#I GET CRUMBS NOWADAYS PEOPLE. CRUMBS.

[sebson]

got so nervous scrolling through that post but he had to do it!!! he had to make it dramatic and wait until the last pic!!!!!! big day for sebson dot tumblr dot com

[hoodieimp]

Fixating on the Addisons is so fucking funny when you think about it. Like wow we really went and blorbo-ified the Concept of Online Advertising as a gay friend group-slash-polycule

[6ftslug]

cool so if you guys are going to blatantly ignore my art can you at least tell me what sucks so hard about it. instead of completely wasting my time.

why are you even here?

[cherry-leclerc]

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 

“September 4, 2022.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

-

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

-

“She really said that?” 

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

-

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does. 

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

-

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 

“R-right—her.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

-

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 

-

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 

“Are those your panties?”

-

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

-

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 

-

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” 

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

-

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

-

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

-

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

 “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.” 

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

“Maybe, but who cares?” 

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms. 

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

-

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 

 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

-

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[heraxic]

Hello :o

I just wanted to say thank you (and also thank crumb) for getting me back into thinking about Karl Heisenberg 24/7.

I really love your artstyle, from the amazing expressions (especially the peeved/angry ones) to the scribbly lineart. As someone that’s trying to learn to draw more digitally, I really like to observe your stuff o.o

Your Moldy Family comics are funny, cozy, sweet and comforting all at the same time, and they made me discover and appreciate Eveline (oh man I love how much of a goth tween she is), and the way you draw Heisenberg (his physicality if that makes sense, his clothes, his hair, his everything) is just *chef’s kiss*.

As a former Greek Mythology child, that AU is so so nice owagh. I love all the monster adaptations/designs, it’s all so clever: I love that Kyril is scaley, hairy AND has wings (which I feel aren’t depicted often nowadays with gorgons), Alina is so majestic, with the black tipped limbs and the blood soaked dress, and the daughters being harpies/sirens(?) is also so perfect.

Idk if you’ve already said it, but what is it about Karl’s character that made him interesting to you?

I hope it makes sense (I’m a bit tired) and thank you again for the excellent food :]

Thank you so much!!!<<<3333

he lives in my head rent free…. his crusty-ass hair and barrel-shaped bod gets me every time

im glad you like my scribbly lineart! I tend to get concerned whether it really looks like anything haha

I miss drawing the mold family but i think my forte has always been fantasy, especially cause i love mythology more than anything. That’s not to say i wont go back to the modern mold family though

For greek au karl i wanted him to look like someone had haphazardly stuck animal parts to him so it’d look deliberately unnatural for him to have a relatively normal human body under all that-

I’m not sure i can fully describe why Karl is so interesting. Surface level, being voiced by Neil Newbon is always a big plus and his face model Joel Hicks is awesome-looking. His character design matches his abilities and personality really well, and speaking of personality, queer-coded villains who make a big show out of everything are always going to be my favourite. His gritty, masculine aesthetic is really inspiring in terms of gender as well. On a deeper level, in spite of all the terrible things he’s done, i find him sympathetic and relatable. After decades spent in a highly dysfunctional family, not living on his own terms, completely alone, I need him to finally be okay and get better for his own sake, with the support of people he trusts. It’s the same reason i love Eveline. Morally dark-grey characters who deserved better and could’ve gotten better with a good support system.

[ickadori]

crying because whenever i go to the club i dont get to skip the line, but when my pretty friends come we get in immediately 💀 i would have the fffffattest unrequited crush on sukuna and he would just be fucking all my pretty friends, thats why i like the characters like yuji, yuta, and choso 😭

personally, if that happened to me, i would have shot the club up, but that’s just me 🤷🏼

sukuna is…sukuna is such a bastard. i hate that irredeemable man!! unrequited crush on sukuna is nasty work.

because he would 100% know that you have a crush on him!! crushes aren’t new to him, he’s been getting googly eyes, shy glances, giggles, and love confessions ever since primary school, he can spot a person with crush miles away.

he probably thinks it’s funny how dejected you look when he purposefully flirts with your friends, might even order a round of drinks for them, conveniently forgetting that you’re a part of their little group, too. he stands back and watches you frown and sigh and sink down into your seat, likely already used to this kind of treatment when you go out with your friends.

you’re not ugly, you just have a habit of attracting friends that completely overshadow you, it happens. not to him though, heh.

when he spots you standing in line with your girls, pulling at this and tugging at that, primping here and there, he always has to bite back a grin and swallow a laugh. you’re all dolled up. you always are, it’s one of those shitty fancy clubs after all, but he can tell you’ve put in extra effort today.

your usual fly-aways are smoothed down, eyebrows tweezed or waxed or whatever hell people do nowadays, lashes curled and lips plump, and you’re showing more skin than you ever had. you’re getting looks from the other guys in line -you always do, but you never seem to notice it. probably because you’re always watching him like a hawk- and two of them have already tried to strike up a conversation with you.

well those fucks aren’t getting in here tonight.

he figures he should give you something, half of a crumb to keep your attention and in turn keep his monthly amusement, and when you finally reach the front of the line, he gives you the eye contact you’ve been itching for since you left the house tonight.

“you ladies back again? ‘m starting to think that you’re just coming here to see me.” a lazy smirk settles on his face, and he keeps his gaze on you as he speaks, not able to keep the laugh at bay as he watches you flounder over your words.

one of your friends speaks up, and he can’t be bothered to pay it any attention, not when you look like you’re ready to combust already. “you look different,” he says and gives a faux quizzical look. “you change your hair?”

“oh! u-uh, yeah, i did!” you blurt out how you had styled it that night, and how hard it had been to get it just right, and how you weren’t too sure about it, and fuck you just didn’t know when to stop, did you?

“i like it - suits you.”

you stop mid sentence.

he gives you a slow once over and grins again.

“well, you have fun tonight, gorgeous.”

[ao3-top-batfam-ships-bracket]

Anon wants sources? Here:

https://slate.com/culture/2016/04/the-history-of-the-gay-subtext-of-batman-and-robin.html

This is why many people have historically shipped them together. When you don’t have any representation at all in the media, when your existence is reviled and you can’t even legally live your life peacefully, you take what you can get.

I don’t think young people understand how gay life was back then. Adult adoptions between couples were not uncommon-and no, it wasn’t always a man preying on someone 20 years younger than him. Couples 3 years apart were adopting each other because that was the only way to let your partner inherit your estate, to visit you in the hospital, to legally be family. It wasn’t a kink, it was a safety net. Is it so hard to understand then, why people would look at Batman and Robin, and see parallels? Especially in a visual medium, where images can say or imply things that would not be written out in a book? Especially in comics, where everyone is so overly muscled that Robin often doesn’t look or act like a kid, or even a teenager?

It’s okay not to ship them. I don’t ship them. Shipping has ALWAYS been about grabbing crumbs of subtext and implied tension regardless of what the canon source says. Roddenberry didn’t intend for people to ship Kirk and Spock. Spirk fanworks were literally hidden under tables at conventions and people would sit under the tables to browse and exchange things. Nowadays it’s not illegal to produce gay media. But at the height of gay panic, when discrimination was not only tacitly legal, but done by the laws themselves, and the only gay people in media, though few, were either villains or played off as a joke, is it so hard to understand why people would look at some of those runs, and put two fictional people in a relationship?

(At the very least, just use the back button and the mute button and move on instead of playing purity police over something that’s not real. )

Thank you for your thoughts! We recommend checking out the linked article.

We've also found some more articles and book chapters on this subject that people might appreciate:

Chapter "Panic and Aftermath" from Glen Weldon's "The Caped Crusade: Batman and the Rise of Nerd Culture".

Chapter "1954: Censorship and Queer Readings" from Will Brooker's "Batman Unmasked: Analyzing a Cultural Icon".

Chapter "Batman, Deviance and Camp" by Andy Medhurts from the book "The Many Lives of the Batman. Critical Approaches to a Superhero and his Media".

Shyminsky, N. (2011). ‘‘Gay’’ Sidekicks: Queer Anxiety and the Narrative Straightening of the Superhero. Men and Masculinities, 14(3), 288-308.

Lang, R. (1990). Batman and Robin: A family romance. American imago, 47(3/4), 293-319.

York, C. (2000). All in the Family: Homophobia and Batman Comics in the 1950s. International Journal of Comic Art, 2(2), 100-110.

Best, M. (2005). Domesticity, homosociality, and male power in superhero comics of the 1950s. Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies, 6(1).

This article from 2005: "Gallery told to drop 'gay' Batman. DC Comics has ordered a New York gallery to remove pictures which show Batman and Robin kissing and embracing." http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/4167032.stm

This article from 2012: "Batman can't come out as gay – his character relies on him being in denial" by Will Brooker. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2012/may/28/batman-gay-character-relies-denial

And this sketch:

[nitw]

god the gravity falls hyperfix really is back. its too bad ive spent the last 12 years eating up every crumb of content about it i could find and there's like no new people getting into it nowadays so there's basically no videos about it i haven't already watched

[markantonys]

i'd watched the first 2 episodes of ROP s1 when they first came out, but i found them boring and so didn't continue. however, i've been hearing that charlie vickers is eating and leaving no crumbs in the new season, and that is my sweet boy guglielmo pazzi from i medici (2019) and i've Got to see him killing it in a huge role, i'm so proud of him!!! always a delight when a previously-unknown actor from an obscure show you love ends up making it big

so i decided to give it another shot and dove straight into 1x03 after reading a summary of the first 2 eps to refresh my memory, and idk if 1x03 really is that much more interesting than 1&2 or if it's just that i happen to be in a different frame of mind now that's more predisposed to getting interested in this show, but WOW i am loving it!! i'm an extremely casual LOTR fan (in fact i wouldn't even rightfully call myself a fan, more just "i've watched the movies a few times and like them" haha) and so whatever complaints the fans have about ROP obviously are not things that bother me. i'm just here for a good time, and i'm having one!

the galadriel & halbrand plotline is definitely my favorite (heck, if the numenor stuff had arrived in ep2 instead of 3 i might've been on board with the show the first time around). i already know he's sauron, of course, so i was like "i won't get attached to halbrand since he's not a real person, just sauron's disguise" but fuck, i'm attached, and it hurts!!!!! loving a character who starts out good and turns to the dark is one type of pain, but loving a character who was never real at all because they were evil the whole time and this "character" was never anything more than a facade - it's an entirely different and perhaps even worse type of pain! i can't even soothe myself imagining an AU where halbrand never turned evil, because halbrand was never real! genuinely in immense anguish over this. but once i reach s2 and get to the Unabashedly Evil Sauron Era, it'll be so sexy that i might immediately go "oh no! anyway" and forget all about my anguish jdkjfg

............wait a moment. do i now know how show!rand must be feeling post-s2? attached to someone who was never real because they were always just an evil person's fake persona? oh rand honey i'm even sorrier for you now!

speaking of WOT, it really has broken my brain because i try to polyship everything all the time nowadays. why did i go "wake up babe new polycule just dropped" during that scene when galadriel, halbrand, and miriel had a meeting lmao girl you KNOW this bitch is sauron! but i already knew people were shipping him and galadriel, so i went in to my new watch expecting to see the vibes, and indeed seeing them, and i ALSO unexpectedly saw vibes for galadriel and miriel (two leaders overburdened by duty, oh it's my kryptonite), so how can i help creating a polycule? oh well, i'll enjoy it while it lasts and then once galadriel finds out he's sauron i will instead get some angst to enjoy! and she will still have her girlfriend to comfort her (as long as nothing happens to miriel.........i haven't heard any spoilers about her, so we shall see!)

back to halbrand, the "he's the lost king of the southlands" idea is such a clever misdirect because it allows halbrand to demonstrate unusual skills in combat/diplomacy/manipulation that we wouldn't expect a seeming peasant to have, but provides a cover for it and so we think this one "identity reveal" is all there is to it, and aren't suspecting a second, bigger identity reveal! and actually, as far as i can remember, he never actually confirms that he's the lost king, he just plants a clue to lead galadriel to believe it and then responds to her assumptions in ways that seem to confirm them but don't actually. very aes sedai of him! and hey, if the southlands used to serve sauron, wouldn't it technically be accurate for him to be considered their lost king? very aes sedai of him x2. liars who lie without technically lying are the best kind (gen from the queen's thief also). anyway, because of this misdirect, i don't think i'd be suspecting him of being sauron at all at this point if i didn't already know. on the other hand, there aren't really any other sauron candidates except adar who clearly isn't him. but back to the first hand, the show never set up a "one of our major characters is sauron, who is it?" mystery so i might just be assuming he was hanging out offscreen yet to show up, if i didn't already know.

i'm enjoying the other plotlines too! i remember feeling that the hobbits & the stranger plotline was the weakest link in the first 2 eps, but totally changed my tune now, nori and the stranger (who i'm guessing is gandalf, but i'm not sure, so don't tell me if you know) have the most wholesome friendship, i could die!!

or rather, the second most wholesome friendship after elrond and durin, which i remember was my favorite storyline the first time around. they are so pure!! and disa is a delight! she and elrond have impeccable sibling-spouse energy (yes we've got another polyship in the house, of course we do)

i'm trying not to get too attached to bronwyn because i know they kill her off between seasons due to the actress leaving the show, but i really like her :(( her son's kinda annoying, but he's an angsty teen, so i can't hold it against him. and arondir!! what a man, i'm swooning constantly over everything he says and does. i really like how in the most recent episode i watched they had a Good Guy (bronwyn) genuinely consider giving up her principles of honor and going to swear fealty to the bad guys in order to survive, it feels more realistic and it really sells us on just how desperate and hopeless the situation is (and on how sauron is able to get supporters by creating such situations).

it's also a visually gorgeous show, very decadent (i was practically drooling the first time they showed numenor haha i love white stone seaside cities, and the ancient greek aesthetic vibes are the cherry on top!), and the MUSIC!!!!! you guys know i'm a tv soundtrack fanatic, and my god, this is the best tv soundtrack i've heard in a LONG time. i'd put it as second to WOT because it's traditional fantasy orchestra whereas WOT's soundscape is so different and unique. but "traditional fantasy orchestra" isn't a knock here, because it's done INCREDIBLY well, so it does feel unique instead of generic like other, lesser Traditional Fantasy Orchestra soundtracks do. it's sumptuous, it's lush, it's rich, it's got very distinctive Themes for each character/location that always play in the appropriate contexts (which is one of my favorite aspects of WOT's soundtrack too). i'd been listening to the s1 soundtrack for quite a while before now, so i'm well-primed to recognize all the different themes!

my favorite has gotta be the halbrand theme, i have a character in my WIP who's a sad mountain prince (and a gawyn knockoff <3) and this theme just reminds me sooooo much of him, i cry. but if we dispense with the halbrand pretense after s1, we might not get to hear this theme anymore!!!! it's also the southlands theme, though, so hopefully we'll keep it, and i did hear it crop up briefly in a track from the s2 album. also, shoutout to the fact that the halbrand melody is an inverse of the sauron melody, bear mccreary you son of a gun (the sauron theme is another one of my favorites, the first time i heard it i assumed it was his theme from the original movies because it just had the feel of an Iconic Villain Theme, but no, it's new to ROP!)

anyway! i've watched up through 1x05 now. pacing's definitely still a bit slow, but i'm enjoying it nonetheless, and it's picking up now that galadriel & co are headed for the southlands. and i've heard that s2 is a big step up in many respects (a la WOT s2), so i'm excited to get there!

[georgiapeach30513]

Chris Social media looks so dry. Has it always been like this? I understand why people would unfollow, people today need content badly to back to back but not too often so as to not get boring but just enough to keep them thirsting for me. Folks loose interest rapidly nowadays. Only celebrity who has mastered that is Bey, I think.

It hasn’t always been like this. Once upon a time in a far off land he showed us videos, and we got updates on Dodger, played the piano, gave us thirst traps, and once way too much 👀, he announced his projects, showed behind the scenes moments, and it was used for more than just business purposes. Then one day in June 2023 he deactivated his account and last November he returned to instagram after a few month hiatus and started deleting posts. And deleted more. And deleted more. And deleted more. I can’t recall the last count, but I’m sure it was over 100 deleted posts. Alas now we get crumbs. And we hold out our bowls, and ask for just a little bit more, and he said, “No” 😌

[bwbawa]

hello, so I'm questioning if I'm autistic so i can reach out for a diagnosis maybe, and i saw another person do this so i wanted to try it out

i wrote a list of some of the things i think that are autistic traits about me and if anyone would like to please read them and tell me if they could be autism or maybe smth else? lol, just as a big favour really. I'll give more context if any is needed, thanks so much!!

also please reblog for reach if you want to, thank you

ts bellow the cut :]

- stimming ( twirling and braiding hair, used to suck on my own hair as a kid, rocking back and forth, doing ??? weird stuff with ny mouth and fingers lol, moving legs a lot)

- echolalia; internal, repeating phrases and songs on my head, but also doing sounds with my mouth

- always feeling like an outsider. This wasn't bad for me as a kid since i was very into creepypastas and media related to being an outcast, i never related it to something bad until adolescence which im still in, and I'm more insecure now about it.

- also, very extroverted as a kid, didn't get social cues and was offensive sometimes

- couldn't and still can't control my strength very well ( sometimes things fall out of my hands or i touch someone harder than i wanted to)

- sensitive skin, to heat cold and pain

- very talkative, as a baby was LITERALLY born babbling

- not good at eye contact, either do way too much or way too little

- terrible at maths (jst not logical to me??? dk how people find them logical )

- kinda restrictive interests but no special interests

- very picky as a child, fav foods were salted noodles with ketchup or by themselves. ( still can't stand some foods and mixing some foods together )

- horrible coordination and balance: didn't learn to tie my shoes correctly, how to ride a bike or how to swim, i bought wheelies and cant use them because my balance is horrible, i run weird (like a baby kind of) and I'm always stumbling on my own feet

- again, didn't learn some stuff until grown: didn't know how to shower correctly or make my bed ( could be due to being very taken care of as a kid, aka my mom didn't let me do stuff by myself )

- terrible spacial awareness: again, stumbling with my own feet, waddling like a penguin when i walk with my friends lol

- bad perception of time

- got upset when things didn't go my way

- ran away when kids were being too loud but didn't mind big performances loud spaces

loud THUDS or sudden noises however startle me, scare me and stress me out: was and still am kind of afraid of balloons, shouting people and loud thuds. As a baby i cried when someone spoke too loudly

- lately I'm much more sensitive to stimuli than i was, could be due to heightened stress in my life: badly done beds make me want to cry, crumbs on the bed feel like hell, heat and sweating are hell, some months ago i cried because my sunglasses and headphones weren't working and there were too many sounds, my head it hurted and everything felt wrong, sent me into a kind of crisis.

- don't think I'm overly empathetic, but i have a strong sense of justice and get very upset and ill about injustices.

related to that, movies and shows that require a lot of stress i don't like, they make me feel ill and i prefer spoilers when it's like that, i get too nervous.

- socially awkward and don't know how to keep conversations going, at least small talk.

- although i used to talk a lot, nowadays i prefer to stay quiet sometimes.

- i get VERY angry and frustrated but it goes away kind of quickly?

-i used to be very loud and I still dont know how to control my tone of voice ( how loud or quiet i am) and i spoke in a very high pitched voice as a child

- i used to read a lot, went to the library in the recess instead of hanging out all the time with kids and used some complicated words that my parents didn't know i knew

- all my life i only had one close friend ( not the same, but always one)

- i think i had a specific routine of morning

- i have a hard time concentrating and being organized

- i make plans for myself in the night and get upset when OTHERS interrupt it but not when i do

- hard time knowing when to pee and when to eat

- again sensory issues, some foods make me want to puke, and wet, sticky or extremely dry hands are disgusting. Also, light touches feel like anger.

- as a kid I repeatedly watched stuff, ended up boring my family because i only wanted to watch that multiple times

- sensory seeker as a kid kind of, slept with my feet up, danced a lot (stimming?)

-i get irritated easily and can hurt people verbally

- don't know if related but i sometimes very anxious, get upset about not saying goodbye correctly to certain people, as a kid i used to cry and didnt want to go to school because of a "bad feeling" that smth bad was gonna happen, could be anxiety.

i absolutely sure there's more, but I don't wanna keep typing

just to finish, most of my circle is neurodivergent. And family wise, my sister is audhd, one cousin and uncle are autistic, my mom has adhd and two of my cousins are suspected autistic.

[crosbyism]

i’ve never really engaged with sidnate because i’ve been a sidgeno truther since like before nate got drafted but god the more i learn the more im like jesus christ what is going ON with them. but at the same time im so emotionally invested in sidgeno so maybe i just start conceptualizing it as sibney and his two boyfriends who are furiously jealous of each other

nate 🤝 sid 🤝 geno

sid has two hands

honestly tho i support it, you do you boo!!

i get coming here from the sidgeno camp, esp. those of us who’ve been around for a longer time (a decade for me, too). i got into hrpf and the pens through sidgeno, since there was just SUCH a community around it and so many fanworks. canonically it’s just been a long time since we’ve gotten any sort of new ship crumbs (i think since the covid season, the 1000 game/point stuff, which has been, what? four years?).

nowadays i’ve drifted into being more invested in them with other people, mostly bc it’s just more compelling to me. geno with anna (or tanger), bc what is going ON in that marriage, deeply compelling tbh— and obvs sidnate, because they truly match each other’s freak. i’ve known since this year’s asg that i’m just never gonna get over them. unparalleled freak4freak behaviour.

to me, geno and sid are like: they fooled around as kids, grew up together. had maybe a messy situationship breakup that ultimately ended in a rock-solid friendship. idk that i have it in me to write sidgeno any more, but if i did it’d probably about their messy breakup right before sid got concussed and the affirmation of their friendship and position in each other’s lives during the ‘12 captaincy debacle. in a way where they reforged the messy adolescent affection they had into a different kind of more platonic love.

nate is just like. really sid’s guy. and i’ve always said, like— forget the obvious fact that nate’s been on the “I ♥️ SID” train since day one (even tho that’s a LOT in the best way), what’s always gotten me is how receptive and affectionate sid is with nate. he used to be SO private, like i remember the amount of CRUMBS pens fans grabbed onto to construct some sort of a characterisation for fics, and since nate’s in his life, he’s just. blossomed, bloomed, flowered. it’s kind of incredible. sid wearing nate’s number at the asg is just the epitome of why i’m obsessed with them. also, being into sidnate is fun as hell tbh. they’re SO ridiculous about each other

anyway, ‘scuse my rambling, dear anon. tldr: we support multishipping here! anything can be true if you want it to be! do what ur heart desires and live ur life. frankly we can also always use more genonate boyfriendsharing and/or jealous hatefucking. i support u and your dreams

[froot-batty]

once again dropping by for Ozzie crumbs but wanted to ask what’s his relationship with cooking in general?

have a nice day!!

Oooh something new to ponder... (You have a nice day as well!!)

Because of how Ozzie grew up, he was parentified pretty hard. His parents did their best, but the duties of caring for his siblings usually fell onto him, as they had to work all the time. Oz had to be able to learn how to cook pretty quick if he wanted him or his siblings to eat

He'd always make sure all of his siblings got enough to eat before getting himself any. Because they were pretty poor and usually didn't have a lot to eat in general, this resulted in him going hungry a lot of the time (and ending up getting himself in more trouble, when he'd inevitably have to steal food)

Cooking as a kid was also one of his ways of showing his love! Whenever he'd get into pretty bad fights with one of his siblings, he'd always resort to making/getting them food as an apology. Oz is pretty bad at being honest about any of his feelings, but he sure can do things for people until they forgive him !! (He's so healthy guys I swear)

Nowadays Oz doesn't cook very much. He never grew to see it as something that could be fun, rather than something he needed to do to survive. Also what's the point of having all that money if you don't hire personal chefs to make all your favorites ??

However. He knows how to make all of the foods the Iceberg Lounge serves, just out of necessity, so he can help out when they're short-staffed or there's a rush. It surprises the hell out of his employees when he suddenly marches in, throws on an apron, and just starts going to town

[kathaynesart]

What advice would you give to someone who really wants to get into writing/drawing comics, but doesn't know how or where to start? What would you recommend? Even if/ especially if they already have a decent history in writing and drawing

SHORT ANSWER: Don’t do what I’m doing with Replica haha! I’m breaking all my own rules with this comic but maybe we can use it as a good example of what not to do in my rant below…

LONG ANSWER: (below the cut)

Hoo boy… there are so many avenues this question could take. I assume you don’t necessarily mean entering the comic industry as a professional (there are far more experienced people you can ask about that). But simply drawing your own comics? I'll try my best to break down some of the basics I've picked up over the years. Note these are just my opinion and there is always room for other methods...

1. ASK YOURSELF WHAT KIND OF COMIC AM I DOING?

The first thing to consider is what is your intention with this comic? Do you want to tell a story centered around a preexisting fandom or tell a completely new story you came up with? What genre do you want to focus on? I'd recommend finding something that really sparks your interest, because you're going to be working on it for far longer than a regular art piece. Plus if you like it, someone else is bound to like it as well!

2. ASK YOURSELF DOES IT NEED TO BE A COMIC?

This may sound silly... but often times I find people fail to take into consideration whether or not the story they are telling works best with the medium they are considering. Had I done Replica as a fan fiction, I would be much farther along with it... but with comics there comes a wide range of subtle visual cues, parallels, and symbolism I can use that I wouldn't be able to show through writing. The written word also has many strengths that comics lack... it just comes down to what you want to be able to show in your story.

3. KEEP IT SHORT AND SIMPLE

If this is your first time doing a comic, I recommend not overextending yourself with some grand epic that is going to take you forever (like Replica haha.)

Example: Years ago a close friend and I did a webcomic called Perpetual Flux that we were unable to finish. It went for about 2-3 years, was over 110 pages long, and yet we had only managed to get about 3 chapters into what would have probably been a +30 chapter story. We came up with this huge epic we wanted to tell and while it was a story we still wanted to finish, it just became impossible to continue as our lives and availability changed.

So start small! And take that experience you gain into bigger, future projects. Obviously I have not learned my lesson with Replica, but at least with this project it's something I can do on my own time and is supported by a wonderful community who keep me inspired. Speaking of which...

4. FINDING AN AUDIENCE

If it’s a story based off something with an existing fandom then half the work is already done! You just need to start interacting more with people in that fandom, and I mean really interacting. Talk to other artists, join Zines, leave comments, and share other people’s work. It can foster a community and help you be a part of the fandom so that people will be interested in what you have to share.

If it’s a new story you’re going to have to create your own community. Nowadays it’s easier than ever to get your work out there, but the competition for eyes is much steeper. What I find that works is rather than starting the comic cold turkey, draw out some highlights from your future story. Moments that have yet to unfold that might wet a random viewer's appetite for more. Kind of like… a trailer for what’s to come. Keep dropping those little crumbs of interest as you prep your comic to garner some interest and that way when you do start you may already have some followers who might share your work around!

5. CONSISTENCY IS KEY

Get into the habit of drawing and writing regularly. I know it can be a hassle and the last thing you want to do is make it a chore, but like exercising I find that the more I do it, the easier it is and the better I feel about it. Nowadays I feel weird if I'm not at least writing some script or drawing a few sketches towards my comic/projects every day.

Also, if you can make sure to update fairly regularly (something I also fail at with Replica haha, but at least I try to post little things here and there when time allows). It's important to let your followers know that you are still there and you care! It also helps keep you at the front of their minds. My fellow Apocalypse AU creators Cass and Tapakah0 are GREAT at this as they post a ton! It helps garner a strong community and a lot of continuous excitement! I wish I had that same energy and time but you'll have to make do with my old-lady pace of things, bless you all haha.

6. GRAPHIC DESIGN

Obviously as a writer and artist you're used to doing both... but with comics there's another aspect that can come into play. Graphic design! Whether it's your title, your font choices, the word bubbles, or the way you break down the panels, these area all things you should take into consideration. For example, every webcomic has panels, but they can vary tremendously in style. Because of Tumblr and the nature of the scroll method I chose to forgo the typical "comic book style" for more of a... loose storyboard feel where I care more about the angle of the shot within each panel rather than how these separated images link up to one another. Where as with Perpetual Flux, it was laid out on actual comic pages so we had to take serious consideration into how they fit together within each page. IngunnSara is also a great example of this more traditional method of paneling and it's gorgeous and difficult and they have my utmost respect for pulling it off with Hamato Wanderers! So I recommend looking to some of your own favorite comics and see what jives with you.

7. FIND A STYLE THAT WORKS FOR YOU

Also failed this with Replica haha, but to be fair I went right into it with the intent on learning the style as I went. But I recommend having some grasp on the style you want to use and whether or not it's a viable to be drawing over and over again for your comic (for example, if you make it too detailed it will take you far longer to draw!)

8. FORGET ABOUT PERFECTION

Perfection is a lie. There is no place for it in art, especially if you're just doing this for your own pleasure. Don't strive for it. Don't worry about it. Don't compare yourself. Just keep doing what you're doing and keep learning from it. You'll get much farther!

Ok... hopefully that helps a bit. I'm sure there's plenty more to talk about but I feel like I've talked enough for now. Thanks for listening to my TED Talk and lemmed know if you manage to get your comic off the ground :)

[voteforspoon]

It’s time to acknowledge the fact that some of you feminists are making matters worse. This is not me saying that male privilege does not exist. This is not me saying that men are not responsible for higher rates of crime and other problems. This is me saying that hearing crap like “kill all men” and “we hate men” is only causing more problems. There are young boys going into their teenage years, some of their most formative years, hearing these things and you know what they do? They go to the right wing nut jobs who tell them that actually, men do have value, and men are good. When these boys seek validation they follow a bread crumb trail that leads them to thinking women are inferior, that women are bad, yada yada ya. Because when they are at a vulnerable spot and looking to the outer world for this first time they are told that they are bad and evil because they are men. So they (completely justifiably) walk toward the group who tells them they do have value and a lot of it. I know this is true because I was once one of those boys. And when I heard women saying those things, saying men are evil, it really hurt me. Because I wasn’t. I was a bright eyed innocent kid, who didn’t get why people hated other people. And I was indoctrinated because some people told me that I did have worth while others told me I did not, simply by my gender. This is not to say feminism is bad. Nowadays I’m proud to say I am feminist. But this is to say that some of you are in fact the bad guys. And you need to be made aware of that. You create some of the most vile hate toward women by spewing some vile hate towards men. Hating one another is the problem in the first place. It starts to make sense that men start leaning right as a whole when a lot of the most vocal voices on the left tell them there isn’t a place for them on the left. And when the right brainwashes these boys into thinking these horrible ideologies, it makes sense that boys start to go down a spiral that causes them to commit more crimes. Because now they think they are better than women, that women are objects these men are deserving of because of their manhood. This is not to take fault off the right and the teachers of these ideologies. But the fact is a lot of the boys walk to the right because of hate spewed from the left. And while some, like myself, find their way out of that dark place, many don’t. Please. For the love of people everywhere. Stop saying hateful rhetoric. Stop saying men are better than women. Stop saying men are worse than women. Stop saying that men deserve more or deserve less than women. We’re all people here. Trying to survive and trying to be loved. especially when we’re kids. Please let these young boys see that they have value so they don’t find it in right wing grifters. We gotta love people, if we don’t love our fellow humans then we are another part of the problem. I beg that you don’t subject more young boys to the same horrible things I was subjected to, from both sides of the political spectrum.

[thisislittlerunaway]

Right, maybe I’m just having my moment, but in this post I’m gonna rant because I am getting very, very sick of eating mouldy bread and crumbs at the waffle house nowadays 🤢. It is demoralising, is it not?

Firstly, please don’t attack me, I’m as much a hardcore shipper as you are, but undeniably my rationality never stops me from playing devil’s advocate. It has been vexing seeing the fandom going back and forth with theories just to keep the Lukola ship afloat amid the reality of L dating and N moving on from captaining the ship.

As much as I love Nic and Luke, I don’t plan to give up my grasp on reality to fool myself into delusion. I’m way too old and realistic for that, and by crossing over to delulu land I would be making what I believe real in my mind, rather than observing something real and appreciating it, which is how I believe I got into this fandom.

So far evidence has shown N & L seem to be very different people in terms of work ethics, career projection, choice of friends, attitude to fans and fame, and PR strategies among other things. Plus, as much as the fandom tries in its most creative ways to dismiss this, Luke does have an ‘alleged’ gf whom he takes seriously enough to bring with him almost everywhere, and who has somehow stuck around for almost a year. Say what you like but Luke’s actions don’t scream one-sided from A at all. And who is she to be so powerful to ‘force’ him into bringing her everywhere?

I ship Lukola, but I don’t NEED them to exist. If there really isn’t anything between them (ever, or anymore) apart from a good friendship, it is OK, I just want to know.

Promotion period is over. We have given S3 so much hype and this has resulted in amazing success and public recognition. Luke is still with A and seemingly distancing himself from the B’ton bubble, N has moved on to other projects, so why can’t they just release us from this rollercoaster of emotions by confirming once and for all that they are just friends. I bet some fans (like myself) will appreciate being freed from the misery.

The only possible reason I can think of to explain why we are stuck here in the WH with all this mess is perhaps when N & L were chosen as S3 leads, their contract got renewed and part of it requires them to drive this dating narrative for as long as they are cast members. It is likely Shondaland has learnt from previous seasons and QC how powerful fans can be when they wholeheartedly believe in a ship and decided to fully capitalize on this, not just for S3 but for as long as they can. Conveniently they have N & L who are very close and comfortable with each other, and the very hard working Nic who seems to have chemistry with everyone and understands how a fandom works way too well.

So, as per their contract, N & L cannot publicly claim any gf/bf, but of course neither Netflix nor Shondaland can stop them living their personal lives, or stop their friends and tabloids from digging into N and L’s private lives for publicity. I can imagine this to be suffocating, I wouldn’t be surprised if L did find it too much and just wanted to get away from it all as soon as possible, hence his behaviour since Part 2 premier. This is obviously bad for publicity and potentially upset N + Shonda who work super hard for B’ton and S3 to be a success. I suspect there is tension and disagreement behind the scene, and while they want to keep us believing in Lukola, they really can’t control Luke’s life. This explains all the mixed messages we are getting.

So now we have it, an awkward situation where our beloved find themselves damned if they do and damned if they don’t. So much conflict of interest, so strong also is the sentiment from fans who are ready for the next backlash in response to any upsetting news that no one wants to risk losing the support by officially busting the bubble.

Hence we are all stuck. Luke buried himself in the sand with HBS ver 2 and Nic buries herself in work. We are left starved, only barely kept alive when Netflix, Shondaland and some cast/crew occasionally drop some BTS and info to keep us interested.

This was never what I signed up for when I joined this fandom. I am frustrated, a bit heart broken, and getting more and more cynical each day. I am hanging dearly on to my seat in the waffle house but trust me, some days I wish I had never got here in the first place.

End of my rant, I’ll probably sulk a bit and get back here tomorrow to continue with all this shipping business 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Have a good day!