#Xbox live voice chat.

[nutzo0001]

Anon 2000s nostalgia

In the early 2000's I finished high school and went to college. I was so stressed out, and in many ways very stupid, and didn't appreciate it at the time. But god do I wish we could go back. Pop culture seemed so dumb, but today it's even dumber. The post 9/11 world seemed so dire, but today things feel even worse. The Patriot act was the height of tyranny! But it was just a stepping stone to even more authoritarianism. --- You know one thing I really miss? When most people still understood how important freedom of speech was! I think it was the height of free speech in my lifetime:

The Evangelical Christian Conservatives had lost the cultural power to enforce their prudishness and were mocked by comedians.

The 80's/90's PC movements from the leftist academics had not gained any traction, and were mocked by comedians.

People who got themselves all worked up and offended by things were rightfully mocked as the weak morons the are.

It was "anything goes" when it comes to comedy, horror, political discourse. And everyone recognized it as a good thing.

Xbox live voice chat.

But then at some point it seems like the progressives realized that the Christians Conservatives didn't have the power to censor anyone anymore, and that was the signal that the left no longer had to pretend to care about free speech. Thus began an ever growing snowball of political correctness which continues to this day and busted open the doors for all sorts of impending speech controls in the name of bullshit like "misinformation", "disinformation" and the new term they made up as an excuse to censor verifiably true things: "malinformation".

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Dude you nailed it. You absolutely nailed how I feel about the 2000s. I also finished high school and also college in this decade. Our mid gen Y generation was raised on this idea that there were these conservative blockheads running the culture. We were raised to be so sensitive to it. At some point the progressives realised they completely won the culture war long ago, and over the next decade and a half went rampant with their authoritarianism. So while I miss the aesthetics of the 2000s, the risk taking innovative tech that wasn't too invasive in life, my youth at the time. The thing that sticks out the most is both sides of the political divide could respect each other's free speech. It went beyond that too, don't we miss when everything didn't have to be political?

[xboxlr]

Xbox Launches New Voice Reporting Feature, Empowering Players with the Option to Capture and Report Inappropriate In-Game Voice Chats

It is about to get a whole lot easier to report inappropriate behavior in Xbox voice chats.

I don’t participate in online voice chat much so I can’t say I’ve ever been harassed. I have seen plenty of videos where this happens to people, however, and any tools that can help make the Xbox community safer is welcomed.

This feature is rolling out to Xbox Insiders first. A player can capture the last 60 seconds of gameplay and voice activity and submit a report within 24 hours.

The feature will work on Xbox Series X|S, Xbox One, and will even work with backwards compatible games.

Read all about it in announcement:

[cali]

the 8 year old kid youre griefing on xbox live voice chat wont care that you called him a squeaker as an insult but your friend timothy squeaker the mouse poet will

[oct2pus]

Cuno and Cunesse were denied their true calling as children in a call of duty voice chat over xbox live.

[catgirlforeskin]

Was listening to an audiobook about the Syrian Civil War and more specifically the formation of the YPG and their fight against ISIS, and there was a very surreal anecdote in it about both sides taunting each other over radio in the same way people do in like, call of duty when there’s global voice chat between rounds.

It reminded me of how a lot of young Taliban fighters, now that they’ve largely won in Afghanistan, have just kinda become Andrew Tate reply guys on twitter who complain about wokeness, turning to petty culture war now that the actual war is over.

I used to always be really curious about how people in much of Europe were able to just return to normal life after living under fascism, or being an enforcer of it. How do you reckon with that?

I know what they say about the banality of evil, but it’s weird knowing that the jackboots of reactionary violence just hang up their rifles at the end of the day and become the dudes who call you faggot on xbox live, or complain about diversity in this month’s cartoon de jour.

[aspd-culture]

@brandon666

First off, you have some *really* inaccurate ideas of what ASPD is. Do you think we can survive in the world acting like you expect me to act? Far more often, pwASPD appear detached and callous rather than actively hostile the way you're saying. We aren't 12 year old kids on Xbox Live voice chat, * s p o o k y voice* we are all around you. You wouldn't be able to pick most of us out of a crowd, even if you had direct interaction with us. In fact, a running joke here and in my real life is that people often tell pwASPD "don't worry, I can sniff out a s*ciop*th a mile away" or similar not realizing they're talking shit about us to our face.

There *are* pwASPD who are still entirely valid who act the way you're saying - and also plenty of prosocials who behave like that too. But it isn't all of us, all the time. Most of us are capable of and maybe even prefer to be cool, calm, and calculated about how we speak and act because of the trauma we have.

Unlike people on TV like Dr. House, there are real life consequences to the behavior you describe, and many of us strive not to be happy, but for life to be as convenient as possible. Kinda hard to get convenience while you're pissing everyone off. Ever heard the part of ASPD where they mention we are manipulative and charismatic? Yeah that isn't exactly compatible with being crass, careless, pranking, or offensive. Careless actually specifically bothers me because we are often said to "play a social chess game" with people we talk to. Many of us are extremely calculating and overly cautious. And many of us aren't, but it certainly isn't like you're saying all the time. Even pwASPD who *do* act like that usually are calm and "respectful" sometimes.

Also, I never claimed to be unmasked on this blog. Most of the time, I am absolutely masking to some degree - although much less than IRL. You can actually see that in the tags, I use "a rare unmasked aspd-culture" as a joke about this fact. Whilst this is a safe place for other pwASPD to unmask if they'd like, my posts on this blog are different. My side of this is helping educate people - prosocial, antisocial, whoever - if/when they have questions for me about ASPD which is fairly frequent. This isn't to say I am not ok with unmasking here, like I said it's happened before, but consider the context of what's happening.

I'm often asked genuine questions about ASPD, some of which are ableist (almost always on accident!) and many of which are based on extremely common misconceptions. If I were to unmask while answering those, I would end up being really shitty to people who are trying to learn - often people who want to do better for the pwASPD in their life, or for themselves. We talk about coping mechanisms and the development of ASPD a lot here; with those topics there is little room for my unmasked behavior *and* education. If I were to unmask while answering, no one would be getting anything out of asking those questions even if I was providing info because it's hard to take in new information from someone when they're being defensive or hostile.

I don't want to be hostile towards them, I want to help because if ASPD is ever going to be destigmatized, someone has got to answer their questions and help show them what it is and what it isn't! We can't expect prosocials to fend for themselves in the cesspool of stigma that the typical google results on ASPD show - someone has to help them. And since one of my special interests (something autistic ppl like myself have and love to infodump about) is mental health, especially my own disorders, I am happy to be one of the people they can ask these sometimes tough questions to.

I am also helping pwASPD! Many questions I get are people trying to understand their own disorder or the disorder they think they might have. It sucked for me, learning this all on my own (and I'm still learning too), so I can use the cognitive empathy I've taught myself over the years and remember the feelings I went through when I was trying to find unbiased info.

There's a transaction here - a major part of ASPD if you didn't know - I calmly and respectfully answer people's questions, and the world becomes slightly less ignorant and we get a slight amount of progress on destigmatizing this disorder. That makes my life easier too. In the process, I see many culture asks that remind me I'm not alone in this. Often, posting those gives me some catharsis, and you will sometimes see me going off in the tags about what I've dealt with. But for the most part, I'm giving other pwASPD an open space to unmask as well as to ask questions to someone who will, 95% of the time, give a masked and respectful answer. Friendly is a stretch tho lol unless you missed the original post about the syscourse that you commented this on.

So yeah, long and short, you're definitely missing something here and that's ok. Just learn and do better. I know you might see that as another thing that is flying in the face of ASPD or whatever, but it's no skin off my back if you think I have ASPD or not, and anyway I'd rather you just learn and maybe next time someone says something like that to/around you about ASPD, you'll have the knowledge to correct it. Spreading info is an exponential situation - once I tell you guys things, some of you will inevitably tell someone else that, and so on and so forth until a good handful of people now know things about ASPD they didn't before. If not, oh well. I got to infodump and see relatable posts that made me feel seen.

Either way, it's been, and hopefully will continue to be, a net positive. You are absolutely welcome to keep this dialogue going if you have questions, want clarification, are enraged that I gave you a calm response, whichever. Even if you don't get anything out of this, someone else seeing it might.

I'll really fuck with you now - I genuinely hope you have a good day.

[lovelylotusf1]

What each driver would be like playing “TTT” 🔫🕵‍♂️

For everyone who doesn't know the game: TTT is a multiplayer shooter game where the players get sorted into two teams: “Innocent” and “Traitor”. Only Traitors know who is in their team, the Innocent have to guess (leading to a few mind games along the way). There is also a Detective who gets special items to help the Innocents combat the Traitors.

The goal is to eliminate the other team.

You know Among Us? It's basically Among Us but Counterstrike.

Max Verstappen

That one tryhard in the group, you know the one. Takes everything extremely seriously, no fun allowed, he's here to win. Often seen hanging around Charles, who balances out his serious playstyle. Can be convinced to have some fun but only by Charles.

Checo Perez

Doesn't know why he's here. The last video game he played was Tetris. Is frequently left alive solely because he has no clue what's going on and is therefore not seen as dangerous.

Charles Leclerc

The menace. WILL shove you off high buildings and cliffs just because he thinks it’s funny. Teams mean nothing to him, will kill anyone on sight if it has the potential to make him laugh. No one ever suspects him being a Traitor because he also does all this when he's Innocent.

Carlos Sainz

Is a surprisingly good Detective. However, he WILL sing Smooth Operator when he wins. Sometimes gets killed just to prevent this.

Lando Norris

Running around the map at speeds unparalleled. Manic energy personified. Consistently has the most fun, mostly achieved by trolling everyone.

Oscar Piastri

Resident ghost. Goes quiet as soon as the round starts. Everyone thinks he's dead until he snipes them from the shadows. Has won rounds where he was the only one left standing in his team. Was banned from using a Sniper Rifle for a long time.

Lewis Hamilton

Refuses to play.

George Russell

Writes essays on the fly on who is most likely to be a Traitor based on their behavior and pattern of speech. Tries to calm everyone down and speak in an orderly fashion. Makes for a great Detective but often gets killed when he's Innocent because he yaps too much.

Alex Albon

Blames everything on George. Killed a man? George did it (he was on the other side of the map). Saw someone jump off a building? George shoved them (it was probably Charles). Gets away with it most of the time.

Logan Sargeant

Likes to throw explosive barrels at people to his soundboard of Bald Eagle screeches. He embraces the meme. And is often the first one to be killed as a result.

Daniel Ricciardo

Is very bad at the game. Still laughs the most out of everyone. You probably don't want him as your teammate but he is too fun to be mad at him.

Yuki Tsunoda

You'd think he is sweet because he is so smol. Oh no. The rage has nowhere to go in his body. He is the first to scream obscenities into the mic, the likes of which you probably heard coming from a 12 year old on XBox voice chat (they are vicious).

Pierre Gasly

Targets Esteban and Esteban specifically. Even if they're on the same team. Other than that, can be seen trailing Charles and shoving people off buildings with him.

Esteban Ocon

Most often seen in a heated debate with Pierre, spoken in French. Sometimes Charles is live-translating everything they say to everyone’s amusement.

Fernando Alonso

Gets all the trick shots. Dances on your dead body. You hear him laughing maniacally before he kills everyone. Seems to be a Traitor almost every time.

Lance Stroll

A bit unsure of what he's supposed to do but in a lovable kind of way. Tries to latch onto Fernando, who takes him under his wings like a mother hen.

Nico Hülkenberg

People forgot to invite him.

Kevin Magnussen

Doesn't play. Always uses the excuse of having to look after his daughter (even if she isn't there).

Valtteri Bottas

The one who's always messing around with the props on the map. Likes finding the bike, picking it up and pretending to ride it. Isn't interested in anything else.

Zhou Guanyu

Refuses to use any weapon other than the cat gun. Despite that, he is surprisingly good at the game if his cat isn't trying to lie on his keyboard.

[papasmoke]

i think a good hellish afterlife punishment for american politicians is to trap them all together in a halo 3 xbox live pre game lobby voice chat for eternity

[willowser]

My dummy thicc brain considering adult nerd bakugou fr bc we keep our interests into adulthood u know? We dont toss em out as we age (generally) he's got a typical office job that pays decently well, has his routine and friends both old and new and coworkers who he hates (relatable). But his apartment has y'know playstation and xbox consoles, maybe even one of those custom lit entertainment centers. All the games in alphabetical order. LE posters or art framed with a bookshelf with video game and TTRPG art books and manuals plus collectors edition statues and figures. He has 30 year old settled down man money he can swing it.

But unless you ask he just does not bring up shit about himself like that shhh in Denki's streams he really is just A Guy (honestly reminds me of WRTVS where most of the friends are streamers but half never show their face and they all use aliases and shit) so the moment he sends a Discord friend request you're like "wtf how tho???" And one day maybe you're playing a scary game just for the hell of it set up a stream bc maybe it wont be as spooky with a chat but u got like one viewer 😂😭 and u know discord integrates with twitch so mr. Explodo sees you're in game and surprise your discord is the same as your twitch so catch yourself trying not to sound amazed through the mic when he pops into your chat like "scared yet?" 💀 ~ Trashy

YES OMG EXACTLY !! we keep our interests in adulthood !! and we get that adult nerd money !! 😭✨️ this is exactly how i picture him 🥺 and his house and his setup 🥺 his house is so modern and clean and taken care of, but it's all just a bunch of video game and fantasy/sci-fi movie stuff 😭 i love that for him !! 😭 adult nerd bakugou i want to hold you closely !! and can you imagine the shit his coworkers probably give him 💀 like bro you're 30 and living like that and don't have a partner STOP HE'S SHFHWJDBAJA 🥺

this is so cute tho like. besides the fact that it would be scary as hell to have his deep ass voice coming through the mic out of nowhere 💀 it's just you two 🥺 and he's just watching and not really saying a whole lot bc it's probably a little weird but you maybe haven't played this game before so he's telling you like, "no, you have to find the missing piece before you can fix it. 'm not telling you where 'cause you should'a paid attention," LOL what a bully. and when you get scared, it makes him laugh — not like a lot, but just a little, though it's your reaction to him that has him smiling, really. all "it's not funny 🥺 i almost had a heart attack 🥺" and he's like, "calm down you're fine 😒😏" ajdhshaja !!

and before you know it, it's been a few hours and way past his bedtime and you're both trying to find a way to say goodbye, but 🥺 you don't really want to 🥺

[lemonlimebitcoin]

I think Hal's voice always sounds like an 11 year old on xbox live voice chat. Including the shitty mic quality.

[swagrum76]

"Your mom, I have fucked, mmmmmm" - A quote by Yoda if he was an xbox live voice chat user

[realwizardshit]

queued into a difficulty 5 mission because i wanted Pain and there's a guy on voice chat who sounds like a garbled subspace transmission. truly xbox live tier audio. dude wants to do a thing for an achievement so i'm like ok and then he fucks off by himself and dies. we fail the mission and it turns out this guy is level 17. he's not even max level. sir. buddy. friend. WHAT are you doing. why are you skipping 1st grade to be here

[firetrucks-fastcars]

Origins Chapter 2

4.1K words | Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo

Link to Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Max and Daniel 2016-17

Max Verstappen was eighteen when he realized he was in love with Daniel Ricciardo. It wasn’t puppy love like people around him said love was at his age. It was true, all encompassing love that made him dizzy to think about. 

Being in love with Daniel made his head spin. The man was so kind to him. So sweet and warm and open in a way that was so different to what Max had grown up with. Daniel paid attention to him for more than just racing. He actually liked to listen to him talk, and would let Max spend hours chatting to him about anything and everything. When Max finally moved out on his own, no longer under his father’s roof, Daniel had come to help him unpack his meager belongings into his first flat in Monaco. Then they’d set up the Xbox and played Fifa on the floor of his living room, even though Daniel was shit and Max beat him every time. Daniel didn’t complain either, just continued to let Max start a new game and smiled at him every time he scored a goal. It was almost like his happiness made Daniel happy, but he didn’t want to think too hard about that and get his hopes up. Daniel had stayed until the sun started to set over the Monaco harbor and they’d devoured their take out with promises not to tell their trainers. He’d almost seemed reluctant to go when he gathered his things, citing an early morning training session with Michael. Max had assured him he’d be fine, but when the door closed behind the older man, the apartment suddenly seemed much emptier than it had before. 

Max Verstappen was nineteen when he moved to Red Bull. After he’d hung up the phone with Christian, the first person he’d called was Daniel.

“Ello,” Daniel had answered and Max, not for the first time, thought his voice sounded like sunshine.

“I suppose we’re going to be teammates,” he said, doing his best to play casually.

“So I heard. How does it feel to be racing for a top team in F1?”

“Well, I’m not racing for them yet. But I am excited of course.”

“Of course,” Daniel agreed. “I’m happy for you mate. You deserve it.”

“You think so?” he asked before he could stop himself, wanting to be sure that Daniel really approved of him.

“I know so Maxy. You’re talented, you’re gonna do great things with Red Bull and I’m excited to stand with you when it happens. Granted I’ll be on the top step and you’ll be below me but that’s all semantics.”

“Of course,” Max chuckled.

“You’re doing shoey with me during your first podium,” Daniel said, not leaving room for debate. 

“Why would I want to drink champagne out of your boot?”

“It’s tradition,” Daniel had said simply.

“Okay,” Max agreed. He’d do anything for Daniel, anything to have that bright smile directed at him.

“You’re gonna love it. Welcome to the top, Maxy, you’re gonna love it up here.”

*****

Daniel Ricciardo was twenty-seven when Max Verstappen became a permanent part of his life. The younger man had entered his orbit slowly, attaching himself to Daniel like glue the moment he’d allowed himself to get close enough. Daniil had even taken to calling him “his little shadow”. Daniel hadn’t minded it, liking the attention the younger gave him and liking to give attention back in the way Max so desperately craved. He and Daniil were close in age and had mostly the same experience level so it was nice to have someone to take under his wing. Max was eager to learn, passionate about racing and equally curious. He held on to every word Daniel had to say, taking them to heart like textbook facts. It was cute. Max Verstappen was cute. Daniel saw him much like a little brother. 

At least that’s what he tried to tell himself as he ignored the way his heart fluttered when Max smiled at him or laughed at one of his dumb jokes. He told himself that Max was just a friend, even as he saw the looks the younger man gave him when he thought he wasn’t looking.

He’s a kid Ricciardo, he told himself after he found himself staring at Max’s plush lips and wondering if they’d taste as sweet as the Red Bull he was drinking. Get it together you pervert.

*****

Daniel was twenty-seven when he almost said too much. Max had a rough day in Monaco. He’d been doing so well on what Daniel considered to be one of the hardest tracks on the calendar. That was until he crashed into the back of Grosjean on lap 65 of 78. He’d been far enough ahead that he hadn’t seen it but his engineer had informed him of the yellow flag and the subsequent red flag that had him returning to the pit lane. 

“Who was it?” Daniel asked as he followed the leader into the pits and took his spot to wait for the race to resume. He’d passed the car in the barriers on the way, but it was at an angle that he couldn’t see the colors or number gracing the car’s livery.

“It was Verstappen and Grosjean. Max hit the back of him and spun into the barrier.”

“Holy shit. Is he alright?”

“He is fine,” Simon confirmed and Daniel let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“Thank god.”

“He’s back in the garage now. Red flag will be lifted any minute, be ready.”

Daniel didn’t really want to finish the race. Part of him wanted to unstrap himself and leave his car in the pit lane for someone else to deal with. He wanted to run to Max and check him over himself to make sure the younger boy was really okay before wrapping him up in a hug and telling him to never do something so stupid again. (Oh how Daniel wished this would be the last time he heard about Max crashing over the radio.) He told himself that it was brotherly, protective instinct and nothing more, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the truth. The truth was, he was afraid because he’d gotten attached to the younger man in a way that was much more than brotherly love. He was falling for someone almost a decade younger than him and he didn’t know how to stop.

He didn’t leave his car. He waited for the green flag to come down and he resumed the race with everyone else, sans Max. He finished well within the points and celebrated with his team for an acceptable amount of time once he was back in the pit lane before pulling away with every intention to go find Max. He was already on his way to the Toro Rosso garage next door when he was stopped by Xevi, Max’s engineer.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, heart leaping into his throat.

“Define okay,” Xevi muttered. He kept a tight grip on Daniel’s bicep as he continued to speak. “Can you go check on Max for me?”

“Yeah of course. I was headed there anyway.”

“Good. His dad tore him a new one over the crash, right here in the garage in front of God and everyone. It was rough. Max walked off looking like he was about to cry and no one has seen him since. I wanted to give him space for a while. But he likes you, I thought he might respond better if you went to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll go check on him,” Daniel promised.

“Thank you Danny. He went toward the driver’s room.”

“Got it.”

Daniel flashed Xevi a thumbs up before heading to the back of the garage. He unzipped his race suit as he went, tying the arms around his waist. The door to Max’s room was shut and he couldn’t see any light from outside. He pushed the door open gently and peeked around the corner, looking for Max. At first, he thought the room was empty, Max nowhere to be seen in the open space. Just as he was about to give up and go search the motorhome high and low, he saw the toe of a red boot peeking out from beside the couch. He shut the door behind him gently, not wanting to spook Max and made his way over slowly.

“Max,” he said, speaking softly like he would to a spooked animal. “I know you’re in here. Xevi said you came this way.”

He finally made it far enough into the room that he could see him, wedged between the sofa and the wall. His knees were tucked up to his chest and he looked so small like that, despite the fact that he’d recently had a growth spurt and was close to matching Daniel in height. He hadn’t commented on the dried tears on his cheeks or the way his nose and face were flushed from crying. Instead he joined him on the floor and let Max talk. And it had been going swimmingly until he decided to introduce his foot to his mouth.

He thought about it that night as he paced around his apartment, mentally berating himself for being an idiot. For a moment, on the floor of Max’s driver’s room, with his knees starting to ache from how cramped the space was, he’d forgotten that he was talking to a kid. Max had only been eighteen for a few weeks and Daniel knew, almost for a fact that he was a virgin, watched him stumble through conversations where he didn’t realize that girls were flirting and admit to Carlos over one too many vodka Red Bulls at his birthday party that he’s only kissed someone for the first time in the last year. 

There was no way he was ready for Daniel’s kinky sex stuff. Absolutely no fucking way. It didn’t matter that since Daniel had met him, he’d clocked Max’s need to be taken care of from a mile away. The kid should have had a neon sign over his head that read “spank me, I’m anxious”. But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. Max was young, too young, and Daniel wasn’t going to drag him into things he wasn’t ready for. His attraction to Max was gross enough, his need to take him over his knee and spank him until he cried, then cuddle him and tell him how good he was was practically criminal.

He tried and failed not to think about it. He slammed two glasses of wine and took a long, cold shower, determined not to think of pretty blue eyes, plush lips, and ruddy cheeks stained with tears. He failed, miserably. He found himself scrolling on his phone, waiting for a reply from Max that never came. The text he’d sent him earlier was innocent enough for something written in a moment of weakness. A reassurance that he was proud of him and was on his side, because he knew Max needed it, even if the boy himself didn’t yet. He forced himself to put his phone down and try to go to sleep. He forced himself to put Max out of his head. He failed. He knew he’d failed the minute he let his hand slip under the covers. It was all too easy to side his hand under the loose waistband of his boxers, where his body was already starting to respond eagerly to the attention. It was too easy to imagine Max’s face as he’d seen it that day, but in a different position. Instead of huddled on the floor of his driver’s room, he was sprawled over Daniel’s lap, face pressed to the gray comforter, darkening it with his tears as Daniel’s hand spanked him over and over again, leaving his pale skin a pretty shade of pink. It was too easy to imagine the praises that would flow from his lips, telling Max how good he was, how proud he was of him, that it was okay to make mistakes because Daniel would always be there to catch him when he fell. It was too easy to spill over his hand and wipe it away with his boxers before collapsing back into bed, naked.

It wasn’t easy to forget Max’s face. 

Daniel Ricciardo was twenty-seven and he was in love with Max Verstappen. Daniel Ricciardo was going to hell.

*****

Daniel Ricciardo was twenty-eight and Max Verstappen was a few days shy of nineteen when they became teammates. Daniel knew when he picked up the phone that he was the first person Max called, and his heart swelled with pride at that. 

He wasn’t particularly sad to see Max taking Daniil’s seat. He and his former teammate had been friendly, but not friends. He was sad to see a good driver lose his seat, but he couldn’t be too sad when he remembered how much time he would be getting to spend with Max. They now got to see each other almost every day. They got to film PR videos together and Daniel got to make him laugh as they competed in ridiculous challenges and answered ridiculous questions. They got to race each other in the sim and pour over the data together in a conference room in Milton Keynes. They got to travel to races together and share a garage and occasionally a driver’s room when there wasn’t enough space at the track for each of them to have their own. Not that they minded. They usually ended up invading the other’s space over the course of the race weekend away, something Daniel had a sneaking suspicion that Christian already knew about. They even got to share a podium, Daniel on the top step as he’d predicted months ago, and Max to his right on the second step. When Daniel handed him the racing boot full of champagne, Max hadn’t hesitated. Instead he’d turned it up, downing the bubbly and sweat in one go. 

That night, they’d kissed for the first time in Daniel’s hotel room. 

*****

Max Verstappen was nineteen and happier than he’d ever been the first time he kissed Daniel Ricciardo. They’d shared a podium earlier in the day, followed by a sweaty racing boot filled with lukewarm, slightly flat champagne. It should have disgusted him, but it didn’t. He didn’t think anything about Daniel could ever disgust him. Even his sweat after a race.  

They’d celebrated with the team that night, probably too much for a group of people who had flights to catch the next morning, but they didn’t care. A double podium was something to celebrate to the fullest extent, the next day’s consequences be damned. He’d been a little surprised when Daniel invited him back to his hotel room. It wasn’t the first time they’d spent extra time together after a race, but it was the first time it had happened so late at night.

“I’m too wound up to sleep,” he’d explained when he extended the invitation. “We can watch a movie and just chill out until we both get tired.”

Max was already getting tired, but he refused to turn down a chance to spend extra time in Daniel’s presence.

“Okay,” he agreed and let the older man pull him into the elevator, only pressing one button, for the floor Daniel was staying on. 

He let Max borrow a hoodie, insisting he’d be more comfortable in that than his team polo that smelled vaguely of stale sweat and too much alcohol. They’d both showered after the race before going out to celebrate, so they changed their clothes and climbed onto the bed together. Max found he quite liked wearing Daniel’s hoodie. It was big and warm, and worn to the point of fraying around the sleeves and the hem but it was the softest thing Max had ever put on his body.. The smell of his cologne seemed to be woven into the fabric, and Max found himself tucking his face into the hood to breathe it in. He pressed himself to Daniel’s side as the older man scrolled Netflix on his laptop, looking for something to turn on. He eventually settled on an American sitcom he’d been insisting Max should watch, and balanced the computer against a spare pillow before getting comfortable and pulling Max in closer. He tucked his face into Daniel’s neck, his favorite spot to be when they hugged, and breathed in the smell of him straight from the source.

“You smell good,” he whispered, liquor and the late hour loosening his tongue.

He could hear Daniel’s smile more than see it when the older man pressed his nose to the top of Max’s head, took a small inhale and said, “You smell good too.”

Max sighed happily, even though he knew it was a lie. No one likes the smell of sweaty teenaged boy mixed with vodka and Red Bull but then again, Daniel seemed to like everything about him, so maybe it was the truth. He wiggled himself into Daniel’s space even more under the guise of shifting his position to get more comfortable. He was as close as he could get without being in his lap, which was something he’d thought about more than once. He could feel Daniel’s eyes on him, looking down at him and he tilted his head back to see him.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute.”

Max blushed and hid his face again, sure that Daniel could feel the heat of his cheeks through the fabric of his shirt.” You’re cute too,” he whispered.

They were silent for a few minutes before Max looked up again. He studied Daniel’s face, taking in his prominent nose, his soft brown eyes, and the slight turn of his lips. He wanted to commit every part of his face to memory, just in case he screwed it up with what he was about to ask.

“What is it Maxy?” Daniel asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Why?”

The word left Daniel’s mouth before he could think to stop it. He watched the way Max’s ears turned red and he pulled his shoulders up shrugging.

“Because I want to. Because I like you.”

“I like you too Max.”

“You do? Do you like me, or just like me? Like a friend or?”

Max trailed off and Daniel shifted so they were facing each other properly. He cupped Max’s cheek with his hand and brought their faces close together.

“I like you Max,” he said again. “As more than a friend. Even though I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young,” he protested. “I’m not a little kid Daniel.”

“I know you’re not,” he placated. “But I’m still a lot older than you.”

“Nine years isn’t that much,” Max insisted. “There’s a whole lot worse. I’m nineteen, almost twenty.”

“Yeah and I’m twenty-eight. Almost twenty-nine. Soon I’ll be thirty and then you’ll think I’m old and gross,” he was trying to make a joke but there wasn’t much humor in his voice.

It was a real fear he had, true self-conscious thoughts leaking their way out into the open. Sure Max liked him now. Maybe he was attracted to the fact that Daniel was older and more experienced. He’d had crushes on a few older men when he was in his early twenties too. But that meant he would age faster, he would retire from racing first and he would get old first. Then what would Max do? Would he still love him when Daniel was forty and washed up and Max was still in his prime? Would he still love him when he was holding the championship trophy that Daniel found was slipping further and further from his grasp?

“I would never think you were gross,” Max said, sincere in a way that Daniel would never believe in anyone else. Only Max was this honest with him. Only Max told the truth no matter what, brutally blunt and honest at the best and worst of times. “I don’t care if you’re older than me. I like you, I want to kiss you. I want to be with you.”

“I want that too,” Daniel admitted.

“Then kiss me. Please?”

So he did. He pressed his lips to Max’s and had to suppress a groan, feeling as overwhelmed as he had when he first kissed a boy behind the woodshed when he was sixteen. He tasted just as sweet as he’d always imagined, enhanced by the Red Bull he’d consumed over the day, undercut by the staleness of old vodka. His plump lips were slightly chapped, raw from Max’s habit of nibbling on them, but he didn’t care. It was Max. He pulled away and pressed another soft kiss to the freckle above his lip that he loved so much. Max smiled at him, eyes crinkling in happiness and Daniel pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him to his chest and never wanting to let him go. He said as much, rubbing circles on Max’s shoulders.

“If we do this, I’m never going to want to let you go Max.”

“I don’t want you to let me go. I want to stay with you always,” he said earnestly. 

Daniel smiled at him and kissed his forehead, “I don’t know about always. You’ll have to leave my side eventually Maxy. But we can start with tonight.”

“Tonight sounds good.”

Daniel closed the tab that contained the show they’d long forgotten and left the bed long enough to place his laptop back in his travel bag. He climbed back into bed and Max immediately filled the space in his arms, pressing so close Daniel wasn’t sure where he ended and Max began. It was good. So fucking good. 

Eventually they parted ways the next morning, Max flying back to Monaco and Daniel taking advantage of the week they had off before the final stint of races to see his family in Australia.

“So,” Max had said awkwardly. “What now?”

“What do you mean?” They were standing on the curb outside the hotel, waiting for their cars to take them where they needed to go.

“Are we-” Max cut himself off. “God it sounds so stupid.”

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend Max Verstappen?” Daniel asked, poking his ribs, teasing him.

“Yes?”

Daniel couldn’t help himself, leaning in to kiss him quickly.

“Yes Max. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Okay good.”

“You’re so cute. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“You can call me anytime. I know the time difference is weird but we’ll make it work.”

“I wish I could just come with you.”

“One day baby.”

“Baby?” Max squeaked.

“Do you not like that?” Daniel asked, suddenly worried he’d crossed a line.

Max shook his head quickly enough to give himself whiplash, “No I do. I was just surprised.”

“Well get used to it baby,” he said again teasingly.

Max saw their cars approaching in the distance and he turned quickly to hug Daniel tight again, “Schatje,” he whispered against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“What does that mean?” Daniel asked.

“It’s sort of like baby. But in Dutch.”

“Schatje,” Daniel repeated, fumbling over the foreign syllables but not doing a terrible job. “I like it.”

They parted ways then, getting into separate cars and Max felt an ache in his chest as he watched Daniel speed off in the opposite direction. If he never wanted to be apart from Daniel before, he really didn’t now. Not after he had gotten everything he wanted since he realized he was in love with him at seventeen.

It wasn’t until he was home and unpacking his bags that he realized Daniel had slipped something into his suitcase. As he was sorting through what was clean and what needed to be washed, his hands landed on soft fabric. He pulled it out and gasped recognizing the hoodie Daniel had let him borrow the night before. He snapped a picture and sent it to Daniel with a series of question marks, not bothering to do the math on what time it was there. Apparently, it wasn’t a bad time because Daniel responded almost immediately.

Danny: Just something to keep you company until I’m back. Don’t miss me too much baby, I’ll see you soon

*****

Max Verstappen was nineteen, almost twenty when Daniel Ricciardo became his boyfriend. He was twenty, almost twenty-one when the new racing season started and Daniel invited him to move in. He was twenty-one when Daniel finally told him what he’d meant that day, sitting on his driver’s room floor when he was eighteen.

[minsarasarahair]

Vesper be like “I’m not talented and entertaining. Why are you still watching me?” from his Unarchived Drunk stream

Tbh when it comes to technicalities, Vesper is having a hard time to catch up but the good thing is I don’t watch Vtubers when I became fan of him so its easy for me to like him. Instead of seeing the criteria of what a good vtuber is, I see him as a person. Tho I think the reason why I find him likable is he felt like an ordinary guy who’s just doing his best.

He’s barely active in Twitter and rarely interact with his fans. He’s very bad at updating his fans. He don’t retweet art that much and interact with other vtubers except with Holotempus and his senpais. 

The design of his stream overlay is quite simple and probably boring to some. His loading intro and outro are just illustrations and don’t have animation. One of his fan animated his intro for free.

Vtubers otaku find his character design and rigging ugly. Like its not expressive enough and has strong resemblance with Alucard. 

He’s not a singer, illustrator and not the best gamer of Holotempus. His strength is talking but he still need to improve with that.

He barely used his model’s expressions function unless you ask him. 

Very bad at reading superchats. If he missed your superchat, don’t expect he’ll read it. He even disabled getting superchats sometimes so that he can talk with Chat smoothly.

His audio quality is not the best. In the beginning, viewers always complain how he has such a low voice whenever he collab. In his unarchived drunk stream, he’s using a cheap xbox 360 mic yet 4k people are watching him live. He’s also learning ASMR. He want to focus in making relaxing sounds and storytelling ASMR without BFE fanservice. 

Flawed personality. Has anger issues that got him to suspension and tend to be cocky when he get excited. He also make dark self-loathing and self-harm jokes. He also need to improve that.

Despite how charming his model is, he’s the type of scholar who’s pathetic and actually stupid. People find it cute but some don’t like it bc they believe a vampire looking character should sound english/british. If you ask me, I like that he destroyed the stereotype of what a vampire character should sound like. 

He barely touch his character’s lore and talk about more his IRL experience. He love breaking 4th wall. For example, he explained when he flirt with Magni during stream is just a bit. For show. 

He tend to be addictive in streaming and forget other important things. Like he finished playing FTL in 7 hrs and claimed can still keep going without eating. He even joke about not attending the meeting with his manager just to continue playing.

Despite those flaws, I can’t help but cheer for him. How weird. You can also tell he has decent fandom. When he start singing Top of The World to celebrate reaching 200K subs, I don’t see anyone using the preg emoji in chat or complaining how bad he sounds like. I mean, there are probably weird annoying whippersnapper fans like those who keep mentioning his name in other Holotempus boys stream but most of his fans are mature adults. He said he has more male fans. Fans are fine if he’s not active in twitter as long as he’ll be back. If you see a Vestie saying “He hates us” or “I miss Nowa-oji”, its like a running gag in his fandom bc he tend to ignore or be cold to his fans but he do like his fans okay. I barely see people who’s unhealthy parasocial with him so far. I’m glad the problematic ones left and changed oshi.  

[takekawa]

it should be a requirement before taking a job as any type of social media ceo you have to endure one night of voice chat in xbox live voice coms circa 2009-2016

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

stumpy all this talk of recording dialogue with distracting gameplay audio over it... does mcc not have separate audio sliders for dialogue audio and other audio? most games do

You made me second guess myself but I went and checked again and it's bad.

I cannot turn up the voices in game - but I can do the voice chat options... that no one uses because we have discord and xbox live parties. MCC is wonderful but also held together with duct tape and Halo 4 itself is also A Mess.

I wish man....

I did just go and test turning down effects and turning up game volume but instead of gunfire drowning out the dialogue, the player spartan's grunts of pain are now way more audible. It sort of works, but again this is a mess of older games stapled together