#if you know what i mean (if you grew on the sort of media I grew up on)

[ivyithink]

downsides to discussing the conditions of the treaty while taking a walk outside

this is once again a piece for cringetober 2023 (some info about it under the cut on this post!)

this prompt: day 9 — crossover ship/rarepair!

I’m not particularly into crossover ships, but i do have more than a dozen rarepairs, at least, and I obviously wanted to draw them all, BUT… this mental image compelled me… as with most of my tlk pieces at this point, they are michela’s (@kingslionheart) fault in some way, shape or form. your one tag is to be blamed for this, i hope you are happy about giving me even more brainworms about tlk…

[13eyond13]

aw i wanted to read house in the cerulean sea 🤧 is it bad? or to each their own?

It's definitely a matter of taste I think! It depends on what you like in a story. For me I found it a bit corny and shallow and overly preachy, but obviously my friend who picked it absolutely loved it, so it's a subjective thing. We have pretty contrasting tastes most of the time anyway it seems. She LOVES fantasy and hates anything set in mundane reality or that's depressing and dark, and I think my favourite book we read in the club was also her least favourite one too hahaha

[propertyofwicked]

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”

[koolades-world]

HEYY GIRLIEE soo I got this idea on my mind cuz it's 11 pm and I randomly got energy so I was like thinking if you could make something like how the Brothers would treat or recognize signs of fem.MC WHO grew up Poor like not eating much too en sure the rest Got food or getting super excited when they get something as Simple as a birthday cake or more then 2 or expensive presents or being extra care full with spending money while for getting that if they asked for something from the Brothers theyd happily get it ( pardon my grammar enflish is my Third language😭) -from the awesome and amazing khaos

HEYYY KHAOS!!! hope you've been well!!! good to hear from you!

sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Mc who grew up poor

Lucifer

after hearing you’d never had an extravagant birthday party, he makes it his mission to make it happen

after all, everyone deserves at least one big bash, especially you. you’ve done so much for him and his family and it means so much to him

he talks with barbatos about make a huge cake in your favorite flavor and diavolo about using one of the many ballrooms in the palace

needless to say, he’s going all out to make you happy and see you smile

Mammon

he was already determined to spoil you

however, now he's bound to accidently send you into a coma with the amount of gifts he's throwing at you

you're his best girl!! you only deserve the best things

if you want him to tone it down, he will, but that won't stop him from buying little things that reminds him of you <3

Levi

at first he was confused about how you looked shocked every time he spoke about a crazy purchase he'd made

once you tell him why though, he's going to get you anything media related that you want

into a new manga? he'll get you your own set. really into a specific fandom? the next time they drop merch he's getting everything related to your fav

he always goes out of his way to make sure you feel seen

Satan

the two of you already tried to make an effort to do at least monthly outings together

but he noticed you always try to order the least expensive item on the menu at cafes, so next time, he orders in advance what he knows you’d really enjoy

seeing your face light up was payment enough for him

after that, you have weekly outings where he spoils you and he always makes sure you’re having a fun time

Asmo

besides mammon, he’s the king of lavish living

he’d been showering you in all sorts of expensive products for your face, hair and otherwise

if he’s being a little much, just let him know since he can always find products that you like more

the only thing he won’t compromise on is your spa days together since it’s one of his ways of letting you know he cares

Beel

he’s going to make sure your plate is always full

you’ll never run out of your favorite snacks under his watch

sharing food is his love language

if he could give you the world, he would

Belphie

he’s always there to help you unwind and destress

(even if his brothers are the source of the headache)

he wants you to get amazing rest every night

so, without you asking, he buys the nicest pillow and sheet set money can buy and surprises you with it!

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[punkpandapatrixk]

❤️‍🩹I Just Want to be Loved ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We attract terrible loves for various reasons; so many lessons; but now sorrow has got to lessen. Let’s reveal patterns by exhuming roots. We’ve got to stop this cycle of disappointments. Done being made to feel as if we’re hard to love.

We’re not hard to love. Many of us were simply denied love, warmth and affection as we were growing up… Don’t know how to love self; don’t know how to love others; basically don’t know how to even receive Love… Who’s to blame now?

Why the hell were so many children denied love, warmth, affection…?

What are you going to do with yourself when you were denied love, warmth and affection as you were growing up?

☆♪°・.

‘The child who isn’t embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.’ – an African proverb

People denied warmth and affection tend to fall into a desperate loop of fishing for attention as a result of love-deficiency, right? Some learn to lick love off a knife; some pursue success (whatever that means) all too frantically; some…shoot complete strangers in broad daylight; and some who ain’t got the guts to murder complete strangers in public places go instead for antagonising strangers on social media… Gosh, that is desperate.

But you know what, not all hope is lost because there’s still plenty of us who are blessed with this incredibly RARE thing called self-awareness. There are plenty of us who will take our traumas to the graveyard than pass them down the next generations.

You, don’t deserve to have your sanity and your Life ruined by some psychos who didn’t know how to love you. Reclaim lost pieces of yourself by understanding THREE Houses in your natal chart, babe:

4th House: your roots; tells you what was lacking in your home; explains your erratic 10th House ambitions

8th House: your marriage or your desire for a bond like it; this the House where trauma manifests itself in full spectrum

11th House: your wish fulfilment; where you connect with people who support your visions; breeds a healthy sense of connection, even community

SONG: Emptiness by BoA

MOVIE: Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Because I Can’t Even Trust Myself

VIBE: Trust by Hamasaki Ayumi

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Pentacles Rx

It’s clear your childhood didn’t offer a sense of stability or security—the physical kind that children usually need. It could be that a grownup left early or it could be that you moved around a lot, so you easily lost contact with new friends you’d just made. In essence, it feels like you grew up feeling ‘everything disappears eventually; everyone leaves eventually’.

Some of you might’ve grown up not having a lot of material resources, but for the majority of you tuning into this Pile, it was more a feeling of a lack of warmth. For children, the pain of neglect and a lack of emotional connection do really affect our physical health more severely. You might’ve grown up poor and sickly due to all the grownups around you being inattentive, unaffectionate, and just…unreliable at best.

Because of this awareness, from a young age you realised you would have to do everything yourself. You wanted to grow up quickly and do your own things your own ways. It’s not like you had to grow up fast, you wanted to grow up fast to have your freedom and power! It was…hard to trust adults. It was hard to trust the world at large.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 8 of Pentacles

On the path of growing up, I think you became a hard worker of sort? This is very nuanced though—there are layers to your developing yourself to become a hardworking person. In many ways, you grew up responsible because you didn’t want to become like the adults who had disappointed you. But since this sense of ‘responsibility’ is a product of neglect and trauma…this is coming off as your feeling responsible for everything. Everything!

Some of you could’ve been too hard on yourself, expecting way too much for your age. You’ve felt like you’re always the one with everything to prove. It’s hard living like that. It feels like you’ve put so much effort into keeping everything together, and yet, nobody sees how much you care. Nobody truly understands the fear in your mind and pain you carry in your heart.

In matters of relationship, you cling extra hard to friends or lovers, too; because deep down you’re afraid of losing things and people, again and again. This unhealthy attachment—and to some extent, controlling behaviour—is truly your wounded inner child attempting frantically to keep your Reality from falling apart…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Cups

I’m very sure that at some point in Life, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are going to kick in and meddle with your Earthly business. For some people, it’s possible you could lose contact with everybody you’ve ever known in Life and go into a hermit mode to find yourself again. For some, it could be that your whole Life is simply flipped, without necessarily losing key people in your Life, for you to look at Life and human connections from a very different point of view.

It’s going to be hard, of course. Emotionally, it could be devastating. Themes of abandonment and betrayal are big in your incarnation. But you know, ultimately, all of these challenges serve to remind you that the Cup of Love and Affection you’ve been looking for has always been right inside of you. You’ve had a bitter time with a lot of people because deep down you couldn’t trust them. You couldn’t trust other people’s loyalty because you didn’t even believe that you’re worthy of that Love and Loyalty you yearn for.

Your Spirit Guides are saying, that although at some point in Life things are going to get really tough, know that when you’ve graduated those lessons, you’re going to be rewarded with the most beautiful Soulmate-shit friendships, familyship and relationship. Truth be told, part of your Soul’s scenario in this incarnation is to find your Soul Tribe; and find your Tribe you shall~

A L O N E🔻💗

ALL of you – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Misled by My Own Compassion

VIBE: Cry Me A River by Julie London

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Knight of Cups

It’s very likely your 4th House is in a Water sign, but if not, you’re still very much a Water-y person; perhaps your Ascendant or Moon is in a Water sign, or that you have Neptune/Moon near/in your 4th, 7th or 11th House. All of this generally makes you a deeply compassionate person. No matter what outer appearances give, you strive to look deeper into a person’s Soul. You have so much empathy and you want to believe in the good of people.

Alas! This rotten world doesn’t make it too easy. This world is not a world where kindness and compassion are truly rewarded, if we don’t learn to be a tad cruel ourselves. You’re not in the wrong for being so genuinely good and compassionate; it’s this world that’s the wrong world. You know that? Therefore, it is paramount you learn to be a bitchilante! But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In spite of this PAC’s intro, I sense the majority of you tuning into this Pile actually grew up quite well. Many of you actually grew up in loving homes and that’s why it’s been quite challenging for you to grapple with the realness of the ugliness of the world outside of your loving home. Really…people in the real world…are monsters! And you were taken aback!

But some of you instead most likely grew up in chaotic, battlefield-esque homes and that’s why you’ve striven to be so good to a point of detriment.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 0 The Fool Rx

Be that as it may, you being you… Well, you do put in the effort to try and understand what makes monsters the way that they are, right? It’s all good and wonderful, until you get yourself in deep trouble where nobody can save you but your own monstrosity. Depending on your age when reading this, this could be something that’s happened in the past or will happen; where you will be forced to grow up in the sense of seeing the world as it is and get firm with assholes!

Dr Jordan Peterson has this gold shit to summarise this spiritual lesson you will be taking at some point in Life: ‘You should be a monster, an absolute monster, and then you should learn to control it.’ Well, that’s male speech. In female speech, we just say: ‘you gotta grow up and be a bitchilante!’

Be a bitch only to those who deserve it. How would you protect yourself from monsters if you don’t have the strength to fight them at their own game, darling? If you’re harmless, weak as a fawn, if anything, the real monsters in the world are going to toy with your sanity: ‘I saw my “crazy” side once and decided I wouldn’t be involved with anyone that would take me out of my peace like that ever again.’

Be a bitchilante. That whole concept of ‘good, harmless, love and light, positivity-only’ bullshit was put out there not to really make you good but to weaken you against the truly monstrous ones. WAKE UP, BITCH!

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Pentacles

So? So what if you’re selective with your affection? Not everybody deserves your compassion. That’s for sure. There are many people in the world and you can’t be nice to all of them. One at point or another, you’re gonna be a villain in someone’s story—so what? Everybody else is the main character of their own Stories; that, you can’t control.

Be careful that you’re not falling victim to your own narcissism in wanting to be praised in everybody’s Story, yeah? So then, pertaining to your 11th House, weirdly enough, your wish fulfilment is in the form of a psychological liberation from your own idea of yourself in the minds of others. I sense that if you’re East Asian this is gonna resonate much harder and louder LOL

Anyway, I want to assure you that once you’ve graduated from your spiritual lessons, you will be met with unique, courageous, rebellious weirdos who will be just as clear as you are about what it truly means to be a good person in a world that’s often very bad. How good should a person be to truly be considered a good person?

‘If I offended you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears eating chips and working on my tan.’ – Fuckology

A L O N E🔻💚

ALL of you – Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Success

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lights Out; I’m Out to Find Myself

VIBE: To. X by Taeyeon

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Cups Rx

I’ve to preface this Pile by saying this the pile that gets a little violent…

You were originally such a positive, happy-go-lucky kid, but quite early on, this world gave you so much darkness. So many reasons to be sad. It’s not been a very kind life, to be honest. Defo many of you have tragical placements here—your 4th or 5th House could start or end in Scorpio; have Lilith/Pluto/Chiron/Saturn there or in the sign of Cancer/Pisces; or it could be that your Venus/Moon is imprisoned in the 8th or 12th House and harshly aspected, too...

If your childhood has been violent or mightily confusing, it’s a group thing, OK? You can think like that. It’s not your fault. Know that practically everybody who has these harsh placements has gone through very similar things as you. So you’re really not the only one who’s failing—whatever that means. You’ve been gaslit a lot into believing there’s something wrong with you, but it was your environment that was just filled with totally terrible Human beings. That much I’d like to assure you.

It wasn’t natural how you were abused psychologically and emotionally. The people around you drew a parallel to Cinderella’s stepsisters in the Disney classic. It’s ridiculous like that. I think you grew up terribly lonely and created comfort characters in your head to console your sorrows? It’s very likely that your comfort characters were in actuality a mirror fragment of your Soul Family’s existence locked in your memory bank.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – XIV Temperance Rx

Life, unfortunately, isn’t a Disney movie. As a result of the psychological and emotional abuse you’ve endured in childhood, your friendships and relationships might’ve been quite turbulent, at times even violent. Juuust a small number of you could’ve dealt with being called a violent kid, or you could’ve struggled with anger management and have terrible tantrums. All of these have made human connections quite difficult to navigate.

It’s not like you want to be a nasty person, right? Many times, you couldn’t help the way you react/respond to what’s being said and unsaid because, somehow, there are many things that people do and say that trigger a trauma response in you. There’s a very difficult Mars thingy going on here. I think many of you resonating with this Pile have some difficult Mars (ruler of Scorpio) placements/aspects that affect the way you manifest human connections in your Life.

Speaking in terms of synastry, it could be that you’ve attracted a great deal of people whose Mars aspected badly in your natal chart—consequently triggering bad traumas and manifesting violent outbursts in your connections. Ultimately though, these negative experiences with other people could’ve enforced your belief about how unlovable you are, which, really, is a false belief…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 5 of Wands

It is a false Reality that you’re unlovable or unworthy of a healthy relationship. That bullshit was implanted in you through the creation of a harsh environment that caused you a great deal of rage. Of course, you’re accountable for how you behave towards other people, but your foundation was never quite healthy or peaceful or harmonious, so… How about we put it all behind us and focus on healing? After all, it’s not like the people you’ve had a beef with were completely innocent? XP

It's kinda selfish to think like that, but you can depend on your own discernment to distinguish who amongst the people you’ve hurt or had a beef with to apologise to. Remember: sometimes apologies only make you weaker and looking at the unique bullshit astrological placements you were born with… apologising to the wrong fucker would only get you gaslit even more! So, don’t. Don’t apologise for the distress you experienced under other people’s lack of support.

Burn that bridge and detach yourself from that old stinking world. With your sheer willpower, you have it in you to rebuild your own little world of love and peace. After all, those harsh placements you were born with, are you aware of just how much power they bestow you? These placements come with a lot of turbulences but once you graduate your first Saturn Return, they also give you a burst of power unlike any other!

Lights out. Not entertaining aenergies that seek to nip your power at the bud anymore. Burn, baby, burn strong! Burn the whole Tower and find yourself on new lands~!

A L O N E🔻💜

ALL of you – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Solitude

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[ironunderstands]

Yapping about why I love Aventio and what I feel makes it a great ship 

(If you hate it I urge you to read this, because you don’t have to agree with me, but I want you to get where Aventio shippers are coming from at least)

I’ve just really wanted to talk about why I love Aventio because the people do not get it like I do and GODDD ITS SO GOOD WHEN DONE CORRECTLY UGHHHHH

Also this is gonna be VERY stream of consciousness I do not have a plan besides dragging you through my brain so enjoy the ride.

I guess the best place to start is the fact that Aventurine and Ratio are my two favorite characters in the game. Like even if they have no interactions with each other ever and might as well be from different pieces of media I would ship them, because I like seeing characters I like interact and the fun police cannot catch me. That’s a really shallow personal reason though and I feel like the rest I have will be able to be appreciated by others.

GOD THE DYNAMIC IS SO GOOD RAAAAAA

Two emotional constipated dumbasses circling around each other like black holes trying desperately to deny and run from their feelings when they have both fallen hard. The lack of acknowledgement of feelings on both ends is TRAGIC and it makes me want to rip my eyes out in a good way, let’s start with Ratio.

Unfortunately my glorious king Ratio has been mischaracterized to hell and back but we will get to that (and the Incorrect Reasons Why People Hate Aventio) later. Instead I will go over his actual character; a deeply insecure, intelligent man who desperately wants the rest of the galaxy to come to the realizations he has long since stumbled upon, but has been so isolated from his peers from such a young age that he’s doomed to fail in literally every social interaction he has and be misunderstood by both the audience in universe and irl (the autistic coding isn’t helping him either).

Ratio is tragically misunderstood again, both in universe and by the audience, which is why it means so much that Aventurine Gets Him. Aventurine pushes his buttons, tears down that literal cold marble facade masking the deeply silly and caring man beneath (this man bathes with rubber duckies in the privacy of his own home 😭), and that scares the shit out of Ratio. People aren’t meant to see through him, Ratio acts rude not just because he believes it’s the best way to help people, and because he believes he himself is mundane and the conclusions they come to should be their own, not his.

No, it’s also because on some level Ratio is afraid to be vulnerable around people. As much as he pretends like it doesn’t affect him, Nous’s rejection has hurt and haunted Ratio for his entire life. And I do mean his entire life, even in high school he had already set up a strict routine for himself, something commented on by his teacher, Ratio has quite literally always been striving for some sort of perfection and the fact that he cannot achieve it kills him.

Moreover, the guy just grew up way too fast, he didn’t have time to develop social skills. We see it in that afformentioned relationship with his teacher, in which they recommend Ratio (who is again in high school) to be moved up to college level stuff and transferred due to his success. He has quite literally never been able to just relax in a environment of his peers, Ratio for some reason we don’t yet know has always been dedicated to constant improvement and that leaves no room for dealing with failure.

On some level, he knows this too, that he can never be perfect. Ratio is part of the Mundanites in the Intelligenica Guild for a reason, he doesn’t just see himself as mediocre because he believes everyone is and that’s ok, but also because he looks down on himself for being too mediocre for the Genius Society, being too mediocre for Nous’s acknowledgement, being too mediocre for anything.

Which is tragic because Ratio is very accomplished and he is very smart, and his character stories aren’t even told from his pov, but rather in the style of documentaries and letters (his professor) and other works on his well acclaimed life. We don’t ever get to see how Ratio really sees himself, just the tiny cracks in his marble facade that let the real man behind the character shine through.

Because that’s what he’s playing 90% of the time, a character. Whether it be at the Herta Space Station in which his real goal was to uproot the researchers blind worship of the Genius Society, or in Penacony in which he plays up the arrogant, narcissistic scholar both people in universe and irl make him out to be, both to serve a goal bigger than himself. 

Sincere moments from Ratio are RARE but god are they beautiful, his conversation from Screwllum in 1.6 and his note to Aventurine in 2.1 will forever haunt me in the best way possible. If you want to understand Ratio as a character, yes read his character stories, but just watch that damn scene with Screwllum it is phenomenal. He cares so much and is so, so bad at expressing it, he drives me nuts, Veritas Ratio the man you are. 

And the thing is, it seems like he’s always been playing a character and doesn’t know where the real him ends anymore so he just sticks to the way people perceive him a lot of the time. Like as a kid he was constantly striving to be the best so he missed a lot of necessary developmental shit, and as an adult he’s a celebrity so it’s hard for him to attach himself to others anyways because society and his students will hound him for it.

And then you throw Aventurine into the mix, and oh boy does shit get interesting.

Veritas Ratio, perfect “unfeeling” Veritas Ratio and the one person who gets him well enough to push all his buttons and expose the vulnerable underbelly he thought he hid so well. On a fundamental level, Ratio understands this, which is why he doesn’t bother with the alabaster head, as pretending the real him is just as unfeeling and uncaring is easier.

So he brushes off Aventurine’s jests as if they are an insult to his very existence, he can’t look in Aventurine’s eyes when he “betrays” him because his poker face would break, he leaves as soon as he’s done talking because lingering would allow the weight of their conversations to sink in. Part of it is because for pretty much all of Penacony, up until the note Ratio gives him, Ratio is acting, trying to play up the role of the arrogant, unfeeling scholar to make Sunday buy the betrayal plan, because to Sunday this behavior is signs of a bad relationship between the two (honestly the fact that the audience also interpreted it this way makes me mad like did yall seriously not pay attention, but also happy because if even the players were fooled that means Sunday buying it is believable). 

However, even if it feeds into his insecurities, Aventurine knows that false facade and loves tearing it down. It’s very telling that the second time we see Ratio really freak out (the first being at Herta Space Station) is at the suggestion that he came to narrate Aventurine’s demo not because of knowledge or respect for the show or whatever, but because he genuinely likes the guy. What makes it even better is that Aventurine is the one who suggested it, and already figured out the excuses Ratio was going to use to deny it. Ratio can fool everyone else in the galaxy, but he cannot fool Aventurine, and on a fundamental level that is what makes their dynamic work, because Ratio knows Aventurine in the exact same way.

Aventurine can shove away people who care about him, out of distrust and fear that they will leave him like his family did. He can believe he’s unloveable and a person so detestable that even the actions he performs in order to stay alive condemn him to hate himself as much as the rest of the galaxy hates him. But, Ratio doesn’t see him that way.

Aventurine doubts his intelligence, if he has really earned anything he’s done and in his voiceline about Ratio, doubting if Ratio even sees him as smart or worthy. However, Ratios voiceline about Aventurine is about how he believes Aventurine is smart and worthy, and that his doubt will be his downfall if he doesn’t come to the realization that he isn’t worthless. 

Ratio knows Aventurine’s one weakness, the one thing that could stop him; himself. That’s why he gives him the note urging him to stay alive and keep on living because ultimately Aventurine will only ever fail if he gives up. And The Note Is Enough, Aventurine walks into the event horizon of a black hole, confident he can return alive on the other side because someone cares about him, BECAUSE RATIO CARES ABOUT HIM, and wants him to live on even if Aventurine doesn’t feel that way towards himself.

In the metaphorical and literal manifestation of the meaningless of the universe, in the face of overwhelming nihility, Aventurine survives because someone loves him, and with that love he’s strong enough to brave even that. 

Even if they can’t admit it out loud, these two deeply, deeply care for one another and trust each other perhaps more than anyone else in the narrative. The betrayal plan would have never worked if there was not mutual trust, Ratio wouldn’t have gone to Penacony in the first place if he didn’t trust Aventurine, and Aventurine wouldn’t have asked him to come if he did not trust him. We don’t just see this trust between Aventurine and Ratio either, and Jade and Topaz both trust him with their cornerstones, but ultimately it’s Ratio who’s physically with him the whole time, risking his life alongside him for the sake of their plan. 

As much as people like to ignore it, lying to the Family members, to Sunday, is extremely dangerous and puts Ratio’s life in danger as much as it does Aventurine’s. Ratio is not an irrational person, he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t have faith Aventurine would succeed, he would not have done if he didn’t think he would return. They have absolutely faith in one another and it’s beautiful. 

Aventurine’s first constellation is named “Prisoner’s Dilemma” for a reason. A social experiment in which two prisoners are captured and separated, if they sell the other one out and remain silent, they go free but the other remains in jail for 20 years. If they both sell each other out, they get a sentence of 5 years. 

But if they both remain silent, trust the other, they even if they physically can’t communicate and don’t know what the other says, they get the best possible outcome, only one year in jail each. It requires a sacrifice on both ends, they both still have to go to jail, but only for a year, and only if they trust each other completely, as if the other sells them out they will be in jail for 20.

The prisoners dilemma relies completely on trust, and it’s the exact situation Aventurine and Ratio face in the Penacony quests. Aventurines doubts if Ratio’s betrayal was real or not, even if he set it up himself, and Ratio worries about Aventurines survival, if continuing this plan will end well. “You can’t expect a featherless bird to take flight” isn’t just Ratio chastising Sunday, he’s genuinely worried that this plan will put Aventurine at too much of a disadvantage to continue on. 

But they both trust each other, and if just like in the Dilemma neither come out completely unscathed (although it’s much worse on Aventurine’s end), they ultimately achieve their goal. 

God is it sweet and corny in the best way possible 

I want to kill this fandoms perception of stoic, emotionless Ratio because once people realize he’s actually the corniest mf ever is the day I sleep easy. He makes statues of himself doing Jojo poses, he plays chess versus himself, he named himself Veritas (truth), he loves rubber duckies, he literally sits in a bathtub couch, and Aventurine breaths and he gets flustered.

Ratio so deeply silly, chronically corny, it’s a crime he needs to be locked up someone stop him. 

And Aven brings that out of him. His teasing reveals the goofball trying so desperately to disguise himself as a serious scholar. Ratio is very smart of course, but that only makes his silliness better, as you watch this absolute genius of a man behave like a tsundere schoolgirl. 

It’s not like Aventurine is some paragon of seriousness either, he’s the one teasing Ratio, fucking around even in a serious mission. Yeah it’s partly because he wants Sunday to think he’s incompetent, but it’s also because Aventurine genuinely is having fun, enjoying himself before the serious part of the plan kicks in, and the meantime he does that by messing with Ratio.

Their dynamic of Aventurine messing with Ratio, and Ratio trying desperately to pretend like it doesn’t affect him is as hilarious and heartwarming as it is tragic, and that dichotomy is why I love them so much. It’s fun and it hurts so so much because their interactions being this flavor of silly leaves almost no room for the sincerity they both desperately need from one another. 

AND GOD I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. RATIO MENTAL BREAKDOWN SCENE PLEAASEEE LET HIS WALLS CRUMBLE PLEEEEAASEE PLEASE PELADE PLEASEEEE EPLES DOLS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 

They’ve gotten closer and closer and closer and soon something’s gonna snap because they are so close yet so distant and if something doesn’t change the tension is just gonna boil over AND I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. I need more Ratio scenes I need more interactions with him I need him with his guard down I need him to profess out loud that he cares about Aventurine I need him to break please he needs it, it would be so good for him. It doesn’t even have to be from Aventurine, just Ratio snapping and revealing the fucking mess he is under his facade and not being rejected by the people he cares about for it is enough.

I honestly doubt it will happen in the story though, as much as I want it to. Although Aventurine’s character demo somewhat changed my mind against this, I feel like hoyo is like “ok they get the vibe between these two we can move on” and the shippers are left to extrapolate how this relationship would go beyond what it is now. As much as I want a breakdown scene for Ratio in general, it probably wouldn’t happen in a while but devs if you are reading this PLEASEEEE. 

The only time Ratio ever gets slightly out of his element is with Aventurine but I need it to go further because god it would be interesting.

Well I’ve deemed that enough yapping about why I love Aventio (for now 😈) so let’s talk about why people hate the ship and why most of the reasons behind it a fucking stupid. (Massive disclaimer of course you can dislike it it’s just a lot of the “oh it’s a horrible ship and anyone who likes it sucks” shit isn’t grounded in reality in the slightest and I’m tired of the slander)

“Ratio was racist to Aventurine”

Now this is a spicy one because if this post was made in 2.0 I would 100% agree with you (during that time I shipped a non canon version of them in which that did not happen because how dare u do my boy like that hoyo). However 2.1 changed a lot and I mean a lot, and basically reframed the 2.0 quests for everyone.

Essentially, Ratio and Aventurine were both acting in that argument scene, making the things Ratio said to Aventurine not how he really sees him, and actively something Aventurine wanted him to say, so you cannot blame him for what he said. I’m not even joking or exaggerating, retrospectively it quite literally does not make sense if you view it in any other way, and honestly even with just the knowledge of 2.0 the scene doesn’t make sense if played straight, so let’s get to why.

a) Ratio and Racism do not mix fundamentally. Ratio is a person who believes that everyone deserves and education regardless of background, that it is a scholars duty to help others achieve that, and no matter who you are, you are capable of intelligence, learning and becoming the best version of yourself, and that those qualities are just limited to geniuses.

THIS AND RACISM DO NOT MIX. “Oh yeah education and improvement is possible for everyone except this specific group of people for some fucking reason!!” Like not only would this scene being serious contradict Ratios entire character, the man who believes people should not be judged for their educational background judging Aventurine for his educational background (that’s actually what the Sigonian upbringing line meant, it was mistranslated in the EN version)??!?!! Make it make sense.

Moreover, half this perception also come from the fact that hoyo made the incredible writing decision of naming Aventurines planet after a slur for Romani people, so unfortunately literally anytime its name, Sigonia, is brought up you’re essentially saying a slur. It’s much worse in the CN version, in EN it’s not obvious at all, because our version of the slur (it starts with a g and ends with a y that’s all the hints you’re getting), doesn’t look like the version of the slur that the name for Sigonia was derived from, which is partly the source of this misconception as I’m pretty certain most people assumed Ratio (and by extension Sparkle) said a slur elsewhere in the conversation when in reality them referring to Avens ethnicity/background/planet IS the slur.

Anyways terrible writing decisions aside, Ratio supposedly being racist doesn’t just contradict his core motivation, it contradicts his job. He’s a scholar, for fucks sake, and racism is inherently illogical. Mmm yes I’m gonna base my identity around finding truth for myself and I will believe government and social propaganda about specific groups of people! Very logical, very scholarly, we all clapped. 

So yeah, doesn’t make sense on a character level, to the point that in 2.0 I concluded that they must be using Ratio as a plot device in that scene to deliver some of Aven’s backstory to the audience due to how OOC it was for him 😭. However I wasn’t necessarily wrong, Ratio was delivering some of Aventurines backstory to AN audience (not just us), and he was behaving OOC in the 2.0 scene, but it was on purpose.

b) The betrayal plan 

Aventurine forms a plan in which him and Ratio pretend to betray one another in order to sneak the Aventurine cornerstone into the dreamscape by replacing it with the Topaz stone (red herring + black hole scene dialogue implies she and Jade are there for other reasons) and the Jade stone (perfect dupe). 

Now this betrayal hinges on Sunday, their main antagonist buying it, actually believing that Ratio would betray Aventurine on a mission as important as Penacony, and it requires Sunday also buying that he is winning the whole time, that the loss of the cornerstones was somehow a fumble on Aventurine’s end rather than something he planned all along. 

So, they stage the 2.0 conversation. Ratio yells at Aventurine for losing the cornerstones, something which was part of their plan the whole time. He then insults Aventurine’s background allowing Aventurine to reveal key details of his past that Sunday would not have learned otherwise, which he uses in the trial against Aventurine. Seriously, Aventurine only found out he was the last Avgin when he became a Stoneheart, do y’all think Sunday summoned that info with his mind or something during the trial (like do you guys genuinely think Sunday read his wiki or something)

Moreover, Ratio not only insults him, but portrays Aventurine as useless, disposable to the IPC because he is apparently already sentenced to death. Why does he do this? Well, so Sunday feels confident enough to do the same to Aventurine. Seriously, sentencing an IPC member, especially a high ranking one to death is a risky move, even for someone as convicted as Sunday, he would need the confidence to do so and learning Aven might already die would give him that ability. 

Because well, it doesn’t matter that much if he’s already going to get disposed of in the near future. I also think the IPC plans to use Aventurine’s “death” as leverage against the family because they were pleased to hear of his death sentence according to Dr. Ratio, meaning a) he likely did not have one from them at the time, although in the past he was sentenced to death and b) even if Aventurine succeeded in getting the cornerstone his seeming loss in the rest of the conversation wasn’t actually a loss at all, getting sentenced to death/“dying” at the very least was part of the plan all along as the IPC could still use it as leverage if things went south.

Continually, Ratio treating Aventurine in the exact same sh1tty way the rest of the galaxy does perfectly slots him into the arrogant, uncaring scholar role, which Sunday knows are some of the most easily manipulated people in the galaxy, considering he tries to bribe Ratio with knowledge about Stellarons it seems he bought this idea hook line and sinker. Sunday isn’t even subtle about it either “I heard you and your companion haven’t been getting along lately” where did he hear that from? Ratio didn’t tell him, and even though we know Sunday was 100% watching the two of them on their little adventure pre-meeting him (the bird and hound statues) that scene hasn’t happened yet so where did he get that from?

Some other interesting proof for it is that the Final Victor lightcone likely depicts Aventurine trying to convince Ratio of this plan of his, the events of which must occur  pre-Penacony for several reasons, the least of which being that we just never see it happen on Penacony which if you think it did we would see it. Moreover lightcones are canonically condensed memories and the Final Victor lightcone released in 2.0, meaning it’s the memory of something that happened before then. 

All signs point to the 2.0 scene, the one people use to paint Aventio as toxic being staged. And I have so much more evidence for this, (Ratio would never agree to go without a plan, Aven clearly formed his pre-Penaocny, so much of the plan like Ratio opening the cornerstone box, which he can’t do up until the betrayal as it’s in Sundays possession, rely on him arriving knowing how to do so, the time discrepancies, the complete 180 in personality Ratio would have to do to go from distrusting Aventurine to putting his whole faith in him, etc), but I will reupload one of my old slideshows to elaborate more on it. Basically the one thing that people use to say it’s toxic is not true and is in fact a greater show of the trust between those two. 

“The shippers are all weird and racist” 

Now this one actually has some truth to it because yes there are some incredibly fucking weird Aventio shippers and I do not blame yall for disliking them.

HOWEVER, most Aventio shippers are normal and hate that shit just as much as you guys do. Like do you realize most shippers also really like these characters and have something insane called morals so they don’t automatically excuse racist fujoshi goobers just because they are making content for their favorite ship. Trust me someone doing that pisses me (and most other Aventio shippers) off significantly more than people who hate the ship. Also free Ratio from this shit man poor guy is getting mischaracterized as a slaveowner by his fans and haters 😭

And like guys, have you ever been in a fandom before, like ever? Weirdos are always gonna be weird and it’s not Aventio’s fault they are this months victims. For a fun little example of how gross other fanbases can be, one of the most popular Overwatch ships on ao3 is Genji Shimada X Hanzo Shimada WHO ARE BLOOD RELATED BROTHERS. THERES LIKE 300+ FICS OF IT, SHIMADACEST IS LITERALLY A TAG ON THERE. I WAS IN THE TRENCHES SEARCHING FOR GENJI HANZO ANGST FICS (Hanzo killed Genji it’s complicated doomed siblings will always get me) AND HAVING TO COMB THROUGH THOSE ABOMINATIONS IN THE PROCESS.

Like please I’m relatively new to fandom culture but yall cannot be acting like this is weird for fans to do, it’s weirdo behavior but it is not unique to the HSR fandom or even Aventio. And even if understandably this makes you not like the ship, don’t paint the people who enjoy it as being the people who do this kinda sh1t. It’s not our fault peak gets tainted by miserable creatures ok, let normal ppl have their harmless fun and stop lumping people together into a monolith. 

?????

Well that’s it that’s all the “valid” reasons people have for hating Aventio, at least the ones I can remember. Everything else is just personal opinion and not at all an objective reason.

“They’re so sibling coded!”

Anyways again obviously you can still dislike it not everything is for everyone, I really just wanted to make this post to demonstrate why I and many others like it, and why the reasons people use to say it’s problematic are incorrect. Feel free to call it mid, block it whatever I don’t care, just don’t harass shippers for having some harmless fun, because the characters aren’t real but the people who like them are and in doing so you are really just being a jerk for no reason. If you somehow hate Aventio and read this the whole way through I congratulate you on your ability to actually listen to other people, and regardless of whether you changed your mind or not I respect you for doing so anyways. Thanks for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts. 

[rmstitanics]

* GENERAL OBSERVATIONS, PART THREE.

ASTEROIDS & CELESTIAL BODIES

ASTEROID ORPHEUS (3361) CONJUNCT CHIRON may represent one who looks to their past for creative inspiration. They’ll often use their preferred form of art in an attempt to understand traumatizing events or process any emotions that may still linger.

ASTEROID APOLLO (1862) in the 8H could signify an individual who enjoys creating or consuming media about controversial and dark topics.

When I see ASTEROID PANDORA (55) in the 10H, I immediately wonder whether the individual with this placement has experienced some sort of chaos or crises regarding their public image. Maybe they’ve had traumatic experiences with their main circle of friends, or maybe they’ve even received some level of backlash on social media for a flawed interaction. Whatever these natives have endured, they probably yearn to control public perception of their character in an attempt to prevent misunderstandings.

Check which house ASTEROID ARISTOTELES (6123) is located in within your natal chart to find where you crave the most knowledge and wisdom! As an example, I have my Aristoteles asteroid in the 8H of transformative experiences, death, and “taboo” topics — and I’m now a practicing divination witch who enjoys paranormal investigation.

Due to difficulty with turning intuitive ideas into real achievements, 9H CHIRON individuals might find the process of outlining an essay or project to be particularly challenging. They’re the types of students who change their thesis a bunch of times before a paper’s due date.

PLANETS IN SIGNS & HOUSES

SATURN 1H placements might have people pleasing tendencies at some point in their lives due to a fear of never meeting others’ expectations.

SAGITTARIUS SATURNS likely grew up in households where one or both parents was strict and / or religious. The challenge awaiting these folks in life is to pursue exploration of knowledge outside of what was taught to them in their youth. They probably enjoy philosophy or history, and could possibly grow up to be spiritual but not religious.

LEO MERCURY placements, was your writing style ever described as “flowery” by your teachers or fellow students before? Because this placement TOTALLY gives me the vibes of a flowery and dramatic writing style.

One could theoretically use their JUPITER placement to discover two things: 1) The field of study where they have experienced the most growth throughout their academic career and / or 2) their best academic subject. To do this, look at Jupiter’s degrees and house. I have CANCER JUPITER placed in the 9TH HOUSE in my chart, and I absolutely adore law, history, and philosophy! However, I’ve had to undergo the most growth in Cancerian concepts such as life skills in the home and actively listening to others.

CAPRICORN JUPITERS are prone to having a “the end justifies the means” philosophy when it comes to achieving their goals. They also might struggle with perspective taking / putting themselves in others’ shoes, particularly when they perceive the individual in question as someone outside of what they consider “normal”.

6H MOONS strike me as the type who love being around animals MUCH more than they love being around people, especially if the majority of their personal planets are in a water sign.

ASPECTS

SUN SQUARE URANUS indicates memorable students whose teachers / professors will remember them for many years to come.

Hard MERCURY-PLUTO aspects could struggle with maintaining a consistent routine for studying, especially if Mercury is in retrograde in the chart.

MERCURY TRINE JUPITER placements LOVE yapping in class, but it’ll either be with their peers while the teacher is talking or by frequent class participation. If you’re the class participation type, you’ve probably had a teacher say “does anyone OTHER than (your name) know the answer?” before 😭

Although this placement does make for great activists who are not afraid to call out injustice when they see it, LILITH CONJUNCT MERCURY folks NEED to prioritize being tactful due to a natural tendency to bluntly say whatever’s on their mind with no filter.

SATURN-NEPTUNE aspects need to practice intense discernment when it comes to politics — fact check everything and don’t just believe everything you see / hear on the internet or news without taking the time to research it for yourself!

Hard ASCENDANT-SUN aspects tend to be noticeably different people in public versus private spaces. Your first impression of them will likely be VERY different from the truth of the person that they are behind closed doors.

MIDHEAVEN OPPOSITE VENUS placements are amazingly creative individuals whose art may play a major role in their own identity, but they simultaneously might have a major fear of sharing that art with others. Peer review in class is an absolute NIGHTMARE for them.

[holllandtrash]

last call | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

a one shot based on the song last call by jamie miller, i highly suggest listening to it 'Cause when it's last call I wanna be your first call I wanna be your ride home You're gonna be my downfall

word count: 7.4k tags/warnings: soft and sweet, alcohol consumption

Max Verstappen was a lot of things.

He was a world champion, for starters. A two-time world champion, a title he carried proudly. He was on his way to claim that title for the third time, but he didn’t let the arrogance or the ease of it get to his head, there was still work to do this season.

He was a son and a brother. He cared about his family more than the media would ever know, always painting him as some sort of villain on and off the track to which it got to the point that Max simply stopped trying to change people’s opinions. His family knew who he was, he didn’t need to make any adjustments for them.

He was a friend, and a damn good one if he said so himself. To be fair, it was difficult to see the mates he grew up with when his job took him around the world and back, but he never forgot his roots. He cherished any time he got to spend with those in his close circle. He had a rule too, no phones. If he was with his friends, nothing on his phone mattered. That was also why he was deemed ‘antisocial’ during any breaks, however long. God forbid he not take any photos of him having a good time to prove he knows how to have a good time.

Last but most certainly not least, on Friday and Saturday nights in Monaco, he was a chauffeur. 

Your chauffeur.

Neither of you were quite sure when this whole arrangement started, but did that really even matter?

Max pulled up alongside the curb of the club and sent you a text. A minute later you came walking out the doors, a grin plastered on your face as you said your goodbyes to your friends. 

As you walked around the front of the car, Max tried to not let his gaze linger on the way your skirt showcased the length of your legs and how in a matter of a seconds you’d be sitting next to him and he’d be thanking his lucky stars he drove a manual so he had a reason to keep his hand off of you.

You climbed into the passenger side of his car, the seat was already adjusted to your height. There was an unopened bottle of water in the cup holder. An artist you listened to was already quietly playing through the speakers. Even if Max didn’t get a heads up that you were going out tonight, he knew what to do when you called him.

He knew that if the seat was pushed back you would complain, jokingly. He knew that you’d ask if he had water somewhere in his car and he knew that you’d ask for help to connect your phone to Bluetooth, if it hadn’t already died. 

And while Max liked that routine, he also liked seeing your face light up when you realised you no longer needed to ask for anything. 

“Hi,” you turned in your chair to face him. You were smiling, but you had been smiling all night. Did you mean any of them in the last few hours? The answer was unknown, but you certainly meant it now. You took one look at Max and you couldn’t help but smile, it was your body’s natural reaction, just like how you turned to face him as soon as you sat down. 

“Fun night?” He asked. He always asked that, but you both knew he didn’t care about what you got up to inside the walls of the nightclub. If he cared, he would have joined you the number of times you politely asked him to when you saw him in passing when you left the flat. But Max just wasn’t a nightclub kind of person. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Yeah, Rina’s a bit of a handful, but it was fun.”

“You stayed out late,” Max pointed out, but not in a type of way you would expect a parent to discipline their kid. It was simply Max calling attention to the time, the same time as always. 

This was a habit you had fallen into, unintentionally. 

Wherever you were, whatever establishment, when their bartenders yelled for last call, you pulled out your phone and called Max. The call for the last round of drinks was your reminder that you needed to go home and luckily, there was someone who would pick you up, every time, without fail. 

It was convenient that you two lived in the same building. It may have been in passing that Max offered for you to ever call him if you needed something, but neither of you expected it to spiral into this. 

He was just being friendly. It was the neighbourly thing to do. 

Which is why you were hesitant the first time you called Max when you needed a ride home. But all of your friends had left you, you lost your credit card somewhere on the dance floor and in your state of mind, you were in no position to try and walk the streets of Monte Carlo alone. 

So you called him, apologising about a dozen times but through the line you heard him get up from bed with a quiet sigh. You heard the jingle of keys and it wasn’t long before you finally heard Max’s car roar to life and he told you he’d be there in ten minutes.

That pattern of sounds became music to your ears before you knew it. The faint grunt as he stood up, the keys twirling around his finger, his car turning on. 

Breath, keys, car. It was clockwork. It was something you pretty much expected at this point when you called him. 

And Max, well Max knew it was pointless to even lay down, but he did on the off chance you didn’t go out. You always went out. 

Max had a good heart. He wanted his friends to be safe and somehow, you had wormed your way into that layer of his life. You were one of his friends. And he would rather you call him every Friday night than have to wake up in the morning and not know if you got home at all.

It was convenient that he was home for the break. He was in Monaco. He could be there for you when you needed him, and he would be.

But that pegged the question, what did you do when he was away? When he was racing? When he was across the globe fighting for championship points, who did you call to pick you up at the end of the night?

Max never asked. In fact, the topic of his job never came up with you. You knew he was a Formula 1 driver, he mentioned it subtly, well he thought it was subtle, it really wasn't. And when you said “Oh yeah, my dad watches that. He likes Josef Newgarden,” Max bit his tongue so as to not tell you that your dad was referring to an IndyCar driver, a completely different series.

You knew very little about the sport. Even with Monaco being the pinnacle track of Formula 1, you never bothered to learn about it or keep up with it. Maybe that’s why Max found it so easy to talk to you in the first place. You never once saw him as a driver. You just saw him as your neighbour and on some nights, your chauffeur. 

So one could imagine his surprise when you brought up his career during that drive home.

“When do you go back?” You asked, slight hesitancy in your tone as this was not a topic you knew well, your vocabulary was limited. “To racing?”

“Two weeks,” Max answered. “It’ll be my home race.”

He pulled up to a red light and glanced at you, instantly recognising that the term home race was not one you were familiar with, but you nodded as though you did. 

“It’s in the Netherlands,” he further clarified. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you were reminded that he was Dutch. 

“That’ll be fun,” you added. 

Why was this awkward? Neither of you were usually ones for small talk. Usually you would get in the car and talk about the characters you saw that you knew he’d get a laugh at. You would be chatting his ear off, that was part of the routine. 

And tonight, you were struggling to fill the silence. Max couldn’t tell why. 

You knew why, however. 

It was because when you were out tonight, your friend Rina was whisked away by someone who asked to dance with her. She blushed, her cheeks and neck turning bright red before saying yes and taking his hand to lead her towards the dance floor.

You watched with amusement, happy for your friend, but there was that sinking feeling of jealousy settling in the pit of your stomach. Granted, the man she was dancing with was not your type. He was tall, too tall, with dark features, an arm of tattoos. Sure he seemed charming and he certainly knew how to dance, but you weren’t jealous he had chosen Rina instead of you.

You were jealous that your friend had someone to dance with. 

And you had been asked a few times by strangers to join them under the lights, but you turned down all of them. They weren’t people you wanted to spend your time with. They didn’t give you butterflies when you thought about the potential of starting something new with a stranger from the club.

No, you got those butterflies when you climbed into the passenger seat of Max’s car. They were faint, they came as fast as they went. They could have been mistaken for nausea if you weren’t certain you only had two drinks tonight.

But they were there.

Which led to your next thought, if Max ever asked you to dance, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

And you had been attracted to Max since the first day you saw him, basically, but you kept those feelings to yourself, even as they grew from a physical attraction to more.

Recently, however, they had been getting harder and harder to ignore.

So maybe that’s why you were struggling to move past this silence right now. You were suddenly looking at Max in a very different light. He was your friend, yes, but he had proven time and time again that he would show up for you, that he wouldn’t hesitate to pick you up no matter that hour. None of your other friends made that commitment to you. 

But you would never act on any of it. The thoughts, the feelings. Max had never once hinted that he was interested, he was just nice. He was wholesome, despite what you had heard in the media. He was just looking out for you.

So when he walked you to the door of your flat that evening, you said goodnight like you usually did and you headed inside.

You had no idea that Max lingered in the hallway for a minute, debating with himself whether or not he should knock on your door. He’d done it before, making up some excuse to talk to you for just another few minutes. 

Because the truth was, Max enjoyed the time he spent with you, even if it was limited to those car rides from the club to your apartment complex. He liked not knowing which version of you would climb into the passenger seat. While you were almost always talkative, there were times when all you wanted was a coffee at an ungodly hour. There were times when you were complaining about the people you met. There were times when you couldn’t stop laughing to the point that Max had to pull over because your laughter was angelic and contagious and he wasn’t about to risk getting into an accident because the two of you couldn’t contain yourselves.

Max liked the fact that you always called him at the end of the night. 

For some weird reason, he liked that you were thinking of him. It made him so unbelievably happy to know that when the bartender yelled for ‘last call’ at the end of the night, he was your first call. 

But those phone calls were only ever restricted to Friday and Saturday nights. And only when he was in Monaco. While you didn’t understand Formula 1, you must have followed it a bit to know when he wasn’t home. You never called him during a race weekend. 

Except that one night last year when he was in Austin. It was just after 2am in Monaco, but Max was sitting down and having dinner in his hotel room. For you, it was early Sunday morning. For him it was still Saturday.

And it was because you didn’t recognise the pattern, you didn’t hear the breath, the keys, the car, you instantly knew that this was a weekend where he was away. He was working, racing, whatever he wanted to call it.

“Oh fuck,” you blurted out before Max could say anything. Your exclamation was met with a hefty laugh. He wasn’t annoyed in any means that you had called him while he was away, just a bit surprised is all. 

“I can order you an uber,” He instantly offered. You heard the sound of him shifting on the bed and his voice then echoed as it bounced off the walls of his hotel room, like he turned on the speakerphone, like he was already looking for the app to order you an uber from halfway across the world. 

“I can do that myself,” you argued. 

The line was silent for a moment. You were both thinking the same thing. Why didn’t you just always call an uber? Why did you always rely on Max to drive you home? 

Neither of you voiced that question. You had your own answers, but if they didn’t match up then that would lead to an entirely different conversation, one that you could do without, one that had the risk of ruining whatever sort of pattern you had fallen into.

“You okay? Did you have a fun night?” Max moved on, not wanting to think about how you were probably ordering that car for yourself. If he was in Monaco right now, he’d already be in the elevator down to the parking garage. 

“Yeah, it was good,” your words slurred together. Not enough to alarm Max, but he knew you. He knew that the more you drank, the more honest you were. 

You proved that point about two seconds later.

“Honestly, Jordan’s just fucking annoying,” you sighed. Max could picture you running your hands through your hair, you did that often, but especially when something was eating at you and right now, it was your friend Rina’s boyfriend. Boyfriend? Boy toy? Ex? Max tried to keep up, but there was a new label every week. It’d be easier to stay up to date with your life and the ‘drama’ that circled it if you saw him more than once or twice a weekend, but he wasn’t about to put that thought in your head and potentially scare you off. What you had was fine. The late night calls, the last calls turned first calls was fine.

“What happened now?” Max asked. 

“Well we literally told him not to come out, Rina’s still pissed after what he did last week- oh shit, hang on.”

While you searched for what Max could only assume was a credit card or your lip gloss or something that should have fallen out of your pockets by now, he thought back to what Jordan did last week. 

You sighed heavily into the receiver, “...what was I saying?”

“Rina’s still mad,” Max reminded you. “She hasn’t forgiven him for getting drunk at her parents anniversary dinner?”

You laughed, “God you have a better memory than me. I had to ask Rina why we were giving him the cold shoulder tonight.”

Point for Max. 

Why did this little victory mean so much to him?

“Anyway, he tried to make it up to her tonight by buying all of her drinks but then his card declined like an hour in, who lives in fucking Monte Carlo and can’t afford drinks? He’s a fake, is what he is and Rina deserves so much better. I have a theory he’s-”

“That he's from Nice,” Max finished with his own chuckle. “Want me to hire a P.I. to look into it?”

There was a pause and then a very serious, “Can you actually do that?”

“I could but I was joking,” Max said. He could picture your pouty bottom lip. It was a good thing you weren’t actually with him. He probably would have given in and found a private investigator within an hour. 

“Oh I think my uber- yeah that’s it,” you said, more to yourself than to him as your voice trailed off at the end. “I’m sorry for calling. I knew you were in Austin, I just- I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Max told you. “You don’t ever need to apologise for calling me. You know that if I was home I’d come pick you up, right?”

A faint inhale, one that held so many feelings that your words could never express, “I know.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will,” you assured him. “And good luck today. Or- tomorrow, I guess. I know you’ll kill it.”

This was how Max knew you weren’t keeping up with Formula 1. He had officially claimed his second world championship title last weekend in Japan. He could quite literally sit out of the remaining races and still hold enough points to safely stand at the top of the driver standings. 

But he wasn’t going to tell you that because he knew you’d instantly feel bad for not knowing, for not congratulating him. In your head, the championship fight went until the end of the season and typically it would, but this year was different for Max. 

Max just said thank you and you both hung up. You climbed into the backseat of an uber where there was no water waiting for you and you didn’t dare ask for the driver to play Harry Styles. Max laid back on his bed, pushing his tray of room service aside as he stared up at the hotel ceiling. 

When he returned that following Monday, Max was surprised to see dark blue streamers hanging on the outside of his door. There was a card shoved halfway underneath the door and he opened it up, looking at the delicate handwriting that read ‘heard you’re a world champion or whatever, let me know if you want to celebrate, I don’t mind picking you up for a change’. 

Max laughed as he read the card. It was very you. You didn’t give two shits about the driver championship and Max loved that. He loved that you found reasons to be his friend outside from the fact that he was a Formula 1 driver. You didn’t care that his name came with power, wealth, fame, but you still showed your support with the little you knew about racing. You were a good friend to him.

And that’s what it was. Friendship. Why else would you have written, ‘I don't mind picking you up for a change’? You weren’t offering to celebrate with him, you were offering to be the designated driver after he went out with his group of friends, the friends that did care about his career. 

Max would have gone out and celebrated with you. He would have said yes in a heartbeat, if you asked.

But you didn't. The closest that you came to going out with him was when you politely invited him to join you on your evenings out with your close circle, but Max was an afterthought. You never knocked on his door and invited him out, it was only if you passed him in the hallway or if the elevator doors opened and he was standing on the other side.

And Max said the same thing every time. ‘Nah, you have fun. Let me know if you need a ride home.’ 

Max thought you were just being friendly, neighbourly, but the truth was, you were waiting for the day where he said ‘Yeah, why not?’. 

You never went out of your way to ask him out because of the rejection you had received in passing. How embarrassing would it be if you knocked on his door only to be met with the same rejection? To see the look of pity on his face as the door slowly shut. 

There was a lot of uncertainty when it came to how you saw him or how he saw you and the only thing that was certain, was that you were friends. 

So that’s why Max didn’t knock on your door now and make up some excuse about how you left his lip gloss in his car. He returned to his room and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his flat at 2:30 in the morning, something he had gotten quite used to, until sleep took over as he was thinking about how maybe next time, maybe next Friday, he’ll make a proper move.

But a wrench was thrown into his plans when your name lit up his phone screen a few days later. It wasn’t weird that you were calling him, what he couldn’t understand was why. It was a little after three on a Wednesday. Your conversations, the phone calls, the late night drives, they were confined to weekends.

Max answered though, maybe you left work early and accidentally drank too many sangrias on a patio. He’d pick you up, of course, this was just very unlike your pattern.

He expected to hear the slurring of words. He could understand drunk you enough to piece together what you were saying.

But the sharp inhale through your words, this was new. It was clear you were actively trying to not cry into the phone, trying to hold yourself together but Max heard it as your meek ‘hi’ came through the receiver.

And god did it break him. 

“Where are you?” Max asked, already sliding his shoes on practically sprinting towards the elevator. Of course it was stuck on the main floor. No matter how many times he pressed the button, that steel boxed moved too damn slowly for his own good.

“Horizon,” you sniffed. Max recognized that restaurant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know who to call. Can you-”

“I’m already on the way.”

It wasn’t far. Max pulled up outside the restaurant in under ten minutes. You were sitting on a bench, dark shades covering your eyes but Max caught the way you raised your hand to wipe your cheeks before climbing into the car. 

He didn’t even think to grab tissues before leaving his flat, but he had a feeling you would just deny them anyway. If he knew anything about you, he knew you weren’t one to cry. You had a very hard exterior, you felt things deeply, but you didn’t cry. Not in front of other people.

“Can we just- I don’t know, can we just drive for a bit?” you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. This wasn’t like you and Max would do anything to see the light in your eyes, to see your bright smile that made getting out of bed at 2 in morning worth it every time.

Max nodded, getting the idea that you didn’t want to talk. Or if you did, it would be on your own accord. You crossed one leg over the other and Max glanced at the beige romper you wore. He didn’t point out the dark red stain on your hem, but you rubbing at it was certainly not going to get it out. He could only assume it was wine? Did you spill wine on yourself at lunch? Who were you even out for lunch with?

And then he noticed you playing with the ring on your middle finger, again this wasn’t like you. You didn’t fidget and if you did, you’d play with the strands of your hair. 

Max had seen you drunk, he’d seen you a few drinks in, he’d seen you sober. 

He’d never seen you so upset over something before, though. The silence in the car was heavy. Whatever was on your mind, he wished there was a way for him to take some of the weight off of you. 

He wasn’t travelling in any particular direction, just aimlessly around Monaco, but after the seconds turned to minutes, Max saw you visibly relax against the seat of his car.

“Do you know what I do?” You asked him, pulling your sunglasses off. 

You both turned your faces towards each other. Faint mascara smudges stained the corner of your eyes. Your cheeks were still rosy, your jaw was clenched in anticipation of the rest of the conversation. This wasn’t the you that Max was used to, but it was a version of you he wanted to get to know. He wanted to know every side of you, even the sides you tried to hide behind sunglasses and spilled wine and choked back tears.

“Job wise?” Max asked for clarification. “Yeah, you’re ah- an environmental consultant? Right?”

You were a little impressed that he knew, but to be fair, you’ve had hundreds of conversations with Max and you weren’t sober for all of them. The discussion of jobs probably slipped your mind.

“I like my job,” you stated.

“Good. That’s important.”

“So why do I feel stuck?”

Max licked his lower lip, “Elaborate.”

“I’ve been doing the same thing since I graduated,” you told him, looking out the window again. Slowly, the Monte Carlo skyline was disappearing into the side mirrors. “And I like it, I do. I like the company I work for. I like the people I work with, but why does it feel like that’s the only thing I have going for me in life right now?”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Max sighed, but if he was being honest, he had no idea. What he knew about you was minimal and it killed him.

You nodded, but it was just out of politeness so as to not argue that he was wrong. 

A few more minutes passed before you inhaled the heaviest breath your lungs could take.

“My sister’s engaged. Rina’s moving to Milan at the end of the summer. My brother travels for a living and I just- I’m not doing anything.”

So that’s what this was about. Max was smart, he could put the pieces together. You talked about your siblings a bit, but you never mentioned your sister getting married before. The way you were looking down at your hand throughout this drive told Max that this late lunch was you meeting your sister so she could announce the good news.

And something as big as that would undoubtedly send someone spiralling, making them question their own life choices, the path they were on. As long as Max has known you, you’ve had the same job, same friends, no partner. 

Your best friend moving was not new either, you had excitedly told Max about her job offer a few weeks back, but maybe it was just sinking in now. Everyone around you was moving onto bigger and better things and you were, as you put it, stuck. 

“I think I need a change of scenery,” you admitted quietly. 

Which was not what Max wanted to hear.

Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave Monaco. Even though he was the one who was gone so many weeks out of the year for the races, he liked knowing you would always be there when he returned home. That you were just down the hall. 

Before Max could try and talk you out of moving, you reached across the centre console and put your hand over his, the one that rested on the gear stick. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, Max knew you to be a little handsy when you were drinking, but you seemed to be sober this time. 

“I’m sorry for calling you,” you said, even though you really didn’t need to apologise. “I didn’t know who else to call and I just, I needed to breathe.”

Max found comfort in that. 

That he was someone you could clear your head with, that you didn’t need to put on an act around him. In a way, you trusted him. You must have if he was your first call after your sister dropped a bombshell.

When the two of you found your way back to the apartment complex, Max walked you to the door like he always did. Your flushed cheeks had returned to its normal colour. Your eyes no longer looked glossed over. And the smile you gave him seemed genuine.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open and something in Max screamed now or never and before he knew it, he was reaching for your hand to keep you from going inside. He pulled you back to face him and the expression you wore was unreadable. 

Max froze. 

Something that he never did.

He was always calm and collected, always ahead of his thoughts, always knew what to do and when to do it. 

But that was thanks to his training and his training only prepared him for driving at ridiculous speeds and navigating dozens of race tracks and thinking on his feet in tough situations while he sat behind the wheel of an F1 car.

His training didn’t prepare him for how stunned he would feel as he met your eyes, grabbing your attention for the first time outside the safety net of his regular car.

Whatever Max wanted to say, it had now vanished and he had no choice but to rely on the words that he had told you many times before.

“You know you don’t need to apologise for calling me, right?” Max said, his hand falling from yours. 

“I know,” a faint breath of laughter followed your assurance. 

“And for the record-” Max paused. “I don’t think you’re stuck. I think you’re right where you need to be.”

Max’s words stayed with you for the next few days. In fact, they were all you could think about, even when you met Rina Saturday night at your usual spot. She had ordered you a drink, she was a few in herself already and you had barely taken a sip when she brought up the idea of you moving to Milan with her.

You almost spit out the cocktail, “I- what? Move with you? Rina, my job’s here.”

“Yeah but you’re so experienced, I’m sure you could find another one in Milan,” Rina stuck out her lower lip. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do without my best friend.”

While you might have contemplated moving a few days ago, you weren’t sure you were really ready to leave Monaco. This was your home, you loved it here. Despite what you said to Max about feeling stuck, his words were burned into your mind.

You weren’t stuck. You had no reason to leave. You wanted to be here. 

You just had a momentary lapse of judgement. 

“I’m not moving, Rina,” you sighed, connecting your hand with hers. “But I’ll visit and you can too. I’m still your best friend, even if we’re in different countries.”

She knew better than to plead her case any more, deciding that spending the night drinking and dancing was more fun than thinking about her upcoming move. 

And before you knew it, the DJ made an announcement for the last call at the bar and you were pulling out your phone to call Max.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Rina said, or rather, yelled, as the music was still blaring. She saw his contact on your screen, she saw the way the corner of your lips were pulled upwards when you thought about being with him shortly. 

“Because I don’t feel anything,” you shouted back. It was a lie. A bold faced lie that your friend saw right through but didn’t push you any more on it. 

She walked with you to the curb. Max rolled down the window and waved to her, offering her a ride as well. But Rina denied it, she knew this was your time to be with Max. 

“Get home safe, I love you,” you called out, hand gripping the handle of the passenger side door. Rina blew you a kiss and then you climbed in. 

Max reached into the backseat and grabbed the bottle of water he had tossed there when he left his apartment. He waited until taking a sip before asking if you had a fun night.

“Yeah, Rina asked me to move to Milan with her,” you answered, wiping the corner of your mouth. You looked at Max expectantly, trying to gauge what his answer would be. Surely the man who told you that you were in the right place wasn’t going to encourage you to move.

Max just hummed and put the car into drive. He waited until you were a few minutes away from the club to say anything, as if seeing Rina standing on the sidewalk in the rearview mirror was somehow going to make this conversation harder.

“What did you-” Max stopped himself and chose something else to say, “You’re not moving, though. Right?”

And then you saw it. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concern. The way his hand clenched over the gear lever. The way his jaw tightened as he fought with himself before asking if you were in fact leaving.

Max didn’t want you to go. 

That thought alone made your stomach turn in knots, but not the kind you felt when you were sick. You were most definitely not sick, you could have been floating on cloud 9 when you realised Max wanted you to stay in Monaco.

“Are you kidding?” You retorted, feeling a burst of confidence. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you had been drunk before and never once tried flirting. No time like the present. “Think of how inconvenient it would be for you to drive to Milan every time I go clubbing.”

Max chuckled, his features softening as the lines around his lips made an appearance. God you loved his smile. 

“Oh so you’re staying for my sake? Well that’s- that’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

He stopped at a red light and turned to you. The heavy weight that was lingering on his shoulders when you mentioned moving had disappeared instantly. You weren’t going anywhere. You would still be here when Max returned from his races. You’d be here during the break. You’d be here, calling his phone on those Friday and Saturday nights when you needed a ride home.

“Can I ask you something?” Max spoke quietly, waiting until you nodded before getting something off his mind that had been there since this whole driving arrangement started. “Who do you call when I’m not in Monaco?”

Your smile was soft as the corner of your lips were tugged upwards. Max, if he wanted to, could have convinced himself it was the alcohol that caused you to be all smiley, but he also wanted to believe he had something to do with it. 

Dropping your gaze for a moment, you parted your lips, closed them again, and then took a breath as Max waited for your response.

“Max, I don’t go out when you’re not in Monaco.”

He was thinking he didn’t hear you correctly. Maybe you said you called some guy named Marco. That made more sense. You called a back-up rather than put your evening social life on pause while he was away.

He needed clarification, “What?”

You laughed this time, looking out the windshield. The traffic light was still red, but Max didn’t need to rely on the soft glow of the street light to make out the shade of pink that was climbing up your neck and cheeks.

“I don’t go out clubbing when you’re not in Monaco,” you repeated. He had heard you correctly.

Max wasn’t sure what to think. 

He felt like an idiot, for starters. If he had known you wanted to see him, to spend time with him, he would have put an effort in to join you during your nights out. Or better yet, maybe he would have asked you on a date. 

But he was clueless. He didn’t know that you relied on those calls at the end of the night because you were too shy to actually ask him out like a normal person would. You were too afraid of stepping outside of this pattern you both fell into because what if it didn’t work out?

Now it was all out in the open. The only reason you went out as much as you did when he was home was because you used it as an excuse to call him, to see him. 

The blaring of a horn from the car behind him caused Max to shift gears, quite literally and metaphorically. He took off, having missed the light turn green, and his attention went back to the road. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at you, he did. He very much wanted to continue this conversation but he was at a loss for words. 

The silence only grew during the drive back to your building. In the corner of his eye, he could see you shifting in the seat. You kept turning your phone on and off, hoping there would be texts to distract you from this hush that had fallen over the car. You were overthinking everything now, did you say the wrong thing? Would it have been better if you didn’t say anything?

Max too was overthinking everything. Had he misread signs you had tried to give him? Was he now making things worse by not acknowledging what you had said? With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable as you sat in anticipation for what sort of conversation was going to come next.

When Max finally pulled into the parking garage underneath the building, you couldn’t have reached for the door handle faster. You wanted to go inside, to forget you had said anything. God you even debated deleting his number from your phone so you didn’t risk calling him again the next time you went out.

But Max was quick too. 

He knew he had to do something to make up for how painful this car ride was, something that showed you he was on the same page as you, that he too looked forward to the moments he was home just so he could wait for your phone call.

He stepped out of the car when you did, walking around the front instead of heading towards the elevator. You kept your eyes down, planning on just walking right past him, and you would have, had Max not grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you into his body.

His fingers moved from your hand to your waist as his other hand cupped the side of your face and you finally looked at him for the first time since you got into the car. 

Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words, but that didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like you had time to say anything before Max took that leap, crossed the line, and pressed his lips to yours. 

And it was everything you had been waiting for. 

Max leaned against the hood of his car as you slid your hand up his shirt, grabbing the thin material as you wasted no time in kissing him back. His mouth was tender and soft as it moved against yours, both of you feeling the same intensity that had been building up for weeks, maybe even months now. 

It took everything in Max to not drag you back into the car and pull you on his lap in the driver's seat, an image that he had painted in his head a while ago. Instead, his grip on your waist just tightened, holding you against his chest the way he had been wanting to for a while now.

Your nose brushed against his when you pulled back, your gaze lingered on his lips before finally darting upwards. 

The parking garage was quiet, there was a low hum that came from the pipes above you. The overhead lights did nothing to set any sort of mood, but you couldn’t imagine a better place to share a first kiss with Max.

You weren’t in the safety of his car, a place that had become so comfortable to you. By waiting until you stepped out, by stopping you from walking to the elevator, Max was showing you that this was something he wanted and he wanted it when the car ride was over. He wanted it before you called him, before you went out for the night, before the weekend even started. 

He relaxed against the hood of his car, both of you sharing similar looks of serenity. There was no more confusion, no more wavering uncertainty. 

His fingers brushed through your hair before bringing your lips to his once more. 

And then there it was, that smile of yours that made getting into his car two in the morning so fucking worth it.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Max asked. He now knew the answer wouldn’t be going out with friends, that was reserved for when he was home.

You shrugged, “I’m not sure, why?”

“Well you said you wanted a change of scenery, right?” Max recalled your conversation from earlier this week. “How about the Netherlands?”

“You want me to come to a race?” You were probably the last person who should be invited to a Grand Prix and Max knew this, he even laughed at your doubtful response. 

“I really do,” he said. 

“I don’t know anything about Formula 1.”

Max rubbed his thumb over your side, the simple gesture was enough to have your body curving against his once more. 

“I have all of next week to give you a crash course,” he pointed out. “If you’re interested.” 

And of course you were. There’s nothing else you wanted more than to spend your evenings with Max, to learn more about his career, to learn about him. When your lips curved upwards into another smile, Max knew you were on board. 

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You go out with me the next weekend you’re in Monaco.”

Max dipped his head back and laughed. You rested your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling his face back to yours. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” he chuckled. “And I will, but we’ll be leaving before last call.”

“That’s fine with me as long as you still take me home,” you pressed your lips together tightly, trying to contain your eagerness for the night that was still far in the future. Max brushed his thumb over your lower lip. He too was thinking ahead. 

Not just to that upcoming weekend, but every weekend after and all of the days inbetween. 

Coming home to Monaco was always something he looked forward to, but now he had even more of a reason to anticipate the breaks between races. You two didn’t have to wait until a Friday evening to see each other anymore. 

He didn’t have to be your first call at the end of the night, but you both knew he still would be, and so much more. 

He’d be your first call when you got home from work and you’d be his when he landed in a new country. You’d be the first person to call him after watching his winning performance of a race and likewise, you’d be the first person he wanted to talk to, the first person he wanted to celebrate with.

There’d be a lot of firsts moving forward, but you didn’t need to wait until last call anymore. 

masterlist here

this was mostly for @tsarinablogs and @estevries

[fangirl-dot-com]

Fernando Alonso - I Love My Grandpa

Wow it feels like this series is flying! After this chapter, we only have two more to go. Like – that’s crazy to me, never would have thought that one simple story idea would lead to something like a multichapter work with spin offs and extras! This one might be a little bit shorter so I apologize! I’m honestly just trying to get back onto the next chapters! 

All of you readers have helped me get to where we are with this entire work and I promise to be a good author! 

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love <3 

You sighed as you walked around the paddock. Bored out of your ever-loving mind. Max was off in some meeting, Charles was hidden in the Ferrari garage (one you hadn’t found out how to infiltrate, the Italians are menaces to societies), Lando and Oscar are late, Alex decided to go off with Lily and NOT invite you, and Logan was sleeping. Which, in hindsight, was probably what you needed to be doing, but you were restless. 

You’d been out of the car for one of the small breaks and were just itching to get back into driver. But no. 

You were stuck in the paddock. 

Alone. 

You thought about bothering Mitch, but like most adults, she was working for the race this coming weekend. Boo-hoo. You knew that Christian could give you something to do, but that would mean an old lady job like filing. Or honestly, it wouldn’t but you didn’t want to give Christian any ideas. 

Now, you were stuck, scrolling through one of your multiple social media apps, on the hospitality roof. Your headphones were on, blocking out the world. You swiped out of Instagram and clicked on TikTok. 

Maybe you should have bothered the social media personnel. They seemed to always look for drivers to make new videos. You quickly stood up. If they wouldn’t find you, you would do it yourself. Glancing over the railing, your eyes danced along the grid. Who could you approach and force to make a TikTok with? 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the emerald green that flashed below. A smirk grew on your face as you quickly left the roof to go down to the pitlane. Once out in the sun, you made your way over the garage. 

You knew better than Max to wear the Red Bull clothing on days that it was not needed. So you blended in, kind of. You glanced around for the one driver that you knew would make a video with you. He wasn’t named “public figure of the year” for nothing. Even though it was only for Spain, it still counted. 

You walked up to a group of mechanics, suddenly feeling confident. 

“Do you know where I could find Fernando?” your voice echoed through the empty garage. They suddenly stopped what they were doing and looked at you. You felt small under their gaze, but held eye contact. 

One of them sweetly smiled and said that Fernando should be watering plants around the pit. You quickly thanked him and left the garage, a tight grip on your phone. You would get this video and be TikTok famous. 

Your only goal in life. 

You snorted at your thought. That was definitely not your goal in life, but it was one of them. Looking for the Spaniard was harder than you thought. You thought you had gone to every single garage on the planet, and he was nowhere to be found. 

At one point, you ran into several of the other drivers. And when you say ran into, it was quite literally. It wasn’t your fault that Max decided to step in front of you when you were speed walking past Red Bull. 

The impact was more than you thought, as you found yourself on the hot asphalt. You gazed up at the Dutchman, sun getting into your eyes. You pulled yourself up and stood next to him. Max still looked as though he was recovering from your hit. 

Before he could say anything though, you blurted out, “Have you seen Fernando?” 

Max had a bewildered look on his face. Why would you be looking for Fernando? From behind you, Charles suddenly appeared, eating what you think were some sort of chips. 

Right, Max never went anywhere without Charles and Charles never went anywhere without Max. Maybe for secret Santa, you’d get them one of those giant shirts for them to wear. 

Through his bites, Charles managed to get out, “I saw him earlier at hospitality.” 

You clapped him on the shoulders. “Good man. Thank you.” You quickly reached into his bag of snack, grabbed whatever your fingers could feel, and dashed away, stuffing your face. 

The Monégasque and Dutchman just stared as you bolted from the both of them. 

“What was that?” Max asked, as Charles looked down at his bag with whine.  

“She took the last of my snack.” 

Max shook his head. “Come on. We’ll get you more snacks. Red Bull doesn’t go over cost cap on catering for nothing!” 

The two drivers disappeared, leaving the various employees questioning what they just witnessed. 

As for you, you were still on your journey. You climbed the stairs once again, putting yourself right back where you started. And low and behold. 

There he was. In all his glory. 

Watering the plants?  

He must have sensed your presences, or heard you gasping for air since you took the stairs. But you wouldn’t talk about that. 

He sent you a welcoming smile and beckoned you over. You gingerly stepped closer to the plant that he was showering. You cocked your head, not knowing what else you were supposed to do. Your eyes were wide as you looked at the nice flowers that had bloomed. You decided to talk first. 

“Do you water all of the plants?” 

A deep chuckle escaped Fernando’s lips. He had watched you look with a puzzled face. 

“Not all of them. Just the ones that look like they need something extra,” he gave you a wink before turning back to his task. You took this moment to look around. At the opposite edge of the roof, there was a smaller plant that looked as if it had seen better days. 

You grabbed one of the water bottles that Fernando had near him and opened it as you cracked the seal. You carefully poured the water over the small plant. Watching, you noticed how the dirt seemed to just drink it up. 

This was actually pretty nice: having to share a quiet space with someone. You made your way over to a few more plants before walking back over. It seemed as though Fernando was done as well. 

You went to speak, but was interrupted with a growl from your stomach. Quickly looking at your phone, the time shocked you as it was already past lunch. Fernando quietly laughed. 

“Lunch?” 

You grinned widely at the suggestion. The two of you made your way down to the hospitality cafeteria. It was pretty empty, since the lunch hour had passed for multiple people. You walked up to the line, ordered, grabbed your food, and found a nice table near the back by a window. It reminded you of the first lunch you had with Mitch. 

Fernando sat across from you. You liked his energy. 

“So,” he spoke first, “I heard from one of my mechanics that you were looking for me?” He raised his eyebrow. 

Your cheeks flushed as you bit into your sandwich. You quickly swallowed to answer. “Uh, I was bored and I wanted to make a TikTok. But everyone was busy, so I thought I’d try to find you.” Your shoulders raised in a shrug. 

You found yourself doing that quite a bit. 

The Spaniard looked at you. “You couldn’t find someone younger? I’m just wondering why you’d come to me first?” 

“Well, uh, there were some mechanics not working, but I really judge people of how I feel around them. They kind of gave off a busy vibe that I didn’t like. But you have more of a calm, grandpa kind of vibe.” You sipped your water. “I mean, if you thought that your career in Formula 1 being longer than Oscar has been alive, it’s worse with me. You’re 24 years older than me.” 

Fernando looked like his body took a screen shot. 

You quickly put out your arms, trying to console the driver. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s nice to have someone who’s older. I really looked up to you as a kid, and I still do.” You twisted your fingers nervously and Fernando could see that. 

“It’s not an issue niña. I’m honored to have someone like you that looks up to me. But let’s maybe not talk about the ages.” You giggled quietly as his scrunched face.  

“It’s kind of hard not to think about it when everyone calls me kid,” your face also scrunched, same as Fernando. “I’m glad that Oscar and Logan don’t do that, but even Lando has started.” You pretended to cry. “He’s only 3 years older.” Your head hit the table.  

He kind of just watched you go through the five stages of grief. If there was one thing he knew about kids, it was to just let them go through the motions. Your head quickly shot up as you took inhaled.  “Can we make a TikTok now?”  

A small laugh left his lips. “Sure, we can. Did you have an idea?”  

Your hands reached for your phone, unlocking it quickly.  “Uh, I had a couple of ideas, but, I think one would be really funny. I’ve been seeing some comments about how you act like our grandpa sometimes, so this audio would be funny, even if it says dad.”  

You played the video, the voice filling the space around you. “I get it you’re all fatherless…I’m not, I love my dad.”  Fernando let out a chuckle as your eyes lit up at the funny sound.  

You continued, “I’d just put words over it so that it would say ‘grandfatherless’ instead.”  

“Sounds like a good plan.”  

The two of you left the cafeteria to film the segments of the video. Because of time change and wherever you were in the world, it got a bit dark while you were eating. You carefully filmed your part a couple of times before it was deemed acceptable. You guessed that Fernando had done a lot of these because he was basically a pro.

You captioned it “Honorary Gramps” and posted it with Fernando’s approval.  

Before you knew it, Max had come to get you.  

You went to leave, before turning around and jumping to give Fernando a hug. “Thanks Grandpa-Nando.”  

You stepped back to walk away with Max, who had a smirk on his face. He called back to the older man.  

“Does this mean we get to call you that?” Max bit back a laugh.

 Fernando shook his head. “Absolutely not.”  

You whacked Max on the shoulder, “Hey, that’s only reserved for Red Bull’s golden child.”  

Max had a weird look on his face. “I thought that was me?”  

You shook your head before walking past him. “You have so much to learn Maxy. Let’s go find Christian.”

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[that-ineffable-devil]

Long post incoming, but I've been on and off it for days so you're gonna see it.

On Charles and Love

I think there's a lot more to Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession than what we may first assume.

Charles loves harder than anyone, but I don't think he even knows what it means or feels like to be IN love--or to be loved back. This isn't a dig at Edwin, so don't @ me. This has to do with Charles' past.

When Edwin first confesses on the steps of Hell, Charles doesn't even hesitate with his response: "Great, love you too, can we go now?" He does love Edwin, one way or another. He hasn't needed to examine that love any further. He doesn't think Edwin could mean it that way, because Edwin probably has never given any indication of feeling that for anyone. Perhaps he didn't think Edwin capable of love in that way. Perhaps it's his own repressed sexuality. Perhaps it's the feeling that he is inherently unlovable. Perhaps it's a combination of things.

On Edwin's and Charles' Repression

Look, Edwin is clearly autistic and heavily emotionally repressed--he's British, from 1916, and male. That's the perfect storm of emotional repression. But he clearly feels and feels deeply--he just doesn't always let on about it. (Which is such a nice thing to see for autistic representation, the "unfeeling alien" trope ain't it.)

And even though they've been together for 30 years, they clearly do not talk about deep emotions much, because it makes Edwin uncomfortable and Charles probably wouldn't manage to get much out before cracking a joke instead--it's his defense mechanism.

As for his own repression, Charles grew up in the 80s as a biracial kid with an abusive father. He was also at least questionably queer while alive: he was part of an alt crowd, wore eyeliner, and wore a single dangly earring. Now that doesn't mean for certain he's queer or questioning, but it IS a pretty common code in media and storytelling. And I imagine no small part of his father's excuses for abusing Charles had to do with "beating the queer out of him." Of COURSE that led to repression--how could it not?

On Feeling Unlovable

And the feeling that he's inherently unlovable? Does he really feel that way? I think so.

He wants it. He wants to be loved so badly. And because of that, he tries so hard. He tries to stay light and happy and kind, even when he's suffering underneath--he has his own flavor of emotional repression. Because if he can't be loved, he can at least be liked.

And he doesn't just want people to like him, he needs them to like him, because he needs to know he's likable. Because there's safety in being likable. There's safety in being funny and friendly and "a good sort of chap." It's proof he's not the monster his father was--the monsters his friends were. It's his shield. The shield he uses to protect himself from the world, yes, but also to protect the world from him. Or at least, who he thinks he is, deep down.

It's also, in his mind, his only chance at being loved. His only chance at staying loved. Because love is earned. Because love is the reward for good behavior. At least, that's how it was as a kid, right? And that's all he knows. He died before he could experience any other kind of love--besides the love between himself and Edwin, which is its own complicated matter.

The other difficult aspect of growing up in a household where love and affection were weaponized and where violence is an acceptable reaction to anger, is how it radically alters your perception of love and family.

You crave the love and validation you never received, but you also fear it and don't believe it's real when it comes without strings.

You struggle to identify love in healthy relationships because if it doesn't hurt, then is it really love?

And even though you crave it more than anything, you're afraid of it. You're afraid for things to get real, because real love--or your understanding of it--is dangerous.

Because love is a weapon and you can't bear for anyone to use it against you again.

Hurt People Hurt People...Sometimes

Trauma manifests differently in each person. There are some commonalities, but it's never exactly the same. I know the saying is "hurt people hurt people" and that's not entirely wrong. But sometimes, hurt people heal people--or at least try to. Charles is in the second group.

Charles never, ever wants anyone to feel the kind of love he knew while he was alive. So he paradoxically loves openly while remaining guarded. His loyalty and devotion are unmatched. He went to Hell for Edwin. But he also never told Edwin the truth about his father until essentially forced to. Because that involves vulnerability. It involves, in his eyes, weakness. And what did vulnerability and "weakness" get him in life? Well...dead.

But he craves reciprocation. He needs to feel like he can be vulnerable, safely. I don't think that Edwin has done anything to make him feel unsafe, but being that they're both emotionally surpressed boys killed by other boys for perceived weaknesses at 16 and the lack of a ghost therapist...it's not all that surprising they haven't dealt with their issues in 30 years.

I think this is why he latches onto Crystal so quickly and easily. Firstly, she's alive: he can at least pretend to ignore his own death for a bit. Secondly, she's his age (sort of) and can see him, which is an uncommon experience at best. Thirdly, again--she's alive, so it can never last--never be real. Either she'll age beyond him, or she'll die and likely be taken to her afterlife. Which he'll happily ignore for the first two reasons.

On Types of Love

I won't get too into this, because I'm in no way an expert in the wide variety of emotions attributed to love. But I will say this: Charles died at 16.

If we set aside the possibility of him being aromantic for now (which he absolutely could be), he may never have had the chance to fall in love while he was alive. If he could even recognize it for what it was. I mean, I'm in my 30s, been married and divorced twice, and I'm still not sure I've ever been in love. At 16, you're drowning in hormones and it can be hard to decipher feelings.

On Arrested Development

If you think about it, his death and subsequent ghostly afterlife are a supernatural version of the arrested development a lot of child abuse survivors experience. But his development arrested literally--he literally CAN'T grow up. At least, not physically.

He may have had 30 years to address his issues, but why would he have thought to? He doesn't have the same responsibilities or needs as a living adult. He's constantly on the job or on the run from Death, he's living with Emotional Repression the Person (my beloved), and frankly...it hurts to examine those problems. How many adults are actively avoiding their own issues?

On the Confession

Edwin, with the most heartwrenching tone of voice since David "I would like to spend" Tennant, makes clear that he's IN love with Charles. And for a moment Charles looks like he's been walloped in the gut with an iron bar, trying to process. But then the trauma-brain kicks in.

He finds the first "logical" explanation to someone (Edwin) telling him they love him: it's a literary reference, and Edwin is...maybe not "messing" with him, but maybe being extra dramatic about this? It can't be real.

But then Edwin gets upset--he's serious about this. And Charles sort of...short-circuits. He can't process this right now, not when they're running for their afterlives. Not when the Night Mother is waiting to split them up. Not when he's barely even begun to process his trauma. So he does everything he can to make sure Edwin knows that, no matter what, he loves him. Maybe not in the same way, but with the same depth.

Because they'll have time. They'll have all the time in the world to figure out what this means. Because they certainly don't right now, and everything Edwin is saying flies directly in the face of every opinion Charles has ever held about himself.

And what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp. 

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you. 

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal. 

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means. 

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him. 

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone. 

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck. 

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it. 

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily. 

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer. 

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all. 

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?” 

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle. 

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters. 

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand. 

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald. 

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror. 

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland. 

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe. 

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake. 

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—” 

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat. 

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns. 

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.” 

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you. 

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays. 

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam. 

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place. 

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris. 

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action. 

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing. 

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them. 

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table. 

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

���What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side? 

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully. 

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed. 

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other. 

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain. 

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles. 

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

[madlori]

I'm asking this to you because you're the only person I know who's been around fandoms for so long — do you find this shipping-situation weird? I've been in many fandoms but I've never really seen this insistence on there being only one acceptable ship for a character and encouraging the idea that anything other than the norm is almost sacrilegious. Almost every big fandom over the years have had multiple conflicting pairings, take for example, Marvel. Even works of media that have a canon romantic pairing have had fans who ship others with the leads (that was what shipping was tbh) and no one has ever shown up to their doorsteps with pitchforks in hand, at least not that I'm aware of. So I guess I'd really like your opinion on why you think this is happening now? Have things always been this way, just not in plain sight? Is this just the new fandom culture that is developing now with the influx of younger people? Or is this fandom an aberration where a group of people are so used to being the majority that they simply aren't taking well to things not going their way?

I've been thinking about this today, and I'm still not sure what I think.

I've been in fandoms with a hugely dominant ship before. I've been in fandoms that had ship wars. I've been in fandoms with a lot of peacefully co-existing ships. I'm not sure this fandom is really all that different. To answer your first question, no, I don't find it all that weird. In fact I sort of expected it.

Let me tell you a story about the Brokeback Mountain fandom, which managed to have a ship war despite having really only one ship, the canon ship. So BBM fic fell into several broad categories, the biggest of which were fix-the-ending/canon divergence fics and the straight-up AU fics (I wrote one of each, lol). Post-canon fics weren't as common, because you had to deal with one half of the canon pairing being...well, dead.

There was a post-canon fic that gained a lot of fans...and when I say "fic" that's really an understatement. It was a SAGA, and I don't use that term lightly. It was a series of like...6 or 7 epic 100K+ word fics and it was over a million words total. The author would put out more than one 5K chapters per DAY. I'm still in awe of this woman's output. But it was the content that created the issue.

(Brief recap for those who have not seen BBM - two ranch hands in the 1960s, Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) spend a season herding sheep together, have sex, form a bond, then separate to go about their expected hetero lives but get together for fishing trips every year or so to have sex and spend time together. Jack wants more, Ennis is terrified. Both marry and have families. Eventually Jack dies in what is implied to be a gay-bashing but who knows, and Ennis makes his peace with the love he'd felt for him)

The saga picked up a couple of years after the film's events. Ennis decides to tentatively explore what being queer means, goes to Laramie, finds a gay bar, and very cautiously enters. Through a Series of Events he gets mixed up in an assault there and befriends a local sheriff's deputy, who is also gay. They begin a relationship.

Now, this series was COMPLEX. A huge cast of characters, a long and thorough evolution of this relationship, a lot of angst over Jack's memory, and it really worked for a LOT of readers. The new love interest she created was a really great character.

For others...it did not work and they hated it.

The animosity between fans who loved this saga and those that did not grew pretty heated. This was like '05 so there was no twitter or tumblr, this was all on LJ and dedicated fandom forums (some of which banned discussion of this fic for this reason), but there was doxxing and namecalling and real vitriol.

I guess my point in all this is that when there's strong feelings, some fans will find a way to be horrible to each other.

I was in the Sherlock fandom, another fandom 98% dominated by one ship. There were other ships, but somehow they seemed to co-exist mostly peacefully barring some snide remarks and rude comments (I could be wrong about this, if you asked someone who shipped a non-Johnlock ship they might have a different answer). No, the insanity in the Sherlock fandom was not ship-war-related.

I was also in the Criminal Minds fandom, which has a whole bunch of disparate ships and no ship wars that I can recall.

Then there are other fandoms, like Avatar, with TERRIBLE ship wars that are still going on.

I don't think the situation in 9-1-1 is as unique or different from other fandom wanks as has sometimes been asserted. I think terrible fandom wars are sort of inevitable, whether they're ship related or not. But for what it's worth, here are some of my thoughts on what's going on here.

A loooooong time (5.5 seasons) with one very dominant non-canonical queer ship. No other ship really ever approached the level of saturation or devotion of Buddie.

A pervasive belief that this ship might possibly become canon. That's a feature a lot of other ships do not have.

A lack of intense devotion to any of the other love interests. BuckTaylor was never a challenger to Buddie. Neither was Eddie and Shannon, or anybody else. It's hard to fight when there's no worthy challenger.

But now? BuckTommy is not only canon, but it has a lot of fans. It's a threat. And it's not only a threat in a feelings kind of way (as in, people like a thing that is not the thing I like and it makes me upset) but there's a perception that it's an ACTUAL threat, as in if people like this ship and promote it, it could cause it to become a permanent relationship (the degree to which fan response actually affects how the show unfolds is...debatable).

I do not personally think this is the case, but some fans strongly believe that Buddie could still happen if it weren't for BuckTommy. So if you're still wanting Buddie and believe it will or could happen, the existence of an alternate love interest represents a direct obstacle to that happening. That's a heck of an incentive to hate that competing ship. I get it.

That...might be a somewhat unique situation. There's a fight now because there's a challenger who might actually stand a chance.

This goes along with what we saw in the immediate aftermath of 7x04. I read someone else say (apologies, I don't know who it was, feel free to @ me if it was you and I'll credit you) that the early post-7x04 enthusiasm and acceptance of Tommy reflected the belief that he was temporary. A lot of folks thought it was just a way for Buck to get with Eddie, like, very soon after that. But the more time went by, the clearer it became that this was not the plan or the intention. So the mood soured for those who were still pulling for Buddie.

Other fandoms I've been in with a hugely dominant ship...Sherlock and X-Files are the two that spring immediately to mind...there was never a challenger with any legs. X-Files fandom wank was between the ship and the...lack of ship, shall we say. But a concrete, tangible "opponent" makes a fight so much more visceral, doesn't it?

I do think there's been a fandom shift towards needing ships to be canon that I don't really get, but it's there. There's been a lot written about fandom culture in the last ten years, the breakdown of boundaries between fans and creators, the access to those creators, a sense of ownership/entitlement, purity culture, obsession with shipping "correctly" (which leads into wanting things to be canon for the validation)...these are all newish features. So pile that on top of 9-1-1 having a longtime single ship that's legitimately threatened for the first time in its existence by a competing canon ship and it's kind of a powderkeg.

No wonder it's caught on fire.

[lecsainz]

PICTURES

parings: harry styles x actress!reader

request: Hey, saw u write for Harry Styles! Can u do a oneshot where y/n's parents r famous actors, she n Harry got somethin' goin' on but ain't makin' it official. He's on the Take Me Home tour when she calls him to sort things out 'cause paparazzi pics with other girls surfaced, but he didn't actually cheat.

authors note: OMG haven't written anything about harry in years, like seriously, this brought back sooo many memories 😭

☆. . . masterlist !

Y/N Aniston was the daughter of a renowned actress, yes, Jennifer Aniston herself. She grew up with the media at her feet, and just like her mother, she chose to follow a career in acting. Little did she know that due to her fame, she would end up meeting a singer from one of the biggest boy bands of 2013, who would bring her a lot of headaches.

Harry and Y/N crossed paths during the VMAs, in line for the bathroom. They don't remember when exactly, but at some point during the night, they found themselves in her limousine, having a quickie. However, that quick encounter became a regular thing whenever they met up.

And Y/N developed feelings for the green-eyed boy. She liked him a lot. Maybe she even loved him.

Harry had embarked on the Take Me Home tour, and some photos of him with other girls had been taken by paparazzi. Even though they weren't officially an item, her heart shattered nonetheless. Those pictures felt like daggers to her heart, and they hurt like hell.

And here she was, sitting on her bed, heart almost racing out of her chest, waiting for Harry to appear on the screen.

"Y/N!" Harry's face popped up on the screen, lying on the tour bus bed with a sleepy yet adoring smile.

She managed a small smile, her nerves getting the best of her. "Hey, Harry."

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. "Missed you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Despite everything, the sound of those three simple words from him still had a powerful effect on her.

"Missed you too," she admitted, her voice soft.

They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always did between them. But as the minutes ticked by, Y/N knew she couldn't avoid the elephant in the room any longer.

"Harry, about those pictures..." she trailed off, her heart racing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, I'm so sorry you had to see those."

She looked down, feeling a mix of emotions. "It's just... hard, you know?"

Harry's expression softened. "I know, love. They're not what they seem."

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, they're not real," he confessed, his voice earnest. "It's all a publicity stunt, arranged by Simon."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"

"He wants to maintain that image, make me appear as the 'ladies' man' for the fans," Harry explained, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's all a facade. I hate it."

Y/N felt a mix of relief and anger. Relief that the pictures weren't real, and anger that she had been hurt by something so manufactured.

"I had no idea," she admitted, her voice softer now.

Harry's eyes bore into hers. "Y/N, you know I care about you, right?"

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I do."

"I'm not looking for meaningless flings, Y/N," he said, his voice determined. "I want something real."

She felt her heart race, hope stirring within her. "Harry..."

Just then, the atmosphere on the tour bus shifted as the other members of One Direction appeared on the screen, grinning widely.

"Hey, is that Y/N?" Niall's voice chimed in.

"Y/N!" Louis exclaimed, waving enthusiastically.

“Our favorite girl!" Zayn added.

Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with fondness for the boys. "Hi, guys! I miss you all."

"We miss you too!" Niall exclaimed.

Y/N's cheeks turned slightly pink as she greeted the rest of the band. She had known them for a while now, having met them through Harry. They had always been incredibly welcoming and friendly towards her.

"Long time no see," Liam said with a warm smile. "How've you been?"

Y/N chuckled. "Oh, you know, just taking over the world."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "As if she hasn't already."

Zayn smirked. "You're in good company, Y/N."

Niall leaned in closer to the camera. "Harry talks about you all the time."

Y/N shot Harry a teasing look. "Oh, really? What kind of things does he say?"

Harry's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Just good things."

Louis wiggled his eyebrows. "We can all tell he's smitten."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the guys. She had seen them at their goofiest and most genuine moments, and she was grateful for the bond they shared.

"Well, Y/N, if Harry doesn't treat you right, you know where to find us," Zayn said with a wink.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Zayn. I'll keep that in mind."

"We saw those pictures, by the way," Louis said, his tone slightly teasing.

Y/N's cheeks flushed, but she managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I guess they're making quite a buzz."

Niall rolled his eyes. "Don't take those too seriously. They're just playing with ya."

"Yeah, Simon probably thought it was good for marketing," Liam added.

Zayn nodded. "It's all part of the game."

Y/N let out a sigh of relief, feeling their genuine support. "Thanks, guys. It's just been a bit overwhelming."

"We know, love," Louis said, his eyes softening. "But remember, you're stronger than the headlines."

Zayn chimed in. "Harry's been a mess ever since those pictures surfaced."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, he's been moping around like a lost puppy."

Y/N's lips curved into a grateful smile. "Thanks, guys. Your words mean a lot to me."

"Anytime, Y/N," Niall grinned. "Now, you make sure to keep our Harry in line, okay?"

Zayn chuckled. "Yeah, we can't have him causing any more trouble."

Harry pouted playfully. "Hey, I'm a changed man."

"Sure you are," Louis quipped, earning a laugh from everyone.

Harry leaned closer to the camera, his voice soft. "They adore you, you know."

Y/N's smile grew warmer. "I can tell. And I adore them too."

The connection was beginning to falter, the image on the screen slightly pixelated as Harry's voice crackled. "I wish I could hear your laugh properly right now."

Y/N chuckled, the sound distorted by the poor signal. "We'll have to fix that soon."

Harry's expression turned more serious. "Y/N, I've been thinking... I want to talk about this face-to-face. This distance between us, it's not fair."

Her heart skipped a beat, hope and apprehension mingling in her chest. "Harry..."

"I mean it," he said with determination. "I want to have an honest conversation, in person. No screens, no miles between us."

Y/N nodded, her own resolve strengthening. "Okay, Harry. When?"

"I'll be back in a few weeks," he replied. "After this leg of the tour. We can find a place to meet up."

She felt a mixture of emotions, excitement and nerves intermingling. "I look forward to it."

"I do too," Harry said softly. "I want us to have a proper conversation, Y/N. No misunderstandings, no miscommunications."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with anticipation. "I want that too."

As the signal continued to weaken, Harry's voice grew fainter. "I'll see you soon, Y/N."

"Can't wait," she whispered, her voice barely reaching him.

And then, with a final wave and a promise in their eyes, the call disconnected, leaving Y/N with a renewed sense of hope and a countdown to the day when they would bridge the physical and emotional distance that had grown between them.

[skelliko]

★- Tokyo revengers

- reacting to you distancing yourself due to mental health without a warning

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji

 ♡--- I didn't mean to make kazutora's longer than the others but oh well 🏃🏻‍♀️ doesn't help that he's a little 'toxic' too but it's okay we love kazutora

°- kazutora hanemiya

• boy needs to hear from you all the time (not every minute or hour but just enough to know you still love him) so being distant for a small break from reality is hardly a good option

•though if he ignores your messages it's okay, but if it's the other way then it's a big no no for him

• however if you do manage to not respond to his messages the whole day he'd go through waves of emotions and overthink everything

• he doesn't want to admit it nor will he ever but kazutora is very emotional

• he wouldn't spam your messages since he doesn't want to be perceived as needy or too clingy but he does try to send a few messages and wait it out to see how long you'd respond, in which you didn't

• he saw you active on other social media platforms which hurt him even more

• he'd call you once before dropping it and start to play back recent encounters and conversations to see where either he or you went wrong but couldn't find anything that he'd find wrong about himself so he'd blame you even though he couldn't find any bad reason about you either

• he would do the same to you as karma, however instead of a day it'd be two days

• 'if you go low, I go lower'

• he'd ignore you in any possible way and despite his clinginess he's actually pretty good at the silent treatment,

• in public he'd walk past you without a glance and had your messages and calls on mute but he would still check his socials to see if you did message, he Just wouldn't open them

• once he finally stopped ignoring you he pressed on your contacts to see what you had to say and it took him a good minute for your reason to click in causing his heart to drop, it full on sank to the pits of earth

• reading your message about your mental health and how you needed time for yourself for a little while made him feel a little selfish for feeling better about why you were isolating yourself from him (you isolated yourself from everyone not just him tho)

• however he then soon grew a little mad for not giving him a heads up, he could have understood and even try to help you in any way he would let himself to

• he'd unintentionally make you feel guilty, if anything it'd almost seem like he was trying to make you feel guilty for it but his questions were honest

• "why didn't you tell me you were in a mad mood instead of ignoring me? I could have helped you, you made me think I did something bad" / "did you not trust me enough?"

• for all this to be sorted out of course you guys met up and talked it out, you gave him your reasonings and in the end all was forgiven (not entirely on kazutora's part but you didn't know)

• "don't do that again, tell me how you feel, tell me your thoughts and I'll listen, don't shut me out like that again"

• at the end of it all he finally accepted it and showed his clinginess and would cling to you till he left, holding you close to him by linking arms or him having an arm around your shoulders and he wouldn't let go at all

• he'd tell you things that he wanted to say for the past 3 days of you both being apart

• deep down he slowly took your situation into heart and felt bad for ignoring you for two days and pleaded for your forgiveness

°- chifuyu matsuno

• he'd notice immediately if something was off even if it's on text

• he knows you're ignoring him since he also sees you being active on other socials but he doesn't know why and that's what's annoying him,

• he may or may not have (definitely has) flicked through his romance manga to try and understand you even without a clear direction

• he'd give you space but would occasionally message and even try and call you but made sure not to spam you

• "hey are you okay?" "do you wanna talk?" "if you need some space I'll give you some but please let me know if your okay or if I did something bad"

• poor boy would be stressing and try to ignore the small situation by riding his motorbike or hanging out with his friends but you'd be out of his mind and then back in after just 5 minutes,

• he debated on going to your door and see you in person but wasn't sure if that was the way to go, he told his friends about the little situation and they were all suggesting different things and half of them weren't even good advice so he didn't do anything

• despite the ignoring and isolation on your part he still sent a 'good night <3' text in hopes of maybe then you'd reply

• it took longer for him to fall asleep than usual

• in the morning he woke up and the first thing he had on his mind was you, immediately checking his phone for your notification

• the second he checked his phone and saw your notifications he hesitated slightly in opening them, his heart was beating rapidly and he was nervous as to see what you'd say, hoping that you weren't mad at him

• though when he saw your reasoning and your apology for ignoring him he understood very well but he also mentally kicked himself for not going to you in person because maybe he could have helped

• he'd make sure and ask if you're okay and would even come to you in person even if he did wake up not that long ago

• he'd listen to your words carefully and keep you close to him, his warmth was definitely something you missed in your short isolation. even if it were for a day and even if you both wouldn't have met up, his warmth was certainly needed and appreciated in this moment.

• he'd ask you what you did in your time out of curiosity and if you're feeling better than before, and if not then he'd make sure to make you feel better by staying close to you and keeping you company

°- Baji Keisuke

• it would take half of the day to notice your quietness before he got concerned by it

• he'd send you a message and brush it off if you haven't seen it immediately or even after an hour thinking you're still asleep or busy but as the time went on by and more of his messages got unanswered he worried

• he'd be out with his gang and check his phone almost every minute for you, which certainly wouldn't go unnoticed by his friends

• he'd think that he did something wrong for you to ignore him and he'd be deep in thought whilst scrolling through your past messages and photos trying to remember any missing detail that he missed that could have caused this

• once his friends pointed that out to him Baji got up and left "I have to go"

• if he wouldn't have left then he might have punched a random person in the face to let loose a little from the nervous thoughts in his mind

• he would without a warning show up by your door and the first thing he'll say is "why are you ignoring me?"

• he wouldn't say it harshly but a bit more casually and curiously, though he was a bit hurt by it as well and tried to hide that

• you had your quietness for half of the day

• though after a longer look at your current state and expression you didn't even need to say anything for him to understand and he took you into a hug that you accepted very quickly

• "you shouldn't have to hide away like this"

• Baji would make you tell him what happened and how you feel while keeping you close to him and running his fingers through your hair

• he'd be understanding of it but would make sure that you could always go to him

• "promise me you won't ignore me like that again" he'd lowly and softly say

• he'd stay with you for the rest of the day in each others arms

☆ ----

[hyuuukais]

ੈ♡˳˚ ｡˚you are in love (1.7k)

→♡idol!bang chan x reader

→♡pov: u fall in love with bang chan

→♡warnings: a couple swears, food mention, a bit of description of panic

one look, dark room, meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back.

it felt like a million years ago, the first time you met. at an afterparty of sorts, still unsure why you were invited. ah, right, you weren't- a friend convinced you to be their plus one. you were so grateful for that now.

he approached you confidently, handing you a cold drink when you said you were getting too warm, leading you to a quiet area when it all got to be too much. his hands rubbing cooling circles into your back, soft words reassuring. inside you were freaking out because no way was this happening.

bang chan of stay kids was in here calming you down instead of talking to people equally as famous- you, who other than a fan account and private instragram, had barely any social media presence. in this moment he chose being with you over being with his members.

and that led to so much more than you could have ever expected.

small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects the chain on your neck. he says, "look up", and your shoulders brush.

you grew close quickly, finding you were a lot more similar than you thought. of course, you'd joked about being the chan between your friends, but that was based on what you as a fan got to see. now, the real chan; he was everything and more.

sneaking out of the dorms one chilly night, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, he takes you out to an open field outside of the city. when he parks, you get out and run around to the trunk to open it up and sit inside.

"wait for me!" he shouts, closing his door and chuckling. "you're so impatient."

"i wanna see the stars! they're so hard to see in the city 'cause of the light pollution." you gaze up, sky reflecting in your pupils. chan takes the edge of the blanket, wrapping the other half around him. your shoulders bump. "it's so beautiful."

he's thinking, not as beautiful as you.

he says, "look up, there's venus."

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you. you can feel it on the way home, way home, you. you can see it with the lights out, lights out-

everyone around you can see it; in the small touches and soft glances, in the homecooked meals and teasing, in your eyes and in his.

only you two stay oblivious to it, even when his laugh makes your heart beat faster, your cheeks redder. hearing it is music to your ears. seeing him smile is a prize, and you're the winner.

you are in love, true love.

the first time he almost kisses you, it leaves you thinking about it for days.

it was after a particularly amazing concert and you were backstage cheering the boys on. one perk of being best friends with the bang chan of stray kids? having tickets to every concert you wished to go to. he runs down the steps wiping his face with a towel someone hands him, spotting you a minute later, a huge smile breaking out on his face.

"god, did you see that? what am i saying- of course you did." he throws his arms around you. "uuuughh, that was the best show ever!"

"i love how passionate you are," you say, voice hoarse from singing along. "it's like your true self comes out up there. really amazing to watch."

"it's cause i knew you were back here the whole time."

"no it's not-"

"yes!" he pulls back from you. "well, maybe not the whole reason. you know, the kids too, and stay, but you're one of the reasons. do you know how much motivation you give me? so much."

you can't help the blush that spreads over your face, hiding it in his chest. his words mean a lot to you, more than you want to admit even to yourself. behind you, you can hear some of the boys teasing chan.

"let's go to the back," he pulls away completely, save for his hand in yours leading you to the tables of food. "but first, grab some food. we both need to eat."

each of you pile food onto a plate, slipping away to an empty dressing room. there are things everywhere, makeup, clothes; you sit on the empty couch by the door. chan joins you, leaning his head on your shoulder with a sigh. you turn your head, pressing your lips and nose into his hair. moments like these are precious to you, nothing crazy, just the two of you together.

chan sets his half empty plate down, and you follow his action. he then leans back mostly onto the couch with his neck resting on the arm. something impulsive jumps in you, crawling over his body.

surprised, he looks up at you, but you just lay down. a hand comes up to play with your hair, head resting right under his chin. his fingers come down slightly to outline your jaw, pausing at your ear to tuck your hair behind it. that hand lays entangled, the other lightly pushing your chin up to look at him. chan looks at you strangely, lips parted, face ever so slightly closer to yours.

what he wants to do is kiss you, but what he does instead is nearly knock you to the floor as the boys come into the room loudly laughing with each other.

one step, not much, but it said enough.

while the weather is cooling, but not too cold, you take a stroll together. it's just down the road and back, not risking straying too far from the building while chan is supposed to be working. you both took precautions to cover up, not wanting to run into anyone, wanting to enjoy another moment of peace together. however, that was not what happened.

"oh my god! oh my god! are you bang chan? i love stray kids!"

the grip chan has on your hand tightens, turning to face the girls coming up to him and blocking you with his body. they gush over chan, asking for autographs and photos. it takes them a while to notice you- to notice your hands.

"holy shit, look," the first girl notices. "is that your partner?" she jumps back and forth to address you guys. "ugh, i'm so jealous. i thought stay was your one true love... do you even know how lucky you are?"

a second girl starts, "i bet she's just using him-"

"hey!" chan speaks up without thinking, regaining his composure before continuing. "if they are my partner, that's not your concern. respectfully, leave us alone to finish our walk, thank you."

the girls protest, chan putting his arm around your shoulder and turning away from them. you didn't realize how fast your heart is beating or the way your palms started to sweat, eyes starting to sting. he brings you back inside, back up to the studio, and sits you down. you're frozen- you've never experienced anything like that during your whole friendship, up until now. carefully, chan helps you out of your layers of clothes, wrapping a blanket around you and bringing you into his arms.

"i'm so sorry."

finally, your voice finds you. "what? chan, no. don't be."

"you shouldn't have had to hear that-"

"i've heard worse probably," you look at him sadly, hands cupping his cheeks. "besides, i run a fan account, i'm no stranger to hate."

he's about to argue more, but you place a finger over his lips. they're soft, pink, plush. all he does is look at you and everything unwraps-

one night he wakes, strange look on his face.

on one of the many usually sleepless sleepovers you have, chan turns over in his bed to face you. by some miracle, you are asleep. he managed to rest a bit, but his mind is too focused on the body next to him. it wasn't unusual to share a bed; cuddling was no stranger. something about tonight is different though. maybe it was the way the moonlight peeks through, highlighting your features, or the way your chest rises and falls slowly, deeply, or maybe it's the way he realizes something.

something everyone already knew.

he is in love.

the thought alone makes his breath catch. of course he's in love! how could someone not fall in love with you? you, who is always so caring. you, who always knows what to say. you, who makes him feel so loved, so whole.

even though you look so peaceful, he can't wait any longer to confess-

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you-

"hey," he nudges you, you groan. "baby, i need to tell you something."

your eyes peel open, hand rubbing the sleep away. "what time is it?"

"four."

"fuck, chan."

"i know, but it can't wait."

you can feel it on the way home, way home, you-

this worries you into sitting up. "what's wrong?"

"nothing, nothing's wrong." he pushes himself up, leaning against the headboard. your arms touch in the dark. "in fact, everything is amazing."

"so i can go back to sleep-"

"no," he laughs and you smile at the sound. "listen."

you can see it with the lights out, lights out.

"baby... you are the light of my life. everything in my life has only gotten better since meeting you and, well-" he looks away for a moment. when he looks back, he puts a hand over yours gently. "i think- no, i know i've fallen in love with you." shock, that's what you feel. "don't feel pressured to say anything yet! i know it's a lot-"

you don't even register your body moving until you're on top of him, hands on his neck, face close. his breathing picks up and he thinks of that moment many moons ago, when he was going to kiss you.

there's nothing to interrupt him now.

you are in love, true love-

lips against yours, you understand fireworks. bodies mold into one, hands all over. yours are in his hair, one of his on your hip and the other on your neck, pulling you closer to him if that's possible. you only stop when you can no longer breathe.

"chan," he's all flushed, a wide smile slowly making it's way out. "i love you too, so much. so, so much."

and he leans in again.

you are in love.

nothing else compares to the feeling of being with him.

nothing can even compete.

-

notes ♡ happiest birthday to my baaaaaby @ashitshowforalot bc like tachi i cannot see u physically either but still wanted to gift u something. i really hope u enjoyed :3 i love you so so soooo much like so much you have no idea. have the best day mon amour <3 je t'aime beaucoup 💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗

-> taglist ♡ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143