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cripplecharacters · 12 hours

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Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?

[large text: Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?]

(TLDR: no. literally no.)

A frequent topic that shows up around facial differences is the self-hatred, self-disgust, self-insert-negative-emotion that we must surely experience. I want to ask* writers without FDs - why? Why do you feel about us in such a way that that's the most common way of depicting us?

*- rhetorical question. I promise I know the answers, but I'm not sure if writers do.

It's frankly worrying to me. Is it really that common to assume that disabled people have this internal, never-ending hatred for themselves? The overwhelming majority of us don't. We hate inaccessibility, when people stare, or some symptoms when they get in the way, or how expensive being disabled is, but I find the concept of us being so completely disturbed by our own disabilities extremely strange. It’s “tragedy porn” intersecting “most basic ableism”.

“But trauma!”

[large text: “But trauma!”]

Trauma of what! People with facial differences don't have some sort of default trauma that we come with like it’s a factory setting. We are a group of people with tens of thousands of stories and experiences!

“Trauma of experiencing ableism/disfiguremisia” - that's better, at least this means something. If you're writing a story about this, please get a sensitivity reader with a facial difference. You can assume how we feel all you want, but in my experience these assumptions are often bizarre and unrealistic. Or just end up writing the same “disability so sad” sob story that everyone has seen a billion times. If you want to write about disfiguremisia, you need to understand the nuance and have more than just the basic level knowledge (which 99% of people don’t have either). If you can’t do that, don’t write about it. Simple as that.

“Trauma of the accident” - thankfully, the accident is an event and a facial difference is a disability. If you want to connect these two like they're one and the same, you're almost surely going to demonize disability. People with traumatic spinal cord injuries, acquired amputees, people with TBI, people with acquired facial differences - we participate in our communities, we have hobbies, we date, we play with our dogs. Disability isn't a death sentence. Media who make it feel like it is certainly don't help people who do suddenly become disabled, don't you think?

Here's a post by @blindbeta about blind characters becoming blind through trauma that’s better made than anything I could hope to write here. I heavily recommend giving it a read.

And, I can't stress this enough - most of us didn't have “the accident”, most of us are born like this! "Traumatic scars" isn't the only facial difference that exists, far from it, it's only one of thousands. It's 99% of our representation and "representation". If you want to make a character with FD - please consider that we aren't a monolith. Just like not all physical disabilities are "wheelchair user with paralysis", not all facial differences are "traumatic scar with somehow no nerve damage".

The overrepresentation of it is incredibly telling, and sometimes - or very frequently - feels like the writer doesn’t actually even want to deal with us. They want to use our disability as a way to cheap drama, moral metaphors, tragic backstories. Not to represent us as living people who are much more similar to you than you apparently think.

Now, I do have enough awareness to know that that's a big part of the appeal. “Horrific Thing #2456 happens” and boom, instant drama! Of course, it's a reasonable response that they would hide their disability for years, avoid talking about it in any way, and magically change their personality to be mean and reclusive, or at least be constantly soooo sad about how much it sucks to be disabled, right?

Do I really need to say that having your character becoming disabled be the worst thing ever is ableism 101? We have been talking about this for so long at this point. Writing about the process of adapting to a specific disability is better left to people who have actual experience in it.

To give an example that will hopefully resonate more with Tumblr users, I will use the fact that I'm also gay. It's not perfect by any means but probably much more familiar territory.

Imagine, let's say, a character. He's gay. The story he's in is supposedly progressive, certainly not trying to be homophobic. The character has experienced an incident, maybe an act of aggression or a hate crime, that happened because he’s gay, which was traumatic. Happens IRL, sure. So of course the character starts hating being gay. He talks about how gross and disgusting it is, he never lets anyone know that he could be “one of them”, certainly not take a stance against homophobia. You can't mention him without mentioning the accident, they're seemingly fused together. No gay love, joy, even basic happiness, he would actually choose to be straight in a heartbeat if given the option to and complains that he can't. This is shown as a neutral, obvious thing that a gay man would do, no one comments on it. He stays like this the whole time, unless there’s a plot twist in the last 10 pages where the world is now magically perfect ("we fixed discrimination, yay!"). This is the only LGBT character in the story.

Keep in mind that there are people similar to this in real life, living with extreme internalized homophobia.

Is this, in your opinion, realistic and thoughtful representation? How does it feel when written by a cishet writer, versus a gay writer who is recalling his experiences? Do you think that it's reasonable for the majority of media representation to be like this, or very close to it? How would it affect younger gay people who might already be uncomfortable with being queer? Are gay men the target audience, or are they not even considered as a group of people who read books? Is this helping or damaging the general public's idea of how it is to be gay? Why or why not?

The Masterpiece

[large text: The Masterpiece]

From 13 to 19 of May, we are celebrating Face Equality week (what a coincidence!). It’s important to me in general - and I wish it was more important to abled people, but I digress - especially its theme for this year.

“My Face is a Masterpiece”

Great statement, it represents the community well, I do enjoy how bold it is. Very cool stuff, I love the work our advocates are doing!

But why do I bring this up?

Well, to very non-subtly show that we aren’t a self-hating group of people. We are a community, a community saying “our faces are beautiful, look!”, we are saying “treat us equally, and do it now!”. Our activism isn’t about self-disgust. It’s about fighting your-disgust.

Why can’t writers keep up? Why are you still stuck decades behind?

Is this the only reason I bring it up?

The Call to Celebration

[large text: The Call to Celebration]

FEI, the org behind organizing it, asks a very simple question (emphasis mine):

“Why do we so often see stories about facial difference as a ‘tragedy’, when they should be about triumph?” “Calling all artists, allies, creatives, galleries. You can rewrite the story to bring about #FaceEquality and celebrate the unique artistry found in every face. Your participation this #FaceEqualityWeek will help to tell the real story, that there is a masterpiece in every face.”

Here. We are calling for you to stop. Directly from the biggest international advocacy alliance group that's out there. If you create, this is for you.

The last argument to not have your character with a facial difference hate themselves? Because we don’t want this. We are tired and frustrated. For me personally, I’m also offended by this kind of assumption. We aren’t tragedies or cheap entertainment for abled people to pity or be horrified by. We are people, and if you can’t internalize that, you have no reason to write about us.

For once, celebrate us. Happy Face Equality Week!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #face difference #ableism #disfiguremisia #face equality week #my face is a masterpiece #writing guide #writing help #writeblr #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing characters #how to write #writing disabled characters #writing disability

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effwon · 1 day

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'cause i don't think that they'd understand || ln4 x reader (Part 1)

Summary: Lando just wants to walk down to the garage before the Miami race with you by his side. George and Carmen walked in together, Alex and Lily walked in together, so why can't you, as well? Despite your self-consciousness, you agree to walk hand-in-hand with him down to the garage right before the big race, but it's a much harder ask for you than anyone could ever realize.

Plus-size (she/her) Reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Brief mentions of nausea/being sick, panic, reader is plus-sized and very down on herself about it, weight mentions, ect.

Characters: Lando Norris (your boyfriend) and feat Oscar Piastri as a last minute saving grace for you.

Rating: G, for now.

“I want you to walk down to the garage with me.”

You blink in surprise, Lando’s words are so sudden and so firm that it makes goosebumps raise on your skin. Walk to the garage with him? But that would mean…

“What? Why?” you ask, folding down the page in the book you’re reading, before placing it down softly on the table beside you. A slugging, churning feeling arises in your gut as you realize exactly what it is he’s asking of you.

“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re my girlfriend, I want you to walk with me into the garage.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And, perhaps, for any other woman in this world it might just be.

But it isn’t for you. This is quite possibly one of the most difficult things he could ever ask you to do, and that alone makes you feel horrible. Lando deserves a normal girlfriend, who can react normally to very normal situations. Not someone who makes his life even more difficult than it already is.

You sigh heavily, knowing if you refuse you will just upset him. “I - are you sure you want to be seen with me? People will talk and they won’t be nice…” “Babe, we’ve had this conversation before. Just one walk down to the garage with me, that’s all I’m asking.”

You frown again, daring to look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a desperation in his eyes, something that tugs at your heartstrings. What Lando doesn’t realize is that the backlash won’t fall too heavily on him - but on you…?

Oh, the fans and the media will eat you up. Lando is dating a fat girl? That will decorate the tabloid headlines for days, perhaps even weeks or months. The thought alone makes you sick. But how can you say no to him when he’s so earnest, when he wants to show you off, regardless if you deserve it or not?

“Yeah, okay.” You finally reply, looking away from Lando and down to the floor. He notices this, however, and kneels down in front of you, grabbing one of your hands in both of his own. His hands are so warm and so immediately comforting, working to ease the rapid beat of your heart in your chest.

“It’ll be okay. I promise. And just think, you’ll finally be able to come see the garage and paddock!” His voice is so cheerful, so genuinely happy and excited for you to be there with him. It’s touching, to say the least, but you are loath to admit that your excitement level is not nearly on par with his. Not even slightly.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve wanted to see them for so long.” The lack of enthusiasm in your voice does dull the excitement in his eyes, but he holds steady. Admirable, really. A trait you wish you could share with him.

“It’s almost time. Why don’t you go ahead and get ready, and we can walk down in about an hour?”

An hour? Well - here’s hoping you can actually make yourself look even somewhat presentable in such a short amount of time.

“You’ll help me pick out my dress, right?” you ask.

The light immediately comes back to his eyes, and he beams at you with the very same smile that won your heart the night you met him.

“Of course! Fashion show time!”

Lando ends up picking the teal colored sundress, something that suits your taste and simultaneously compliments some of your key features. It fits well, with no need for you to suck in your stomach to make it look nicer or more appealing, and hides some of your less than desirable attributes (the rolls, god, the rolls) with ease.

You feel comfortable enough, with only a light amount of makeup on your face, and your feet are settled into white flats instead of the heels you had originally picked out. Lando liked them as well, but urged you to go for something more comfortable and carefree.

You genuinely do feel okay, but the bitter taste of anxiety still stirs the acid of your stomach as you think about the amount of eyes that will be on you and Lando in a few moments.

“Hey beautiful,” Lando says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, you suck in your stomach to try and lessen the circumference of your belly. Lando tenses, but he doesn’t push the issue, keeping you nestled safely in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “You just about ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you reply softly, leaning only a portion of your weight back against him. He doesn’t let go for a few moments, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear.

“I’m proud of you. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re only doing this for me, but I hope you can manage to enjoy it as well. You may not want the world to know you’re mine, but I do.” Lando explains, nipping at your ear with gentle teeth. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you cannot help but smile at his antics.

“Well, we’ll see what all the news sources are saying in the morning. You know for a fact my issue isn’t being seen with you, it’s you being seen with me.”

“Who cares what they say? How I feel about you is what matters, not what the public thinks about a relationship they know nothing about.” Lando’s voice is firm and leaves no room for argument - likely because this IS an argument the two of you have had time and time again.

You open your mouth to respond, but Lando’s PR Agent gestures a bit frantically at you both and all of a sudden, Lando is no longer behind you but at your side, lacing your fingers together.

“Deep breath, babe. It’s go time.”

Oh.

You take a deep breath and hold it in your lungs, fearful that if you breathe at all, you might mess this up entirely. Lando’s hand is warm and firm in your own, steady while your mentality feels anything but. There’s no time to prepare yourself for the walk - Lando is moving and on instinct, you move fluidly alongside him. Your heart is racing impossibly hard in your chest and somehow only gets faster as you step out onto the grass and the sun shines down upon you and Lando like a blinding spotlight.

You hear the clicking of cameras before you see the media snapping shots of you and Lando as you walk hand-in-hand towards the McLaren garage. You can already hear the shouts of fans at home, screaming about how Lando could possibly be dating someone so fat and unattractive when he’s literally a celebrity and could have anyone he wanted. You can see the offensive articles, wondering what’s gone wrong in Lando’s head to be dating someone so average and so unathletic when all of the other drivers are dating what could be (and in some cases ARE) models.

So many eyes are on you both, and you still haven’t been able to take a breath just yet. You feel Lando’s hand squeeze yours, but you are unable to squeeze back. You just want to be at the garage and tucked back away from the eyes of the media so you can regain your bearings.

And then finally, after what feels like a marathon of a walk, you feel the grass turn to solid ground beneath your feet and the smells of the garage hit your senses like a brick wall. Everything slowly comes back into focus and you realize you’ve finally made it to the other side. Your gut is churning, but you let out the breath you have been holding since you took your first step out and it eases some of the bubbling tension in your chest.

Lando’s hand leaves yours fairly suddenly, but he immediately pops up in your line of sight, beaming at you like you’ve just handed him the sun, the moon, and all the stars. You swallow thickly, hoping to keep down the nausea that threatens you, and offer up a tight smile of your own.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks, pulling you in by your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You are still within sight of the media cameras and you hear a few clicking somewhere off to your right, which does little to help quell the nausea.

“It was fine, yeah.” You say, and it’s incredible just how weak your own voice sounds. “Can we, uh - can we go someplace in the back for a minute? Away from the cameras?”

“Of course,” Lando says, and concern begins to blossom on his features. His eyebrows furrow, gaze focused solely on you as you still try your best to smile at him. “I have to get changed into my kit anyway.”

Lando’s hand is back in yours instantly, and he gently guides you through crew members and winding hallways until you’re far enough away from all of the commotion that you can barely hear it anymore. Your breath is shaky as you inhale, but the relief is almost immediate now that you are out of the public eye.

“Are you okay?” Lando asks after a few seconds of studying your face. “I’m sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?”

“No, no, no.” you interrupt him, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. “It’s just a lot. I’m not used to these kinds of things, not like you are. And there were so many cameras…”

“You learn to ignore the cameras.” He says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry about them, they’re just an annoyance anyway. You’re here to watch me race, and I promise you the McLaren crew will take great care of you while you do.”

Your smile feels a bit more genuine now as the nerves begin to drift off. You know you’ll have cameras in your face likely the entire time Lando is racing, but knowing that you have the support of McLaren while you’re here helps a bit. Lando has been with these people for years now, you can only imagine they’ve grown quite close in that time.

“I’m sure they will. I - uh - is there a bathroom back here somewhere?” You look around a bit frantically, overcome by the sudden intense nausea that hits you now that the worst of the nerves have tapered off. Sweat builds on your forehead and you begin to feel a bit clammy and lightheaded, but Lando either doesn’t notice, or you’ve managed to keep yourself steady enough as to not rouse suspicion.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll take you there,” he says, looking around to gain his bearings. He circles his fingers around your wrist and leads you back towards the heart of the garage, but stops before you get to the more heavily trafficked areas. It’s a small, unassuming restroom meant for one person at a time, but it will do. “Here you are. I actually need to change, so I’ll come back for you once I’m set up, okay?”

“Sounds good.” You confirm, leaning in to kiss him when you see him do the same. He offers you a comforting smile and then takes off into the clamor of the garage to get himself ready for the race. You watch him weave through crowds of crew and media personnel, and once he’s no longer within your sight, you turn around and rush into the bathroom without a moment to spare.

The nausea is almost overpowering, and you can’t even make it to the toilet before you feel your stomach rolling. You grasp desperately at the vanity, emptying your nerves into the sink with a violent heave and a shudder. Panic is starting to claw its way up your throat now that you’ve been sick, and you grip the sides of the vanity so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The nausea, thankfully, goes away now that you’ve emptied your stomach into the sink, but a much worse feeling creeps up to take its place.

You reach forward with trembling hands and turn on the sink, cleaning out the mess you’ve just made. Thankfully, a few splashes of water around the sink (and a few swishes in your mouth) manage to clean out everything so there’s no evidence left of your struggle.

You back yourself against the wall now, feeling your heart beating faster all over again, and the sweat begins to feel cold on your forehead. Panic is no new sensation, but you can’t help but curse the timing of this attack. It makes sense - given the overstimulation and the nervousness you just fought your way through, but you had hoped deep in your heart that you would be able to handle this without a breakdown.

You could not have been more wrong.

You begin to take deep, shuddering breaths at far too rapid a pace. You know you have to get your breathing under control, or this will spiral until you’re pathetically hyperventilating alone in a McLaren bathroom. You rush forward to turn the water back on, hoping that splashing some on your face might help snap you out of it, when you hear the handle of the restroom door jiggle.

Your stomach lurches again when you realize in your haste, you forgot to lock the door.

“Yeah, mate. I’ll be back in a few.” You hear a familiar voice say, muffled slightly by the noise buzzing around the garage.

As soon as the person steps inside the restroom and your eyes meet, you feel like you could be sick again. It’s none other than Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate and friend at McLaren, and he’s staring at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Hey,” he greets, and it’s so incredibly soft - as if he might be speaking to a cornered, wounded animal. “Hey, are you alright?”

You can’t reply to him just yet - your breathing is out of control and nausea is hitting you again from the depths of absolute hell. As if this day couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, you WOULD have a mental breakdown in front of Lando’s teammate.

You simply stare back at him in shock, like he’s the most terrifying thing you could possibly see, and you finally manage to choke out a weak and pitiful, “No.”

You watch as Oscar gently locks the door behind you both - a blessing, really, to keep anyone else from walking in on you in such an embarrassing state. He keeps his expression neutral, only taking one step into the bathroom with his hands palm-up to show he means no harm.

“You need to breathe, okay? Think you can breathe with me?” Oscar asks, his voice echoing in the small space. He swallows thickly, another sound that’s easy to pick up in the confined space, but he patiently waits for you to respond.

“I don’t - I don’t know -” you reply, hands slapping against the wall as you try to find something to grip onto for balance. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we give it a try, at least?” Oscar tries again, looking far more concerned than you think he has any right to be. He hardly knows you, after all.

“I - I can -” but the words die on your lips as your legs give out beneath you. You fall to your knees on the tile floor and that’s when Oscar jumps quickly into action. You feel unfamiliar arms wrap around your shoulders, a cushion to keep your head from smashing against the floor, and the last thing you see are Oscar’s frightened eyes above you, the echo of your name frantically erupting from the back of his throat as your vision fades out.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #x reader fanfic #f1 x reader #plus sized reader #driver x reader #hides my face under all these tags #this is my first ever x reader so be kind thanks

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formula-nyoom · 1 day

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Hi! I’m currently recovering from a pretty bad hip injury and am doing physical therapy right now. PT’s been really hard and hurts my hip like hell, so I was wondering if you could maybe write about either a McLaren or Ferrari driver (your choice) who’s going through it after a hip injury and is just having a really tough time, but all of the drivers (especially Lando, Charles, Carlos, Oscar, and Daniel if that’s okay - I know it’s a lot hahaha) are there to reassure her and cheer her on.

If you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I totally understand! I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night! :)

A/N: Hope I did ok with this one. Midterms prevented me from working on this but I tried to finish this as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy it.

Realistically you should be grateful that you can still walk after the massive crash you went through in Jeddah. Well “walk” is a loose term. Having to go through physical therapy and making sure your hip heals properly, you’re not able to put any weight on your foot and have to use crutches to walk. The combination of that and the lingering pain has not made the recovery process easy. But thankfully, you were only the reserve driver for Ferrari, which means you didn’t have to rush your recovery.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked as he packed your bag for the day while you laid on the bed in your hotel room. Him and Carlos had been helping you throughout the week with getting around the Australian circuit and you were very grateful for your fellow teammates' willingness to help.

“I don’t want to walk or move. I don’t want to go anywhere.” You said.

“I could carry you if you’d like.” Carlos said. You shook your head.

“And risk you pulling your stitches? You just got cleared to get back in the car and we both know Ferrari can’t afford to have Bearman drive right now.” You told him.

“Please at least let me carry your stuff or drive you to the track. I'm the whole reason you got hurt.” Carlos said.

“No you're not Carlos. It's my own fault I crashed.” You said. You could tell that Carlos felt guilty about you having to fill in for him and then crashing during the race, but you kept trying to reassure him that injuries like yours came with the job of being a race car driver. The only person to blame for your injury is yourself, not the teammate you were filling in for.

“But if my appendix didn't burst, you wouldn’t have been in the car.” Carlos said. Charles rolled his eyes.

“Ok, the two of you can assign blame all you want for the rest of the day, but right now, we have to get to the paddock.” Charles said. “(Y/N), I will help you get down to the car. Carlos, you can carry her stuff.”

Charles helped you get out of bed and get situated with your crutches while Carlos grabbed your bag and the two helped you get down to the hotel lobby.

~~~

You had barely made it past the paddock entrance and the fan barricades before everything started to hurt. You knew that navigating the paddock was going to be difficult but you didn’t expect to have to stop and rest everytime your hip decided to flare up with pain. You had already told Carlos and Charles to go ahead of you, not wanting to slow them down. They were hesitant to leave you behind, but you assured them that it’s better they make it to the team meeting on time than have them constantly wait for you.

“Hey (Y/N)! How are you doing?” You looked up from leaning on your crutches to see Daniel and Oscar approaching you. They seemed to be in high spirits with it being their home race.

“I’m doing ok. I’m trying to get to the Ferrari garage but I’m having some difficulty.” You said, motioning to your hip.

“Let me help you then. I’ll give you a piggyback and get you there in no time.” Daniel said.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to risk anything before your home race.”

“Nonsense. Plus it’s better than you having to walk all the way on crutches.” Daniel said with a smile that was hard to say no to you. You reluctantly agreed and handed your crutches to Oscar before climbing on Daniel’s back.

“C’mon, I’ll get you to the Ferrari garage.” Daniel said. Oscar followed you two and the three of you started conversing on your expectations for the upcoming race. You did admit to Daniel that the piggyback was much better than walking. Without the crutches, your hands were free to wave to fans as you passed and that helped improve your mood.

“Oh, (Y/N). My gran made these for the McLaren team and I grabbed you one as a get well soon gift.” Oscar said, handing you a nicely wrapped pastry.

“Aww, thanks Osc.” You said. You unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. It was delicious and you smiled.

“Oh my god. Oscar, can your gran send these to me every time I get injured? I can already feel my hip healing.” You said. Oscar chuckled.

“I’ll let her know you liked them. But promise me you won’t get injured just for the sake of my gran’s baking.” Oscar said.

“I promise.” You told him.

~~~

“What if I don't recover from this?”

It was late at night. You and other drivers were at a club celebrating Carlos’s win, but you had to step out to get some air.

“You will. And after you've recovered, you'll win the next race you're in. It's a basic guarantee now with Carlos’s win.” Lando said, who had decided to join you outside to make sure you were ok.

“I won’t be in another race for a long while. Either Charle’s appendix needs to burst or Kevin needs to get more penalty points for me to be in another race this season.” You said.

“Well with the way Magnussen drives, I think you’ll actually have a shot again this season.” Lando said. The two of you let out small laughs, knowing that statement was sort of true.

“I have to be fully healed before they let me get back into the car.” You said, your smile slowly dropping. “With how everything keeps hurting, especially after physical therapy, I can’t help but feel like that’s not a possibility.”

“Hey, look at me.” Lando moved your head so you could look him in the eyes.

“I know my words can’t automatically heal you, but I need you to know that this pain will eventually pass. You’ll heal, and you’ll get back in that car.” He said. He placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side without trying to aggravate your injury.

“And when you do get back in that car, you’ll win that race. Proving that nothing can stop you.”

The smile returned to your face and you pulled Lando in for a hug.

“I can feel myself getting better already.”

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader

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mariclerc · 2 days

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Can you do a fic where the reader works for Ferrari and has been friends with Charles for a long time, and recently Charles and the reader have a friends with benefits thing going on, but the reader is actually in love with him. Then when Lewis moves to Ferrari, he takes an interest in the reader, the reader decides to give him a shot and stops the situationship with Charles and he realises he doesn't want to let her go.

thank you for this request, this was a little bit hard to make because i was looking at how to develop the story but I really liked how it came out, I hope you like it!

Confusions at work | cl16 & lh44

Summary: when you have feelings for your situationship but a new person gets in the middle of it. Warnings: a little angst, confused reader, and fluff at the end.

The garage bustles with mechanics working on the gleaming red cars. You lean over the table to see the monitor with the different strategies for the first practice session of the day. Charles walks towards you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Looking stunning with that frowned face y/n... As always.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. You have known Charles since his great season in Formula 2 back in 2017, by then you were already working as an internal race engineer in the Haas team, you were practically like Sheldon from the big bang theory - a brainiac. Upon meeting Charles there was an instant connection, it was as if you had always known each other, eventually, you were promoted from Haas to Ferrari in 2019, just the same year that Charles was promoted to the red team too, and ever since then the easy camaraderie between you has turned into something more... A secret, friends-with-benefits situation that both sets your heart ablaze and tears it in two.

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the cameras, Perceval. You know perfectly well I can take you down with a bad strategy any day.” you chuckled.

Charles feigns offense, but his laughter betrays him. You share a comfortable silence, a familiarity that speaks volumes. The moment is shattered by the arrival of Lewis Hamilton, the new star driver at Ferrari. Arriving at that first meeting at Maranello his gaze settles on you, a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes. Fred had offered you a change of position with Adami to be Lewis' race engineer, but the comfort and confidence you already had working with Charles made you decline the offer, likewise, working with a seven-time world champion is a privilege, since you can learn a lot from him, but you and Charles had practically grown up together at Ferrari and out of loyalty to him you stayed with him.

The following weeks are a whirlwind. Lewis tries to get close to you, and as a result, you end up having some dates and night-outs with him. He is charismatic, attentive, you dare to say that he's a bit similar to Charles in so many ways since both of them treat you with such care and kindness. You find yourself drawn to his confidence and outgoing demeanor, a stark contrast to Charles' usual genuine and soft care towards you. Guilt gnaws at you, but the thrill of something new is intoxicating... And with a little sadness in your heart, you decide to end things with Charles... At least for a little while you try to understand what your heart wants.

One night you went to Charles' apartment, and you entered with the extra key that he had given you a long time ago. Charles' apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual post-race buzz. You stand awkwardly in the living room, avoiding his gaze.

You gulped. “Charles... I think we need to talk.”

He looks up, a frown creasing his forehead. The air crackles with unspoken emotions. “Y/n what's wrong sweetie? Did I do something wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “It's about this.” you sigh. “This thing between us... It can go anymore.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air, Charles' frown deepens, his eyes searching yours. “Is it Lewis? Is this about him?” he asked.

The truth hangs on your tongue, a bitter pill to swallow. “Maybe, maybe not... The point is, things need to change... We need to take a break... At least for a little while.”

Charles stands abruptly, his frustration palpable. “Just like that? We throw away everything because of... what? Because some shiny new toy showed up?” His words sting, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes - a vulnerability you haven't seen before.

“It's not that simple, Charles. You know it's... Complicated.”

Tears well up in your eyes, this isn't how you imagined this conversation going. You practically run out of Charles' apartment, frustrated because you don't know if you did the right thing and at the same time you don't know if being with Lewis is the same as being with Charles... Because at the end of the day, he somehow manages to see through you and understand you on a level that Lewis cannot.

Days turn into weeks, you and Charles avoid each other. The only words that come out of your mouth are simply a "hello" and a "see you later", occasionally long sentences when you're giving him directions during the race or at the team debrief, the air is thick with unspoken tension. The joy has gone out of working at Ferrari... You see the way Lewis looks at you, but a hollow ache fills your chest. At night you constantly think about what you would be doing with Charles at that exact moment, perhaps cuddling up watching a movie, or a normal date at his house eating pizza, wearing matching socks and playing Mario kart... And even though Lewis takes you to glamorous galas, lavish dinners and so on, you don't complain about it, on the contrary, you're grateful for it, but, there's nothing like that instant connection with Charles.

One afternoon, Charles corners you near his car. His eyes are stormy, a mix of anger and something else you can't decipher.

You hear him sigh. “I miss you y/n... Like hell.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You miss him too, the easy banter, the way he understood you without words, the way his eyes spark every single time he was next to you.

“Charles... I...” you say shyly but he cuts you off, his voice rough.

“Don't... Don't tell me you miss Lewis...because if you do, I'll understand. But at least know this – this thing we have, it's real, at least for me. It's more than just crazy strategies and stolen kisses after victories. Maybe I haven't said it, haven't shown it the way you deserve, but I care about you, y/n... A lot.”

His confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable, you've never seen him that way. You can see the years of unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface. Tears prick your eyes, blurring the image of Charles in front of you.

A million things fight for dominance in your mind: the thrill of the new with Lewis, the comfortable companionship with Charles, the undeniable spark you share with him.

Taking a shaky breath, you meet his gaze.

”Charles, I... I don't know what I want... I mean, Lewis is exciting, a new challenge. But with you... it's different, it's easy, familiar, it's warm. But it's also... frustrating you know? You never give anything away, never let anyone in all the way.”

A flicker of pain crosses Charles' features. He reaches out, hesitantly placing a hand on your arm. “I'm scared y/n... Scared of losing you, scared of letting myself feel something this real. But if you're willing to take a chance, maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.” he says softly.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken emotions. You look into Charles' eyes, searching for a glimpse of the future you both could have. The weight of the decision settles on your shoulders. You glance around the garage, the familiar red of the Ferraris a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. Lewis' confident smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly replaced by the image of Charles' vulnerability, a side you've never seen before.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Charles' gaze, a flicker of determination replacing your earlier uncertainty.

“Okay Charles, let's figure this out... Together.” you say softly.

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him. He pulls you into a tight embrace, the scent of his familiar cologne grounding you, it feels like coming home.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for taking a chance on us.” he whispers in your ear.

You pull back slightly, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “Just don't expect me to lose in the strategy game anytime soon, Leclerc... This isn't over yet.”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, the tension finally breaking. He ruffles your hair affectionately.

“I wouldn't have it any other way amour... Wouldn't have it any other way.” he smiles. (love)

The garage and the pit wall is mostly deserted, the day's work winding down. You're packing up some of your things when Lewis approaches, a determined look in his eyes.

“Hey, y/n! Can I talk to you?” he asked with a friendly smile on his face.

You hesitate, then nod, gesturing towards a quiet corner. Lewis leans against a wall, his voice gets a little serious.

“I saw you and Charles... And I get it now, there's something there, a history I can't compete with.” There's a hint of disappointment in his voice, but mostly understanding.

“Lewis, I... I'm really sorry. Things just moved too fast too soon, and I realized what I was risking.” you say softly but Lewis offers a shy smile.

“No need to apologize, but follow your heart, y/n! That's all any of us can do... Besides, maybe next time on the track, I can finally knock your team off that top spot in the strategy battle.”

A genuine smile graces your lips. “Don't count on it, Hamilton. But hey, maybe we can grab a coffee sometime and hash out some friendly competition strategies. No promises on who'll win, though.”

Lewis chuckles, the tension dissipating. He extends his hand for a handshake. “Deal! And good luck with Charles. He's a lucky guy!”

You shake his hand, a newfound sense of clarity settling within you, he gives you a warm smile and a friendly hug. As Lewis walks away, you glance towards Charles, who's watching the exchange with a hint of possessiveness in his eyes. You catch his gaze and he winks at you, a silent promise hanging between you.

He walks towards you with a little smile on his face and takes you in his arms.

“So... How about we get out of here? I could use a real shower you know?” you say and Charles' smile widens, genuine relief washing over his features.

“Sounds like a plan. My place, or yours?” he asks softly.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken possibilities. You know this is a turning point in your relationship, a chance to rebuild something stronger.

“Your place only if you promise to make that killer pasta dish you always brag about.” you say teasingly.

Charles lets out a mock groan, but there's a twinkle in his eye. “Fine, fine. But you have to help me chop the vegetables! No bystanders in my kitchen, okay?” You laugh, the tension finally breaking. As you finally grab all of your things, Charles slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's get out of here before someone challenges me to another mario kart race.” he smiles softly. “You know I can't resist a good challenge, especially when you're involved.”

You nudge him playfully, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest.

”Oh, I'm sure you can handle it, Leclerc. But just you wait, next time I'm schooling you.”

Together you walk out of the garage, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the racetrack. The future is uncertain, but with a newfound commitment to each other, you're ready to face it head-on. You and Charles head towards his car, the promise of a home-cooked meal and a chance to reconnect hanging heavy in the air.

#formula one x reader #poly!f1 #poly!drivers x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles x you #lewis hamilton #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #cl16 x lh44 x reader #poly!drivers #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles x reader

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flowerandblood · 23 hours

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rheanys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

_____

Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days

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I'm so fucking tired of seeing this big yandere blogs everywhere. All you people do is decimate and destroy beautifully crafted characters in favor of making them fit into the cheap yandere archetype.

18k followers is a big number but I don't know why so many people stick around.

I could answer this ask in so many ways, but I'll be nice and humor you.

Yes, there definitely is a surge in dark romance/yandere content these past few years, particularly on Booktok where the most popular books typically have a very messy and morally grey male lead, typically followed by an insane level of smut. Some of the criticisms on there are valid and I even find myself agreeing with them, this also includes yandere fanfiction.

However. The beauty of fanfiction is that you are allowed to ignore the canon. But, in order for fanfiction to work properly, the author needs to be familiar at least somewhat with the canon, accept that canon and then throw it out the window because why not.

The point of fanfiction is to have fun. Dark romance received a boom because people (god I hope so) understand that this shit would not fly in real life, and it's just easier to indulge in it in various forms of media.

You probably won't care for my answer because I have a suspicion that you're just here to be a hater. Regardless, I hope this ask perhaps helped you understand why people like this stuff so much.

#♥️ girlie says

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evilminji · 12 hours

Text

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

#dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #minji's writing #Zone Shops Au #Shops of Wonder Au

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tenderleavesbob · 3 days

Text

Time was half asleep, and Warriors was brushing his hair.

Twilight watched them and felt like he was missing something. It was always relaxing when Warriors brushed his hair. Everyone liked it when Warriors brushed their hair. He was good at avoiding painful snags and he always hummed something soft and the calluses on his hands were so different from Uli's but no less soothing. He was the only one able to brush Legend's hair and the only one allowed to cut Wild's.

When Warriors brushed Time's hair, it was like they were in their own little world. They whispered together in a language Twilight didn't understand, and Warriors hummed an unfamiliar tune.

Maybe it should have felt frustrating or disturbing, but it felt soothing. Those two always seemed to carry so much in their shoulders. At least they had these moments. Twilight didn't hold it against them none. He hoped they got some peace from it.

When they looked like they were wrapping up, Twilight grabbed his crystal and transformed into a familiar form. He wanted Warriors to brush him now, too.

Warriors hummed a familiar tune and Twilight howled merrily along. By the time they were done, Wolfie's coat was clean and Warriors and Time were breathless with laughter. It was a good night.

#lu time #lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu twilight

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anghraine · 1 day

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Hello, i want to ask about an exchange in Pride and Prejudice between Darcy and Miss Bingley about "fine eyes". Why did Darcy tell Caroline ? I know by "he was thinking of her with some complacency" that he is saying the truth but why did he tell her?And what does "great intrepidity" mean? I am SO confused

In context, Caroline is trying to establish a sense of rapport and bonding between herself and Darcy as part of her general pursuit of him. In this scene, she's emphasizing her familiarity and understanding of him by telling him that she knows what he's thinking. Darcy warns her that she probably doesn't. Caroline then vents her own feelings of contempt that she assumes he shares (not altogether irrationally, though she does completely ignore his reply) and emphasizes their total agreement.

Her attempts are generally pretty transparent, and undoubtedly are very obvious to Darcy here. His reactions to Caroline seem to range from "she's a somewhat irritating but at least familiar and tolerable fellow hater" to "something between sardonic amusement at her expense and active annoyance" to "I am genuinely offended." I think at this point that he's not seriously offended, but does find the whole maneuver pretty contemptible and annoying.

Basically, revealing that he's thinking of something entirely different—the pleasantness of a pretty woman's "fine eyes"—directly rejects Caroline's attempt to claim rapport through understanding him without providing specifics. Caroline does not really pick up on the implicit rejection of what she's trying to do, and deliberately fixes her eyes on him, clearly hoping for some hint that he's referring to her and this is an elaborate form of flirtation. Darcy's identification of the woman with fine eyes as Elizabeth immediately shuts that down.

We know that Darcy will be concerned about the possibility that he's led Elizabeth on after their Netherfield debates, in a way that's both comically arrogant in terms of their actual interactions and severely principled in terms of his sense of appropriate conduct towards women. So I tend to think what's going on here is a mixture of feeling it would be pretty shitty to let Caroline imagine he was thinking about her while, at the same time, being simply annoyed with her.

The "great intrepidity" is tongue-in-cheek, I think—to be intrepid is to be daring and unconcerned with danger. So on the literal level, Darcy is being very daring in revealing his (low-grade at this point) attraction to Elizabeth to Caroline, someone who will obviously be hostile to the idea and be petty and annoying about it. The tongue-in-cheek aspect is that this is all honestly pretty trivial at this point and the only danger at hand is Caroline being slightly shitty. I think it's later suggested that Darcy didn't realize at the time just how irritating this would be, so in terms of his consciousness of danger, the "daring" here is ... real as far as it goes, but the stakes are comically low for him.

#anon replies #respuestas #austen blogging #pride and prejudice #fitzwilliam darcy #caroline bingley #anghraine's meta #long post #jane austen

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in1-nutshell · 2 days

Note

Could you please do the old Predacon buddy meeting the Lost light more specifically ultra Magnus and the co-captains =]

Steel Mauler's going on a trip to the Lost Light!

Hope you enjoy!

Steel Mauler meeting Rodimus Prime, Megatron and Ultra Magnus

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

MTMTE

Rodimus

Steel Mauler looking at Rodimus.

“… Hi—”—Steel Mauler

“AAAAHHHHHHHH!”—Rodimus

“Calm down I’m not going to hurt you! OH MY PRIMUS YOU’RE ON FIRE!”—Steel Mauler

Rodimus refuses to admit that he screamed at Steel Mauler.

Steel Mauler is reminded a lot of Bumblebee and Smokescreen when seeing this young mech.

They are surprised to see that he is one of the Co-captains of this extremely large starship.

They haven’t seen one of those in eons.

Rodimus is one of the bots who give them the tour around the Lost Light.

He is a bit confused on why they seem a bit sentimental about some of the bots on board but understands when they say that in their universe, the war is still going on.

Steel Mauler nearly has a spark attack hearing that he was a Prime and is frantically asking what happened to Optimus.

They are floored to find out that the matrix thing works differently in this universe.

“Your Matrix really doesn’t work the same?”--Rodimus

“No, and truthfully, I am not entirely sure how my Matrix works.”—Steel Mauler

“I mean at least yours is still active.”--Rodimus

“Ha, you say it like yours is broken.”—Steel Mauler

“…”--Rodimus

“…Rodimus… this is the part where you say ‘sike’.”—Steel Mauler

“…”--Rodimus

“…Say sike right now.”—Steel Mauler

“Well…”--Rodimus

“WHO BROKE THE MATRIX!?”—Steel Mauler

Steel Mauler is not afraid to put Rodimus in his place with some rash decisions he makes along the way.

Yes, he’s the captain but someone needs to be the voice of reason when Magnus is trying to correct his grammar to distract him.

And who is not going to listen to a giant Predacon.

Megatron

“And this is Megatron—”--Rodimus

Steel Mauler pounces at the grey mech.

“OUR CO-CAPTAIN STEEL! HIS OUR OTHER CO-CAPTAIN!”--Rodimus

Steel Mauler looks at Rodimus puzzled.

“Who thought that was a good idea?”—Steel Mauler

“May you please get off—”--Megatron

Steel Mauler puts one of their wings on his face.

“You hush. Rodimus, explain.”—Steel Mauler

They are glad to see another good Megatron, at least this one’s going through redemption.

After that brief misunderstanding and explanation of Megatron’s case they find themselves stuck close to the mech.

Megatron thinks that they don’t trust him.

That’s not the case.

Steel Mauler wants to protect this older version of their friend.

“Protect me? Why would you want to do that? You don’t even know me.”--Megatron

Steel Mauler looks at him sadly.

“I knew a version of you. He was a good friend to me”—Steel Mauler

“That still doesn’t explain why?”--Megatron

“…Call it what you will Megatron. Maybe sympathy, or me wanting to fix something that can’t be fixed in my world. But I know what happens to highly classified Cons when they defect. Takes one to know one.”—Steel Mauler

Steel Mauler walks away leaving a stunned Megatron in their wake.

One of the few bots on board that is not afraid to call him a hypocrite when it comes to certain subject relating to organic life.

So many bots thought they were going to see Megatron go up against a Predacon that day.

Steel Mauler has been alive longer than all of their friends, they don’t give a rats aft.

Megatron unknowingly gets attached to the older Predacon the longer they stay on the ship.

Ultra Magnus

“And this is—”--Rodimus

“Ultra Magnus! It is an honor to meet you, well this version of you.”—Steel Mauler

Magnus looks at the Predacon in front of him.

Steel Mauler is just glad to see a familiar face.

“Rodimus why is there a Predacon on board?”--Magnus

“Brainstorm.”--Rodimus

“… why am I not surprised…”--Magnus

“Who’s Brainstorm?”—Steel Mauler

Magnus wants to put Brainstorm in the brig so badly but now he has to deal with a Predacon.

… An incredible well behaved and mannered Predacon.

…

New friend gained!

They even got Rodimus to turn in some of the paperwork on time!

Steel Mauler does tell him of his alternative back on earth and is glad to see him here too.

He’s not crying.

But the older Predacon does get sent to the med bay after they saw a hollow Magnus all grey.

Steel Mauler groggily wakes up in the med bay.

A green minibot is by their side.

“Umm, hello there.”—Steel Mauler

“Primus Steel Mauler, you gave us quite a fright when you fell on top of--.”--Minimus

“Why do you sound like Magnus?”—Steel Mauler

Time skip to load bearer explanation…

“Does that make any sense?”--Minimus

“Yes, in a way. But earlier you said I fell on someone, who did I fall on?”—Steel Mauler

Minimus points to one of the nearby med slabs.

Ratchet is scolding a very dented Drift for thinking he could single handedly catch a giant Predacon.

Now Steel Mauler is wondering if their Magnus is also a load bearer…

They are not afraid to call Magnus on being too up tight with the rules around the ship.

Magnus does take in what Steel Mauler says and does reflect on it.

He trusts the Predacon’s judgment and lets loose some of the more harsher rules. Not completely though, he wasn’t mad.

Magnus saw Rodimus sneaking a Rodimus star to them for being the ‘Magnus Whisperer’.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte rodimus #mtmte megatron #mtmte ultra magnus x platonic reader #mtmte megatron x platonic reader

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its-avalon-08 · 1 day

Text

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p14

chapter 14: double agent

series masterlist

avaspeaks - im so so so so so sorry i havent updated this series in so long. requests are taking up so much time! here you go anyway, pt14!

Y/N and Nico sat in the quiet comfort of her Miami apartment, the city lights twinkling outside the window. The post-race buzz had faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. They'd been reminiscing about their childhood, sharing stories of pranks pulled on unsuspecting neighbors and the countless races they'd staged down their suburban street.

Nico had a smile on his face, a shadow flickering across his features. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. "Nico," she began, her voice hesitant, "there's something I need to ask."

Nico met her gaze, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features. "What is it, Y/N?"

"Lewis," she started, then took a deep breath. "Do you… do you ever think about fixing things with him?"

Nico's smile vanished. The question hung heavy in the air, a silent echo of years of unspoken tension. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and Y/N sensed the turmoil simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"Lewis," he finally choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I see him, Y/N… every time I hear his name, it's like a punch to the gut. We were… we were more than teammates. We were friends. Brothers, almost."

He paused, his gaze averted, lost in the memories that flooded back. "The rivalry… it consumed us, Y/N. It poisoned everything. We pushed each other to our limits, yes, but at what cost? We lost each other in the process."

Tears welled up in his eyes, his voice cracking with raw emotion. Y/N's heart ached for him. The rivalry everyone else saw as thrilling competition, she witnessed firsthand as a slow, agonizing erosion of a once strong bond.

Without a word, she reached out and squeezed his hand, her touch a silent display of understanding and support. "I know, Nico. I know."

He leaned into her touch, his voice a mere whisper. "We were so focused on winning, on proving ourselves, that we forgot what truly mattered. The joy of racing, the camaraderie… and most importantly, our friendship."

Y/N listened patiently, her presence a balm to his emotional wounds. As Nico spoke, the pain of the past seemed to seep out of him, a heavy weight finally lifted.

"Maybe… maybe one day," Nico said, wiping away a stray tear, "we can try to rebuild what was lost. But for now… for now, it still hurts too much."

Y/N offered him a comforting smile. "I understand, Nico. But at least now you've spoken it out loud. That's the first step, right?"

Nico nodded, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes. He squeezed her hand, a silent thank you for her unwavering support.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach, a newfound understanding bloomed between them. The path to reconciliation might be long and arduous, but the first seed had been sown. Perhaps, one day, the bitter rivalry that had driven a wedge between Lewis and Nico could be replaced by something stronger, something akin to the friendship they once shared.

switching sides (y/n is such a menace)

Stepping out of her room for a breath of fresh air, Y/N's eyes landed on a solitary figure silhouetted against the moonlit Miami skyline. It was Lewis, perched on the hotel balcony, a bottle of beer dangling precariously in his hand.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N walked over, the oversized Red Bull racing shirt hanging loosely on her frame, barely concealing the shorts underneath.

"Lewis?" she called out softly.

He looked up, startled, then a flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Y/N. Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"I could say the same to you," she countered, leaning against the railing. "Care if I join you?"

Lewis gestured to the empty space beside him. "Of course. Want a beer?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not tonight. Just wanted some company."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic hum of the city below providing a backdrop for their unspoken thoughts.

Finally, Lewis spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The race was… intense."

Y/N chuckled. "Understatement of the century, wouldn't you say?"

A smile played on his lips. "You pushed me hard, Y/N. More than anyone else on the grid."

Her cheeks flushed. "Just doing my job," she said, though a playful glint danced in her eyes.

The air crackled with a sudden awareness. Gone was the tension from earlier; in its place, a comfortable familiarity bloomed between them.

They reminisced about past races, shared stories, and laughed at each other's jokes. As the conversation flowed, a new vulnerability seemed to emerge in Lewis's voice.

Lewis smiled, but a shadow lingered in his eyes. "Speaking of friendships," Y/N continued, her voice dropping to a quieter tone, "do you… do you ever think about fixing things with Nico?"

The question hung heavy in the air, the weight of years of rivalry pressing down on them. Lewis's posture stiffened, his jaw clenching tight.

"Nico," he finally said, his voice raspy. "It's… complicated. The competition, the pressure… it drove a wedge between us. I don't even know where to begin."

Y/N listened intently as Lewis stared out at the moonlit cityscape, his voice low and strained. "It started subtly, Y/N. Back in the early days, when we were both hungry rookies, pushing each other made us better. We thrived on the competition."

He took a swig from his beer, the clink echoing in the quiet night. "But as the wins started piling up, the rivalry became… obsessive. Every race was a battle, not just between us and the other drivers, but between us two. We'd analyze each other's moves, scrutinize each other's tactics, it was relentless."

A bitter smile played on his lips. "We both started questioning every interaction, wondering if it was genuine or just another mind game. The trust, the camaraderie, it slowly eroded, replaced by suspicion and a constant need to prove ourselves as the better driver."

Y/N's heart ached for them. "Did you ever try… talking about it?"

Lewis shook his head, his gaze filled with regret. "Ego got in the way. We were both so focused on winning, so determined to dominate the sport, that admitting our insecurities felt… like a weakness."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "The irony, of course, is that the intense rivalry ended up weakening us both. We lost sight of the joy of racing, the thrill of the competition. All that remained was a bitter animosity."

Y/N leaned against the railing, her voice a soft murmur. "It sounds like you both let the competition consume you. Forgot what truly mattered."

Lewis nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "We did. And the worst part? The media loved it. They fueled the fire, turning our rivalry into a spectacle for the fans. It was a constant reminder of the friendship we were destroying, brick by agonizing brick."

He turned to Y/N, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Maybe… maybe if we had just stopped, talked about what was happening… things could have been different. We might have saved our friendship."

Y/N saw the pain flicker across his face, a flicker she recognized all too well from her own conversations with Nico.

"Maybe," she said, stepping closer to him, "maybe just a conversation. A chance to acknowledge what went wrong. It won't erase the past, but it could be a start."

Before Lewis could respond, Y/N surprised him by engulfing him in a tight hug. The unexpected gesture took his breath away, but then he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

A single tear escaped his eye, tracing a warm path down her cheek. In that moment, a million unspoken words hung between them - apologies, regrets, and a yearning for something that had been lost.

Y/N held him closer, her heart aching for the pain that had fractured their bond. "It's okay, Lewis," she whispered. "It's never too late to try."

They stood there for a long time, two souls seeking solace in the quiet embrace of the night. The moon cast a soft glow on them, a silent witness to the tentative steps towards a reconciliation that stretched far beyond the confines of a racetrack rivalry.

The future remained uncertain, but for the first time, a flicker of hope had ignited, a spark of redemption for the fractured relationships that had haunted them for far too long.

exclusive feature! here's a talk with y/n---

author - y/n why are you meddling with brocedes?

y/n - cause it gives you a banger chapter 15

author - fair enough, continue <3

y/n - you have no idea what is about to hit you! ly

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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norr1ssturni0lo · 17 hours

Text

Meet the brother

Jude Bellingham x Leclerc!reader

Charles Leclerc x sister!reader

Lando Norris x platonic!reader (not much)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: slight language, possibly wrongly translated French (I used google translate😭)

requested?: yes/no (here)

summary: McLaren reserve driver Y/N Leclerc, younger sister of the Leclerc brothers, gets her first chance to drive in F1 at the Imola GP and her brother finds out about her secret boyfriend, Real Madrid footballer, Jude Bellingham.

A/N: Hope you like this anon <3

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N Leclerc, the youngest Leclerc and current McLaren reserve driver for Oscar Piastri, was about to have her first race in an F1 car. Oscar was out with appendicitis (Carlos who?👀) so she had been brought in, much to some toxic male f1 fans disappointment due to ‘women not belonging in f1’. She stood in her driver room, her bottom half clad in the papaya coloured race suit and top half covered by her fireproofs, nerves taking over her body, despite having won the f2 championship last season and being comforted by her older - and favourite, not that she’d ever admit it - brother the night before.

*flashback*

Y/N was in Charles’ hotel room in Italy, pacing back and forth having just got off the phone with her boss, Zak. He told her that Oscar was unable to race and that she’d have to race in his place.

“Charles, what if I completely fuck it up?!” She shouted, her hands gripped her hair practically ripping it out.

“Y/N, you won’t fuck it up it’ll all be fine okay?” Charles said as he took a seat at the end of the bed, next to his girlfriend Alex, looking over at his distressed sister.

“je suis tellement nerveux (im so nervous)” She muttered, wishing her boyfriend of 3 months, footballer, Jude Bellingham, was here to hug and comfort her.

“tu es un pilote extraordinaire, tout ira bien, chérie (you’re an amazing driver, you’ll be fine sweetheart)” Alex said to the younger girl, Alex made her way over to her sister in law and gave her a quick hug and little Leo made his way over the girls, the mini dachshund wanting attention. Alex picked him up and held him in her arms.

“Y/N will be alright won’t she baby?” Alex whispered in a baby voice at the puppy, him responding in a soft bark and what looked like a little smile on his face as he looked at his human auntie.

“Thank you buddy” Y/N replied, chuckling a little bit at the puppy.

Charles made his way over to his girlfriend and little sister. He took his sister in his arms and rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

“Y/N je te promets que tout ira bien, je serai sur la piste avec toi et dans le paddock toute la journée si tu as besoin de moi Y/N/N, tu es champion de F2 pour une raison (Y/N i promise you will be fine, ill be on the track with you and in the paddock all day if you need me Y/N/N, you’re f2 champion for a reason)” Charles whispered to the Y/H/C girl and she nodded in her brothers arms.

She thanked the couple for calming her down slightly and left their hotel room and made her way to her own room and got ready for bed.

*end of flashback*

She’s brought out of her own world by the sound of a knock on her driver room door. She opens the door to find Lando who she’s known for a couple years and he’s been super supportive towards her, he’s almost like another brother to her.

“Hey kiddo, you alright?” He asked the younger woman as he walks into the driver room and sat down on the sofa.

“Hey Lando, yeah just a bit nervous that’s all” she replied to the curly haired driver “would be easier if Jude was here aswel” she added on. Lando nodded in understanding, he was one of the few people who knew about her and Jude and Y/N made Lando promise not to tell any of her brothers until she knew how to tell them.

“Why don’t you just try and give him a quick ring or something before we go on the track, we’ve still got at least an hour” Lando suggested, pointing to her phone that laid on the sofa next to him.

“Yeah I’ll give him a call, see if he answers” Y/N responds. Lando gave the younger woman a quick hug before he made his way out of her driver room to do his own thing before the race.

Y/N picked her phone up and unlocked it. She pressed on the contact for her loving boyfriend and pressed the FaceTime button, praying he’d answer. Much to the drivers dismay, he didn’t pick up, but he almost immediately sent her a message as to why he couldn’t pick up.

she put her phone back on the sofa and finished getting ready for the race.

Little did she know, Jude wasn’t actually at training, he was currently flying from Madrid to Italy to surprise her. He had planned it with lando last minute and he couldn’t wait to see his girl.

*time skip to the race*

Y/N was currently p6 just behind lando with a few laps to go, Max Verstappen in the lead as per usual and Charles was just behind checo in p4.

While Y/N was on the track, Jude was currently stood in the McLaren garage watching the race, his brown eyes focused on her car. The drivers had just finished the final lap and he was beaming with pride and happiness for his girl, he never had a single doubt about her.

“Y/N congratulations on your first f1 race! That’s p6, p6!” Y/N heard her race engineer, Lauren, speak through her ear piece, Y/N let out a little cheer and replied “thank you, we did great” to which Lauren agreed and Y/N drove her car over to parc fermé (a/n: I think that’s how it happens I’m not 100% sure😅) and she got out the car and made her way over Lando who had just got out of his car he gave her a quick well done hug.

“You did great kid” he complimented the woman next to him.

“You did great too lan” she replied as she reciprocated the hug.

The pair made their way over to the garage where they were met with words of congratulations and pats on the back. Andrea made his way over to the drivers with a pleased look on his face. He spoke with Lando first and after they finished talking, Lando leaves the conversation and makes his way to his driver room to freshen up. Andrea turned his focus onto the female in front of him.

“Well done Y/N you had an amazing race you should be proud of yourself, we all are, me and Zak especially” the older man praised with a smile on his face that the young driver copied.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to race for McLaren and I’m proud of myself too” she replied, smiling at Andrea.

“Good you should be. Now, go to your driver room, there may or may not be something waiting for you” Andrea spoke cryptically. She nodded slightly, a bit confused and she made her way to her driver room.

She opened the door and the sight before her made her smile grow even bigger. Her boyfriend stood there with a giant smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers for her. She immediately ran to him and threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Jude! What are you doing here? You said you had training” Y/N asked the footballer, her words muffled in his neck.

“I never had training today silly, I was allowed to have it off so I could come see you. You did amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” He grinned down at his girlfriend. She took the flowers from him and thanked him by pressing a loving kiss to his lips which he reciprocated.

They got interrupted by a knock on her door and the sound of her brothers voice.

“Y/N are you in here? Lando told me you would be” Charles said as he opened the door, only to be met with the sight of his little sister with a man he didn’t recognise and his sister placing a bouquet of flowers on the sofa.

“Y/N qui est-ce? (Y/N who is this?)” Charles asked, confusion evident on the Monegasques face.

“avant de répondre, s'il te plaît, ne le dis pas à Arthur ou Lorenzo et reste calme (before I answer, please do not tell Arthur or Lorenzo and stay calm)” the girl replied. Charles hesitantly nodded before signalling for her to carry on talking.

“Charles, this is Jude, my boyfriend, Jude this is one of my older brothers, Charles” Y/N introduced them to one another.

“You have more older brothers?!” Jude asked, freaked out, Y/N let out a little laugh at her boyfriend.

“Jude, they’re fine, they’re all bark no bite, especially Charles here. He’s a big softie” she teased, looking at her older brother, who was currently staring at Jude suspiciously.

“What are your intentions with Y/N here?” Charles asked as he loosely wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, she rolled her eyes slightly at his protective nature.

“Charles, I promise I have every good intention, I would never hurt her, I flew out from Madrid just to watch her first f1 race. I love her.” Jude replied to Charles. Charles stared at him suspiciously, then took his arm from around Y/N’s shoulder, and smiled at Jude as he held his hand out to him, which Jude shook as he smiled back at Charles, feeling relief take over his body. The boys let the handshake go as Charles spoke

“Welcome to the family buddy, just know Arthur and Lorenzo will try and interrogate you, dont let them scare you they’re all bark and no bite like she said” Charles stated with a little chuckle “we’re just protective of Y/N, even more so since our father passed.” Charles added on.

“That’s understandable, I’d be protective too if I had a little sister.” Jude replied.

“Do you have any siblings?” Charles asked the taller man. Y/N stood looking amused at the height difference between her boyfriend and brother as the boys conversed.

“One younger brother that’s it” Jude replied to Charles. Suddenly, Charles’ eyes filled with mischief as he whispered to jude, but still loud enough for Y/N to still hear what he’s saying.

“When Y/N was younger, she came running to me crying because she crus-“ he got cut off by his sister’s hand slapping over his mouth to stop him from finishing the embarrassing story.

“Don’t even think about telling him that story Charles” she warned Charles, half joking half serious, it was a pretty embarrassing moment of her life from when she was 5 years old and cried over accidentally crushing a snail. The boys just laughed at her flushed cheeks.

“I’m going to have a quick shower, you two can wait in here if you want. No more story telling Leclerc!” Y/N pointed at her brother, the trio laughing, knowing that as soon as she was in the bathroom and couldn’t hear them, he will finish the story he was telling Jude before she stopped him.

“We’ll wait here babe, Get to know eachother” Jude replied to his girlfriend, she nodded and made her way into the small bathroom in her driver room and she closed the door behind her and smiled as she heard two of her favourite men getting along and laughing together. She turned on the shower and got herself ready to hop in the shower before going back to the hotel for the night.

#f1 #formula 1 #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude x you #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagines #Jude bellingham fluff #mclaren #lando norris #charles leclerc #tumblr fyp

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green-alm0nd · 3 days

Note

Hey hey! Could you do platonic headcanons with TBB where the reader reveals that she’s pregnant and they’ll be “uncles” after the events of the finale? Keep up the great work <3

[The Bad Batch x fem!reader (Headcanons)]: Platonic uncles

----

Summary:

After the events of the finale, you find out you're pregnant and you decide to tell your friends that fought hundreds of battles alongside you.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: none really, just fluff and Crosshair being a bit of an idiot.

Enjoy!

I hope you like it Anon :p!

----

HUNTER:

Already knew because of his enhanced senses.

He could probably feel all the changes your body was going through.

He's really happy to see you happy.

Kinda protective over you throughout the entire 9 months.

Like yeah he knows you can protect yourself since you've fought alongside his brothers but he can't help but become just a tad bit protective.

When the kid grows up, he's probably going to teach him how to hear noises by concentrating (even though it's not as good as his enhanced senses).

One time he lost his vibroblade and found your kid with it.

You almost killed Hunter when that happened.

Overall, he's a good uncle and a very nice friend when he's around the kid.

ECHO:

Actually surprised when you told him you were pregnant.

Like Hunter, he became slightly protective of you.

A bit reluctant when you introduced your significant other.

But if you trust them he trusts them too.

Best. Uncle. Ever.

Lets your kid play with his scomp link.

Echo is the type of uncle to tell your kids his story. From the Domino squad to him joining the Bad Batch to him joining the Rebellion.

Probably plays pirates with your kid because they told Echo he looked like a pirate because of his hand.

Overall: a cool uncle, probably a bit grumpy, but still a cool uncle.

WRECKER:

Super excited to have a mini-you running around Pabu.

When you actually told him he did not understand.

However, after a session of Tech's-info-dump, he got the idea.

I have a headcanon that he is a very nice uncle.

He will hide every single object from war so that the baby doesn't accidentally hurt themselves.

Actually tried to learn how to cook to make your kid Mantell mix. Spoiler: it goes wrong.

Will make shenanigans with your kid.

Overall, Wrecker is probably the most chaotic uncle of the entire galaxy.

TECH:

"Oh. Well, congratulations." Were his only words.

He is probably the least surprised out of the entire Batch.

Reminds you to take care of yourself.

Definitely keeps track of EVERYTHING.

He really cares for your safety and the safety of your kid.

Of course, he'd definitely be a good uncle.

I think Tech would be the uncle that-knows-it-all since he really is a walking Wookiepedia man.

Whenever he is alone with the kid, we will RAMBLE. Even though the kid will not understand, he will ramble until he needs to catch some air.

Overall: Human dictionary uncle (I love him for that)

CROSSHAIR:

Will act pissed, but he's actually proud that you made a life for yourself after everything you went through.

Not surprised at all when you told him. He just shrugged.

And then he joked about it saying that 'If he couldn't handle you, he couldn't handle a mini, more hyperactive version of you'.

He learnt how to sew to fix Wrecker's tooka bear and give it to your kid.

You will find it endearing but he will deny it nonetheless because he does not like people seeing his sweet-side.

He's surprisingly good at calming the kid down for some reason you can't really figure out.

Not really protective because he knows you can take care of yourself. But, that doesn't mean he won't keep an eye on you some days.

When the kid grows up, he will NOT show them his rifles because he knows the risks and he knows that you will probably kill him for showing weapons at a six year-old.

Overall: he's the type of uncle that will disappear for ten months and then come back and act like nothing happened. But he's still a nice uncle.

----

Finals start this week :')

I hope you enjoyed your request anon!

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #star wars tbb #bad batch hunter #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb tech x reader #tbb #hunter the bad batch #echo x reader #echo tbb x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #crosshair bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x reader #the bad batch headcanons

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bookishdaze · 1 day

Text

Here's why a potential "love story" between Mae and Noa, whether explicit or simply implied, may not be such a terrible idea.

Why? Because Shakespeare told me so, that's why.

"When in doubt, it's from Shakespeare....or the Bible." At least according to a book I had to read for high school, lol.

The biblical references in Caesar's trilogy have been pointed out multiple times already, and these movies have also been described as Shakespearean tragedies. So I thought, 'ok, what kind of Shakespearean tragedy will we have this time around?'

I'm first gonna start off with Hamlet in the Caesar trilogy. I'm also gonna mention other popular movies that are based on Shakespeare's plays. Not necessarily because it's concrete proof that this is what will happen in future POTA movies. This is me simply picking up certain storytelling beats and patterns I've noticed in some of my favorite movies.

It's not 100% the same, but there are some similarities. Also, this isn't anything new. Many have pointed this out before, but I love talking about this stuff!

The Lion King, Black Panther, and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes are loosely based on Hamlet. A king or rightful heir is killed. Usually by an evil uncle, cousin, or family member. For some reason this always results in them falling off a very high cliff.

Everyone thinks they're dead, the evil relative takes power, and everything kinda sucks. There is not enough food in the Pride Lands under Scar's rule. Killmonger burns the heart-shaped herbs. Koba leads the apes to war against the humans.

The rightful ruler spends time in exile, recovering from their wounds and trauma. They might even get a visit or have a recollection of their dead father.

Then the rightful ruler comes back from the dead, challenges the usurper, and regains their rightful place upon the throne.

Now lets take a look at their sequels.

The Lion King 2 and Wakanda Forever share some similarities. They both follow another one of Shakespeare's popular plays, Romeo and Juliet.

Like the Montagues and Capulets, we have two rival kingdoms in both movies. We got the Pridelanders and the Outsiders. We also got the Wakandans and Talokanils.

The two heirs/rulers from both kingdoms meet. They hate and don't trust each other at first, but then they start to have compassion for the other. In Kiara and Kovu's case, they fall in love. Namor and Shuri don't fall in love, but after Namor shows her his underwater kingdom and what he has to protect, she softens and begins to understand him more. (They even got the whole Hades and Persephone thing going on, who are a couple in Greek mythology, by the way).

There are losses on both sides. Kovu's brother was killed while going after Simba. One of Namor's people was killed when Shuri was rescued by Nakia, and Shuri's mother, Queen Ramonda, died after Namor's attack on Wakanda. (Starts nervously eyeing Anaya here...)

These losses make things worse, by the way.

In the end, both pairs are able to bring the fighting between their people to a stop. The Outsiders are welcomed into Simba's pride. The Wakandans and Talokanils stop fighting after seeing their leaders return together.

Maybe something similar like this will happen with Noa and Mae. While I'm all for a good romance, it may end up being more like Namor and Shuri's case. There's something there. The tropes are present, but they don't fall in love. (At least not yet. Please Ryan Coogler, give me Nashuri endgame in Black Panther 3, hehe).

This is just a theory, by the way. This doesn't have to happen, but I just think it'd be neat. There would be differences though. What those differences would be, idk, but whatever happens in the next one, I can't wait!

"But but.... aren't you forgetting something?"

What's that?

"Don't they...ya know...both die at the end?"

Besides, they don't have to die. Things can be a little more hopeful for our two heroes 🙈

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hamcakevaletguy · 2 days

Text

My thoughts on the Damien situation, from the POV of someone who’s relatively uninvolved with posting on social media:

As a newer fan of Smosh myself (I watched some videos in 2012, but haven’t really kept up since, and only started regularly watching the last year or so), I went through the backlog of content that they have because I enjoyed their more recent videos. Zayna, a newer Palestinian fan, did the same and found this joke in an old TNTL disappointing and wanted him to address it firsthand and make his stance clear.

For anyone saying Damien has already made it clear that he is in support of Palestine: it’s not a given that the fan who brought up the clip would have already known about Damien’s stance on Palestine. Yes, he’s talked about it in a couple of his streams and posted Insta stories about it, but a newer fan of Smosh, not necessarily Damien himself, wouldn’t know about those unless they were looking for it because they are:

temporary (IG stories only have a lifespan of 24 hours unless you take screenshots) or

a few minutes hidden under several hours of game streams on a separate platform (he talked about Palestine several months ago and has streamed a lot since, unless you know the specific Twitch stream and the timestamp when he talked about it or had clips of it, most casual fans wouldn’t know either)

In his defense, Damien himself has recently said that more fandom stuff has reached his timeline than he would like, so maybe he thinks more people know about his activism because of that. However, even if Zayna did know, wanting a straightforward statement apologizing for the insensitive joke (because bringing up the "Israeli-Palestinian conflict" [as it was called back in 2019, not accurate to what has been going on for 70+ years and counting, which is an ethnic cleansing] for shock value, as he himself said, is insensitive) is not an unreasonable request.

More under the cut

When all you have is 240 characters per reply, the things that you do choose to say matter even more. When you parse out everything in Damien's replies, he doesn't come out looking too good. Yes, he did apologize for the original joke. In his replies, he said:

using it as shock value was in poor taste and naive of him,

it was in poor taste back in 2019 and he wouldn't make it now

(in response to his first couple of replies) he is sorry for reacting in frustration and he'll learn from it,

and, in his final reply, his parting words were "With all my heart, I hope for safety for your loved ones. Be well."

However, he also says and does things that undermine his apology in the same replies:

questioning why the clip was brought up in the first place, as if bringing up old content wasn't something fans regularly do with things they're interested about and as if it's not still a public video fans can easily find,

bringing up that the fan in question had 19K followers, a fraction of the followers he has as a public figure,

saying that this conversation could have been done in private, as if an initial DM request wouldn't be buried in his other requests as a public figure, and as if he doesn't have the capability to start a DM himself to clarify things after the initial reply/post,

saying that the original tweets tagging him should have been deleted after his first response when he never asked for that, and just assumed it would happen for some reason,

deleting his replies a couple of hours later,

and blocking Zayna and several others who were only interacting with Damien through quote tweets (I'm not sure how quote tweets work, do they notify the OP?), some who don't even say anything remotely critical of him - in his defense, blocking is not inherently a bad thing, it just means that he doesn't want any further interactions from them for whatever reason. However, silencing any Palestinian voice isn't good, to say the least.

Damien has always been a proponent of “trying to understand and see from different perspectives” so his response here surprised me, personally. I get that he has a fear of being misunderstood, but jumping to the conclusion that the other party is purposefully trying to be incendiary is the opposite of that.

I'm not going to try to make excuses for him. He knows better. He's been a content creator for years. He knows he has more influence than any normal fan would. His autism is not a part of this conversation either. Mental illness is an explanation for behavior, it doesn't absolve you of the consequences of it. If you're citing Damien's autism as an excuse for his behavior, you have to also account for Zayna's autism.

People are also bringing up the possibility of Damien getting death threats as a result of this, which we have no proof of and won't have proof of unless Damien himself decides to disclose that. He has only stated that he is taking a social media break, which has been a long time coming, not necessarily only because of this, because he has been busy and tired in recent months. What we do know has happened is that Zayna has received death threats (weird of people to want the death of a Palestinian when the original argument they're defending Damien for is that he is in support of Palestinian liberation).

This isn’t an issue of cancel culture, it’s an issue of accountability and frankly, hero worship of Damien in the part of people attacking Zayna and other people on Twitter.

When the only people who had spoken about their support of Palestine in their own words, however briefly, are two or three cast members, some people are naturally going to put them on pedestals. This hero worship of Damien has been exacerbated by his image as the most politically correct member of Smosh, and Smosh’s (until recently) silence about the issue.

While we're at it, for people saying Smosh's sudden outward support for Palestine and joining Creators for Palestine is in response to backlash about Damien, or only in response to the block list going around:

It's only been a few days since the Damien's whole ordeal. Smosh is not that fast, and historically, their response to backlash would have been either complete radio silence or unlisting or privating the TNTL that the clip is from, combined with silence.

I’m sure Shayne, Ian and Courtney have been working on it for more than a few days, based on their liked posts, to get everything straightened out with the organization themselves and adding their names to the list of creators.

People have been asking for Smosh to be more public about their views on Palestine. Some of the cast members have said their piece on their personal social media, but their views could have changed. Those posts were made shortly after the events of October 7 brought even more media attention on Palestine and the Gaza Strip, which was not necessarily in favor of Palestine because of the effects of U.S. propaganda. It's been several months since then and people have a lot more information now, and more clarity.

Up until now, the only indication of Palestinian support not from social media is a brief statement from Ian who said something along the lines of "travel watermelon", while they were talking about their rejected roasts during Anthony's Funeral After Show in December, which are codewords that were used in TikTok for Free Palestine. However, this is heavily censored, behind a paywall, and temporary, because of the nature of their live shows. This support of CFP is the bare minimum of what Smosh could do, but the bare minimum is more than they were doing before.

They listed Smosh as the name under their $15,000 donation to CFP, not just Shayne, Courtney and Ian, which could be intentional, referring to Smosh as a whole company, or just referring to the three that have posted about it as a collective. Unless Smosh makes a full statement about it, themselves, it's still up in the air.

The timing of it is unfortunate. Damien has been silent about it so far, making his original posts about Palestine seem performative to some. However, it’s only been a few hours and he is on a social media break. The only thing he has briefly gone back online for is to promote something he's doing with Nintendo, which he could have been contractually obligated to do. He may or may not say something when he fully comes back from his social media break, but for now, that's everything we know. People can make their own conclusions based on all of this.

I am being very intentional with every single word I say on here, as to not be misconstrued in any way, however, if I missed anything or anyone else has anything to add (constructively, like images of either the actual conversation had by Damien and Zayna, or the cast and crew's support of Palestine prior to CFP, not outright anger and disagreement), please do. If anyone has any genuine questions about the situation, please feel free to message me directly and not bring it into this post, which is supposed to be a civil discussion surrounding more facts and events, less speculation. If I feel those questions have relevant points to add on here, I will add on in reblogs.

#damien haas #free palestine #smosh discourse #smosh

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