to take it even if it meant he’d have to stay behind and remain in Casablanca. It all sounds very selfless, very noble, but Captain Renault knows that’s not exactly the truth behind his motives. Meanwhile, when you get back to your place, you immediately fall asleep when your head hits the pillow, blissfully unaware of what your husband has done. The ramifications of his actions will come back to bite you, but you don’t know it yet.

Your husband offers to play roulette with Louis the next night as a best two out of three, an all or nothing gamble. But he's got no collateral of monetary value, and Louis doesn’t trust him for an I.O.U., so he says he'll put up you, his wife, against the money he lost. The sexual favors of his wife as collateral on a roulette game? Is that a serious offer? Louis takes him up on it after your husband affirms it’s indeed a serious offer and he won’t back out if he loses. Even if he loses, he swears he’ll make good on his bet and hold up his end of the bargain. Captain Renault has been with many beautiful young women in his lifetime, having gone through them faster than cigarettes. While acting as Prefect of Police in Casablanca, he’s embraced the corruption and vice that comes with his police uniform, rounding up twice the number of usual suspects just to impress his superiors, taking winnings from fixed games, and exchanging exit visas for sexual favors, whether the women are married or not. You’re very attractive and he’d even go so far as to say you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in Casablanca.

You’re clearly suffering from a severe lack of love and intimacy in your marriage. Louis, who is usually selfish and acts out of self-interest, caring only about chasing his own pleasure and personal gain, has a sudden change of heart when it comes to you. You’ve probably gotten more than enough of that self-serving behavior from your husband. When he wins again, which he knows he inevitably will, he’s going to make the time you spend together all about you. He’s going to focus only on what you want. He’s determined to be the best intimate partner you’ve ever had and provide both you and himself with mutual sexual gratification. Going beyond just physical pleasure, his motivations are intimately connected to his desire to greatly improve your mental and emotional well-being.

The next night, your husband is gambling against Captain Renault again, this time trying his luck at the roulette table. You believe he’s trying to win enough for your exit visas, unaware that he’s lost everything. Well, of course, he's losing. He’s looking tense as he glances up at Captain Renault, then down at the chips in his hand. He places his chips on eighteen. Twenty-two, black, twenty-two. A winner. Emil, the croupier, pushes a pile of chips toward Louis. Louis leans back in his chair and purses his lips and clicks his tongue at your husband as he takes a drag of his cigarette. “Oh, that’s too bad. Looks like Lady Luck isn’t treating you very well.”

You take notice of what’s happening from your vantage point at a nearby table. You get up to stand behind your husband with your hand on his shoulder as you follow the game’s proceedings, worried. You wish he’d stop, but he doesn’t. The wheel stops spinning. Twenty-two, black, twenty-two. A winner. He has only three chips left and seems bewildered. Louis glances around the rest of the men and women placing their bets with a mixture of stoicism and amusement, but his gaze is locked on you throughout the game. You deserve better than your pathetic husband, and he wants to show you real love, real pleasure. You married such a boy. In many ways you’re so much older than he is. Louis, on the other hand, wants to show you everything a real man can give you.

Emil pushes an additional pile of chips towards Captain Renault but, in a surprise twist, he reaches for the chips he had previously placed on twenty-two and moves them all to eighteen. He gets into your husband’s head and manipulates him into trying his luck on twenty-two. After all, it’s been extremely lucky so far. Just look at how much he has won from it! Your husband hesitates. He withdraws his hands from the table, as if he’s going to walk away now, but then he pauses and decides against it. He puts his last remaining chips on twenty-two. Louis and Emil make eye contact. The croupier understands what the captain wants him to do, lest he suddenly find a reason to close down Rick’s establishment.

Emil spins the wheel. You follow the proceedings, sick with nerves and dread. Nobody speaks while the wheel spins. It stops. Eighteen, red, eighteen. A winner. Naturally, Captain Renault beats him again since, unbeknownst to you, your husband, or anyone else playing roulette, it’s a fixed game. But hey, a bet’s a bet. Your husband goes white as a sheet and begins to sweat as Louis chuckles, the low sound making the other men straighten in their chairs. He gets up from the table to cash in his chips, but he’s most excited to cash you in. Your husband stands up so quickly and with so much force that his chair falls over with a loud thud. He runs over to Captain Renault, falling to his knees. "Captain Renault, please don't take her. I beg you, please don’t! I'll get the money and I’ll pay you for our exit visas, I swear I will."

Louis looks down with disinterest, patting the pathetic man on the shoulder similar to how he did before, in mock consolation. Your husband can’t make eye contact, so Louis leans down to whisper in his ear so nobody else can hear except you. He wants not only your husband to hear every word of what he has to say, but you as well. "You shouldn't have offered up that sweet little wife of yours in the first place. Usually I’d commend a man for having less scruples than I but, in this rare instance, I can’t bring myself to. Flawed human beings as we are, we all have our vices. Some of those vices are harder to control or take in moderation, and we tend to overindulge. For you, it’s gambling. For me, it’s beautiful young women such as your wife. I may be just a poor official, but I know a thing or two about women and you don’t deserve your wife, dear boy. That’s what you are - a boy. You may possess the body of a man, but your brain and your heart are still that of an immature and frightened little child who can’t look beyond his own nose to see the world around him or those he’s hurt. You still have a lot of growing up to do, but don't you dare think for one moment I will let you continue to rob this beautiful young woman of a pleasurable marriage bed or the chance to, God willing, bear her own children, if she so wishes. I don’t care so much about the money, but I’m going to do my duty to rectify your mistakes and show your wife the love and intimacy you’ve neglected to give her for years.” Once he’s done giving his little speech, he stands up straight and smooths out the wrinkles in his uniform. "Ladies, gentlemen, it's been fun, but I have a date," he announces, standing up and holding out his arm to you.

Words cannot describe the plethora of volatile emotions you’re going through. You’re so angry and disappointed in your husband that he’d practically sell you. Your husband tries to implore you to forgive him, but you explain that, while you once loved him, the years of hurt and neglect have killed that love. You loved him but you couldn't let him know it. He’s so brutal to those who love him. You, believing your husband has never loved you and will jump at the chance to betray and hurt you again, become apathetic and indifferent to his declarations to the contrary. His words and entreaties, even in this moment of desperation, feel like more empty promises and they do nothing to sway or move you. You’ve given him so many chances, far too many. You’re done waiting for him to treat you as you deserve to be treated and to see your worth.

There’s an old saying, “never gamble more than you can afford to lose”. Your husband didn’t take that advice when he should’ve. Tired of it all, you walk out of your marriage. You trade your engagement and wedding rings to Captain Renault to pay for your exit visa, but tell him that you now want to sleep with him out of spite against your now ex-husband. Your husband is dead to you. Filing for and finalizing your divorce is just a legal formality you’ll deal with later. Stepping around the sniveling man, you leave together and don’t look back. Louis picks up his coat and tosses it over your shoulders like a gentleman as you stroll out the saloon, arm in arm. He opens the passenger door of his car for you and drives you to his place. Your ex-husband tries to run after you but you just tell Louis to speed up and leave him in the dust, watching as he gets smaller and smaller until he gives up on running and collapses to his knees in the middle of the road. Louis can smell the traces of your French perfume and it takes so much self-control not to just pull over and take you in the backseat.

When you’re finally alone in his apartment, he closes the door behind him. You open your mouth to speak, but Louis places his finger on your lips. "Let’s be clear, my dear. Despite the bets that were made, you don’t belong to me. What transpired five minutes ago may have given you the impression that I’m cut from the same cloth as your ex-husband. I’ll admit that, in many ways, I’m no better than him. I’m not a virgin nor a saint, and my intentions aren’t exactly pure or lacking ulterior motives. I want more than anything to prove to you that you’re not an object to be possessed and discarded, and I want to do it the best way I know how. I want you to enjoy yourself just as much as I will, if not more, but you’re under no obligation to go through with this. I’m not going to force myself on you. I may be a corrupt official, but even I have standards. You can walk away now or you can give yourself to me. Whatever you decide, you’ve already paid the price by giving me your rings. If you choose the former, I’ll furnish you with an exit visa and you can be on the next plane to Lisbon by tomorrow. You’ll never see me again. But if you choose the latter, I’m going to enjoy myself immensely as I give you everything your former husband never could. I may find myself wanting to keep you for longer than just this one night.”

You appreciate him for giving you a choice and the opportunity to back out, but you made your decision from the moment you took his hand and walked out of Rick’s with him. You haven’t changed your mind. You not only want this, you need this. Louis is so much older than you, so much older than your ex, and he possesses a wisdom that could only have come from his decades of experience in France and Casablanca. He’s gotten around both in the streets and in the sheets. You’d even go so far as to say he’s much more handsome and has greater sex appeal than your husband. Sauntering around his apartment, you take in your surroundings before you sit on the edge of the couch and hike up your skirt and unbutton your blouse.

Through body language alone, you make it clear that you don’t want him to touch you just yet, you want him to watch. Louis just stands there as you strip ever so slowly. While you tease him, he clenches and unclenches his fists as if he wants to grab you. Patience is a virtue he doesn’t often possess. When you finally crook your index finger at him, that’s all the invite he needs. You grab his necktie and pull him in to kiss you. Maybe he can use said necktie to bind your wrists together, but that’s an idea you’ll share with him for next time because there most definitely will be a next time. Neither of you want this to be a one and done type of thing. He and you are so eager and excited that you accidentally knock objects off his coffee table as you haphazardly take the rest of your clothes off. He encourages you to lay down, kissing up your legs until he reaches your thighs. His breath is so warm that it makes you shiver with anticipation. He pauses there for a few moments, as if waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t.

You’ve been so touch starved for far too long. His mustache tickles your inner thighs and you can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. Louis laughs along with you, asking if you’re ticklish. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye, as if he’s going to use this fact against you later to make you laugh more often. And then his tongue… Oh, God, his tongue! He’s amazing in bed, the best you’ve ever had. Even though the “bed” is actually a couch since neither of you could make it to the bedroom. The rare times you were intimate with your ex, he never satisfied you. He only focused on himself and left you high and dry after he decided he was done.

Louis, on the other hand, knows how to please a woman and has incredible stamina. You never knew men did this sort of thing. Your ex never did it to you, but you’re not going to spare him another thought. Especially not while Louis is spoiling you like this. You grip his hair or his hand, needing to hold onto something to keep yourself grounded because you feel like you’re floating or seeing stars. While he feasts on you like a man starved, you crave his touch more than anything. You need him closer. So much closer. There in his apartment, Louis takes what’s owed to him by giving you everything that’s owed to you. On the couch, in his bed, against the wall, wherever you want him he’s yours. You’re in control and he’ll do anything you ask him to. He jokes that, as Prefect of Police, it’s his duty to be at your service and to protect you from anyone and anything.

It surprisingly doesn’t take very long after that night for you to fall in love again. You’d thought that you’d need more time to grieve your first marriage and to heal the wounds it left within you, but maybe you’d been grieving for years without fully realizing it because you already feel like you’re ready to date again, even before your divorce is finalized, and you don’t feel a twinge of guilt about it. Ever since the first time you’d been intimate, he’s insisted you drop the formality of calling him by his rank and instead call him by his name. He’s no longer Captain Renault to you, he’s simply Louis. Your Louis. You become his girlfriend but, unlike all the other women he’s slept with, he’s seriously in love with you. He wants to date you properly and show you just how much of a romantic he is. Over the course of your relationship he shows you everything you’ve been missing. But beyond the incredible sex, he treats you with the love and respect you’ve craved for so long. He listens to you, really listens to you and looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. You’re more than just his girlfriend or bed warmer. You’re his best friend, his partner, and closest confidante. He’s the same to you.

After Victor Laszlo successfully escapes Casablanca and boards the plane to Lisbon with his wife, Ilsa, Louis tells you and Rick that there’s a Free French garrison in Brazzaville and he may be induced to secure a passage. Louis will pay your expenses with both the money he won from your ex-husband and the ten thousand francs he owes Rick for losing the bet on whether or not Laszlo would escape. Though really, the money he won from gambling belongs to you, so think of him providing the letters of transit as just another way of him giving back to you. Together the three of you embark on a new journey, leaving behind Casablanca for good. Together you walk off into the night fog and make plans to head to a fort to end your time on the fringes of World War II. While Rick and Louis plan to join the fight, maybe you can become a war nurse.

Though you’re heading into danger and the unknown, you’re with people that you trust. It’s a triumphant moment for all of you and an uplifting end to this chapter of your lives. For Rick and Louis, this is the start of a beautiful friendship. For you and Louis, it’s the start of a beautiful romance. You’re not eager to marry again so soon and Louis knows this. You both know that you’ll marry eventually, probably after the war is over and the dust has settled, but you can still enjoy a long engagement in the meantime. The money Louis will get when he sells your engagement and wedding rings should be enough for him to buy you new ones. Louis is determined to get you rings that suit both you and him, so much so that he may just let you pick out whichever rings you want. While Louis will be your second husband, you want him to be your last. You know this is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

#captain Renault x reader #Louis Renault x reader #captain Louis Renault x reader #captain renault #louis renault #casablanca #fic prompt #fic idea #pls tag me if you’re inspired by this #I’d love to read it

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ironmansbay · 9 months

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@girlmadeofclockwork (sorry this is a sideblog so i can’t reply without revealing my main -_-*) but YEAH like i don’t think it was ever seen as a materially necessary move (sansa and tyrion weren’t either, like it DID “help” the war effort to legally join their families but that was just formalized emotional abuse targeted at both parties at its core, which is part of why i ALSO love your Aegon delusion lol) and it was more like “well there’s a spare girl. who’s gonna marry her. Larys is here I guess.” The emotional content i’m tangoing with here though is that:

This action robs Larys of control and privacy over major aspects of his life, which he definitely resents for normal reasons (and sadist torture man reasons)

There is going to be a wedding, and this wedding is going to have witnesses. Going back to ASOS again; it’s not hard to imagine what kinds of humiliation await, and Larys strikes me as a kind of proud guy.

Sex is going to be expected in the immediate aftermath. I could write a whole essay on why this is mortifying for both. Again: see ASOS.

Basically there’s no real avenue in this where Larys isn’t going to come off as laughable/disgusting/both, and he already deals with that so much, especially in the context of women and sex if the Bad Scene™️ implies what i think it does (I’m definitely giving the writers too much credit but shhhhh,) that I feel like there’s decades of him building marriage up as a final, fatal indignity, and while I doubt very much it was the DECIDING factor in what ends up going down (because I have my own delusional thoughts about that lol,) it may have pushed him a little further in that direction.

TL;DR, I think Larys looked at his options, saw that he was being bottlenecked into the role of “agéd disabled ugly husband to beautiful young suffering virgin, poor girl” and all the humiliation and pain that entailed, and that combined with a lot of other factors made him decide that he was going to be remembered for something completely different, for something he chose.

#text #hotd #(i hope so. anyway.)#(my nightmare is that he just gets bamboozled and his hand is forced in some way)#S2s not even out yet i need to relax #book spoilers

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practicalmagicintuitions · 9 months

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I know divorce rates are very high in celebrity marriages, it’s part of the culture.

But why do celebrities who have been dating for more than 5 years let’s say decide to get married and then after the marriage, we hear about a divorce.

They were basically married but without the legal papers, and once they sign them, they realize this isn’t working! I never understood this.

I don’t understand this either, my guess is one of them is pushing the marriage and after it’s done, the other realize “shit, this is real, I don’t want this” and they get bitter and then divorce.

Believe your partner when they say they don’t want marriage/ kids and if it’s a dealbreaker to you, move on. Don’t have the delusion they will change for you and to be honest don’t be that egoistical and selfish that you expect them to change and give up their integrity for you. People cannot be forced to have or don’t have a kid for maintain a relationship. I know it can be heartbreaking but if you cannot say yes or no to those with all of your heart, both you just have to move on. The only famous couple I have in my mind now is Alan Rickman and his wife. He said he wanted a child but her wife didn’t and he accepted that. And they we’re together until his death. It could work this way too, but in my opinion this is a rarity.

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goldenmusicmoments · 2 years

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A Thought Piece On Kanye West:

Kanye West has as of late been going down a downwards spiral. He is in dire need of an intervention or else he’ll no longer have a chance to redeem himself. With the demise of his marriage and the impact it has had on him, he seems to have lost the plot and isn’t thinking in a sane manner. We know he suffers from mental health issues and that he refuses to take medication, as he sees it as a superpower. It is a positive thing to see the things often regarded as negatives, as devices of empowerment. However you have to also be realistic and know that it is important to treat something that if left alone can have harmful implications on not only yourself but those around you as well.

Kanye has been airing his marriage issues and disagreements he’s been having with his now ex-wife Kim Kardashian on social media. He doesn’t agree with her decision when it comes to their kids or who she involves herself with. He seems to forget that the children are not only his, but Kim’s as well and thus both of them should find a way to work together amicably to raise their kids the best they can. He fails to realise the implications his outbreaks on social media have on his kids, so how does he then expect himself to be taken seriously and seen as the caring or responsible parent he claims he is. Taking it back to his mental illness and failure to treat it, that in itself will act as a vehicle that will keep him away from his kids. He needs to heal and the only way that will happen is if his team and close ones are real with him. Rather than adding to his delusions.

He one minute claims he wants to reconcile and work things out with Kim so that they can get back to being a family again and then is off dating Julia Fox. Who it was obvious he had no true intentions with and was using her as a way to make Kim jealous. They did end up breaking up just before Valentine’s Day and he then went on to send Kim a truck full of roses on Valentine’s Day. He must have not got the reaction he desired and then was spotted with a Kim lookalike. This further adding to him being all over the place. He then didn’t agree with Kim seeing Pete Davidson, neither was he happy with the idea of Pete being around his kids. He claimed that Kim was shutting him out and not letting him be there for their kids on their key occasions like birthdays. Although that was later disproven.

He went on many rants around his kids, Kim and his distaste for Pete on Instagram. Then he cleared his instagram account of all those posts and claimed he wasn’t behind any of it. When in fact he himself had posted proof to let people know that he was the mind behind the outbursts. Which in turn made him look even worse and again he put forward the notion that all he wants is for him, Kim and the kids to be reunited as one again. At around the same time he was releasing ‘Donda 2’ and it was apparent now that it was more of a PR stunt than anything in order to generate buzz around his latest release. He’d done the same during the release of ‘Donda’ when he had created a ‘beef’ with Drake. When in reality there really wasn’t one and after the release of both their new albums, the two ended up performing together and were back to being friends.

He then released a music video for one of the songs from ‘Donda 2’ in which he beheads and buries a man. The man seemed to resemble Pete Davidson, Kanye had made threats towards Pete prior to the video release. Thus it was easy for everyone to put two and two together. Kanye then claimed that it was artistic expression and nothing of malicious intent. That it had no link to Pete whatsoever. However even with all that ‘Donda 2’ failed to make much noise, even though he decided to release the album exclusively on Stem Player and claiming he’d managed to make $2.2m from sales within 24 hours of release. The album drew more negative criticism than positive. His personal outbreaks completely overshadowed the album and on top of that the quality of his work as a recording artist declined.

His fans just like him seem to be as delusional as always. Fans often seem to take after those they idolise. They’ll praise him regardless of his music going downhill along with him. Still claim he is a genius, and even if he was a genius that was in the past. He has proven to be a great artist who’s talent when it comes to production in particular, which has always stood out. However he seems to be losing it, as his attention has drifted off elsewhere. The delusion him, his team and his fans hold is rather having a detrimental outcome. Everyone needs to be honest with him and he has to be real with himself as well. Only then will he return to being a worthwhile creative.

On top of that the delusion extends to such a point that his fans seem to be putting all the blame on Kim Kardashian. They use her prior divorces as a way to justify their reasonings as to why she was where the fault lay when it came to Kanye and her breaking apart. They need to remember that Kim filed for divorce not Kanye. He is the one begging for her to return to him, whilst she shows no interest whatsoever in reuniting. They claim he made her who she is. Yes he did revolutionise her fashion sense, but that was pretty much it. She was already a household name before they married. It has become a norm for his fans to credit the success of a female who’s had some sort of an encounter with him to him. We’ve seen it in the past.

To summarise Kanye West is an artist who will go down in history for releasing some of the greatest bodies of work of all time. However he is ruining that and allowing his outbursts to overshadow that to a point that, that is what will become his prominent acts he’ll end up being remembered for. Just now he supposedly has said and told Kim that he is going away to seek help. Hopefully he gets the help he is in desperate need of and once again makes his main focus his music. That he keeps his personal life private rather than airing it for the world to see. There are moments where things should be handled in private and only when you come to a place where going public is the only way to be heard then it is fine. Although it was proven that things could have been handled privately and that he was making baseless claims. Even then there is a manner in which he should have put himself forward with maturity and professionalism. He instead went down this vindictive and violent path. We’ve seen what just has happened to Will Smith and his career, that being for a small moment where he acted out in defence of his wife.

#Kanye West #Kim Kardashian #Drake #Pete Davidson #Will Smith #Yeezy #Donda #Music #Rap

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speechlessxx · 3 years

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my house of stone, your ivy grows & now i’m covered in you.

{King!Steve Rogers x noblewoman!Reader}

with a side of Prince/King!Peter Parker x Reader

ROYALTY/MEDIEVAL AU

summary -> engaged to the Prince of Arachnia, the young maiden finds her heart calling out the name of another.

warnings-> infidelity. age gap! (reader’s age isn’t explicitly said but she’s younger than Steve). poorly & awkwardly written SMUT. (includes: unprotected sex, brief fingering, slight breeding kink). rambles. angst. fluff. lots of tension. bittersweet ending :)

A/N -> for smut part, please scroll if you are not 18+. MINORS DNI

word count -> 12k+ !!! this one’s a lengthy one & i had no intentions of turning it into a series. it just got long.

Buy Me A Kofi

At the ripe age of five-years-old, you were plucked from your childhood, abandoning all the childish whims and adventures to be groomed to be the perfect wife. No more rolling in the dirt with your older brothers or mucking about the stables with the horses or fencing with sticks that substituted the steel bladed swords.

It all quickly became sewing needles and recipes, cleaning and books balanced on your crown.

You were taught it all.

How to behave. How to stand or sit. How to greet and host. How to exist in silence because “a lady is to be seen and never heard,” as your teacher, Madam Morris, would say. The many lessons were engraved into your mind while the meaningless tasks and skills became muscle memory.

Be pious. Be kind. Smile. Be what your husband wants. Laugh. (no, not like that). Do as your husband says. Be interesting but not too much. Never overshadow your husband. Don’t disappoint or you will bring shame upon your family.

What a burden to place on the shoulders of a young teen though it was expected of you. Coming from an aristocratic family, it was all you ever knew: “get a husband and make us proud”.

As the years droned on and you approached adulthood, the pressure to marry became more and more prominent. And when you shed past your teen years as an unmarried young adult, the disappointment and shame began to show. Your family throwing distaste your way with snide remarks and mocking smirks.

The embarrassment felt as if it had been painted across your cheeks and you grew restless, convincing yourself to accept any opportunities of marriage just to be rid of their cruelty.

So, when the Prince of Arachnia arrived at your father’s estate and asked for permission to court you, you had no choice but to accept.

Prince Peter Benjamin Parker was nothing short of the perfect gentleman. As you walked, he’d ensure that you were safely tucked into his side opposite of the streets. He’d hold your hand steady as you exited carriages. He’d leave chaste kisses on your forehead or knuckles – almost always on your left ring finger – even though your chaperone would throw a disapproving glance his way.

You thought of him as charming with his tousled, dark brown curls with matching eyes that squinted as he smiled or laughed harder than he intended.

“He would make a great king someday,” your father would sing his praises. “And you, my dove, will be his fine queen.”

You were never fond of these comments, never finding any appreciation or gratitude when they were uttered to you. Though the thought of being queen would make any young girl giddy with excitement, you found an odd sensation of dread within you.

You weren’t sure where the feelings had originated from. Were you nervous about being a queen? About the responsibility of running not only an estate but an entire country as well? Or was it the fact you would forever be labeled as his queen rather than the queen? Did you detest the idea of belonging to another person for the rest of your life?

“Are you alright?” His voice brought you back into the present. You swallowed as you turned away from the window facing the garden of roses that your mother was so proud of to face the prince. You curtseyed although he’s told you many times it was unnecessary.

“I’m grand,” you lied with a weary smile though he bought it all the same.

Peter grinned a toothy smile as he took your hand in his. It was then you felt the weight of the engagement ring on your finger. The sapphire blue was an oval shape, large enough to cover the skin of your knuckle. The center jewel adorned a halo of smaller diamonds. All this sitting on the delicate white gold band that wrapped around your finger like a shackle.

He brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss upon the sapphire. “I shall be counting down the days,” he whispered in the quiet room. You forced another smile and nodded.

“As will I.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

Arachnia wasn’t a large country nor was it tiny either. It had eight main roads that extended into the towns with the capital and its palace in the center. It had been said that the main roads were all equal in length so that everyone was at an equal distance from the palace though you weren’t so sure that there was truth to this. Your father’s estate sat near the south of Arachnia, in one of the nicer towns. The ride to Peter’s real home felt like an eternity.

It had been his idea, of course, that you be brought to the palace months ahead of the wedding. “Life in the castle is different to life in the towns,” he told you before, weeks into your courtship, “Everyone’s always watching.” He reasoned that the prying eyes needed to get used to the presence of his future queen, but you understood it all the same – that although it was crucial that you adjust to court, it was equally, if not more so, important that the court adjust to you.

“I will give you the grand tour,” he said as you put your head on his shoulder. The journey, although short, had picked at your energy. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep, but his excited chatter kept pulling you back into consciousness. As much as you wanted to tell him to pipe down, you knew you couldn’t. Not only was he your husband to be, but he was also your soon to be king. “There’s fountains and gardens – I had them plant roses like the ones in your mother’s – “

The words became muddled nonsense as you slowly dozed off. The journey and your sleepless night, picking at the skin on your fingers, had finally caught up to you, making your eyelids heavy with sleep.

You jolted awake as the carriage hit a bump. You and Peter’s head slammed into each other, waking you both. You groaned, rubbing the spot as he mirrored you.

“You alright?” Peter asked you. You nodded, still rubbing the spot. Peter leaned over and kissed it and you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You’ve been rather quiet. Is there something on your mind?”

You shook your head. “No, your highness,” you said. “I am just a bit nervous, is all.”

“Don’t be.” Peter chuckled. “The kingdom will fall in love with you just as I have.”

“And if they do not? Shall you find another bride?”

Peter’s smile faltered before shaking his head. “Those who do not immediately fall for my queen are mad and I shall find them the greatest court physician to treat their delusions.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You placed your head against his and took in a shaky breath.

There it was again. My queen. Another reminder that you no longer belonged to yourself. That as soon as vows are exchanged and he places another band on top of the enormous ring you already wore, you were completely his to own.

And suddenly that sweet moment, wrapped in your fiancé’s arms, was cut short as that familiar feeling of dread washed over you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

After weeks following your arrival in the center of Arachnia, it still didn’t feel like your home, rather it was Peter’s. The maids didn’t follow your orders nor did the kitchen staff. Heavens knows that the knights and the other noblemen wouldn’t acknowledge you. It felt as if no one knew your name, save for Prince Peter and his aunt, Lady May Parker.

You were merely a stranger in their court, the soon to be king’s guest.

Although the preparations for Peter’s coronation should’ve been your duty, Lady Parker seized the job, citing that you weren’t the queen just yet. “Let me alleviate you of this, Lady (Y/N).” She told you with a smile. “After your marriage, I shall step aside and allow you all the duties as the lady of the castle.” And in many ways, you were grateful that this was not your responsibility for the coronation of Prince Peter Parker had been long awaited for.

After Peter’s uncle, King Benjamin, passed and with Peter’s father long gone before then, the young prince was suddenly eyed to be the king. However, the councilmen thought that the boy was too young – too green to be king. They waited years until Peter came of age and once he finally did, they refused a peaceful transition of power. Instead, there were harsh rumors that the kingdom would be handed to Brooklyn’s King.

This debacle led to rumors of unrest and threats of civil war. It felt as if the entire continent held its breath as it stared at Arachnia, waiting for the violence to begin.

If King Anthony of Starken and Lady Parker did not intervene, then there would’ve been lives lost and a country torn. An agreement was made between House Parker and their council: that before Peter may take the throne, he must either be married or engaged, so that the line of succession may be secured.

And with your presence and Peter’s sapphire ring, the crown became his in an instant.

Nearly three weeks before his coronation, lords and ladies along with royals from other countries flocked to Arachnia to celebrate its king.

Lady Parker and Prince Peter introduced you to so many people in the coming days that none of their names truly stuck. All except one.

King Steven Rogers of Brooklyn.

The tall, broad man strode through the castle halls. His royal blue clothes made his eyes pop in the daylight. You thought he was beautiful. His presence demanded attention and he walked with a knowing smirk. Cocky. Arrogant. You profiled as he stood in front of Peter, towering over him.

Peter, still a prince, bowed to him as you did. “You’re younger than I expected.” The King’s voice was contradicting to his loud presence. His tone was even and steady like soft currents of a river or the expert strokes of a painter upon a canvas. You didn’t realize he was speaking to you until Peter called your name.

“King Steven, allow me to introduce my bride to be, Lady (Y/N).” Peter’s brow glistened with sweat though he stood tall. He was nervous. You could tell by the way his pitch was higher than it usually was. Under the king’s eye, he felt inferior. Insecure, even. Because although Peter was charming and slender, King Steven was intimidatingly handsome and built. Peter looked like a prince whereas Steven exuded the confidence of the king and looked like it, too.

You knew of the history between Brooklyn and Arachnia. There had been rumors that if Prince Peter could not get the crown, that the entire country would become part of Brooklyn’s, part of this other king’s domain.

“It’s a pleasure, my lady,” the king smiled at you and your eyes rounded as butterflies erupted from your stomach. He took your hand in his and you felt goosebumps rise all over your skin. A nervous, ragged breath escaped you as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss upon your knuckles like Peter’s done a million times.

But your reaction was different. Your face went hot, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel it between your legs, a feeling you had never felt before. Pulsing. Throbbing.

King Steven’s hand lingered over yours for a few seconds more, thumb grazing your skin and over the sapphire. You suddenly felt embarrassed – as beautiful as the ring was, it was so large that it looked odd on your dainty hand.

“Beautiful ring,” he complimented with a nod to Peter. “Excellent taste.” It wasn’t clear if the king was complimenting the ring or the young woman who wore it and no one dared question such a distinguished man.

You pulled your hand away from his with a bow of your head. You couldn’t look him in the eye for a second more. “Thank you for joining us, your majesty.”

The king smiled at your fiancé before nodding. “I look forward to your coronation, Peter. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasant event.”

You forced a smile as you and your fiancé greeted the next guest. The pleasantries and introductions fell upon deaf ears because as you looked up, searching through the crowd, your eyes immediately found his already staring back at you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

It felt as if there was a party every single day. A festival in the courtyard. A feast every night. You began to wonder where was all this money coming from – were the people being taxed heavily for the enjoyment of the upper class? Lady Parker assured you that Arachnia was well funded and that where the expenses exceeded their budget, they were handled by King Anthony, who considered it an early marriage present.

You sat like a decorated ornament next to Peter, surrounded by the other royals at a round table. You felt out of place in a gown made from your town’s finest tailor whereas the queens and princesses around you wore one-of-a-kind pieces. You were reminded, again, that you were just an aristocrat’s daughter, the fiancé of a king sitting among the men and women that bards wrote songs about.

You felt as if you were set to be the butt of the joke in another round of ridicule as King Anthony drew his attention from teasing Peter to you.

“You,” he began, words a bit slurred due to the ale in his overflowing cup, “are very gorgeous. My love,” he directed to his wife, Queen Virginia, “don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you are a delight, Lady (Y/N).” The strawberry blonde smiled at you. You returned the smile, timidly.

“Likewise, your majesty,” you returned before nodding your head to the rest of the table. “All of you are wonderful.” Truthfully, many of their names went over your head and to save yourself the embarrassment, you refrained from calling any of them by name, only saying simple titles like your majesty and my lord or lady.

“Lady (Y/N),” the princess from the foreign land, Sokovia you think, called your attention. You believe her name was Wanda, or at least that was what the King of Hawksview called her. “Are you excited for whatever adventures marriage will bring you?” Her tone was drunk and teasing. It was clear what she was alluding to though you weren’t quite sure if you caught on.

“Oh, dear,” Peter chuckled, awkwardly, obviously understanding. His face a beet red as he patted your hand that sat on your lap. “Dove, you do not need to answer.”

“Dove?” King Steven, the one man you knew by name, questioned from across the round table. He sat directly in front of you and you swore he sat there deliberately.

“It’s what my father calls me,” you explained though your voice was a bit scratchy, your throat dry. You coughed before taking a sip from your barely touched ale, finding the taste quite revolting. You shifted uncomfortably in the seat as you felt the prying eyes of the Brooklyn King stare through you as if you were glass.

“Dove.” He repeated, trying the petname out. “Sweet. Innocent.”

“Oh, you stop teasing, Steve,” the woman with dark red hair rolled her eyes. You remembered her being called Nat though you did remember her from your history lessons. Queen Natalia Romanova of Widow’s Peak, the queen who paved the way for women on the battlefield. She was revered and you were in awe when you met her.

“If we’re teasing, shall we jest about how Steven has yet to marry?” The prince from Asgard laughed. He pushed his long black hair over his shoulder as his older brother, the blonde – the King – swatted at his forearm with the back of his hand as if to say be quiet.

Steven smirked, eyes shifting to his lap, before chuckling. “Laugh and tease all you want,” he said, grabbing his cup and bringing it to his lips.

“Why is it you haven’t married?” Queen Natasha’s husband, Bruce – you think – asked.

Attention shifted back to Brooklyn’s king as he shrugged, taking another swig from his cup. His eyes darted around the table as if gaging – studying – the group.

You found it odd. Many of the royals around you considered the others their closest friends, yet here he was, a mystery to them still. It was as if he was content with going unseen and unheard. You could understand.

“C’mon, Stevie,” King Anthony taunted with a pet name. The blonde’s jaw tensed for a moment but quickly released. You frowned at that – was there tension between the two kings? “Handsome, wealthy king with vast holdings and a powerful kingdom, yet no marriage? It’s like you’re not trying, Steven.”

The Brooklyn king chuckled again, brows lifting with an amused look. His eyes met yours and you felt your face go hot again. Your gown shifted underneath the table as your knee bumped Peter’s when you crossed your legs. He looked away.

“I would not get married simply because I need a crown,” his eyes shifted to Peter before shifting back to his cup, “or I need an alliance, or my country requires finances or resources. Brooklyn’s striving under my rule.” He said it so calmly and smugly as if he weren’t throwing condescending comments about his friends’ marriages right in front of them.

“If I were to get married,” Steven’s ocean eyes met yours again like the waves crashing into a shore, “it would be because I’m in love.”

You shifted in your seat, that pulsing, throbbing ache returning as you held his stare. You bit your lip before nervously breaking the eye contact to pick at the bread roll on your plate.

You suddenly jumped when Peter draped his arm around your shoulder, completely unaware that he was about to do so, too preoccupied to appear occupied. He shot you a worried glance, but you gave him a tight smile and a nod.

“Well, I, for one,” he smiled, “am marrying for love.” Peter pressed a kiss to your temple, and you felt your smile drop for a second. Just a mere second – maybe even less.

No one noticed, you assured yourself with a relieved exhale. You scanned the round table to find that everyone smiled at you and your fiancé with dopey grins, staring at the two children in love. However, Steven’s was different.

No… The king had a knowing smirk on his face as if to say, I saw.

»————-　⚜　————-«

With the coronation in a fortnight, you and Peter found yourselves on edge. Your shoulders always felt tense which left an ache in your neck, leaving you to rub out the knots but to no avail.

Peter’s nerves made him jittery. During meals, his leg bounced up and down with nerves. The sudden movement often shaking the table, leaving you in an annoyed silence. To cope with his pending coronation nerves, the young prince whisked himself into meaningless tasks and hobbies in hopes to distract himself.

Unfortunately, this meant that he often left you to yourself, leaving you to dwell in your unease on your own.

You confided in Lady Parker about your nerves though she returned your concern with a small frown. “You aren’t getting coronated, why are you nervous?” She chuckled dismissively. You nearly snapped then but was able to stop yourself before saying anything offensive to Lady Parker.

Deciding that your thoughts were better left unsaid, you isolated yourself in the stairwell on the south wing of the castle. In your time here at Arachnia, this quickly became your favorite spot. The south wing was nowhere near the bustling crowds of guests and their parties, making it the quietest place in the castle at times. There was a wide window that stood above the stairs; it brought in gorgeous sunlight and you often found yourself basking in its warmth.

However, with your troubled thoughts, the south wing stairwell’s window brought you no comfort at all as you gnawed on the bump on the inside of your cheek. It was a habit you picked up when you were being taught to be a lady – a lady is to be seen and never heard – so you opted to biting back your opinions and retorts, whether it be physical or metaphorical.

Though Lady Parker was right, the coronation was Peter’s worry alone, it would not only be Peter that would be judged and watched by the entire continent the moment that crown is on his head. Even now as a mere lady, the fiancé of their soon to be king, you were burdened with such scrutiny and you were sure that this would only increase three-fold once Peter was crowned king.

The pressures would only worsen once you were dubbed Peter’s queen.

So, you sat pensively in your thoughts near the top of the stairs as you enjoyed the last few months of peace you had left.

“For an engaged woman, I do find you alone too many times,” a voice took you from your thoughts as it carried through the empty stairwell. You looked up and met the amused smirk of King Steven Rogers.

You stood up from your spot and found your footing at the top of the staircase before you curtseyed. “Your majesty,” you greeted.

“Most brides tend to cling to their fiancé, fighting to be by their side every waking moment,” the king mused, quirking an eyebrow up, “but not you.”

“I suppose.”

“May I?” He gestured to the unoccupied seat next to you. You bit your lip before nodding, sitting down again, but this time with the king’s warmth next to you. “Is something on your mind, Lady (Y/N)?”

“No, your majesty,” you said a bit too quickly and he saw through you.

He tutted, knowingly. “I know a troubled lady when I see one,” he pressed. “Please, my lady, speak freely as if I am just a friend.”

“I hadn’t realized I was friends with a king,” you muttered. You felt his eyes on you as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and stared at your lap.

The conversation stilled as the silence built, but you found comfort in the king’s presence. Although his eyes made you uneasy and nervous, he brought you a strange sense of peace.

His soft chuckle pulled you from your thoughts again. “Lady (Y/N).” He said your name and you glanced over at him with a brow cocked up. “I noticed that you don’t speak, not often, at least.”

“I was taught to never speak unless spoken to.”

He scoffed. “That’s a habit that you’ll grow out of.” He saw confusion flash through your expression and smiled, gently. “A strong, respected queen demands attention as she enters a room. Every step she takes must be a stride of confidence so that no one ever questions her status.”

“A status that my husband, the king, gives me. I cannot over-step. I would undermine him.”

“Peter’s a king,” Steven corrected. “I never said you would over-step, but a true king would ensure that he and his queen are in equal footing.” He cocked his head to the side as he noticed your grimace. “You don’t like that.”

“I beg your pardon?” You asked before quickly added, “your majesty.”

“Being called his queen,” he clarified with a smile.

Panicked, you began, “I am humbled to wear his ring on my finger – that he considered me for marriage and that – “

“You are not on trial,” he interrupted, quickly with a laugh. “It’s merely an observation.” You nodded, awkwardly. “In my opinion, I feel as if a marriage – any marriage, whether royal or otherwise – is a partnership, but unfortunately, many see it as an ownership.”

“That’s just not how our society sees it.” You muttered with a shake of your head.

“Where is your fiancé? It’s too often that I find you alone. I shall share a word with him about his manners.” He joked and you laughed lightly at his attempt to lighten the mood.

You sighed, fidgeting with the sapphire on your finger. “He’s … preoccupied.”

Steve frowned at that but abruptly stood, stretching his hand out to you. “Then, come, my lady, I shall escort you to the festival to enjoy this beautiful day.”

Your hands flew to your face as you shook your head, defiantly. “Oh, god no!” You groaned. He amusedly raised his eyebrows at you. “I hate leaving the castle to join the others… Everyone just stares at me. It’s unsettling!”

Steve laughed and leaned down to pull you to your feet. Although you stood at the top of the staircase and he a few steps beneath you, he was still taller than you.

“They’re admiring their future queen,” he tried. He took your hands in his and you felt a shiver run down your spine as the goosebumps rose. “And from where I stand, I must say, she is truly a vision… Even if she’s moping.”

The butterflies didn’t cease to exist as they fluttered excitedly under his stare. You bit your lip and avoided eye contact, staring at your hands clasped in his. His words lifted your confidence, but his presence made you nervous and you didn’t quite understand why.

He whispered your name; fingers reaching out beneath your chin and lifted your chin. Blue eyes staring deep into your wide ones and for a split second he glanced down at your lips.

“You can tell me to stop.”

He was so close to you. Your noses were nearly touching.

“What if I don’t want you to?” You whispered. You held your breath, but he gladly stole it as he pressed his soft, plump lips onto yours.

You swore it was almost instinct… It had to be. You moved in sync. With your lips pressed against his, you felt this feeling of belonging – something you hadn’t felt in all your time in the palace of Arachnia, in all your life. In all your time spent with Peter, it never felt like this.

Your hands fisted his dirty blonde hair as his hands cupped your face, holding you there… keeping you in the moment and you swore time stopped.

You were breathless when you finally pulled away. Eyes wide in realization.

You had just given your first kiss away to a man that wasn’t your fiancé and there was no ounce of regret in either of you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

Time passed so slowly when all you’d wish for was that it’d up – skipping to a time where you and Peter were already married and the royals have all vacated Arachnia and back to their own lands, where the king that occupied your mind was long gone.

In the days that followed, you avoided each like the plague. You’d turn the corner and see Peter then immediately turn the other way or you’d bow your head down so low so that you could avoid Steven’s fixated stare as you passed him in the corridors.

The only time you couldn’t escape the two was during meals. Although during breakfast and lunch you usually spent alone, it was during the feasts of dinner that you could not escape the lingering stare of King Steven nor the possessive arm of Prince Peter.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Peter whispered in your ear. You were guilt-ridden as you stared at the concern that filled his deep brown eyes. You muttered that you were alright just a bit tired although under the king’s eyes you have never felt more alive. But he accepted your answer nonetheless.

“Are we interrupting,” teased King Anthony with a playful grin. “Shall we order the absence of everyone in the room so that you two may have all the privacy in the world?” His wife slapped his shoulder with a chuckle as you and Peter bashfully apologized – Peter because he was truly embarrassed for being caught whispering in your ear and you because you felt Steven’s eyes staring through your soul. “Tell us, Lady (Y/N), how did such a lovely lady such as yourself end up with a brute of a prince like Peter?”

You swallowed as all their attention turned to you. You stared across the table at King Steven who eyed you with a smirk. His elbows rested on the table with his hands clasped together, head resting on top of his knuckles, as if taunting you, egging you on. You tore your eyes away as you focused on your lap.

“Well… uh – “

“We met at her brother’s party,” Peter announced, proudly. You took your cue and nodded with a small grin and kept silent. “My father and hers were friends before he passed, and so they invited my aunt and I. We had no choice but to accept, and thankfully, we did. She was truly a sight, this one.” You forced a laugh as the other chuckled. “I knew then she had to be mine, this little dove.”

You grimaced but quickly covered it up by grabbing your cup of untouched ale. Your eyes flicked over to Steven who was already staring at you. He cocked an eyebrow up at you as your eyes met. You brought the ale to your lips and he stared as your lips pressed against the rip of the chalice but never drank anything.

The conversation drifted to another topic, but you excused yourself, telling Peter you were exhausted. He nodded with a smile and leaned in to kiss you and your eyes widened, turning your head – had he wanted your first kiss to be in front of all these people? Marking you as his? His lips pressed against your cheek and you muttered goodbye to him and bid a goodnight to the others.

You wondered aimlessly throughout the corridors, lost in your thoughts. With everyone in the grand hall for dinner, the castle was felt empty, and your shoes clicked against the tiles and echoed through the halls. After minutes of silent walking, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck prick up and goosebumps run down your arms.

You turned to find the dark hallway staring back at you. You frowned before you turned and ran into a sturdy build of a man.

“I thought you retired for the night?” and you recognized the voice immediately.

“Your majesty,” you whispered, bowing awkwardly to King Steven.

He chuckled as you apologized frantically. He shushed you, seizing your hands but you snatched them away. Steven frowned. “You’re avoiding me.”

“What happened shouldn’t have happened,” you hissed.

A playful smirk replaced his scowl as he tilted his head, tauntingly. “But you could’ve stopped me. You could’ve said no.”

“Of course,” you chuckled dryly. “It’s always the woman’s fault. Men can never take responsibility for their misdoings and kings,” you spat out as if it were poison on your tongue. “are no better.”

“Was it your first kiss?”

Your tongue darted out and wet your bottom lip and you didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced down. Embarrassment washed over you like a wave as your shoulders slumped. Were you that bad?

“It was, wasn’t it?” He smiled. “I wouldn’t have known… but you were a natural – “

“Don’t flatter me.” You snapped and he laughed.

“So, I had the honor of being your first kiss…” He muttered. Steven’s hand grabbed your bicep, which was significantly smaller than his, and pulled you closer to him.

“Your majesty – “He shushed you as he kissed you again in that corridor, but you pulled away abruptly, not allowing yourself to melt into him. “We can’t. I am engaged to the prince.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “But you don’t want to be. Others may dismiss it as nerves, cold feet, even, but,” he tsked, “I know better.”

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.” He whispered. “Enough to know that I want you.”

“I have to be married to the prince. I wear his ring. I live in his castle.”

“And enjoy a loveless marriage? He can dote on you and you can learn to love him, yes… I’ve seen it in my parents’ union and in my friends’, but you’ll never truly be happy, no…” He told you, brows furrowed and shook his head.

“And I’d be happy as your mistress?” You scoffed, shaking your head, but you made no motions to step away. “A noblewoman reduced to nothing but a king’s play-thing? The dishonor, the shame – “

“I never said you’d be my mistress.” Steven shook his head as he cupped your jaw.

“And you intend to marry me?” You laughed as if he had said the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. And it was. It was hilarious to think that he was being anything but truthful. You were sure he was jesting with you. Empty words. Empty promises. But his stare was serious.

“I want you.”

“You want the idea of me,” you corrected. “The idea that you can take another king’s wife. Kings throughout history are all the same. Covet another man’s wife, his property, or his land. Just to prove you are better.” You shook your head. “It’s a pissing contest for you. It’s treason for me.”

“I am a king.” He told you and you rolled your eyes.

“Not mine.” You whispered. “Your teasing, your jokes. Your eyes… they linger in a way only Peter’s should, and it has to stop.”

“I want you.” He repeated. “And I know you want me, too.”

“I don’t – “

“Or else you would’ve walked away. You could’ve pulled your arm from me – I’m not holding onto you tightly. You could’ve run off to your little prince, but you’re avoiding him, too. Is it guilt, my lady?” He asked you, leaning down and whispering into your ear. Your breath hitched as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, kissing the skin beneath it. “Because you know you don’t want the boy… but you’re too kind to hurt him.”

“You’re trying to get me killed.” You stifled a moan as his lips left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Shunned and humiliated – “

“I want to be yours,” he confessed.

A sudden burst of laughter had you jump from each other. Your back pressed against the wall as he took a step back with a smirk. In the distance, you could hear drunken men and their courtesans stumble about the castle, doors slamming shut. The feast must’ve been over, and the halls were soon to be crowded again.

You two held each other’s stares as you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The moonlight that slipped through the curtains of the windows had his deep blue eyes gleaming and he was marvelous view.

»————-　⚜　————-«

The room was stuffy and the jewelry that adorned your neck and wrists were heavy. They weighed you down as if to remind you of the pressures that your new life held – what lay ahead of you. The dress you wore was a combination of white and gold. You looked regal like the betrothed of a king should look like. You stood in the crowd next to King Anthony and his wife, behind you was King Steven and his piercing stare.

The feelings that you held for Steven were wrong and you knew that. You often wished that Peter had been flawed – an unfaithful man or a cruel one but he was the opposite. He was kind and gentle albeit a bit dismissive or not present at times. The guilt gnawed at you each time you and the Brooklyn king met behind closed doors, or in the secluded library, or in the depths of the rose garden, planted especially for you by Peter’s order, but you didn’t care.

It was innocent, really – at least that’s what you told yourself. The meetings always started the same. Bickering and joking. He had even taken an interest in tutoring you about chess – “a game for kings,” he would say. Although he had beat you every game, you never minded because all the meetings ended the same – with your lips pressed against his and you melting into his touch.

The crowds all stood as Peter entered the throne room. He was dressed as a king in his house colors – red, blue, gold. He was sweaty and his hands were clasped together nervously. He shot a glance your way as he walked by and you gave him a soft, encouraging nod. He returned it with a smile as he kneeled before the throne.

The priest slipped a ring on his finger and he was later handed the scepter and the orb. You caught the way the scepter slipped due to his clammy hands – not too much but just enough to have him fumble. Behind you, you heard Steven chuckle and you shot him a look as if to tell him to behave and he shook his head at you with a grin.

The crown was placed onto Peter’s head and he hesitantly stood. He was unbalanced, weighed down, but he took each step towards the throne with stride and a proud smile.

“Long live the king!” You and the entire crowd chanted in unison though you were almost certain that Steven didn’t say a word.

The party held afterwards was filled with dancing and music, but you were tied to Peter’s side the entire evening as he thanked his guests and accepted their congratulations, all eager to get in favor with their new king.

Instead of the usual round table, Peter and his family – Lady Parker and you – were seated in a long table at the front of the grand hall. The rest of the royals scattered in other tables near yours. You picked at your food, boredom sinking in as another nobleman approached.

You glanced up and met Steven’s eyes. He brought his chalice up as if to salute you and you softly laughed before turning your attention to the duke. The conversation was dull with fake pleasantries and complaints of lost land – Peter promised the duke that he would look into it. You remembered Steven tell you that kings should make no promises that he could not uphold. and you wondered if Peter had any intentions of honoring it.

“Do you want to dance?” Peter asked you after the man left, offering you his hand. You smiled and nodded, taking it.

He pulled you onto the dancefloor, joining the other couples. Peter’s hold on you was tight as if you would run away or disappear. The crown on his head was just a little big and would slip over his forehead. You’d giggle and push it back up.

He pulled you close to him and swayed to the music. “This is grand,” he told you. “The crown, a beautiful bride.” You hummed in agreement though you didn’t entirely adore the idea – not as much as you used to. You hated being compared to that awful crown as if you were just an accessory to him. “And … In a few days’ time, my dove, we are to be wed.”

“What?” You shook your head with a dry laugh, taking it as a joke. “Your high – majesty,” you corrected, and he beamed at the title, “we are set to be married in the late spring. Not in a few days.”

Peter frowned. “Had no told you?” You shook your head, no. He sighed. “I suppose I should’ve… The council believes that it’s best we get married immediately. Now, that I’ve got the crown, they say I need heirs,” you blanched at the idea, “and besides, the other royal families of Marvel are already here.” Your breath hitched as the realization set it. “Well, aside from King Steven, he’s one to never attend weddings.”

“Peter – “you shook your head. The panic beginning to rise. Despite being trained for this very day since you were young, you were convinced you weren’t ready. You told yourself the anxiety was from the idea of being queen, but the truth was – the anxiety was from the idea of being wed… to Peter.

“May I cut in?” You didn’t hear Peter’s response just that a pair of familiar hands seized yours and your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “Are you okay?”

You stared up at Steven’s worried eyes, brows lifted and lines of concern all over his forehead. You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. You hated the idea that you would be Peter’s completely, and that Steven would never be yours.

“Peter said we are to be wed in a few days,” you uttered. The words didn’t feel right. Your voice was shaking as you held back your tears. Steven’s jaw dropped before he nodded. “Steve,” his eyes stared into yours, “I don’t want this.”

“And what is it do you want?” Steven asked you. He was hopeful although naively so. And in many ways, you were as well to believe that your affections for Steven could extend to something more. But reality set in, you were engaged to a king – just not the king you wanted.

“I want to marry you,” you confessed though voice hushed, afraid that any ears would hear your treasonous words. You let out a shaky breath as you stared at him before shaking your head. The idea that you fell in love with a man after knowing him for only three weeks was preposterous. “Or at least… that I want to be with you.”

Steven smiled softly at your confession – words he had been hoping to hear ever since he cornered you in the empty hallway. He leaned in and your eyes widened, but he brought his lips to your ear and whispered, “keep your chamber doors unlocked tonight.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

One of the peculiar things about your move to Arachnia’s palace was your bedroom. It was rather enormous for the fiancé of the now king. When you first arrived, you expected a room modest in size though not as big as this – especially since you’d move into Peter’s chambers once you were married. The mattress was pressed against the back wall between two large windows that never opened. Bookshelves filled with novels though no work area – no desk or study. Instead, you were given a vanity. Besides those pieces, the room was pure empty space.

You used to joke to yourself that you were just a prisoner who adorned the prince’s, now king’s, jewels and a fine title.

You stood by the window, watching the fireworks that celebrated the coronation. You swore you could see the towns in the distance, all lit up with anticipation. Peter would soon be making his rounds throughout the country as its official king. Would it happen before you were married or after? Would you be asked to join him as his queen?

You stared down at your ring finger. The sapphire staring tauntingly back at you. It shackled you to a man you didn’t want. It reminded you of your family’s side eyes and low whispers when you didn’t immediately get married once you were of age, or the hushed voices and stares of the other nobles as they judged your every move calling you unworthy to marry a prince, let alone a king.

And all you could think was – to hell with it all.

A soft knock was heard from the wooden door of the chamber and you walked towards it. The stone tiles were cold against your bare feet and the doorknob even colder against your already freezing hand. With a twist of the doorknob, a smile formed on your lips as Steven came to view.

You hurriedly pulled him inside, eyes scanning the now empty hallway, before closing it.

He eyed you up and down and smiled, admiring you – hair undone and natural, face free of any makeup or colors staining your cheeks or lips, no gown with a corset that clung onto your body that left you with no room to breathe.

You were beautiful and oh, how he’d kill to see you like this every day.

“Did anyone see you?” You asked him, softly, though within the thick walls of the castles and in the privacy of your chambers no one would hear you.

Steven shook his head, one hand finding your waist and the other cupping the side of your face. “They never do, do they?” He whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

You pulled away, leaning into his chest, settling into his warmth. You loved being in his embrace – it was safe and warm like a small cottage in the countryside with no judgmental stares or rumors whispered about.

You realize you could live like this until your last day – and with your intentions, that final day might be quickly approaching. “Why is it you asked to meet me here?”

Steven’s jaw ticked. Truthfully, he had no real answer. He could’ve asked to meet anywhere, and the risks were just the same. The mere act of meeting you in private was damning, no matter what he intended.

He thought that admiring you from across a crowded room, under the cover of hundreds all staring at you, too, would be enough. He thought his eyes would go unnoticed. He told himself that his attraction would be fleeting, but it wasn’t – and it became clear the moment he pressed his lips against yours at the top of the south stairwell.

“Steve?”

He sighed. “I… I’m not quite sure if I’m honest with you, Lady (Y/N).”

You smiled to yourself. In the time you’ve known King Steven, he had always been so smug, so confident. Every step had a direction and every word so sure, but you’ve reduced him to a man begging for the affection of a woman.

You pulled yourself from his chest and stared up at him before you stood on the tips of your toes to press a kiss onto his lips.

It was as if you two were molded together or made from the same cloth. Lips pressed together as if they had always belonged there.

His large hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up, wrapping your legs around his tapered waist. You felt the heat rise to your face when that familiar throbbing feeling between your legs came back – and with your cunt pressed against the middle of his body, you were sure he could feel it, too.

Your back pressed against the soft, silk sheets of your bed. Steven draped over you like ivy covering the castle’s stone walls.

The framework creaked beneath your combined weight as he began to grind aimlessly against your center, eliciting a gasp from you as it helped the ache from deep within you.

He smirked into the kiss, but you caught him off guard yet again when you whispered, “I – I want you.” He pulled away, taken back. “I want all of you, Steve, please – “

“(Y/N) – “

He began to climb off you, but you sat up, hands cupping his face and staring deep into his eyes. You shook your head as you gave him a quick kiss.

Foreheads touching, you told him, “if I am to go marry and live in this hell, I might as well be granted a taste of heaven.”

“You will be ruined – “he whispered though the idea made his cock twitch in his trousers. You jumped as you felt it too.

You shook your head again, “how can you ruin anything, Steve?”

Steve licked his lips as he tried to fight off his morals. The devil and the angel on his shoulders disappeared and became one – the beautiful maiden beneath him, begging for him to take her.

“If we do this,” he whispered as he nudged your cheek, lips kissing your jaw, “there will be no going back, (Y/N).”

“I want to be yours, Steve,” you told him, honestly. “I – I love you.”

And that’s all it took to have his lips ravish yours, hands roaming, desperately grabbing on to what he could. He pulled away and grabbed your hand. He slid the ring off your finger, tossing it onto the table next to your bed before he pressed his lips to yours once again.

You heard a rip and you gasped as the cold air hit your bare skin. Steven’s hands pushed the torn fabric off away from your body, throwing the ruined white silk behind his shoulder.

He pulled away from you, admiring the view beneath him – the woman spread out before him like an offering, nipples perked in the cold winter air, mouth ajar as she panted, and the perfect, untouched pussy.

“I love you, too.”

He began to undress, and you couldn’t take your eyes off this Herculean being in front of you. He was thick and broad, the muscles that were arranged all over his body were hypnotizing as were the scars undoubtfully from all his training and his time spent in wars.

He was a god in the body of the king, and you wondered how you got so lucky.

Steven began to undo the strings that held his pants up and you watched with you lip between your teeth. The anticipation, alone, killed you. He pushed down his pants and your eyes widened at his massive cock – tanner than the rest of his skin, with a red angry tip, thick veins, and clear liquid coming from it.

He saw your uncertain expression and he raised his brows at you. “I – I –“you began to stammer.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now, little one,” Steven whispered. His hands reached out and cupped your cheek, hungry eyes scanned your body and your mouth went dry. The throbbing within you was relentless and made you clench your thighs together. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes looked away, bashfully, as his hands explored you – cupping your breasts and tracing the curves of your body. All Steven wanted was for all of you to be his.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you hesitantly looked back at him. He had a soft smile and adoring eyes as his fingers slipped through your folds. You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered closed as the ache was relieved by his touch. “Look at me,” Steven repeated, and you forced your eyes open to stare at him. Your lover smirked as he found your small bundle of nerves and rubbed tight circles around it.

It felt as if something within you had blossomed and you couldn’t help but grind into his touch, but he tutted at you, using his free hand to hold your hips down. “You’re soaked, my love,” Steven whispered, leaning down, and nipping at the base of your neck. Hard enough for you to gasp but not enough to leave marks. “Already so wet and I’ve yet to do anything.”

“It’s just my reaction to you,” you confessed, heat rising to your face.

You tried to avert your eyes away from his piercing stare, but he tsked and pinched your inner thigh. You hissed in return and brought your stare back to him. “Don’t make me tell you again, (Y/N),” Steven warned.

You nodded, speechless as his fingers wandered further down, ghosting over your untouched opening. You let out a shaky breath.

“Steven – “you moaned as he sunk one long, thick, skilled finger inside of you.

“You’re so tight,” the king noted with a smirk. He relished in the idea that he would be the first to have you and he wished that he’d be the only one to have you forever.

“Steven, I want you… Please – “

He tsked at you with a quick shake of his head. His lips pressed against yours again, silencing your soft whines and protests. “I need to open you up, my love,” he told you, lips still against yours, “or else you might get hurt.” He pressed another finger into you, and you pulled away from his lips.

The back of your head pressed against the mattress as another moan escaped you. The king began to scissor your opening. The stretch was tolerable though still uncomfortable and had your breath shuddering.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised you, nose tracing your jaw. His lips kissed the column of your throat.

You groaned when his fingers began to thrust, opening you up to him. You heard the faint sound of your arousal on his fingers, the wetness spilling onto your thighs, too. Your hands tangled up into the king’s long, dark blonde hair, pulling him into you as he added a third finger, effectively stretching you out.

“Are you alright?” He asked you, fingers thrusting into you in a rhythm of their own. You nodded, eyes staring at the top of the canopy over your bed and hands pushing the king flush against you’re the joint between your neck and shoulder. He kissed the skin there, trying not to suck on it to leave you with his marks – marks that young Peter would undoubtfully see on your wedding night.

You gasped as you felt this tightening knot in the depths of your stomach. “You almost there, my love?” Steven asked and you nodded though you weren’t sure where there was. Your thighs tightened around him. You whined when his fingers left your heated core right on the precipice of pleasure, leaving you with an emptiness. Steven chuckled.

“I was – “

“First time you get to cum will be around my cock,” he told you brazenly and it felt as if your entire body flushed at his words. He brought his fingers to his lips and your eyes widened when he began to suck on them, and he groaned. “You taste so sweet, my lady.” The king quirked up an eyebrow at your curious expression as he swiped his fingers against your lips. “Have a taste, my love.”

Your tongue reluctantly darted out over your lips, gathering the sweet yet musky taste of your essence. Your hand reached out, wrapping around his wrist and bringing his fingers to your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his index and middle finger and sucked carefully as he did, and you felt his cock twitch against your thigh at the sight.

He watched you intently as you cleaned off his fingers, his free hand stroking his throbbing dick. He swiped the tip against your slit, causing your body to shudder when he bumped your clit.

He took his fingers from your mouth and both hands held your waist. Instinctively, your pushed your knees further apart, opening up to him. Steven’s blue eyes flicked up to you as he pressed his tip against your heat.

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

You nodded. “I’ve never been more sure.”

You threw your head back as he began to press into you, the pressure unbearable and made your entire body tense. The king began to hush you, holding still. One of his hands caressed the side of your face, combing through your hair. “You need to relax, my love,” he cooed.

You muttered an incoherent agreement as you tried to will your muscles to loosen. You heard the squelching sound of your cunt engulfing the man, slowly. Your hand flew to his wrist and grabbed onto it, unsure of what to do.

He praised you as the tip slipped in along with an inch or two, but he was nowhere close to bottoming out. The king began to pull back, only leaving the tip in before pushing in more of him. You hissed again as he pressed past the thin veil of your innocence, being the first and only man to tear through it.

His cock was no match for his fingers, being much thicker and so much longer. You tried to even your breathing and he chuckled. “You’re doing so well, my love,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Taking me so well… Look…”

His nose nudged the side of your cheek and you slowly craned your neck to look down as he bottomed out completely – his public bone flush against your clit. Your mouth watered at the sight as he slowly pulled out an inch or two. You took a sharp breath when you saw the faint strips of red on his length.

The king began to rock into you slowly and you couldn’t take your eyes away from where you were connected. The pain, although still there from the burning stretch, was incomparable to the pleasure when his tip brushed against a certain part of your canal.

You moaned, loudly, head thrown back, exposing your throat to him. Steven kissed the hollowness before capturing your lips in his. “I love you,” he murmured into the kiss as his hips began to speed up. Your own matching his thrusts.

The sound of skin clapping against each other echoed throughout the enormous room and you felt yourself clench against him.

He groaned in return. In one quick motion, the king hoisted your knees over his shoulder, giving him a much deeper angle to take you from. He thrusted so hard and so deeply that you swore you felt him in your chest.

You moaned his name as your hands grabbed your breasts. He watched with a smirk as you fondled yourself and one of his hands began to rub tight circles around your swollen clit again. Your back arched at the sensation.

“I’m gonna fill you up, my love,” he told you. “Have you fall pregnant with my child. Watch you swell…” It was a fantasy, on Steven’s behalf. He’d always wanted a wife and children but never found the right partner until you. “Do you want that, little one? Do you want my children?”

“I want you, Steven,” you moaned. No coherent thoughts were forming as the familiar tight knot in your stomach suddenly snapped. Your hips ground up against his as your walls tightened around the king, milking him, and pushing him over the edge.

Steven thrusts faltered, leaving his rhythm, and pushed deeply into you one last time. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt each spurt, covering your walls in his white.

You two laid on top each other, legs entangled, and bodies intertwined like lovers. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you said, “I love you, Steven.”

And in that moment, all was right.

»————-　⚜　————-«

“What?”

The disbelief in each of their tones hung in the air. The councilmen shook their heads in shock as Peter stared at you from the throne with his brows furrowed, deep in thought.

“I beg your pardon, Lady (Y/N).” One of the men said.

“My lords, my king,” you addressed with a bow of your head. “I asked for this meeting to tell you that I am incredibly humbled to have been homed here in the palace of Arachnia and to be the betrothed of the prince – king – to have witnessed you be crowned, your majesty… But I,” you swallowed and took a deep breath. “I do not want to marry you.”

“What brought this on?” Peter asked you as he leaned into his throne. He eyed you, suspiciously, eyes glancing over your figure. Although the new king had been wrapped up in several meetings ever since his coronation, he noticed the change in you – the way your body filled out, hips wider and the glow in your complexion. You looked more radiant than you usually were and much happier. Though he wasn’t sure what was the cause, he was certain it had not been him but he refused to believe it was another.

“I cannot believe this!”

“We’ve wasted all this time preparing a marriage!”

“How dare she – “

“He needs a bride to keep his crown.”

“Silence,” Peter ordered the men and their murmurs quickly disappeared. Words and unfinished sentences hung in the air. “What brought this on, my lady?”

You cleared your throat as you took a step forward. “Your majesty, I … I am not meant to be your queen.”

Peter nodded in contemplation and you were hopeful. He had always been understanding. He would’ve surely granted you a swift exit from this engagement without another – “No.” And just like that your hopes were dashed. “You are to remain my betrothed as you have been for months.”

“But Pete – “

“Our wedding is in days!” Peter snapped and your eyes flicked to the floor. “And you want to end our engagement now? You had months to concede – “

“I was afraid!” You objected. The lords stared on as your voice rose higher than the king’s. The tone, the higher octave, may have been from a moment of frustration, but the men in the throne room saw it as one thing only: a lady undermining her king.

“Afraid?” He scoffed. “Of what? Of me? My lady, I am not a cruel man – “

“Then grant me my wish. Release me from this engagement.” You begged.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “We are to be married in a few days’ time.” You saw how his kind eyes darkened as he frowned at you. “You do your best to rid of your cold feet now, my lady.”

Defeated, you rushed out of the throne room. Several servants and other nobles stared with confused expressions as you ran past with tears in your eyes – running to the only man that understood you, the only man that could help.

You banged against his chamber doors, desperate for him to whisk you away.

“Steven!” You called when the door suddenly opened to reveal a maid. Her arms were full of linens and you stared at her in confusion.

She quickly curtseyed to you and cocked her head to the side. “My lady, have you been crying?”

“No,” you shook your head, jaw clenched, though your sniffle gave you away. “Where’s King Steven?”

“He left this afternoon, my lady.” She told you.

“What?” You felt the color drain from your face. You shook your head at her as if she were wrong. He wouldn’t have left you – not like this. “No… There must be a mistake. Steven – King Steven – “

She frowned before shaking her head. “No, my lady… The Brooklyn King left hours ago. If you had wanted to know, I would’ve told you. I had no idea you two were so close.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Though the maid had been kind in her intention, you heard the accusation loud and clear.

A shaky breath left you as you forced a smile. “No,” you said shaking your head again, “no… The king, our king, Peter and I were hoping he’d attend our… our marriage.” The word felt heavy on your tongue as the world around you began to crash down. “I suppose, we were too naïve to believe he’d stay.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

The barren winter trees passed by in blurs as Steven stared out the carriage window. The bickering of his two friends and advisors, Lord Samuel Wilson and James Barnes, became background noise to his pensive thoughts.

He wondered how you were – were you as devasted as he was? Would you understand if he told you the truth – that he, though desperately and completely in love with you, could not have you? That his overstep, his coveting of Peter Parker’s fiancé, may reignite a feud long buried between Arachnia and Brooklyn.

That as a king, it was his duty to put a stop to a potential war.

Though as a man, he knew his duty was to you and may always be.

“The girl,” Barnes’s mention of your name had him turning from the window and towards the two men, “she seems well. A great match for the young king.”

Steve scoffed. Although he knew his opinion was heavily biased, he knew that you were most certainly not a good match for the Parker boy. Peter would have you as a decorated figurehead – a pretty woman on his arm for the world to see – while Steven wanted so much more in your forbidden union.

“I see you disagree,” Samuel nodded to his king. Steven sat in silence and the two lords shot a knowing glance at the other. “They are to be wed in a few days.” Steven hummed though the two didn’t miss the way his hand formed a fist over his knee.

“The sooner the better, I suppose,” James nodded, eyeing Steven wearily. “Peter, being so young and the last of his line, he needs an heir quickly.” The king shifted in the carriage and they felt the entire cart jolt with his fury. “Steven, I address this as your friend, nothing more, but what is your issue?”

“Nothing.” Steven said quickly and he scolded himself. He felt like a young boy throwing a tantrum with his mother.

James raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his king and childhood friend. “The girl has piqued your interest, hasn’t she?” His friend’s silence was all the confirmation he needed. “Steve – “

“I know,” Steven snapped. “I know it is wrong to want another man – “he scoffed, “child’s bride…”

“And yet you still do?” Samuel asked. “Steve, the consequences of your feelings,” he shook his head, “it will incite an unnecessary war… and over what? A girl?”

“If she’s a war, then I will fight.”

“A love blind man’s word… Not a king’s.” Samuel rebutted.

“Why did you leave her, then? You could’ve stowed her away in this carriage with us. You could’ve stolen her from under Peter’s nose. Why didn’t you?” James quizzed.

With a defeated sigh, Steven said, “it’s for her own good. My affections for her, whatever my heart says or hers, it will get her killed. Arachnia will not take lightly to her betrayal of their king.”

James nodded in agreement. “You’re saving her. This is for the best, my friend. For if you listened to your heart instead of your head, she will be a casualty in a pointless war.”

“It’s difficult,” Steven confessed, “to have let her go. And it’s something I will regret for the rest of my life.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

ONE YEAR LATER…

Your entire family cooed at the fussing three-month-old in the king’s arms. The child continue to wail and thrash, finding discomfort in your husband. “Argh!” He glanced over to you as if asking for your help. You stifled a laugh as you walked over, seizing your baby from him. “She prefers her mother over me.” He joked as the babe almost instantly calmed in your arms.

“Have you chosen a godparent, yet, your majesty?” Your father asked you, subtly pushing your older brother forward as a silent suggestion. You rolled your eyes.

The king ran a hand over his brown curls and shook his head at your father. “No, my lord, we have yet to choose.” Peter nodded in your direction. “I thought since most of baby Fallon’s life will be decided by me, his mother should have a say in that.”

Your father chuckled with a shake of his head. He clasped a hand on your shoulder, and you fought the urge to shrug it off. “Indecisive, this one, isn’t she?”

Peter glanced your way, “you have no idea.” The two men laughed, and you gnawed at the knob in the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood. Fallon yawned and you gave Peter a look. “I suppose, we should all greet our guests.”

“Oh, yes,” you nodded, “the christening. You go ahead, Peter. Someone should stay with Fallon.”

“Oh, nonsense, girl,” your father told you. “The nanny will – “

“She is my child and I will care for her. I do not need a nanny.” You snapped, your bottled up frustrations slowly bursting.

Peter laughed awkwardly, hands finding your waist though you pulled away from him. He coughed. “It’s the separation anxiety,” he joked with your father.

“Well, I never had that,” your mother piped up.

Of course, you didn’t. You sent me away as soon as Peter asked. You bit back the response.

Your family began to vacate the nursery and you felt a bit of relief. You felt Peter’s hands on your hips. You tensed when you felt his lips ghost over your ear. “Why don’t you join me in greeting our guests?” He asked you.

You shrugged him off. “I want to be alone.”

The young king sighed before releasing his hold on you. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned to you again. “You do realize your duty is not only to Fallon? It is to me and my kingdom as well.”

“I understand that my duty was to give you an heir,” you deadpanned. “I have done just that.”

“You have given me a daughter. Not an heir.” You glared at him and he immediately silenced.

“A daughter is an heir. Do not dare discredit her birthright because of her sex!” The babe began to stir in your arms and let out a small cry. You immediately shushed her, coddling her in your arms and she began to quiet.

You heard him sigh, defeatedly, before the door slammed shut again.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you stared at the child in your arms. Many times, you found peace in Fallon’s presence, but as time went on and as the child began to resemble her father, you began to worry. Though Fallon had adorable dark curls, she had striking blue eyes – ones that undoubtfully belonged to her father.

On the day you were to wed Peter, he had gotten caught up in the affairs of the state. The wedding was quickly rescheduled for two weeks after despite the protests of the nobles and royals who had all stayed extra days to witness your union. As you were doing the final adjustments to your gown, you realized you were due for a bleed that had yet to come and a sickening feeling of realization ran erupted through you. You did not consummate that night – your nerves and guilt making you sick to your stomach.

But you decided that you would survive – if not for yourself, then the life within you, the life in your arms now.

Moments later, the door creaked open and you let out a frustrated sigh. “Peter, I said I wanted to be alone – “in the silence, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand and a shiver run down your spine. A familiar feeling you wanted to forget. You turned around and your eyes widened. All the fury you felt, the regrets, the pain – all of it – melted in an instant.

“Steve.”

He stared at you with adoring eyes. You had grown more beautiful if that were even possible. Your glowed, motherhood becoming you. “(Y/N).”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You shook your head.

“You weren’t with Peter,” the Brooklyn king told you. “I thought you may have been with your child…” He chuckled. “Near the south wing, next to the staircase.”

“I love the sunlight it brings in.” You muttered. “Peter never lets Fallon out of the castle, so I suppose, it’s a substitute.” Steven nodded.

After beats of silence and longing stares, Steve finally said, “I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” You nodded. “At first I was angry. I cursed your name in the dead of night. I wished you were dead and I often pretended so.”

“I deserve worse.”

You laughed. “You do.”

“I did it because I was afraid if I took you from him, in a furious rage, he’d strike you down. You are not of Brooklyn. I could not protect you against your own king.” Steven explained.

You nodded. “I told you. I would marry into hell.”

“Has he been cruel?” Steven frowned, his fury slowly rising and hands forming fists.

You shook your head. “No, far from it, actually.” You chuckled humorlessly. “In fact, perhaps, I’ve been the cruel one. I push him away because I don’t want Falon to believe that he is her father – “

“What?”

You glanced down at the child in your arms and beckoned Steven with a cock of your head. The king slowly walked over to you and the babe. Steven’s eyes watered slightly as he stared at the small creation. “She’s … she’s mine?”

You nodded. “They pushed the wedding back two weeks and I didn’t… uh… I didn’t bleed… and I knew then. We didn’t consummate,” you saw how he frowned at that, “until a week or so after. I was with child not long after.”

“How do you know?” He asked you. “Not to be accusatory, but – “

“She has your eyes.” You smiled. “Every time she stares at me, it’s as if you are.”

“She looks like me,” Steven smiled, a gentle finger caressing the child’s plump cheeks. You nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to hold her?” You asked and he eagerly nodded. He took the child from you and you felt your heart swell when Fallon didn’t immediately begin to fuss like she would with Peter. “She likes you.”

“I hope so. I’m her father, after all.”

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder, both admiring the life that you both created. You imagined that this was your life… just for a moment. That you weren’t in Arachnia but in Brooklyn, bearing Steven’s name rather than Peter’s… Married to the one who truly held your heart.

You sighed, finding the calm in your daughter and your lover.

And in that moment… all was right.

let me know what y’all think

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smp-boundaries · 4 years

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List of Boundaries: Tubbo

• Profile pics: Tubbo does not mind profile pictures of himself as long as he doesn’t look “a right state” (UK slang meaning “a mess”). He also asked fans not to have him as their profile pictures if they are “chatting sh*t” about or “trying to cancel” his friends.

• Phone backgrounds: Tubbo has told someone on stream that he is okay with having phone backgrounds made of himself.

• Cosplay: He has also said that he’s fine with people cosplaying him!

• Shipping: Tubbo has expressed discomfort with the idea of being shipped in two separate sources - one more directly and one in agreement to TommyInnit asking if he’s not okay with it. Ranboo and Tubbo have both implied that their characters are romantically married, indicating that general ship content of their Dream SMP characters is fine; however, Ranboo has stated that he and Tubbo are unsure of their boundaries regarding this situation, so be cautious when making content of them. There has been no update since.

• Fanfiction: Tubbo does not like nsfw/ship fanfiction and has expressed discomfort with x readers, but has said he thinks any creative writing about him is “dope,” indicating that general fanfiction is fine.

• NSFW: TommyInnit has stated that Tubbo and him share the same view on NSFW of them - they are both uncomfortable with it (and are also both minors, so don’t condone it on a moral level). Tubbo was not there at the time of Tommy saying this but it can be assumed that they have talked about this off stream. Tubbo has also expressed dislike for nsfw fanfiction.

• Fanmerch: Tubbo replied “I guess it’s fine” to a dono asking about selling fanart of him.

• Privacy: Tubbo has stated he would like to keep his sexuality private.

• Names: Tubbo does not mind being called his real name by fans.

• Reuploaded content: On his main Twitch, Tubbo has stated he is fine with clips of his content being reuploaded, but not full VODs. On his alt Twitch, Tubbo stated full VOD uploads were fine.

• Feminine depictions: Tubbo has upvoted fanart of him in a dress on Reddit and wore a skirt for a subgoal once, indicating that feminine depictions of him in fan content are fine.

• General PSA: Also don’t infantilise him because he’s a minor, a lot of you guys are younger than him so you should know that this isn’t okay! Not everything he does is worthy of spamming ‘awwwww’ in the chat, even if it’s just ironic it’s still infantilising a lot of the time.

Evidence:

Phone backgrounds

Cosplay

this tumblr post which includes a clip about shipping

Tommy and Tubbo talking about shipping/stans

implying the Beeduo marriage is romantic: clip 1, clip 2, and 14:48 - 15:08 of this vod

Tommy on his and Tubbo’s opinion of NSFW of them

Fanmerch

Doesn’t want to look “a right state” in profile pictures

Don’t have him as your pfp if you’re in drama: 5:20 - 8:00 of this vod

Clip about enjoying a dream smp dbh au fanfic at 10:22 - 11:00

Tubbo on nsfw fanfiction

Tubbo reacting to an x reader fanfiction

Tubbo about fanfiction: 1:45:10 of this twitter space

About sexuality/privacy (backup link) (backup backup link)

on fans using his real name: 1:25:53 of this vod

about clips of his content (on main)

about full VODs (on alt)

upvoting dress fanart: 1:18 of this video

subgoal skirt

Tubbo has also spoken about delusions of him in this clip, saying it doesn’t bother him. As this is not something people can control, we aren’t listing it as a boundary of his that must be followed, but we wanted to document it.

[Image ID: a Twitter thread by Ranboo’s alt. He says “...Part and it is currently being handled. Secondly, NO MODS went behind my back to try and change it. I am not sure about the boundaries that both me and tubbo have in regards to this and we are both doing research in order to make the best decision both for us and the people that watch us We dont want to make anyone uncomfortable with how we portray our characters so I made the decision to not worry about changing the wiki until we both came to a decision on what to do I am sorry if this was not the correct course of action. Please let me know if it wasnt” /End ID]

#tubbo #mcyt #dream smp #boundaries list #smpb // aesthetic boards/photo edits #smpb // cosplay #smpb // shipping #smpb // fanfiction #smpb // names #smpb // fanmerch #smpb // profile pictures #smpb // reuploads

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ladybirdwithoutdots · 3 years

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I was just thinking about the fact Emma 2020 is clearly told from Emma's protagonist-perspective but Mr Knightley is the one character whose pov you see indipendently from her (or when she can see him) since his first scene, so he essentially is treated as co-protagonist by the narrative. Even his yellow riding coat seems to be a nod to Emma's own yellow ensemble but at the same time, it does place him in a co-lead role and there is even a parallel between Emma's scene with Harriet and his own scene with Robert Martin. One is meddling in Harriet’s personal life manipulating her, the other is accidentally finding himself on the side of a Harriet/Robert supporter, lol.

Notice for example that the only scene Harriet gets that is just about her (meaning not something functional to Emma's story or that Emma can see too) is the one in the end between her and Robert because it's the moment she gets rid of Emma's bad influence and makes her own choices following her own feelings, which signals her own character growth.

For Mr Knightley it's a bit on reverse because he has a different character arc: he starts as an independent character from Emma but as the story progresses, while he's still independent, he also realizes how much he needs her and the thought of losing her brings him despair, and from that moment (the aftermath of the ball), everytime you see him again it's about Emma. His character arc is about realizing how much being alone and independent isn't enough for him anymore..everything he was sure of before is challenged, and he understands and admits he actually needs Emma more than he could have ever imagined when he met her. In fact, in the end it's part of his independence he is willing to give up to be with the woman he loves. There is something foundamental Mr Knightley learns, and it's also part of understanding Emma's loneliness better than he ever did before.

A lot of things about Mr Knightley kind of represent an epiphany of sorts. There are phrases from the beginning that are foreshadowing of his own journey and his character arc. You could say he has to eat his own words too sometimes, lol. For instance, in his first scene with Emma he teases her about people crying at Miss Taylor's wedding: in the end you see him moved to tears at his own wedding^. And of course there is the infamous "I want to see Emma in love and with some doubt of a return" that backfires so much 😂.

I think it's a clever way to highlight his own character arc from the book too. In the novel, you think he's very independent mostly at the beginning (*) but with time, you realize in retrospect how much he needed Emma and why he spent so much time with her and her father. He's ok alone, he's a dynamic, independent and kinda energic person, but Donwell is empty (love the movie shows how much it's preserved but only his room is *home*. Cue the dust sheets covering the furniture in other rooms) and deep down a part of him longs for a companion, someone whom he can share his life with. He doesn’t realize that or admit it at first, in a way he thinks he’s independent and unaffected by some things but he realizes that he isn’t. Deep down he wanted to marry and have kids like his brother, and he could've easily found himself a wife but he was already in love with Emma without realizing it, somehow ‘waiting’ for her without knowing he was essentially doing that (it’s the same for her, they both subconsciously put their feelings away because they think the one person they really want isn’t interested about them that way). It's the discovery of his own loneliness, and how much he loves and needs Emma, that helps him understand her and her own loneliness (that she compensated with the match making and trying to find a friend in Harriet after the loss of Miss Taylor) even better. (*) (the beginning of the novel also coincides, for me, with the only time in the story where I do remember he’s older than her. By the time I get to the end, the more I realize he needs Emma and loves her, the more I forget about this aspect and he seems to be..younger. Funny enough, that’s also a moment in the story where Austen tells you that he comes across as young to Emma herself. The way she subtly hints that HE is the love interest is delightful btw.)

I must say, Emma has a similar journey about romance and marriage. At first, she thinks it isn't for her and she tells herself that she doesn't want to marry, when really the thing preventing her is mostly duty towards her father. I think a lot of people misunderstand her character to ostensibly try to make her a modern feminist heroine, which isn’t a bad thing per se but often it ends up erasing a good part of her own character arc and what still is a very important point. The thing is, Emma does have a romantic heart that she tries to express through match-making by finding a companion for her friends, because in that moment it's the only way she feels she's allowed to experience romance too. Emma thinks she’s free but she really isn’t, psychologically at least she is trapped in a cage where her father’s needs are the priority no matter what her heart wants or may want. This aspect is important because at the beginning of the story, she's naive and an unreliable narrator of herself and her feelings. In the end, when her delusions shatter she realizes she isn’t as immune to some things as she thought she was, and she had always been in love with Mr Knightley. You could argue that it’s not so true Emma isn't interested about romance or marriage... she is, with the man she loves. She simply isn’t ready at the beginning, nor she thinks she is allowed to have what she wants. In fact, she does a 180° about the whole "I don't want to get married" thing when he asks her to marry him, and she is pained by the idea that they wouldn't be able to marry asap because of her father. You'd think it wouldn't make a big difference for her either way given Mr Knightley would still be with them every day like be always was, and she could still preserve their routine that was so dear to her; but it's not enough for her anymore. Acting as friends only isn't enough anymore. That's why she's pained by the idea she may not be allowed to marry him asap: she longs to have a companion, to have an intimacy she wouldn't be allowed to have with him without being married. And when he does find a perfect solution so they can be together, she's conflicted about his sacrifice but also incandescently happy that they can marry sooner than she thought they'd be allowed to. The point is, part of Emma's coming of age arc is discovering her own sexual agency too, and the fact she finds herself wanting things she didn't think she even wanted before. Austen is subtle like you'd expect her to be in context but that’s what she implies in the end, in the most dignified way sure but she does that in the way Emma's feelings about marriage completely change when she knows she's in love and he loves her back.

It's also interesting to notice that, in a way, just like Mr Knightley understands some things about Emma better in the end when he discovers his own vulnerabilities, Emma also does start to fully understand and respect Harriet's feelings for Robert and his for her only when she herself realizes her own love for Mr Knightley, and thus she understands that marriage isn't necessarily just a matter of convenience like she thought it was.

(ps: I headcanon Emma as demisexual/demiromantic, btw. I feel like a lot of things about her make even more sense when you think that beside the lack of experience, she is someone who needs to be in love and share a strong bond with a person to fully understand and want some things. The moment at the ball when she’s dancing with Frank but she’s completely distracted by how attractive she finds Mr Knightley is one of my favorites. She’s generically able to appreciate people’s beauty from an aesthetic perspective such as noticing someone has pretty eyes or hair etc, but when it comes to real attraction Austen is all about Emma finding Mr Knightley hot because it’s him, not really because he has this or that physical feature she finds pretty.)

#emma 2020 #emma #emma x knightley #mr knightley #emma woodhouse

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lucycola · 3 years

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The Lone Survivor: Part 2

Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. The Golden Trio realize the footage from the wreck could wrongfully incriminate the reader. They attempt to find a way out of this. PART ONE HERE

SLOW BURN. Eventual smut in later parts. More Bones dialogue than probably necessary but WHATEVER. Fatherly Bones. There will be more one on one Reader and Spock in part three. Right now it plays like a normal episode with build up because I’m stubborn.

WARNINGS: Movie amnesia, sexual themes if you squint, mentions of death, and implied one-sided matrimony.

Part 2: The Night We Met I Knew I Needed You So

There was no mistaking the final moments illustrated in the found footage from the Calvary. It was you assaulting the crew on the bridge-you setting a course straight to destruction on Toravalve 9.

However, Mister Spock had disagreed. He had reached into your mind and saw you in your own eyes. It couldn’t have been you.

After carrying you back to the medbay you were put safely back in your bed with a Doctor McCoy who hovered over you like a disgruntled mother bear. With the tricorder at your forehead you pleaded with him to relax.

Captain Kirk had been summoned to hear what you both, or rather, Mister Spock had to say. For some stranger reason Spock omitted the existence of the orange tape. He deliberated his own findings via meld instead.

“A copy of sorts, Captain.”

“And you’re sure you saw the Lieutenant looking...at her own self?”

“As unlikely as it may seem, it is was I saw. Although it was also demonstrated that the Lieutenant received a severe head injury before witnessing her own self attack the crew members.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t some kind of...” Kirk deliberated for a moment, “... out of body experience.”

“Also unlikely. Although it is perceivable Lieutenant L/N maybe have suffered delusions after cranial trauma I possess a suspicion that an illusion was made unto the Lieutenant and the crew.”

Kirk glanced at you for a moment and back to Spock, quizzically at first, but then with a dashing smirk. “A hunch, Spock? How very...human.”

Spock quirked a brow, hands still stonily behind his back, “All endeavors begin with a hypothesis.”

“You believe me,” you murmured, from your bed still although no longer in your white, medbay gown you were graciously presented with black Starfleet fatigues. Nurse Chapel had gently maneuvered your unruly waves into two pleats that were coming undone slowly.

A stark contrast to the pristine, polished head science officer.

The fingers on Spock’s right hand flexed at the sound of your voice.

He only turned his head to look at you, “Empirical data is what needs to be obtained-whether I believe what memories are buried in your subconscious is incidental.”

“They still don’t feel real,” you admitted. Not even your name felt real.

“Such an admission will not help your case and I advise you keep that opinion to yourself, Lieutenant.”

You felt like he was chiding you. Your ground your jaw slightly and you knew he could feel it: the aggravation, the impatience. Fear.

His right fingers flexed again, but his expression, unchanging as ever, gave nothing away.

The electric pool of warmth in the back of your mind hushed you, told you to remain calm. Diplomatic.

How could looking at your own self feel real? ‘She’ seemed so real. You had walked around the corner and met yourself, squaring you up instantly. She lunged for you and you wrestled with her, shocked at the fact that you had your own hands around your throat. They weren’t your hands. It was an imposter.

How? That was the real question.

“How do we find proof then, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked, reinserting himself.

“We locate the imposter and confirm my hypothesis.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Kirk replied.

“Indeed it will not be so. Commander Craft is aware of the meld that took place and will order me to testify my findings against the lieutenant. Until the Lieutenant’s sanity can be declared-”

“I’m sure I can help with that,” the doctor said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

“What is left is concrete evidence,” Spock added.

“The imposter,” Kirk finished, nodding.

“Who’s Commander Craft?” you asked.

He turned to look at you. You were made to feel the oblivious child with everyone in the room talking about you. However, you listened and you absorbed. You were careful with your input. Listen first, talk later, you thought to yourself. The presence in the back of your mind hummed in monotonic approval as if to say, good girl.

You wondered what those words tasted like on Spock’s lips. You shuddered in embarrassment and turned your head away.

Spock coughed uncharacteristically, “Commander Craft is the elected official heading the investigation crew from the Federation. We were contacted yesterday and were to present a full report of our findings and happenings.”

Which included the bond. That detail in itself was still above you, not fully explained nor understood. You could feel it for what it was and knew he was there. Not why or how, however.

“We must garner more time,” Spock continued to his captain, “And possibly keep myself from testifying.”

“We could declare you insane,” the doctor quipped earning another brow arch from his opposing.

“You’re asking for a loophole,” Kirk stated.

“Essentially, Captain.”

Kirk seemed to know there was more to it, the way he pursed his lips and put his fists on his hips. You knew yourself that if Spock testified against you with what he saw in the meld then there was no evidence against you truly-just what you yourself witnessed. However, Spock would be asked to tell the whole truth and that included the tape. If you were deemed crazy then your own experiences would be null and void.

Did Kirk already know about the tape?

Kirk sighed,” Spock, I...we’d be misleading not only Starfleet, but the Federation. This isn’t the first time you’ve-” he glanced at you, “-taken the unorthodox route to obtain justice.”

“Then I am asking for your trust, Captain.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed then softened. He relented and with a sturdy tone which meant business as he relayed, “I suppose you already a loophole in mind then?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Spock paused, fighting to look at you.

“Well, aren’t you gonna tell us?” the doctor asked.

“Proposals are not so elementary to make on Vulcan, even when it is logical...but also yet not as it could fare unfavorable circumstances. Especially if one party is unwilling.”

It took Kirk a moment, and even the doctor even longer.

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re willing to marry her so you don’t have to testify?” he asked incredulously.

You were stupefied, impressed, but stupefied. The stoic Vulcan could play dirty. An actual proposal.

“You’re going to marry her?” Bones asked, mortified, “She’s a person...not a pawn! This is her life we’re meddling with. Marriage is a serious thing-”

“You’ll find, Doctor, that I am quite serious.”

“You could wreck her life.”

“I intend on saving it.”

Spock, your heart breathed.

“It seems like a reach for you, Spock,” Kirk said, “They would never believe the both of you, even if Y/N did agree.”

“It will be most believable as the Lieutenant and I have already made a bond.”

Silence befell everyone.

“You can’t be serious,” the doctor said finally, a fierce protectiveness in his voice. “At a time like this-”

“It was not intended as I am careful to shield my mind when partaking tactility with other forms-but, she called to me.”

And he had found you in the dark.

“She accepted it-although it is possible that may be due to the extreme duress she was suffering.”

“And you were there to save her,” Bones finished, a grave distaste in his voice.

“Such a bond can be mediated by a healer with moderate difficult just as a Terran divorce can be secured.”

It was a slap to the face. He was as willing to ‘save’ you as he was to dump you and leave you for dead. Red hot turmoil threatened in your core and you clenched your blankets. What was the point then?

Your crew was dead, your reputation tarnished, and everyone thought you were a murderer.

Let me die, you thought, just let me die.

“Certainly not,” Spock said quietly. Both the Captain and the Doctor eyed him wearily as this random statement.

“So you...negating your-”

“No, sir. I am simply waiting for Lieutenant L/N’s input on the matter.”

“There’s no way in hell she’d agree to this. The bond is clearly one-sided, Spock. How could you be so irresponsible?” Bones chided.

“A explanation escapes me.” He was still looking at you with smoldering eyes, with bright stars dancing behind them. Cold, but fierce.

What other shot did you have? How else could you bide time while searching for this monster? You wanted to give up. It would be easy.

Kirk leaned in to his second in command and suggested softly, “Perhaps you should ask more properly, Mister Spock. She is a lady. Bones is right. It’s her life.”

“Lieutenant-”

Kirk elbowed him.

“Y/N,” he corrected himself, “Will-”

“Yes,” you blurted in a hushed voice, “I will marry you, Mister Spock.”

You were left in your bed again under strict supervision this time. You reveled in the shock of what you’d just agreed to, and even the shock of the situation in its entirety. Rediscovering the monster that claimed your crew and your identity was still fresh and seeing it through your own eyes again with the meld drained the life out of you. You were exhausted, but your mind still raced. ‘It’ was on the ship-it had to be. They didn’t find a copy of you or anyone else in the wreckage. You wondered how recognizable some of your crewmates were and you had to still your frantic thoughts.

“What ever is going on up there it needs to stop. You heart rate is very high.” Doctor McCoy was already readying a hypo.

“That...thing. It might be here-”

“We’re on high alert, looking for any copies of ourselves. It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened,” he tried to assure you.

“There are no red lights.”

“They get annoying after awhile. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at hiding. But we’ll flush it out. The Captain has a plan.”

“Did Mister Spock tell you the imposter can read your memories? That’s how it tricked me. Did he tell the captain?” you asked, wring your hands with the blanket.

“Your guess is better than mine.”

You thought back to Spock’s omission to the orange tape. Always flipping back and forth between elusive affection and monotonous professionalism. Marry me. Divorce after.

“He’s hard to place sometimes.”

“And you agreed to marry him.”

“I did,” you blurted stubbornly. “We’re bonded.”

Bones suddenly became eye level with you, bracing both hands on the rail. “But do you know what that even means?”

You arched a brown similar to Vulcan fashion, “Do you, good doctor?”

Bones shook his head and instead asked, “Sleep now or later? Does it help with the nightmares?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, I think. Doctor?”

“Yes, kitty?”

“Thankyou.”

Sleep was apart of the healing process and being roused from it interrupted that. That was at least what Bones tried to argue when the captain requested your presence in the conference room. Flanked by your fiancé and the kindly captain himself you were expected to hold an interview of sorts with Commander Craft via telecom before his arrival at the crash site. Several ships had already come to help clean up.

“What am I supposed to say?” you half pleaded with them, “I’m not good at lying.”

“You do not have to be deceitful. However, if you find yourself under duress the commander may suspect a guilt as I had sensed upon our initial meeting,” Spock replied, one arm linked on your good side.

Your other arm supported a crutch when had a nervous hand floating behind it via the captain.

Kirk shot a reassuring look your way. “I recommend the truth. Tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a stickler for rules and he’s tough on the stand-”

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“Or...a bit of theatrics couldn’t hurt if you get too overwhelmed. You did just lose your crew.”

“How could I forget?” Your lip quivered.

You three paused at the door.

“I trust my first officer, Y/N,” Kirk turned to face you, “As unorthodox as this has become, I put trust into his melds and by what he has told me you didn’t do anything wrong. That thing-that monster did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears dribbling. “Captain, I let my crew die.”

“Any death having occurred was unintentional on your part, Lieutenant, ”Spock said in his chilly tone, “As was demonstrated in your memory you tired to apprehend and fend off the creature, but to no avail. You did everything in your power. The human emotional phenomena your are experiencing is common upon singular entities having being spared from genocide.”

“That is?” Kirk asked.

“Survivor’s guilt,” you sighed, finishing the statement for you fiancé.

Commander Craft was not unkind, nor did he smile. He was neither young or old and his questions were fairly basic as the captain’s were three days earlier. You recounted all you could remember, and it was stressed by you and the captain that you had lost most of your general memory due to head trauma. Whether he seemed convinced was unknown to you. You tried to hold back in your distress. The warmth in the back of your mind wrapped around the little knot that pain and anxiety was birthed. It was squeezed it slowly, like the grasp of a hand. You delivered your answers calmly.

“The double of yourself, you saw. Did you see it transform from your father to yourself?” the commander asked.

“No sir.”

“Have you seen a copy of yourself since you boarded the Enterprise?”

“No sir.”

“And no foreign entity has been detected on the ship?”

“No sir,” the captain replied.

“Mmm,” the commander paused for the first time in what seemed like hours. “L/N, had you ever experiences delusions or hallucinations before?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And did you experience the trauma to your head before or after you saw yourself sabotaging the ship?”

“I...” you glanced, “I’m not sure. After?”

“Do you remember hitting your head at all?”

“I remember the copy throwing me hard against the wall and everything going black.” You tried to strengthen your voice, but it kept cracking. You heart continued to race. “And-”

It flashed.

“When I let my father on the ship. I went black there too. But I’m not sure if I hit my head that time.”

“And Mister Spock you were able to witness what Lieutenant L/N saw?”

“Affirmative.”

“But...through her point of view.”

Fuck. You had a feeling he would try to pull the crazy card.

“Were there any observation tapes recovered from the crash?”

“My crew obtained few, but to my knowledge they are still processing them,” the captain answered smoothly.

“Has any other information been made available to any of you?”

You could feel the edges of your vision blacken. You couldn’t make eye contact with him. Cold sweat had broken from your brow. A cold, steady hand placed itself to your brow. The natural warmth on your mind shimmered.

“She has a fever, Captain.”

“I won’t tolerate any nonsense, Lieutenant-”

“Commander, she has just lost four-hundred members of her family to a people-eating imposter!” Kirk bellowed lowly, “She’s kept it together well so far. I commend her efforts. You have the wrong idea about her.”

“Until I can find proof of this ‘imposter’ and until her psyche can be cleared by one of our doctors then we’ll see. This isn’t the first time the Federation has had to deal with the Enterprise’s shenanigans.”

“People eating?” you whispered in disbelief. Oh my god.

Spock caught on to Kirk’s unnecessary honesty. “It was discovered the imposter’s prime directive was to use the Calvary’s crew as sustenance.”

You toppled forwards and were caught and cradled by your fiancé.

“Take her to the medbay, Mister Spock,” Kirk ordered.

“Call for the doctor. I am not taking my eyes off her until we arrive!” the commander snapped.

“By the time Doctor McCoy arrives she will succumb to shock. I must attend to my t’hy’la in the most logical and efficient manner possible.”

Kirk fought the need to smile, not realizing that your theatrics weren’t really theatrics.

PART THREE

#spock #mister spock #mr spock #startrek #tos #star trek #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #doctor mccoy #bones #jim kirk #captain kirk #kirk #oc #reader #slow burn #song lyrics of chapter is Be My Baby by The Ronettes

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hime-memes · 2 years

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On this edition of ‘ Hime grabs a book she doesn’t remember owning and making a meme ! ‘: We have some sassy starters from ‘ The Snark Bible ‘ - a compilation of clapbacks and funny quotes.

As always: Feel free to change anything within these starters that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !

Recommended For: Whichever muse needs to be feisty, but, like, right this second.

** Any slight wording changes / sentence break ups made to the original text is to accommodate for RP purposes or more clarity. **

Trigger Warning: Swearing, alcohol mentions, drug mentions, infidelity, NSFW themes may also be present in some.

“ I haven’t committed a crime. What I did was fail to comply with the law. ” “ one of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important. “ “ Hard work is damn near as overrated as monogamy. “ “ Disobedience, noun. The silver lining to the cloud of servitude. “ “ This isn’t an office; It’s hell with fluorescent lighting ! ” “ The fact that no one understands you, does not mean you’re an artist. “ “ I like you ... you remind me of when I was young and stupid. “ “ I’m not being rude: you’re just insignificant. “ “ It’s a thankless job, but i’ve got a lot of karma to work off. “ “ I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public. “ “ Someday, we’ll look back on this, laugh nervously, and change the subject. “ “ Beware the lollipop of mediocrity; lick it once and you’ll suck forever ! “ “ We passed over a lot of good people to get the ones we hired. “ “ To ere is human, to blame somebody else shows good management. “ “ Ham and eggs is just a day’s work for the chicken, but a lifetime commitment for the pig. “ “ I envy people who drink. At least they have something to blame everything on. “ “ When I read about the evils of drinking ... I gave up reading. “ “ A woman / man drove me to drink and i didn’t have the decency to thank her / him ! “ “ A bartender is a pharmacist with a limited inventory. “ “ Drugs may lead to nowhere - but at least it’s the scenic route. “ “ I don’t like people who take drugs ... customs men, for example. “ “ I would never do crack. I would never do a drug named after a part of my ass, okay ? “ “ I hate to advocate for drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone: but, they’ve always worked for me. “ “ It’s a scientific fact, for every year a person lives in Hollywood, they lose 2 IQ points. “ “ He is the type of man who will end up dying in his own arms ! “ “ An actor is a guy, who if you ain’t talkin’ about him, he ain’t listening. “ “ Oh, wake up ( Name ), you’d be killing yourself to an empty house. The audience left 20 years ago ! “ “ Ordinarily he is insane, but he has lucid moments when he is only stupid. “ “ You’re a mouse studying to be a rat. “ “ He knows so little and knows it so fluently ! “ “ He / She is one of those people who would be enormously improved by death. “ “ Maybe humans are just the pet alligators God flushed down the toilet. “ “ He / She is a bit like a corkscrew --- twisted, cold, and sharp. “ He had delusions of adequacy. ” “ I want to reach your mind --- where is it currently located ? “ “ she’s so boring, you fall asleep halfway through her name ! “ “ I regard you with an indifference that’s bordering aversion. “ “ She never lets ideas interrupt her easy flow of her conversation. “ “ You have an inferiority complex and it’s fully justified. “ “ Bachelors know more about women than married men; if they didn’t they’d be married too. “ “ I never knew what real happiness was until I got married. By then, it was too late. “ “ Married life teaches one invaluable lesson: to think of things far enough ahead not to say them. “ “ Early on - I let her know who was the boss. I looked her right in the eye and clearly said: ‘ You’re the boss. ‘ “ “ The trouble with some women is that they get all excited over nothing --- and then marry him. “ “ There’s only one way to have a happy marriage and as soon as I learn what it is --- I’ll get married again. “ “ One man’s folly is another man’s wife. “ “ Men don’t realize that if we’re sleeping with them on the first date, we’re probably not interested in seeing them again either. “ “ You know more about a man after one night in bed than in months of conversation. “ “ I’m afraid of the video guy judging me because I don’t want him to think I’m some sort of freaky pervert. So now, when I rent porn --- I’ll actually get Dirty Debutantes and Citizen Kane. He knows I’m a masturbating loser, but I’m a sophisticated masturbating loser. “ “ My girlfriend was complaining about my stamina in the sack, so I popped six viagra and drank a six-pack of Redbull. Her funeral is Tuesday. “ “ I think we can all agree - sleeping around is a great way to meet people. “ “ His finest hour lasted a minute and a half. “ “ My ex and I had the best sex during our divorce. It was like cheating on our lawyers. “ “ How many husbands have I had ? ... You mean apart from my own ? “ “ I enjoy dating married people.They never want anything kinky, like breakfast. “ “ There are times not to flirt: Like, when you’re sick ... or, when you’re on the witness stand ... “ “ You don’t know a woman until you’ve met her in court. “

#rp meme #book-based starters #quote starters #Roleplay memes #sentence starter meme #sentence starters

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rachelbethhines · 3 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - The King and Queen of Hearts

The existence of this episode just baffles me, as it undermines so much of what season three was trying to accomplish.

Summary: Rapunzel continues to try and restore the memories of her parents, King Frederic and Queen Arianna, and hopes to use the journal of Herz Der Sonne to remind them, but they do not understand the significance. Arianna still lusts for adventure, while Frederic cannot get over his obsession of egg collecting. Rapunzel recruits her friends to try and set up the perfect date for them and while they cannot find anything in common personality wise, they share a mutual love for Rapunzel. However, King Trevor arrives with the intent to woo Arianna using an ocean crystal he found.

So What Exactly Is the History Here?

We have no context for this sudden love triangle. All we know is that Trevor hates Frederic because he’s still in love with Arianna who wound up marrying him instead.

But like, I don't know why Arianna married Frederic. I don’t know why Trevor is still hung up on her years later. Did she actually choose Frederic or was it an arranged marriage cause that’s what royalty did back then? Was she having an affair with Trevor this whole time but couldn’t/wouldn’t leave because of duty? Was she and Trevor pining star crossed lovers, or is Trevor just an incel?

I know what the story wants me to assume; that Arianna deeply loves Frederic and that Trevor is just a jackass loser; but the series has done such a poor job of making Frederic likable and giving him and Arianna any sort of chemistry that I’m inclined to side with Trevor.

For all we know, he may be trying to rescue Arianna from both her memory loss and her abusive relationship while at it. Especially now that she’s no longer needed as a ruler and has no reason to stay in Corona.

Why Not Just Use the Potion from Rapunzel: Day One?

While any Varian cameo is appreciated, it doesn’t add thing to the story. In fact it only raises more questions. We already had a cure for the memory loss, why aren’t we using it?

Even if we write it off as Rapunzel no longer having that particular Saporian spellbook on hand, she still has a whole dungeon full of actual Saporians who know magic that she could gain information from! There’s also Xavier, who already knows everything under the sun about Saporian/Coronian history and magic and owns spellbooks galore. You’re telling me he just has mood potions lying around but can’t brew up a cure for memory loss?

Then there’s also the fact that the amnesia spell doesn’t work on Rapunzel’s parents the same as it did on Rapunzel and we’re never given a reason why. Like just some basic consistence is all I ask show.

I also can’t figure out what Varian is even trying to do here. Where’s is the science to this? What does strawberry goop and lighting have to do with memory? It’s just a cheap reference to Frankenstein and nothing more.

We’re Already Pass Seven Months Since Rapunzel’s Return.

Ok, I have gotten into frequent debates with people about the timeline of season three. Many a story board artist and writer on the show have came forward and stated that season three was only one year. But the very existence of this episode disproves them!

If you remember season one, Hearts Day took place after the Goodwill Festival, but before Queen for a Day. Even when putting episodes back into their intended production order that still remains true.

Hearts Day has to be at least seven months past Rapunzel’s birthday, if not eight months, because the Goodwill Festival is six months past and her parent’s anniversary (QfaD) is nine months past.

Now Rapunzel’s Return has to be Rapunzel’s 20th birthday because season two was a full year, and even if you say it’s not, then that still doesn’t explain Once a Handmaiden (the Goodwill Festival) coming after this episode.

And no you can’t move the episodes around, Once a Handmaiden has be the second to last episode of the series and Under Raps always comes after Rapunzel’s Enemy in any order you watch the series in.

No matter how you slice it, we’re missing a birthday episode for Rapunzel and season three has to be more than a year; a year and a half at the very least, if not two full years.

Look I’m not trying to be disrespectful of the talented artists who worked on this show, but their word isn’t law. The very fact that they’ve had to tell us the timeline after the series was over with indicates bad writing, and the very fact that the show itself contradicts them indicates either a lack of communication behind the scenes or a lack of editorial oversight. Either option is just poor management.

We Have Yet Another Failed Narrative Promise!

Are we seeing a pattern yet?

This is the third time in a row where the episode flat out states that Rapunzel needs to learn something and then, just, never has her learn it; four if you count her non-apology to Varian. Instead the show rewards her for her bad behavior by just giving her want she wants on a sliver platter for no adequate reason.

In fact, one could argue that this episode is the worst offender in the show because divorce is a real thing real kids have to go through. Children that will undoubtedly watch the series.

How upsetting would it be to such a child to watch Rapunzel force her parents back together with zero consequences and realize that they can’t do that in real life? It can potentially feed into misplaced delusions or make them even more bitter, either way it’s unhealthy and super irresponsible to tackle such subject matter in this way. Even Sesame Street handled the topic of divorce better than this supposedly ‘mature’ show.

It’s a Castle! Why Can’t Frederic Get His Own Room?

Frederic is the king. He still technically owns everything even if he’s not the one still in charge. He could have his pick of any room so why is he forcing himself on Eugene? Hell he doesn’t even have to stay in the castle. As pointed out during The Return of the King review, there’s other accommodations within the kingdom that’s suited for royalty. Why not head up to that mountain retreat?

This is a Really Bad Message

I understand that this is meant to be a joke, because of how ridiculously over the top it is, but because the series gives Rapunzel what she wants in the end without ever having her acknowledge how she is wrong here, it winds up validating her toxic world view anyways.

Divorce is not inherently a bad thing. We should be working towards both normalizing it and promoting healthy coping mechanisms for those that go through it, adult and child alike. What Rapunzel is doing here is just repeating puritanical fearmongering. And while I can understand why she might behave in this way, I don't understand why the show refuses to call her out on it. Or any of the other million bad behaviors she displays repeatedly through out the show... like the example below for instance...

Why Am I Suppose to Like Rapunzel Again?

It’s like the writers don’t understand that a joke can damage a character, especially if it’s overplayed. Super sweet upbeat Rapunzel snapping because she finally met someone who was annoying or a situation she couldn’t just solve with a positive attitude was funny maybe like the first time; but we’re three seasons in and this is supposedly her closest loved ones.

Look at them! They’re fucking terrified of her! All they did was point out that she maybe should do her job and deal with real problems instead of poking her nose into her parents business where it doesn’t belong! And this brat is now the ruler of the whole kingdom!? No one can legally stand up to her.

Like where’s the Eugene that stood up to her in Under Raps for trying this same bullshit? Why hasn’t she learned her lesson? She also pulled this same bullying tactic on young Lance and teen Eugene two episodes. Cass left her ass, supposedly, because of her bossy thoughtless ways. And this is also the same woman who abused a child back in season one and still has never acknowledged it.

Yes characters should be flawed, but they should also face real consequences for their actions, and if they’re a protagonist they need to learn and grow past their flaws.

I actively started to dislike Rapunzel after this scene. I already felt something was off way back in the season three opener, but this is the point where I stopped and went “What the fuck?” She used to be my second favorite character behind Varian. I didn’t go into this wanting to hate her, even after this episode I still held out hope that they were trying to purposefully lead up to some sort of falling out with everyone and with Rapunzel having to own up to her bullshit in order to win. You know like a classic third act “the hero is now alone due to their past mistakes” type story. But Nope!

There’s no pay off for any of this. Rapunzel is just mean for the sake of being mean in season three, and no one is aloud to call her out on it. She’s now the same type person as Frederic, a tyrant. That’s not a good development!

She’s Literally Bullying Her Own Parents Now, and I’m Suppose to Find that Funny?

Yes, Frederic is her abuser, and yes some people might find this scene cathartic if they hate him. But this isn’t actually calling out his past abuse. It’s just Rapunzel treating a now powerless old man with that same abuse and denying him bodily autonomy. An old man who has both less political rights and less power within the relationship than her; since due to his memory loss he is now dependent upon her.

In the real world it’s the equivalent of picking on an Alzheimer's patient who is in your care. I don’t give a shit how much of dick they were before the illness set in, you don’t fucking do that!

Why Should I Want Arianna and Frederic To Be a Couple?

The show has done nothing to sell this relationship. In fact one could argue that the show is trying to purposefully sabotage it.

Before the memory loss Frederic was proven to be abusive, to the point where even his own wife was afraid of him and wouldn’t stand up to him. Meanwhile Arianna was shown to be a shell of her former self who’d all but given up upon the things she actually enjoyed in life. And now that they both have had a second chance they have even less motive to stay together.

Look at Arianna up there? She’s clearly not enjoying her time with him. While he doesn’t want to engage in anything that she likes. I mean a couple doesn’t have to share their interests in everything, but there still has to be some sort of connection and the series just does not give us that connection.

There’s no reason why they should stay together. They no longer have any commitment or duty to fulfill as rulers and their daughter is fully grown. Contrary to what Rapunzel says, the kingdom isn’t going to fall apart if they separate. It actually would probably better for everyone, including Rapunzel, if they got divorced. At least then she’d have to grow up somewhat and stop being a controlling asshat.

Why is Attila Here?

I thought Attila got a job running his own bakery and that it was Lance who became the new cook at the Snuggly Duckling? Even if you argued that Attila was just doing Rapunzel a solid that still wouldn’t explain who is running the place when Lance isn’t there.

If you’re going to set up developments like that then you need to either stick with them or give an on screen reason for why these previous developments are no longer relevant. Flat out ignoring them like this is just lazy.

Lance’s New Outfit is the Best Thing About the Episode, and It’s Also a Complete Waste.

Lance deserved a new outfit because the team was too lazy to give him one for season two, even during the island arc. This however is a waste because it doesn’t add anything to the narrative. People were paid to make this thing for it to only show up for a few seconds of screen time.

This Whole Exchange Is Gross.

Oh let me count the ways in which this is so, so stupid.

Neither Rapunzel nor Frederic has ever proven themselves “thoughtful and responsible.” In fact both of them being irresponsible is intentionally a plot point in the main story arc.

How would either Frederic or Arianna know any of this? Not only have they lost their memories, but they didn’t raise Rapunzel themselves and those traits aren’t inherited; they are taught.

Gushing over your grown daughter isn’t a point of connection!

Why would anyone be compelled to kiss a practical stranger, that they previously didn’t even like, just because they both admire some woman they also barely know and happen to be related to? What is the thought process behind this? “Oh we made that? Then lets make another one!” What the fuck show? I’m ace and even I know that’s not a normal thing to get titillated over.

The Series Turns Frederic Into a Literal Baby In a Last Ditch Effort to Make Him Likable

The whole point behind the amnesia plot was to absolve Frederic of his past wrong doings. You can’t call out an old man with Alzheimer's for being a dictator, I suppose. (not like that’s ever stopped me from criticizing Ronald Reagan, tho) But from there the series then takes it one step further and actually infantilizes both Frederic and Arianna, because Chris assumes that if he makes Fredric as pathetic as possible the audience won't hate him any more. Well guess what, it didn’t work. Frederic isn’t suddenly a poor woobie just because he’s useless now. That’s not how that works.

Rapunzel Literally Physically Assaults a Person, Kidnaps Them, Threatens Them With Even More Bodily Harm, and Causes an International Incident; All Because They Asked Her Mom Out On a Date!

You can’t hear it in the screen shots, but there’s very clearly a clanging sound to indicate that Rapunzel just wacked Trevor upside the head and knocked him out.

Let me repeat, a Disney protagonist just committed armed assault against a guy, simply because she doesn’t respect her own mother.

What the Fuck!!!???

Arianna is fully grown woman. She is perfectly capable of making her own choices and she agreed of her own volition to go out with him. In fact she’s the one who asked Trevor if she could come along on his sea voyage. It’s not Rapunzel’s place to interfere with that.

Secondly, Rapunzel shouldn’t get a free pass to attack people just because she’s doesn’t like them. And she most assuredly shouldn’t get to write off her cruelty as justice because she's royalty! What the hell? You just turned one of your official princesses into a literal tyrant for the sake of a joke, Disney!

Where the fuck was the oversight on this show!?

And to top it all off, Trevor is a ruler of a competing kingdom. This could easily have been deemed an act of war. Thankfully for everyone involved Trevor has far more sense and compassion than Rapunzel and doesn’t push the matter.

Yes that’s right! The intentionally annoying prat and comedic antagonist is a more upstanding person than the main heroine! Let that sink in!

Wait, If Laws Don’t Apply Out In the Ocean, Then Why Did Eugene and Max Have Jurisdiction to Arrest Lady Caine in Peril on the High Seas?

Max shoved this same rule book into Eugene’s face when Eugene rightfully questioned if it was his job to arrest the mutineers. This book said that it was not only his job, but that he was also legally required to stop any and all ‘wrongdoing’ no matter where he was at nor whether he was on duty or not. While also failing to specify what ‘wrongdoing’ entailed.

Now that’s very problematic and ridiculous for a whole host of reasons that I’ve already covered back in my review of Peril on the High Seas, but this scene now adds a whole new layer of stupidity to the mix.

If zero laws apply out in open waters than yes, Eugene and Max were acting out of their jurisdiction. Not only that, but the pervious dumb rule regarding their duties is also now null and void. So, Justice For Lady Caine!

Oh, but were not done yet, cause it gets dumber.

If laws, including marriage don't apply, then getting married while out at sea also would not apply. Thereby rendering Trevor’s plan useless, unless they got married back in Equis. Which if they did that, it would bypass the entire pointless rule book completely because Equis is not subject to Corona’s laws anyways.

There’s not even any ‘inter-kingdom’ laws that they would be subject too because Equis isn’t a part of the seven kingdoms. Any treaty they did previously have with Corona would be something else entirely, and Trevor would be within his rights to end such an agreement.

Also Trevor is a king. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. Same goes for Arianna.

Ummm, No You Don’t Rapunzel

Trevor can’t marry Arianna without her agreement to it. It’s already been established that she’s physically capable of taking care of herself and she’s also mature enough to make her own decisions. If she did wind up marrying him it’d be because it’s her fucking choice to and Rapunzel has zero right to interfere with that.

There’s no one to rescue here. Rapunzel has no reason to go chasing after her mom. All this is doing is denying a grown woman agency over her own life. Why should I or anyone, root for Rapunzel here?

You Do Know That Arianna Has More Than Just Two Choices Here, Don't Ya Show?

Arianna doesn’t have to be in any relationship. That’s also an option. While I personally like Trevor, this shouldn’t be a choice between him or Frederic. The show should be asking what Arianna, as a character, would want for her life, instead of just shoehorning her into just being a wife for someone else.

I still don’t know what Arianna really wants in life, but I do know that being a domestic housewife and a queen does not suit her. She doesn’t actually like being tied down with commitments and responsibilities. She’s repeatedly indicated over and over again that she feels uncomfortable in her role.

But the show reduces her into trophy to win and turns her into a damsel in distress multiple times. Then it further neuters her so that she complacently walks back into that life over and over again for no logical reason. She’s treated not as a person but as a prop.

Really, Arianna? Are You Really Sure About That?

These aren’t Arianna’s words. They’re Chris’s.

Arianna has shown zero interest in Frederic up to this point. The closest they got was during that creepy boat scene where they just jumped to almost kissing for no real reason. While before now Arianna was making actual goo-goo eyes at Trevor earlier, before Raps stepped in and broke them up.

They actually do have things in common and had a genuine point of connection. They even almost kissed themselves until Raps started being a dick. No forced and icky conversations about their grown children needed here folks!

While I still firmly believe Arianna should just be single, the show does far more to convince me that she and Trevor should be together more so than her and Frederic. Everything about this scene on the boat feels forced and hollow because it doesn’t ring true to what was previously established.

This just isn’t good writing. It’s the animation equivalent of a six year old smashing their Barbie dolls faces together and shouting “now kiss!”, all because a middle aged man couldn’t get over they fact people didn’t like his self insert.

No, wait, I apologize. That’s being mean to six year olds. They usually have more interesting plots and established characterization than this.

Hey, Remember When the Series Villainized an Orphan For Stealing This Stupid Book?

Yeah, stealing the book was treason and the mains ruined a child’s life over it, but apparently it just doesn’t matter any more cause no one seems to give a shit about Trevor taking it. Like, yes, as the king of another kingdom, Trevor isn’t beholden to Frederic’s bullshit, but you would think that the characters would treat this as a bigger deal than what they do, given how they responded previously to it being taken.

Unless Rapunzel was just talking out of her ass back during The Alchemist Returns. That’s also quite possible.

This Literally Has Nothing To Do With You Rapunzel

Just because Rapunzel herself is a woman, doesn’t mean that stealing the agency of another female character isn’t misogynist. Especially when their both written by primarily men.

Every guy who was involved with the writing of the episode, should be fucking ashamed of themselves!!!

So What Exactly Has Trevor Done Wrong Up To This Point?

Yes, the story board artists and voice actors do a lot of heavy lifting here to try and make Trevor seem like a creep. Arianna’s body language and tone of voice when dealing with him here will be very familiar to a lot of women, I’m sure. I know what it’s like to have a stalker and not know how to turn them down because you’ve been trained all your life to ‘be polite and nice” to people, and I’m not unique in that regard.

But here’s the thing, it’s not set up properly. There’s nothing backing this sudden shift in the characters’ dynamic. Up till now Trevor has been a perfect gentlemen. Sure he was over the top as always, and you could call it an act when regarding his politeness to Frederic, but he seemed to genuinely respect and admire Arianna and clearly desires genuine affection in return from her. Why would he suddenly stop behaving in a way that worked for him and start talking over her instead?

Also why wouldn’t Arianna just tell him no to begin with if that’s what she wants? She had no trouble speaking her mind before now. But that begs the question why she wouldn’t return his feelings as well, because as stated above, she clearly showed interest in him previously.

This is So Fucking Forced

Yeah, okay, you’re daughter has no reason to be here to begin with, disrespected your wishes, and attacked Trevor first. At this point I’d argue he has a right to retaliate. Especially since, if Rapunzel was allowed to board, you know she’d just attack him again, because she knows no other way to resolve conflicts other than to hit people very hard.

Arianna’s actions here only make sense if she’s kept in the dark about what an awful human being her daughter really is. That’s poor writing.

Also, having a woman just punch people while denying them actually agency and choice within the plot is not ‘girl power.’ It’s fucking misogyny!

How Does Doing the Bare Minimum, and Just Showing Basic Human Decency Count As ‘True Love’?

What was she suppose to do? Let him drown? I mean I wouldn’t, and I despise the man. Not to mention anyone else could have done the same thing. They’re all right there. If Lance had jumped to the rescue would Trevor have proclaim them lovers too?

Trevor Is Still the Better Man Here

Here he is rescuing Rapunzel even after she treated him like shit.

Best. King. Period.

This Still Doesn’t Redeem Frederic

So through out the episode Frederic has inexpiably shown an obsession for eggs. He now collects them even though this was never an established trait before now. But whatever. He’s just been through something traumatic and looking for something to ground himself. Far be it from me to make fun of someone else’s special interest. If you like to collet eggs than good for you. Go live your life to fullest.

That’s more respectful than how the show handles it, as everyone dismiss his interest and it’s treated like a joke through out the episode. Only to have said obsession save the day. But this isn’t here to teach the others about respecting other people’s hobbies, oh no, it’s here to try and give Frederic a big hero moment so you’ll cheer for him.

Except one nice thing does not erase his past actions! I don’t care what your hobby is, if you deliberately try to cause grievous harm to people you’re and asshole! And you will continue to be an asshole until you can admit what you’ve done wrong and try your best to make up for it.

I Hope You Made Back Up Copies of The Tunnel Maps

A bunch of people are more upset over this development than I am, because it is a historical artifact and preserving the past is important. But the only story function the book held was a map to the tunnels, and said tunnels were never utilized properly through out the entire show.

To this day people still don’t understand that they’re meant connect the island to Old Corona or that Herz Der Sonne is the one who built them into order to invade Saporia because the show is so bad at its world building. And come season three, they’re all but irrelevant anyways. Such a wasted concept.

Once Again the Whole ‘Memory Loss’ Subplot Is a Copout

Ok that’s not how the spell worked previously, but that’s not what I’m taking issue with here.

If the whole point behind the amnesia plot twist was to sweep Frederic’s awfulness under the rug, then I expect his past actions to be addressed once he’s regained his memories. They are not.

This episodes reverses the very thing that the season was trying to achieve and just hopes the audience is too stupid/attention deficient to notice. Well guess what, we noticed and we’re far smarter than you Chris.

Conclusion

I don’t understand the point of this episode. It shoots everything season three is trying to do in the foot. It screws up the timeline, makes Rapunzel even more of an irredeemable dickhead while preventing her from learning yet another needed lesson, undermines Arianna as a character once again, and it puts Frederic back in the crosshairs of the audience’s scrutiny.

Oh and look, it’s written by the same guy who wrote Rapunzel’s Return. Why am I not surprised.

Anyways another one down and only 15 more to go. You can support my continued marathon by dropping a tip in my ko-fi if you wish. I’m currently back to job hunting yet again and anything you can give is appreciated.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#Rapunzel #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #ferderic #arianna #tangled #tangled the series

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kelyon · 3 years

Text

Golden Rings 25: A Challenge

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Lacey faces her greatest struggle yet.

Read on AO3

She wakes up screaming. Her body is rigid, helpless, wracked with pain. Her tongue burns with the sour juice of an apple. Cruel hands are on her, pinching, clawing, grabbing--!

Her husband is already holding her, even before she understands that the nightmare is over. He rocks her back and forth like a child. He strokes her hair and murmurs soft words. He wipes away her tears.

She cries until her chest hurts. Until she is wrung out from it. Until she has no more tears and her noises are more moans than sobs. He holds her through it all. He never lets her go.

Gasping for breath, she tries to speak. It isn’t needed, he knows what memories plague her thoughts. She doesn’t need to explain herself to him.

But she wants to say the words out loud. Fears are most powerful when they are hidden, like monsters lurking in deep water. If she brings them up to the surface, if she exposes them to the light, they will be weakened.

“It was--them.” Her chest heaves. She rests on him. He is there. No matter what, he is always there.

“They’re not here,” he whispers, as he does every time this happens. “You’re home, you’re safe here, sweetheart.” He takes her hand, presses her wedding ring to his lips. “You are mine now. They will never hurt you again.”

Shuddering, she curls into a ball in his arms. “I know,” she whispers. “I know, Rumple. In my mind I have no doubts. In my heart, I trust you--I do! But these nightmares, these memories… They keep happening.”

“Less and less often.” He kisses the top of her head, clutches her tightly. “That is the way of pain--pain in the body and pain in the mind. It never disappears, but it can lessen. In time.”

She laces her fingers through his. Slowly, her breathing returns to normal. He’s right. For a while, this happened every night. She’d be so afraid of her nightmares that she wouldn’t sleep at all. Now the memories are a disturbance, not a certainty. Someday her terrors will be less than memories.

“And you’ll be here for me, when I am in pain?”

“Always.” He kisses her head. When she tilts her face up, he kisses her lips. Softly, gently. “I will always protect you, sweetheart. I will always comfort you.”

Exhaustion overtakes her. Still in her husband’s arms, she sinks into the pillows of their marriage bed.

“I love you, Rumple,” she murmurs.

He places a kiss on her temple. “And I love you, Belle. I will never let Regina hurt you again.”

****

It was dark when Lacey opened her eyes. Her chest was tight. Her jaw had clenched as she slept. She didn’t move as she lay on her back in bed and let the dream wash over her.

It hurt. It always hurt to dream of being loved, of having a husband who loved her. She kept telling herself that it didn’t matter, that she didn’t want Mr. Gold to love her. But the husband in her dreams wasn’t Mr. Gold. He was someone she called Rumple.

And Rumple called her Belle. Lacey was so desperate to be loved that her mind let her imaginary husband call her by the nickname her real husband had given to his boyfriend.

Fuck, she was a nutcase.

She had to get over him. These stupid dreams and delusions would never stop as long as she kept yearning for her husband. She needed to give herself to Mayor Mills. She would make everything better. When Mayor Mills finally owned her, then Lacey could stop deluding herself that she deserved love. She was a worthless, trashy, Old Town slut. No one worthwhile could ever love her, and Mayor Mills would never pretend to. Mayor Mills would punish her for existing, just like she deserved.

It would all happen. Life would go back to normal. All her dreams would come true. Just as soon as she could prove to Mayor Mills that her marriage was dead.

Gradually, the room lightened around her. She heard the noises of Mr. Gold getting out of bed. Water in the pipes as he washed his hands and brushed his teeth.

She didn’t move until she heard the shower turn on. That was when she slunk across the hallway to what used to be their room. As she crept over the creaky floorboards, she rehearsed excuses for why she was there. She had forgotten something, some piece of jewelry or clothing she had left in the armoire.

That was technically true. She was looking for jewelry.

For as long as she could remember, Mr. Gold had never taken off his wedding ring. Sometimes he would remove the large moonstone ring, but never the plain gold band that hid behind it. Not when he did messy house work, not when he showered, not when he slept.

Lacey was probably an idiot for thinking that might have changed, but how would she know if she didn’t try? She’d been watching him lately, trying to see if she could get his ring away from him. Every night for a week, she’d dried dishes that he washed, standing next to him at the sink making stilted small talk. Being that close to him made her want to tear her skin off with a cheese slicer, which was not quite the type of pain she was looking for.

It hurt to be near him, it hurt to be away.

Quickly scanning the bedroom, Lacey looked at the dresser and the bedside table where he might have emptied his pockets the night before. His keys and his change were in the amber-brown cut glass dish where he always left them. No ring.

There was a teacup on the nightstand, by what used to be her side of the bed. Lacey pressed her lips together. That fucking chipped cup had ruined her life. It was a symbol of how much he loved “Belle.” Balling her hands into fists, she crept closer to the bed and looked inside the teacup.

Empty.

That left only one more option, the riskiest one yet. Silently, Lacey went to the closed door of the bathroom and crouched in front of it so she could see through the keyhole.

At first, she couldn’t see much through the steam. She knew she would be able to see the sink or the counter or any other place where Mr. Gold might have set his ring down. But as she squinted through the haze, she could see his body through the glass of the shower door. He was standing up, under the spray. His right hand was braced against the wall, keeping his weight off his bad ankle.

His left hand, the hand where she could see a faint glint of gold, was pumping his cock.

Lacey bit back a scream. Bastard! He was jerking off? He was thinking about his handsome Belle while still wearing his Goddamned wedding ring?

She backed away from the door while the world fell apart around her. She stared at the chipped cup, as though she could shoot lasers out of her eyes to blow it up. God, she wanted to smash that fucking thing into shards. She wanted to smash her skull in. The voice inside her was screaming and for once she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted to join it. She wanted to scream and wail until there was nothing left of her but pain. And then she wanted her husband--her Rumple--to comfort her, and hold her, and help her put the pieces of herself back together.

She made it back to her room before she began to cry. She buried her head in a pillow to muffle the sound. Part of her wanted to let Mr. Gold hear, to know how much she hated him, how much she hated herself for loving him. He needed to know how much pain she was in. She had to tell him. She had to make him care about her!

But he didn’t. That made Lacey cry all the harder. He didn’t care about her. She could tell him everything and it wouldn’t change that fact.

Her dream was even more bitter now. Rumple had promised that he would protect her from an outside threat, from some horrible person named Regina. He didn’t even think that he needed to protect her from himself--or from herself. Rumple would care if she was in pain. He would comfort her, and love her.

But Rumple wasn’t real.

Rumple wasn’t real, and Mr. Gold didn’t care. Her only hope was Mayor Mills.

****

One of the best parts of trying to prove herself to Mayor Mills was that Lacey had a reason to care about her appearance again. The ritual of clothes and makeup and jewelry helped her keep her mind off herself. It wasn’t like she mattered. That was why she needed to be decorated. She was just a fucktoy, a thing to be looked at and consumed.

And she really, really, wanted to make Mayor Mills want to consume her today. Lacey’s hands shook as she attached her thigh-high stockings to her garter belt. These were real silk stockings, with a black line going up the back. Classy as fuck, like Mayor Mills herself. A tight black dress matched the stockings and the black heels.

Heavy on the eye makeup today. Black mascara and eyeliner, shimmery dark gray on the lids. Sultry, seductive. Maybe just trashy enough that Mayor Mills would notice it, and insult her for it.

“Stupid whore,” Lacey whispered to her reflection as she lined her lips apple-red. She stared at her mouth and tried to imagine it was Mayor Mills speaking to her. “You desperate, needy little slut.”

She breathed. That felt better.

Her own wedding ring was right where she had left it last night, in the bottom of her sock drawer. The night after Mayor Mills had made her offer, Mrs. Gold had taken off her wedding ring for the first time in as long as she could remember. It had taken her hours to get to sleep that night. She’d kept rubbing the naked patch on her finger. It had felt so weird, so wrong.

Now it was easier. Today, she was ready to go a step farther. Lacey took the ring out of her sock drawer, but instead of sliding it onto her finger again, she dropped it into her royal blue clutch. Today would be the first time since she had gotten her wedding ring that she would go out in public without it on. At least she’d have that to show Mayor Mills.

By the time she came down the stairs, Mr. Gold had already finished breakfast. He was folding the newspaper and getting ready to go.

“Good morning,” he nodded to her politely. Then he stopped and looked again at her outfit. Yep, there was nothing wrong with his eyes or his cock. He just didn’t want her. “Are you going into town today?”

Lacey nodded and kept both hands behind her back. “I’ll grab breakfast at Granny’s.”

She would do no such thing, but this version of Mr. Gold liked to know she ate.

As he drove them to the shop, Lacey wondered--again--if Mayor Mills knew what Mr. Gold’s ring looked like. One plain gold band was pretty much the same as any other, right? The other day, when he had left her alone in the shop, she had gone through the inventory of men’s rings and picked out a few likely candidates. If she had ever seen Mr. Gold taking off his ring, she would have tried to swap it out with a fake. As it was now, she might still try to pass off shop inventory as her husband’s private property.

But he would be able to tell the difference if she tried to switch the rings. And even if Mayor Mills didn’t have Mr. Gold’s eye for antiques, she would know when she was being lied to. She was a smart, savvy woman in power. A useless idiot like Lacey couldn’t hope to fool her.

Lacey, please stop insulting yourself. This is how you let yourself get hurt!

The voice was getting pushy. Lacey waved it away from her mind like a wasp at a picnic. Besides, what the voice didn’t understand--what no one had ever understood, except for Mr. Gold and now Mayor Mills--was how much she wanted to get hurt.

****

Lacey managed to keep away from City Hall until around noon. She spent the morning walking in a spiral around town, circles getting smaller and smaller as she zeroed in on her target.

She stayed away from the familiar stores today. If she went to Sugar’n’Spice or Hair Today! she might be tempted to tell Mara or Janine what she was planning. They would try to talk her out of it. They’d tell her that she deserved better--as if they knew anything about her. She also gave a wide berth to Marine Automotive and Game of Thorns. Lacey had only just gotten on better terms with Dad, she didn’t want to have to deal with his judgement again. And Uncle Manny only liked her so much because he remembered a little girl who could repeat jokes and read meaningless trivia out of books.

Her family, everyone who loved her, didn’t really know her at all. They loved the person she was in front of them--fun and smart and hard-working. They would never understand who she really was. Her darkest, ugliest, most depraved self. The part of Lacey that had slipped so easily into being Mrs. Gold. No one could ever love that version of her.

Good thing she wasn’t looking for love.

Heart in her throat, Lacey climbed up the stairs to City Hall. What time did Mayor Mills usually take a lunch break? She didn’t know, but she would find out, wouldn’t she? If this worked out, she would know the mayor’s schedule intimately.

As she thought about that scenario, Lacey’s breathing began to even out. Surely even someone as professional and orderly as Mayor Mills wouldn’t be above an occasional nooner. Of course Lacey would be available at any time of the day or night. If the mayor had a bad day and needed to unwind, if she was furious with the incompetence of the stupid bureaucrats and drones she worked with and needed to vent out her rage, then Lacey would be there. Ready and willing. For as long as Mayor Mills would have her.

Lacey, she’ll kill you. Regina killed Sheriff Graham--she killed Maleficent! And her own father! If you take one step out of line, she will rip out your heart and crush it!

“Mr. Gold already did that,” Lacey muttered to herself as she opened the big double doors. The worst Mayor Mills could do would be to finish what her husband had started.

The stuttering male receptionist told her that the mayor was in a private meeting, but of course Mrs. Gold was more than welcome to wait.

She sat in a hard red plastic chair directly in front of the mayor’s office. There was a magazine in her hands, but she couldn’t even pretend to read. Instead, she looked at the door. Then at the shiny black and white tiles. Then at her left hand, and the indentation in her fourth finger.

Hours could have passed. Days, or years. What was time? It felt like she had been waiting all her life, or like she had never been alive before this moment. Or like she still hadn’t been born. Not yet, Not until--

The door opened. Mayor Mills was dressed impeccably in a black pantsuit. The blazer had a thin border of white around the lapels, to match the blouse underneath a black vest that was cut to accentuate her bust. She was stunning. And she was smiling. Not a smirk or a grin, but a real smile that radiated joy and triumph.

Lacey’s breath caught. How could she have forgotten how magnificent she was?

However, her spirits sank when she saw just who Mayor Mills was holding the door open for.

It was him. It was Mr. Gold’s “Belle.” The tall, handsome, well-dressed man who had destroyed every hope she’d had of a happy marriage.

Jefferson!

Unlike Mayor Mills, the man left the office frowning. He held a battered old top hat under his arm, close to his chest. When he saw Lacey, his slate blue eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but it was Mayor Mills who spoke.

“Why, Mrs. Gold!” she smiled. “This is turning out to be a banner day! Please come in.”

The man stared at her, but she didn’t look at him as she hurried into the mayor’s office. She stood in the center of the circle on the floor while Mayor Mills shut the door behind her. There was an extra click as the door locked.

“You know, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to have you back so soon, dear.” Mayor Mills came up behind her and wrapped her arm around her waist. The closeness made her gasp. The mayor’s hand took Lacey’s and rubbed approvingly along her naked fingers. “You’ll find I reward prompt obedience in my underlings.”

With a final squeeze, Mayor Mills broke her contact with Lacey and went behind her desk. An apple sat on the white stone surface. One of the mayor’s Honeycrisp apples, as red as blood. It already had a bite taken out of it. Mayor Mills sat in her black leather chair like it was a throne.

“Now,” she said, “do you have something to show me?”

“Yes!” Fumbling with her clutch, Lacey pulled out her ring and set it on the desk next to the apple.

Mayor Mills looked down at it, pleased but clearly expecting more. “And?” she said brightly. “Where’s the other one?”

Lacey opened her mouth. “I--” she began. “I don’t think we really need it. T-there’s nothing special about Mr. Gold’s wedding ring. I can prove my devotion to you in any number of way, Madame--”

“No!” The single word was a wrecking ball, crashing through all of Lacey’s pitiful excuses and desperate begging. “No, that is not good enough, you stupid whore!”

Despite her fantasies, Lacey winced at the reality of the mayor’s wrath. It took all her strength to stay standing. She didn’t deserve to kneel.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

“I gave you a job, you brainless blow-up doll! And when I tell people to do something, I expect it to get done!”

“You’re right, Madame Mayor. I’m so so--”

“Get out of here,” she snapped. Mayor Mills grabbed the half-bitten apple off her desk and dropped it into her purse. She started turning off the lights around the office. “Don’t come back until you can get Gold’s wedding ring away from him.” She unlocked the door and opened it. When she looked at Lacey again, some of her good mood seemed to have come back. “I promise you, dear, you’ll have plenty of time to make this up to me. Right now, I’ve got some baking to do.”

And she left.

****

Standing alone in the middle of the mayor’s office, Lacey heard the click-clack of high heels on tile, fading away.

“What the fuck?” Lacey whispered. For a moment, she wondered if the voice in her head would say something. But there was nothing.

She was nothing.

Nothing to Mr. Gold, and nothing to Mayor Mills. She wasn’t even important enough for them to hate or degrade. They didn’t care about her.

She was nothing.

It was like she was in shock. She couldn’t move. If there was anything to hear or see, she didn’t notice it. Again she had the feeling of time evaporating into mist all around her. All her hopes of a future had just turned into ash and crumbled away.

Slowly, the door creaked open. A man’s head popped into the office. No, not just a man. The man. The man her husband had sex with and called “Belle.” The man he loved.

“Are you okay?”

Lacey wanted to laugh. What a question! And from what a source! Sure, why not? Why not talk to “Belle”? It wasn’t like it could make this day any worse!

The man stepped into the office. He didn’t speak to her at first. He walked to the desk and picked up her wedding ring. He held it in his palm and smiled.

“You know, I’ve never seen you without this on, in one form or another.” He held the ring out to her and she jolted back to life.

“How many times have you seen me?” She snatched the ring out of his hand. “I never saw you before a month ago. But I guess it makes sense that you knew about me before I knew about you. The wife’s always the last to know, right?”

The man didn’t match her anger. He just smiled at her, the same kind of condescending compassion usually reserved for children or morons.

“Why did you think Regina would help you?” He tried to move his hands, but he was limited with the hat under his arm. “Now me, I knew exactly what I wanted, and I demanded payment in advance. That’s the only way to deal with her. She’s not like your husband.”

“Please don’t talk about him,” Lacey hissed. “Or about her. Or about anything! Why are you even here? Just to torture me?”

His smile vanished, his eyes filled with tenderness. “I’m not your enemy,” he said.

“No, you’re my rival. Are you fucking both of them? Do you seek out people I might have an interest in and seduce them before I can get a chance? Did you dig up my old high school boyfriend and rock his world too?” God, it felt good to be angry, to have somewhere to direct her anger that wasn’t at herself. Jefferson could take it.

“I’m not fucking Regina.” He was almost sardonic as he said it. “One thing I learned in my travels is don’t put your dick in crazy. That’s something you should have thought of before you came here, missy.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and stomped out of the office. The man stayed behind her until they were out of City Hall. On the front steps, he grabbed her arm. Not hard, just enough to get her attention. Just enough to turn her around to face him.

“So what’s your plan now?” he challenged her. “Regina was kind of loud in there, I couldn’t help overhearing your predicament.”

“And you want to help?” Of course he did, he wanted Mr. Gold all to himself.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he said. His mouth twitched and he looked away for a minute. “I wanna know how badly all this has fucked you up.”

She scoffed and began to walk again. She didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. Away from this weirdo. Away from everything.

She stopped at the crosswalk and watched Sheriff Swan’s yellow bug turn the corner onto Mifflin Street. Was she going to Mayor Mills’ house? Why? God, was everyone having sex with each other except her?

The man was still following her. “Listen,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk? Maybe you have questions for me? We’ve got a lot in common.”

The thought made Lacey want to gag. The swell of anger was the push she needed to turn on her heel and face this homewrecker.

“Why does he call you Belle?” she spat. “Mr. Gold doesn’t like nicknames and it doesn’t make any sense to call a man that. So what’s the story there?”

He blinked. The face he made seemed to be genuine shock. He looked her in the eyes when he asked, “You think I’m Belle?”

Lacey was going to scream. “Oh, good God! How many people is he cheating on me with?”

The man held up his hands. “Just me, as far as I know. I can’t imagine him with anyone but me and you.”

“And Belle,” Lacey taunted them both with the name. “I know that Belle exists and I know that he loves her. If that isn’t you, then who the fuck is it?”

Exhaling, Jefferson scratched the back of his head. “Um,” he said. “Wow. Okay. Um. Have you… ever talked to your husband about Belle?”

She bristled, crossed her arms over her chest. “Where do you think I got the piddling information I have? Yes, Mr. Gold says that Belle is real. He talks about her like she’s a woman--actually, he talks about her like she’s an angel, but that’s neither here nor there. He says that he loves her and that she trusts him.”

“Do you trust him?”

Lacey scowled. “Why should I?”

“Because he loves you.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “No. He doesn’t. Never did, never will.”

The man made a noise, a wordless expression of pity. He looked at her like she didn’t understand something blindingly obvious.

“You can’t expect me to believe that Mr. Gold loves me.”

“Mr. Gold? Nah. But your husband? Honey, your husband loves you more than anything in any world.”

She couldn’t speak. Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away so he wouldn’t see, bracing herself against a fence. It was plastic made to look like wood, the sort of thing you got in the bad part of New Town. Up ahead, the yellow bug was on Main Street again. Must have been a short visit.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. The man was still behind her. “Isn’t Mr. Gold loving me a bad thing for you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got a wife of my own. I’m gonna see her soon. I’ve got a piece of what I need for that.” He held up the top hat, as if that explained how he was going to get back to Leona. “Point is, there are some people that belong together. They’re a matched set. In one world or another, they’ll find each other.”

Lacey shook her head. “That’s only true in fairy tales.”

Jefferson patted her on the back. “Exactly.”

She shook her head and started walking again, faster than before. Somewhere in the distance, ambulance sirens blared. Behind her, the man picked up his pace to catch up with her.

“You keep following me and I’m going to call Sheriff Swan.”

He shook his head. “Emma’s got her own problems right now. Hopefully, she’ll have her own solutions too. You need to figure out yourself, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Someone called her that. Not this man, not any of her friends or family, no boy she’d ever dated, but a man. A man who loved her.

Rumple.

Lacey wiped at her eyes again. God, her makeup was probably ruined. “Alright, Jefferson, fine. If you have all the answers, why don’t you tell me what they are?”

The man got ahead of her and stopped walking. He looked at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. His mouth was open, but it took him a moment to speak.

“Two questions,” he said at last. “One at a time. First, what do you want from your husband?”

She sighed. There was no way she could tell this man what she really wanted from Mr. Gold. And she couldn’t very well tell Mr. Gold about it either. So she settled for the next best thing.

“I want him to give me his wedding ring so I can give it to Mayor Mills.”

The man pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell him that.”

“What?”

“Just be honest with him. Tell him that Regina wants your wedding rings. Tell him that she wants to hurt you and you want to let her. You’ve tried everything else, haven’t you? Maybe that’s the only thing that will work.”

Lacey shook her head. “That would never work! Mr. Gold isn’t going to give me something just because I ask for it!”

Jefferson shrugged. “He’s fair, isn’t he? Make it a deal, truth for truth. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

She kept shaking her head. This man might have fucked her husband, but he didn’t know him at all.

“Second question.” He held up two fingers. “And then I have to go. School’s letting out and I need to see my daughter. But the question is,” he leaned forward, and looked her straight in the eyes. “How did you know my name is Jefferson?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. With a showy flourish, he spun around and put the top hat on his head. Then he sauntered off, with Lacey alone on the sidewalk.

****

She trudged along by herself, from the New Town mansions to the Main Street shops. Unlike her frantic spiral to City Hall, Lacey walked slowly now, in a straight line. There was no avoiding where she was going, where she had to go. But there wasn’t any hurry either.

He was right--the man, Jefferson, whatever--she had to talk to Mr. Gold. Lying and sneaking around hadn’t worked. But maybe they could make a deal. She couldn’t imagine what he would demand as payment, if she asked to be freed from their marriage.

If nothing else, Dad would have to start paying rent again. She couldn’t live in Mr. Gold’s house anymore. She’d be homeless, jobless. She could probably crash with Janine or Mara. Live with them and work at Game of Thorns for whatever twenties Dad could spare after he had paid the bills. On the bright side, he probably hadn’t cleaned out her old bedroom. She could still wear her clothes from high school.

It was a bleak future, but at least it was something. It was better than hating herself all the time, the way she did around Mr. Gold. The way she would if she gave herself over to Regina Mills.

Rumple will protect you, Lacey. He loves you!

And maybe she could beg Dr. Hopper for some therapy. Clearly she had a lot of issues, even before she started hearing voices.

When she got to the shop, the Closed sign was facing out, even though it was the middle of the day. But the Cadillac was parked by the side door, and she had her key. The bell rang as she let herself in.

“We’re closed,” her husband’s voice came from the back.

“It’s just me,” Lacey called. Whoever that was.

She made her way to the back slowly. Between all the walking and all the emotions, she was wrung-out. Bone-tired and ragged. She slumped on the doorframe and looked at him. These could be the last moments for her to pretend that he was her husband.

Mr. Gold was sitting at the work table, appraising some kind of antique. It was shaped like an egg but the size of a football. It was gold, and covered with clear gems so huge they had to be fake. Diamonds that big didn’t exist outside of museums. The two halves of it opened on a hinge, and lay flat on the table like a book. Gray velvet lined the inside, covering the indentation meant for some kind of small bottle.

What was that thing? A holder for a bottle of perfume? A carrying case for an expensive liqueur? Something to do with Easter?

Standing up, Mr. Gold closed the egg on its hinges and locked it with a key. His hand slipped into his pants pocket. He was hiding something. That didn’t surprise her at this point. As far as she knew, he was hiding everything.

She cleared her throat and stood up straight. “I went to City Hall today,” she announced.

Mr. Gold pulled a jewelry box off a shelf, then frowned at the dust on top. “Oh really?”

Lacey knew that tone. That dismissive, disinterested voice he used every time he wasn’t growling or snarling. Being ignored was worse than being hurt, and that was all he had done to her in months.

“Yes,” she spat out the word. “I had a meeting with Mayor Mills.”

That stopped him from looking at his inventory. When he turned his head to her, she saw that his teeth were on edge.

“Why?” he whispered.

A deep breath. Do the brave thing. Tell him the truth. He loves you.

“Because I wanted her to hurt me.” Lacey had tears in her eyes. When had that started up again? “Because I want her to fuck me, and insult me, and treat me like shit. The way you used to.”

Grimacing, he looked away from her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she couldn’t do it.” Lacey kept breathing, deep and even. She felt… strong, somehow. Like there was more inside of her than there had ever been before. Maybe bravery had followed her after all. “She tried to play it off like she wouldn’t do it, like it was a principle or something. But I’m pretty sure that something stopped her.” She swallowed, and took a step toward him.

Rumple.

“I think...” she began, and then stopped. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy.”

“Say it,” he whispered. His eyes--so dark, so lovely--brimmed with tears. “Please say it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Another breath. Another step.

“I had a dream,” she said, “where you said you would protect me from Regina.”

“Yes.” He stared at her. He looked at her like she was the only star in the sky. He moved toward her, arms open. “Yes, I’ll protect you.”

He held her. He embraced her. For the first time in months, she felt his arms around her. He cherished her. He loved her.

Lacey wanted to melt into him. She wanted to cry so hard she dissolved. But she couldn’t do it yet. There was more that she had to say.

“In my dreams... I call you Rumple.”

A shudder went through him and he held her tighter. “Yes,” he whispered into her hair.

So, Lacey thought, as crazy as she sounded to herself, somehow she was making sense to him.

“And in my dreams,” she went on, “you call me Belle. Am I Belle? Have I been Belle all this time?”

He broke apart from her gently, and kissed her on the forehead. “No,” he murmured. “But you will be, sweetheart. I promise.”

Moving away from her, he went to one of the shelves. He pulled down a box--a fireproof safe--and unlocked it with two different keys. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see what was inside.

“I think it’s time,” her husband said, “for me to tell you everything.”

Then he turned around, and put something on the work table. It was a knife--no, a dagger. A ruby-pommelled, wavy-bladed dagger. On the flat of the blade, facing up from the table, a name was engraved in black enamel.

Rumpelstiltskin.

Lacey blinked. She had seen that dagger before. Was it in a dream? Or a memory? She looked at her husband, who stood back from the blade as though he had no claim to it.

She looked at it again. She knew that dagger. It was hers. He had given it to her. Long ago, in another world. Or in a dream. Or in a memory.

Picking it up, she looked at him. Understanding was so close she could taste it, but she wasn’t there yet. All she could do was ask her husband.

“Rumple?”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfiction #ouat

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alyssaallyrion · 3 years

Text

Solution (Iruka x Kakashi)

Rating: T

Summary: In which Konoha's laws are the problem, and Kakashi and Iruka just might be each other's solution.

A/N: Written for KakaIru Month ( @kakairu-fest ) Day 24 Prompt: Fake Dating (although this fic is more of a pretend relationship/marraige of convenience flavor)

ao3 link

Iruka downs his cup of sake in one gulp and winces, feeling the sweet, sticky liquid burn his throat. When he asks for another cup, the bartender gives him a concerned look but doesn’t say anything, and a bitter smile curls Iruka’s lips. He knows he must be a pitiful sight – it’s way too early on a Friday afternoon to be this drunk – yet, he can hardly find it in him to care.

It was supposed to be a great day – how did everything go so wrong?

Earlier that day, Iruka had a meeting with Hokage, during which he was going to tell Hiruzen that he wanted to adopt Naruto. If someone had told him just a year ago that he, a new Academy teacher who has just turned eighteen, would be adopting a child, Iruka would have laughed at them, but life has a way of surprising people.

When he first saw how lonely Naruto is, despite his friendly nature and his sun-bright smile, Iruka’s heart clenched, and he had to reach out to the boy. Becoming friends with Naruto was surprisingly easy and, before Iruka even noticed, their friendship blossomed into an almost familial bond.

He vividly remembered the evening Naruto fell asleep on his couch while watching a movie. Iruka couldn’t help but smile as he picked him up to carry him to a futon that he’d set up in a spare room. In recent weeks, Naruto stayed at his apartment quite frequently, and Iruka suspected it was because he hated living alone. As Iruka carried him down the corridor, Naruto mumbled something sleepily.

“What are you saying, Naruto?” Iruka asked softly.

“So warm and safe,” Naruto murmured, “I wonder if that’s what it feels like when a father holds you?”

Iruka felt a lump in his throat as he looked down at the boy. He, at least, had memories of his parents to hold on to, but Naruto had been an orphan since birth. How must it be for him, never to have felt familiar love?

Iruka couldn’t sleep all night, haunted by the thought. While there was nothing he could do to bring Naruto’s parents back, there still was something he could do for him. When the morning came, and he and Naruto settled at the kitchen table for breakfast, Iruka asked, “Naruto, would you like me to adopt you?”

The next thing Iruka knew, Naruto flung himself at him, squeezing Iruka in a tight hug.

“Of course, I would, Iruka-sensei,” he said, smiling brightly, “You better believe it!”

And so, the decision was made.

Iruka had no doubt that all will go well, and he’ll get custody of Naruto – until he had the meeting with Hiruzen.

They were having tea on the balcony of the Hokage tower – as they often did during their meetings - when Iruka said, “I want to adopt Naruto.”

“Oh?” Hiruzen tilted his head to the side, looking at Iruka with a curious expression, “I suppose congratulations are in order then. Though I must say, I’m a little surprised – you never mentioned you were…involved with anyone.”

“Involved?” Iruka repeated, confused.

“Yes,” Hiruzen nodded, taking a sip of his tea, “As you know, only married couples can adopt children in Konoha – after all, it’s much better for children to grow up in full families. So tell me, who is it you are marrying?”

Iruka felt color drain from his face – he has never heard of such a requirement. Before he could say anything, however, an ANBU flickered in front of them.

“Hokage-sama, your presence is required urgently…”

Iruka had never been more grateful for an interruption of his meeting with Hiruzen.

Now, sitting at the bar, Iruka cannot help but feel angry and bitter. The adoption rule is arbitrary and utterly ridiculous - and isn’t it better for the orphans to have at least some family than no family at all? Iruka has no idea how he will tell Naruto the truth, and the image of Naruto’s distraught face breaks his heart. Before he starts crying, Iruka downs another cup of sake.

“Rough day, Iruka-sensei?” says a familiar voice.

Startled, Iruka glances to his right to see none other than Kakashi Hatake, sitting on a barstool next to him. If Iruka was a little more sober, he would have felt guilty about not greeting Kakashi earlier – and about the number of empty cups before him - but he’s drunk. So drunk, in fact, that he somehow missed Kakashi’s arrival.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he mutters.

The bartender arrives, placing three shot glasses in front of Kakashi. Iruka stares, mesmerized, as Kakashi empties all three glasses so quick that it seems he never takes off his mask.

“It looks like you had a rough day too,” Iruka remarks then, “Tough mission.”

“I’ll tell you my grievances if you tell me yours,” Kakashi says wryly.

They aren’t close, not at all – Kakashi had given him advice on approaching Naruto once, and, outside of that, they’ve only spoken briefly during Iruka’s shifts at the mission desk. Kakashi is not the person Iruka normally shares his problems with, but alcohol does a wondrous job at loosening people’s tongues.

“Did you know that to adopt a child in this village, you need to be married?” he says, with a sigh, “Well, I didn’t, but apparently that’s the rule. Which, I think is very stupid – there are so many orphans here, wouldn’t it be better for them to have at least one loving parent rather than no parents at all?”

Kakashi stares at him intently but remains quiet, so Iruka continues.

“But no, apparently only “full families” count, so now I have to go tell Naruto that I cannot adopt him because I’m not married. And, mind you, I care for the boy so much, I would have gotten married if I was seeing someone – but between the work at the Academy, shifts at the Mission desk, and missions, what time do I have to date? If only…” realizing that he’s rambling, Iruka stops abruptly.

Even though his drunken haze, he feels a little embarrassed. Kakashi is lending him a sympathetic ear, and instead of talking about his real problem – the fact that he could not adopt Naruto – he started rambling about his lack of a dating life.

Kakashi remains quiet, looking at Iruka pensively. As silence stretches, Iruka shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“So,” Iruka smiles awkwardly, “I’ve told you my troubles – now it’s your turn.”

“I… don’t really believe in fate, sensei, but I must say, this is quite the coincidence,” Kakashi finally says.

“What do you mean?” Iruka frowns.

“You see, the reason that I’m here, drowning my sorrows, is because I’ve had the exact same conversation with the Hokage earlier today,” Kakashi explains, “Only, I was speaking to him about Sasuke Uchiha.”

Iruka feels a lump in his throat at Kakashi’s words. Sasuke… He still hasn’t been released from the hospital after what happened to his family. As his homeroom teacher, Iruka went to visit Sasuke a few times and could hardly bear the empty, dejected look on the boy’s face.

Still, Kakashi’s revelation surprises Iruka.

“I didn’t know you were close to his family,” Iruka says, meeting Kakashi’s gaze.

“I wasn’t,” Kakashi admits, “Or, at least, not with his parents. But I think I owe it to him – if I had only noticed that Itachi…”

Kakashi stops himself, but Iruka can guess the rest. Though officially, the identities of the ANBU operatives were a secret, in reality, it wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. There was hardly a shinobi in the village who didn’t know that Kakashi and Itachi were both in the ANBU. Perhaps, they were on the same team…

Before Iruka can say anything, the bartender comes by again, placing two cups of sake before Kakashi. Next thing he knows, Kakashi’s sliding one cup towards him. Liquid sloshes over the edge of the cup as Iruka catches it, and, when he absent-mindedly lifts his fingers to his lips to lick sake from them, he notices something shift in Kakashi’s gaze and feels shivers run up his spine.

“I think we can help each other,” Kakashi says, his voice a little hoarse.

“How so?” Iruka asks.

“We could get married,” Kakashi shrugs nonchalantly.

Iruka nearly chokes on his drink.

“What?” is all he could manage.

“It’s only logical,” Kakashi continues, “You want to adopt Naruto, I want to adopt Sasuke, the only thing standing in the way is the marriage requirement. If we get married, that problem will be solved.”

Iruka stares at Kakashi, utterly dumbfounded, uncertain where to start. Sure, when Kakashi puts it like that, in theory, it might make sense for them to get married, but in reality…

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka says slowly, “With all due respect – we barely know each other. Do you think it would be wise for us to get married?”

“You said you wouldn’t mind getting married if that meant you could adopt Naruto,” Kakashi replies, leaning his elbows on the bar and resting his chin on his palm.

“I said I wouldn’t mind getting married if I was seeing someone,” Iruka says pointedly.

“But you aren’t,” Kakashi’s eye curves, and Iruka can tell that he’s smiling under the mask, “So, it seems, this is the next best thing.”

Iruka wasn’t much of a romantic – shinobi life quickly disabuses anyone of such delusions – and still, he couldn’t fathom getting married to a man he hardly knew. But, in his drunken haze, Kakashi’s arguments almost made sense. If this lets him adopt Naruto, maybe it’s worth it…

“Perhaps, you are right,” Iruka laughs, then shakes his head, “I have heard that you, the jounin, are crazy, but you must be the craziest of all. What normal person would propose to a man he barely knows?”

“I know you are a Konoha shinobi through and through, responsible and good with children,” Kakashi shrugs, emptying his drink in one swift motion, “And that’s enough for me.”

Iruka can hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I’d also think someone like you would have other options,” he adds.

“What do you mean?” Kakashi frowns.

Iruka sighs. He cannot possibly be that oblivious.

“Well, Kakashi-san,” Iruka says in a tone in which he usually explains things to his youngest students, “You are the famous copy-ninja. I’d expect there to be a line all the way to the village’s gate if you were to say that you were looking for someone to marry.”

Kakashi laughs then – and it’s the first time Iruka hears the sound and, somehow, he cannot help but smile.

“Sorry to disappoint, Iruka-sensei, but the reality hardly matches your expectations,” Kakashi murmurs, then shifts a little closer and adds, “So, do you accept my proposal?”

Iruka looks at Kakashi for a moment, wondering what he’s getting himself into, then, emboldened by the liquid courage running through his veins, says, “Fine.”

“See, I knew you’d come around,” Kakashi smiles.

A million thoughts run through Iruka’s mind – there are so many things they need to discuss. Where will they live? His apartment certainly isn’t big enough for four people, and he has no idea about Kakashi’s own living arrangements. How will they tell Naruto and Sasuke, and when should they tell them? What does Kakashi expect out of this marriage?

But, before Iruka can say a single word, Kakashi glances at the clock and gets up from his seat.

“Time to go,” he says.

“Go where?” Iruka asks, confused.

“To the civil registrar’s office, of course,” Kakashi replies, “It’s half past four, so we have about half an hour, which should be enough time to get married. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait till Monday, and I have a bad feeling that I’ll get sent on a mission before then. So, both the marriage and the adoption will need to happen today.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Naruto and Sasuke first?” Iruka protests but still gets up from his seat.

“No time for that now,” Kakashi shakes his head, “Besides, what’s the issue? You did agree.” “I didn’t think we were going to do this today,” Iruka says weakly.

His head is spinning from all the sake, so he grasps at the bar to steady himself.

“A shinobi must always be prepared for the unexpected,” Kakashi sounds amused as he cites the rules at him, “And what better time than now?”

Before Iruka could protest, Kakashi wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

“What are you doing?” Iruka almost hisses, embarrassed at the warmth that floods his body on the contact.

“There is no time to walk, so I’m going to flicker us,” Kakashi says, quickly forming a seal with one hand, “Now hold on.”

“You want to get married now?” the chunin at the registration office seems equal parts annoyed and unimpressed.

Iruka knows the look all too well – it’s the look of someone who’s been hoping to leave the office ten minutes early all day and now has a sudden influx of work, right at the close.

“Well, you know how it is,” Kakashi says, unaffected, “True love can’t wait. Right, Iruka?”

The sudden familiarity of his tone, combined with the way Kakashi reaches out and pulls Iruka against his side, makes heat rise in Iruka’s cheeks.

“Right…Kakashi,” Iruka replies. The name without the honorific feels strange on his tongue, but Iruka knows he’ll have to get used to it.

The chunin stares at them for a moment, then sighs and walks over to her desk to fill out the necessary forms. To Iruka’s surprise, Kakashi doesn’t let go of him while she works.

“Sign here,” the chunin says after a few minutes as she turns the form she’d been filling out towards them.

It’s as if in a haze that Iruka walks over to the desk, takes the pen, and signs his name right next to Kakashi’s.

“Congratulations,” the chunin tells them, “You are now married.”

As Iruka looks at the marriage license in front of him, the reality of the situation slowly begins to sink in. He just married Kakashi of all people.

What has he gotten himself into?

“Is that all?” the chunin’s adds in a voice that makes it clear that the last thing she wants to do is to fill out more documents.

“Actually,” Iruka knows Kakashi’s smiling under his mask as he says it, “We are going to need adoption paperwork…”

#kakairu #kakairu month 2021 #kakashi hakate #iruka umino #kkir

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