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luludeluluramblings · 12 hours ago

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Smalltown!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfamily: Part One - Rewrite

A/N: I got stuck on the action scenes in Part Nine and decided Hey, I should rewrite the earlier parts since my writing has improved. Only to realized, a lot of shit went down in those earlier parts. lol. help. This is 4.6k words and I have to make into two parts because so much happened.

Link to the Original Part One.

Warning: Parental Death, talks of grief, Bruce being an obsessive and cryptic mf, Alfred being a bit delulu, attempted GN!Reader.

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You had a happy childhood. You know that. You've always known that. People had repetitively said it to you. Over and over again. Blessed. Lucky. Privileged. Not just with material things, but with affection and talents. And, it seemed to increase as you got older and the circle of people you interacted with slowly began to expand and bubble around you. Sure there were some struggles. Some terrifying and suffocating moments. But, life was good.

You were quite serious as a child when you were told to be grateful for what you had. You'd say that mind et helped you retain some level of humility. But, in reality, you were grateful because you were selfish and didn't want to lose what you had. Not even for something better. You had enough. You could make the rain fall or the sunshine or even make a snowman on a hot summer day. And, you were loved. What more could you want?

The children's stories about being greedy stuck with you. So, being a little selfish was fine, but being greedy was not.

Besides, there was nothing to be greedy for. You had loving parents, lived in a wonderful community. Fresh air, good food, good clothes. An annoying, but lovable little brother.

Life was practically perfect.

I mean, sure, you had to live with the knowledge that Daddy wasn't your real father. It wasn't something that had been hidden from you. You knew, you were told. He loved you all the same and spoiled you almost as much as he did your Momma.

The way he loved you was without question. You might have thought he would have been weirded out when you discovered you were a meta, but out of everyone in the town and in the family, he had been your rock. He'd been the one to sit with you when you struggled not to make it rain in the house. When you accidentally shot off lighting when you sneezed. When your crush said you looked cute and a snow flurry followed you around for three days.

But, there was the fact that you just wanted to know who it was. Daddy even agreed that you should have been told who the man was. Not that even he knew. He didn't care about knowing who the man was. He'd probably just thank him for giving him such a blessing before containing to enjoy his easy going life.

You weren't greedy with it. In fact, you had dropped the topic after months of asking.

So why did everything fall apart if you didn't commit the sin of greed?

Why were you standing over two graves in the back of the family property surrounded by your loving town?

You couldn't muster the will to let rain fall. Rain was your delight. A delight you shared with Momma and Daddy. With them gone, seemed the only thing to fall was you and Lukie-boy's tears.

Condolences and condolences. You knew everyone meant well, but right now all you wanted was to curl up in Momma and Daddy's bed with your little brother and bury yourself under the covers. Just pretend this was a nightmare.

You didn't care that you were almost an adult, the grief left you feeling strangely like a child.

Nana had taken over most of the proceedings. While Granddaddy kept you and Luke close. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him. Being reminded to the silently way Daddy would hold you. Nana had a tendency to be overbearing and she was even more so today as she fluttered about Luke and you with concern.

You had to remind yourself she was also burying her son, and that made you hold back your tongue and most of your tears.

It wasn't until everyone moved back to the church building for some food that you felt the shift in the atmosphere. One you know you hadn't caused yourself with your lack of energy at the moment.

There was a man. He wore a sharply fitted black suit. Faintly you heard Mae mutter that it was Tom Ford in the same tone she used when speaking about her fabric and bugs.

You didn't recognize him. In fact, no one seemed to recognize him. That was until you really looked at him and you meet his gaze with your own solemn one.

Everyone said you were a sweet child. But, Mae was your best friend and she had little filter on her thoughts. And, you recall what she had said to you once after that long forgotten incident in the bayou a few years back.

"When you frown, when your eyes narrow, when your nose wrinkles in anger and annoyance, you're entire face reminds me of a dark and stormy night. Like from the stories. Even when your eyes glow, there's a shadow sometimes."

You had seen what she was talking about in the mirror once. Had wondered who it was you had gotten that from. It wasn't from Momma, or MawMaw, or Gab. But, you remember the way your Momma would sometimes look at you when you got like that. The way she'd poke your sides until it went away or held you close until it melted it off.

You didn't know who you got it from back then.

You did now.

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Bruce had hoped this day would come, but not like this. Not in a way that felt like history repeating it's self once more.

Two people dead, but this time two children left.

He wasn't even meant to get the call from what he knew. It was an accident. Something he was grateful for when he pushed that DNA test on Adeline all those years ago. A social worker, fresh to the field, called the manor. Luckily, Alfred had picked up the call. And, right when Bruce had walked down the steps, nearly missing the last one when he saw the expression on his face. One he has seen a few times before.

"Yes, he's just come down. I'll inform him myself, and he will be there promptly. No, no, travel will not be an issue. Thank you, Ma'am. Have a pleasant evening." The elderly man's voice remained stoic and composed, but Bruce watched him lean all his weight onto the decades old accent table enough for him to hear both, the bones of his Butler and the table, creek.

Alfred pressed a hand to his face, only letting out a sigh when he wanted to curse. Curse the word. Curse the Wayne name, curse the blood. Just scream at the cursed world. But, he didn’t.

He couldn't even bring himself to look at Bruce. His son. Knowing that this would break another piece of him once more.

"Ms. Adeline and her husband have passed."

Bruce's reaction is immediate as he moves in a rush. "The children-"

"Alive and well. Or, as well as they may be, all things considered," Alfred manages to finally take a weary breath before letting out an exhausted exhale.

"Drunk driver. Ms. Adeline and her husband had been on a date that evening. The children had been home. They pulled the car from one of the swamps this morning after a fisherman spotted it. It- It appears Ms. Adeline was rendered unconscious during the crash. And, Mr. Anderson drowned trying to unbuckle her." The old butler manages to keep a slightly even tone when speaking. Relaying the information he managed to garnish from the young social worker.

For Bruce it was a tragic sigh of relief. You were alright, but not alright. Tragedy had struck you, but not taken you.

"I'll be leaving to get-"

"The young Jean-Luc is already set to stay with his grandparents. But, the courts deemed you fit to take custody of our-" Alfred coughs, catching himself.

"Understood." Bruce grits his teeth. He doesn't want to separate siblings, but maybe you being around your other siblings will be enough. Besides, he can petition for custody. Surely an elderly couple would prefer their grandson stay with his closest relative?"

"I'll have my secretary arrange a flight out and clear my schedule. We need to cover all press leaks as well." Batman was in control now, already coming up with a plan and mentally coming up with a new patrol roster for the coming few days while he heads towards the cave.

"Alfred, prepare a room for them, please." He also asks, knowing the older man would need something to do unless Bruce wanted him to nearly exhaust himself by cleaning the manor top to bottom.

"Which room, sir?"

Bruce pauses to consider the options in the manor. Most of the rooms having been filled by the others or are in need of repair.

But, one does pop into mind.

"The Madam's Room."

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During the flight to that little backwater town in Louisiana, Bruce passes the time with his own thoughts. It's only a four hour flight by private jet, but, for a man like him, playing with the thoughts in his head can be dangerous.

The 'what if's linger in his mind. The few times he's allowed himself to stare at you through the screen of the Bat computer on your birthday. The occasional way he'd let his eye's linger on Adeline. Noting how she's aged like wine. How she remained soft and warm in each image and her only wrinkles were faint and clearly from sunshine and laughter. Faintly he could hear it echo even now. The throaty sound added to the list of things that haunt him.

Sometimes his eyes would linger on Jean-Luc in those rare instances. The boy an exact replica of his mother, with her warm brown eyes and curls. Sometimes, he'd pretend they were dark blue like his own. But, only for a second before he wiped to computer's hard drive and replaced it with another one.

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Your feelings over the entire matter were… complicated. You certainly didn’t expect to find out your biological father was one of THE richest men in the entire world.

But, it was just such an odd situation.

You had wondered about him, yes. But, you didn’t want to leave everything behind in your hometown.

Nana had thrown an absolute fit about him taking you. It was almost terrifying to watch the sweet woman you loved practically spittle with rage. Though in her defense, he had offered to take Lukie-boy too. Like an added bonus. Apparently he collected orphans judging from your quick google search in the bathroom after his arrival. Guess that means you fit his criteria now.

You had flinched when he’d done that. You understood he was trying to keep the two of you together - you did appreciate that, but the dirt over Momma and Daddy’s graves had barely settled before he’d made the offer in that almost posh accent of his.

It had soured things a bit, but you tried. You had tried.

Reassuring Nana that you’d call her every week helped her cope a bit. Telling her you’d promise to keep her updated helped soothe her some. And, asking her that she help by just focusing on Luke seemed to bring her back to reality.

Though she did grumble and get that terrifying look in her eyes when your family lawyer, one of the town residence explained that a new social worker had made the call to him accident. That same look that made Momma weary and Daddy's face age. But, they weren't here any more so there was only you to watch with furrowed brows.

Instead you hugged Luke, kissed his curls like Momma used to only to the be pulled into tight embraces and firm grips by nearly everyone you knew before boarding the private jet with your father.

It felt weird to say father.

Daddy was dead. Drowned and buried and in the dirt. Yet, here was your father. You didn't want to replace Daddy.

You also didn’t know how to react. How to handle this new father. And, you guess neither did he. Since for the first two hours of your flight to Gotham city, the man was completely silent. So instead you decided to look for similarities. Already you found one.

Momma had a thing for the quite type, you decided.

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Bruce couldn't really bring himself to say anything. To see you in person finally after all the years, made something in him break and the pieces collide back together suddenly. He's seen still shots with the highest quality imaging. Videos and audios with the best equipment money could by or he could create.

But, there was something different about watching you breath and blink in real life. No need to rewind and watch the footage again. To pretended he was there in those moments. He had you here beside him now. His baby.

And, you were beautiful.

Just as beautiful to him as you were in the first image he'd received of you in that clear hospital nursery cradle. He stands by his previous thoughts. You had his mother's eyes. And, now grown you had even more of his mother's features, blended together with your own mother, of course. Something he strangely found himself grateful for. A small reminder that he had once held a softer woman once. Even if he ended up letting her go.

But, he was afraid. This was a different fear than when he was introduced to Damian. Damian had been a surprised, not entirely un-welcomed. But, Bruce knew Damian was expecting Batman as his father. You were expecting Bruce Wayne. And, Bruce Wayne as a father didn't exist.

The media may say otherwise, but it was an act. And, he couldn't give you an act. He wouldn't. He wasn't going to lie to you. But, he needed you to be safe. Especially now. Especially when you had such sad eyes and a frown like his own on your face from a loss he deeply understood, but couldn't help you with. Not in the way you needed. Your hands were far to delicate for justice.

He'd already made plans to track down the driver that knocked Adeline and her husband into the bayou as you called it. He could see the way you shudder and how your eyes would water each time your mother and step-father's drowning was mentioned. Something he desperately wanted to ask about. A fear he could sense that he so deeply wanted to understand.

Instead, he finally broke his silence after you both were halfway to Gotham.

"Don't worry about being introduced to everyone right away. I want you to take some time to get acclimated to the Manor. Settle in a bit and find a new routine." He finally said, hiding the rough raw emotions he was feeling from sheer will power.

"I appreciate it, sir." Hearing you drawl even though your voice was hoarse was something Bruce found himself taking a deep breath over. Letting it sink in.

"You don't have to call me 'sir'. I know you have manners and all that, but you can call me," Father, Dad - give him the title he desperately wants, "Bruce. If you'd prefer."

"Understood, sir-- I mean, Bruce." You trail off, awkwardly. The silence filling the air. The jet was clearly one of the fancier breeds, considering you couldn't even hear the engines and use them as white noise.

"Um, what's Gotham like?" You finally decided to ask. Crossing your ankles in and attempt to relax while your eyed drift towards him again.

His eyes strangely seem to light up at your question, though a frown tugs at his lips.

"It is, in short summary, dangerous. There a lot of crime in the city. You'll defiantly be staying in the manor after dark."

You try ignore how he's instantly ordering you around. Like your not seventeen. Like you didn't just leave a loving home where you were allowed to float on the breeze through the bayou's trees at whatever hour you pleased. Things were going to be different, and you'd accept that. For now.

"What's the manor like?" You decided to ask instead. Concluding it was a fairly safe question.

"Oh, I think you'll like it." Was all he said while smiling warmly.

Already you wanted to smack him. You wanted conversation, not to talk to a damn cryptic.

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You should’ve taken Bruce’s ambiguous nature at face value for what your life was about to become.

Quite.

You wouldn’t have minded too much, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were stuck inside Wayne Manor while Bruce got all the paperwork set up for your fancy new school and the fact that he wanted to ease you into things at a snails pace.

Though you wouldn’t forget about the overwhelming nature of the entire situation. Looking up at the veritable brick castle of multiple styles you’d seen throughout decades of different architectural trends. The only comment you had gotten from him when you asked about it was that it had been in the Wayne family for over a century while he smiled proudly. Like that single sentence was enough to fill the silence.

You didn’t like silence.

Even when you were alone, you liked to listen. To music, to the wind, to raindrops, to the cicadas and crickets chirping back home. Not hollow echoing silence.

What made it worse was that Bruce practically disappeared after he introduced you to the family butler. A kindly old man that already gave you a fond look as you toddled after like a helpless newborn duck still learning how to swim and trying not to drown. His smile growing even wider when you asked your polite questions about the history of the manor, wanting to feel some familiarity if you were going to be stuck in these dark wood paneled hallways with red carpets.

Apparently, the house castle was built in the Colonial period. Fascinating, when were the gargoyles added then? Keep talking, please. You didn’t want to deal with thoughts of your grief and loneliness.

It was up two flights of stairs that you really got hit with the reality of your situation.

You remember the soft greens and earthy tones your mother was fond off when decorating your childhood home. The white trim that caught the light from the windows. The light oak wood floor that somehow felt softer than the carpets here. Even in the shadowed corners the most dangerous thing you’d find was a dust bunny. Your own room filled with dusty blues and soft whites and greys like a cloudy sky.

Here, you were hit with RED.

So much red. Dark floral wallpaper, that you’d admit was gorgeous in its vividness. But, it almost overwhelmed you. Not even the cream colored sheets and curtains could make it any less underwhelming.

“This is the Madam’s Room. Primarily, it’s been used as a closet and dressing room by previous ladies of the house. An example being your late-grandmother. I’ve taken the liberty of having her portrait hung over the mantel with your great-grandmother also having her portrait in here as well.” You couldn’t even be upset by the hint of pride in the man’s voice. The room was beautiful, tastefully decorated. Charming. Sophisticated. Historical. A million different of fancy words. But, it wasn’t home.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth, sir.” You murmured looking around the room while giving him your best attempt at a smile.

Your eyes catching the aforementioned portrait over the fireplace. The breath in your chest catching. Everyone always said you looked like Momma just with different eyes and a few other little things. They didn’t feel so little now. You looked too much like the woman in the portrait. Way too much like her.

“My own room is right across the hall in case you need anything else, my dear. Please, do not hesitate to ask. And, most importantly, you are more than welcome to call me Alfred.” You snap out of your thoughts and let your manners take over, smiling politely and nodding along.

“Thank you, Mr. Alfred, sir. I most appreciate it.” You hide behind a grateful tone that seems to make him look at you with an even fonder expression.

“I’ll let you to get settled in then, my dear. Feel free to add your own touches and take it easy. Everyone else is out of the manor at the moment so don’t worry about having to entertain any questions for the time being.”

God, you’d rather answer the most invasive questions in existence than be alone right now in such an unfamiliar place. But, you smile anyway.

“Thank you, again. I really do appreciate it, sir.” Are your finally words before your left alone and the thoughts creep in.

It isn’t until you’re unpacking a few of the little things you grabbed from your room and the clothes that don’t even begin to fill the closet that it hits you. Your little happy lightning cloud pillow looking like a children’s toy on the pillows. It technically is one, but seeing it makes you realize you don’t really feel like a child anymore. Though you still cling to it as you cry softly.

You don’t bother causing it to rain.

Instead, it’s noted by those on patrol, how that particular Gotham night is unusually warm.

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Alfred felt unfortunately blessed. Bruce wanted to ease the poor child into life in Gotham, but just from how overwhelmed they were he could tell it was not going to be like any of them expected things to go.

But, it was nice. Pleasant to have someone that just wanted to lightly talk without the long history of patching up their skin and mending their bones to contact them. He would admit he thought often of Martha.

Alfred could easily conclude he was growing sentimental. But, he excused that. It was common at his age. Instead he just enjoyed your company while Bruce had the rest of the family hold back their introductions.

Though really. Bruce’s antics were a little less amusing this time around. Waiting until you were in the house and settled into bed before abruptly calling a family meeting to announce your presence? He doesn’t blame the others for being outraged. They should have at least been informed before you arrived. Though, he supposed it was for the best. It would have to do now, regardless.

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“Alright, B-man. What’s this about? No one’s escaped Arkham, and I have Alfred’s birthday marked on my phone’s calendar. So this better be important.” Jason had sat back in one of the caves chairs, possibly Tim’s judging from how he kept giving him a dirty look for creating his feet near some tech junk on the metal counter in front of him.

“What about the rest of our birthday’s?” Steph had to ask, grinning at him from her own perch next to weapons rack.

“Not as important.” Jason dismissed with a wave of his hand causing her to snicker. Duke also chuckled from his own seat, before sat more at attention. Or, at least as much as he could considering he was just about to head out on patrol.

"Didn't include your own birthday in that?" Dick quipped back, stretching the tension from his shoulders after the drive from Bludhaven. He had also picked up Barbara on the way which had added extra time. She had her chair rolled up to one of the tables where Cass was sitting cross legged on.

Only Cass wasn't in a joking mood, she was to busy observing Bruce. Noting the flickers of multiple contradictory emotions in him. Damian's eyes drifted towards her from where he stood at attention. Already suspicion brewing in his gaze at what she could possibly be reading from the family's patriarch.

“Does this have anything to do with that guest your brought to the manor?” Barbara eventually asked, catching everyone’s attention before their heads swiveled to Bruce. A guest meant they had to be careful in the manor, or at least above ground. Below it things were clear to run like normal.

“Great.” Stephanie said dryly, “How long are we going to be running like this?”

“A while.” Bruce finally answered after a moment. For once feeling out of his depth to explain this. As Alfred walking into the cave, he knew it was time.

“I believe they’re asleep now. The poor dear seemed exhausted.” The older man said while taking a seat himself, his eyes solemn and soft.

In a room of raised detectives they caught the look and the way Bruce was acting.

“Really, Father? Another stray? Thomas was bad enough don’t you.” Damian comments with little heat behind his words while Duke gives him a look of mock outrage.

“This one isn’t a stray.” Bruce admits, knowing that Damian was about to take this the hardest.

“You flew to Louisiana for them. A bit far for your usual route?” Barbara questions already rolling away from the table and towards him.

“Did you finally sign up for one of those adoption websites and get an alert?” Jason scoffed a bit.

“No. They aren’t adopted. They’re my biological child. Officially.” He finally announced, wanting to get the worst of it out of the way.

That seemed to stun everyone for a moment. However, Dick was the first to recover. Catching how serious Bruce was being. “Bruce, is this another Damian?”

Damian bristled at the question, but knew Dick didn’t mean anything harmful by it. However his breath did catch when it was Alfred that answered.

“No, Master Bruce was informed of their birth and subsequently had a DNA test done years previous.”

That made everyone’s heads spin. But, not as much as Damian’s.

“You knew about them and, you never told me?” He had meant to say ‘us’, but this was different. This was a blood matter. And, while he knew blood didn’t truly matter to make a family, it did forge a connection between people willing or unwillingly.

“Hold on, is this from the worst of your playboy days?” Barbara asked, trying to wrap her head around it.

“Yes. But, it was a particular woman. None of you meat her, except Jason.”

Heads and eyes and ears turned to him instead, watching for his reaction.

“Don’t look at me, he went through like fifteen women—“

“It was Adeline.”

Oh.

Jason remembered her. Hell, he had actually liked her. She lasted about three weeks longer than all the others. And, she was softer, warmer, with a drawl that he sometimes imagined reading to him. She hadn’t tried to be motherly to him, but it was clear to him she could’ve been. She could’ve been a lot of things.

But, Bruce had thought her too sweet and too good. And, had let her go. Jason had been sad about it. But, not distraught. It really was for the best, he'd thought. She had been to good for Bruce.

However, if he knew one thing, her kid probably had the best childhood in existence. And, away from Bruce to boot.

“The Cajun and Creole southern belle.” Was all he commented, drawing a few raised brows.

“With a bit more... spice than we anticipated. She had won full custody of their child while Bruce had been on a league mission.” Alfred added to the subject. Making Tim whistle a bit.

“Oh, damn. Those lawyers must have been good.” Was all he could find himself adding to the tense conversation.

“So, they’re… normal?” Was Stephanie next inquiry. Already feeling that spark of jealousy in her chest. A normal childhood only to end up with Bruce as your surprise dad? Talk about winning the genetic lottery.

“Yes. They’re ‘normal’. I don’t want them involved with any of our night work. Everyone is to keep it under wraps.”

“Until?”

“There is no until. Keep it under wraps.”

It was then everyone realized, Bruce was willing to throw away their entire routines and make their jobs more stressful just for this person. A person he saw fit not to trust any of them with. A person he was prioritizing over them, and possibly over the mission.

And, that pissed off more than a few of them.

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Taglist:

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A/N: Sooooo, what we think? Improvement, I hope? Don't worry, the neglected bits are coming and Yandere bs going to begin. I'm just tightening things up a bit.

A/N: Here's my Ko-Fi link. (My husband encouraged me to make it for diet coke, my weakness.)

#luluramblings #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #smalltown!reader

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seb-boo · 17 hours ago

Text

Highlights from Seb's Interview with Sky Germany (Jeddah 2025):

Seb's kids don't want him driving (cause they like him home so much)

He regretted that when he got the chance to ask Michael a question, he asked about what he did to stay fit

He apparently hates swimming?

He recently broke his finger doing handy work

His son has started to ask about his career

How self-doubt played a role in his career and ultimately poor results were not satisfying to him in the end, especially when he could have been spending time with his kids

He was surprised at his first drivers' briefing how catty everyone was—this later, in addition to safety, was a motivator to reform the GDPA and actually have community amongst the drivers

He feels that Multi 21 made him and Mark closer (ala Baku 2017)

He is open to the idea of taking over Marko's job and discussed how their approaches are very different

He texted Lewis after his China sprint win

His projects allow him to be involved with F1, but keep enough distance to feel comfortable

His favorite thing to do is psychoanalyze the drivers (he also thinks reading people is his greatest gift)

He is struggling with grasses and herbs at agricultural school (but seems to do well on an impromptu quiz)

He's a control freak (he trusts his choice in restaurant and music over everyone else in F1 for a party—oh, and he would pay)

Direct quotes ↴

"I would say, well. It's my own perception, but I think pretty well. The, how do you say, the family peace still exists. [You're not annoying at home?] *laughing* I don't think so. I am still wanted. The kids also said I shouldn't start driving again because it's so nice that I'm there. That's great to hear something like that."

---

"When I imagine myself as a little boy, I can remember the key moments when suddenly Michael was standing there, maybe said something, and the question I asked was, 'what do you do to be fit?' And then you think afterwards or later I thought again, I should have asked so many other things. And then he told me that he does this and that and swims and so on, and I thought, 'oh no, I don't like swimming at all!' These are such small things, but yes, it meant the world to me at the time[...] because my hero listened to me in that sense."

---

"It's about intuition and what really drives you and what you really want, and yes, I think I might not be able to fully answer that question for a long time, or ever, but that's also what triggers curiosity somewhere. But to feel it and, yes, to develop more intuition, I think, was a big point for me and perhaps still is. And it's exciting to get to know yourself again like that. I don't know why I had this drive, after stopping, not to commit myself to a task or a job or, I don't know, partnership XY, but to be free first, for myself, to then feel myself and see, okay, what do I want at all, where is my journey going, and how do I deal with this, in quotes 'emptiness first,' before I immediately jump into the next project?"

"Agriculture has kept me quite busy in the last year with the training that I am now hopefully successfully completing and passing, and I have learned a lot of new things. Yes, there is always something to do around the house and things that have maybe been left undone in recent years, where I am still, yes, skilled. It's relative, I recently broke my finger, but yes, I do a lot and try a lot, and so the days actually pass quickly. I enjoy that. I enjoy the time as well, and this other life, but of course, I watch and follow what is happening and how the guys are doing, and I am still in contact here and there, so yes, it is a big part of me, and it will remain so."

[So the identity as a racing driver will remain. How is that now, for example, at home? For the children, they are 10, 11, I think, then six or so, five?] "Yes, five." [Do they also ask about moments from your career, or is that not a topic at all?]

"Yes, it's funny. We were watching recently, just now, the race in Bahrain or qualifying, and then when it was finished, my youngest said something like, 'I would like to see where you were driving.' Then I said, 'Okay, I have to look first.' I couldn't find anything quickly in the media library, I had to rummage around, but yes, it is interesting. The girls, I think, have taken it in and perceived it a bit more. He was still too young. Yes, it would sometimes be interesting to know what the children think. Here or there, they notice it when we are out and about and perhaps meet people who remember and you stop for a moment and have a chat. But yes, my own perception and then the perception from the children's point of view is very interesting. I think we are coping well with the situation and of course we are trying to give the children a childhood similar to the one we had, in a normal sense, really."

[I also looked at how you have developed as a personality over the years, starting with your time in Formula 1. If you look back at your early years at Toro Rosso, maybe also a bit of the time at Red Bull, how would you describe yourself then?]

"Well, I think very focused, very goal-oriented. I knew exactly what I wanted. I had a very clear vision of where I wanted to go, and then of course I had this incredible time, the years when it felt like everything went well for me. Then with the move to Ferrari, of course, a big challenge, but also a lifelong dream that I could fulfill. The big success, the very big success that I had firmly set my sights on, the title, did not materialize. Now, of course, you can talk for a long time about why and how and why not, but I believe that in retrospect, the time was much more important, the people I met, the experiences I had, and the lessons as well."

"From, I don't know, a certain insecurity, self-doubt also played a big role, then to the last part of my career where I think I opened up more and also came out of myself more in the sense that I not only talked about racing but also addressed other topics and topics that were important to me, and so I gave room to a new side of myself and could develop. And yes, of course, I had a great privilege associated with it, that I was in a position where people might have listened to me or perceived me in that sense, and I actually had very, very many positive experiences with that. Of course, there were also people who said, 'That doesn't belong to you now, and you shouldn't focus on that, and rather focus on driving because things aren't going well there,' and so on. I think there was also a lot of humility in the sense of, yes, when you have a good run at the beginning and then everything picks up speed and you are in teams where things are always moving forward and faster and in big teams, then in that sense, I don't want to say falling behind, but switching to a team that is in this building phase and getting the momentum back was a nice time. "

"But of course, in terms of results, it was a very tough time, a tough pill to swallow, because suddenly you are, I don't know, not in oblivion, but from my point of view and own feelings, you have slipped to results that no longer matter, that are no longer relevant. Whether I was 8th or 12th or 14th, was for me, insufficient for me. Especially when you have already been at the very top, then that is no real fulfillment. But also dealing with that and getting to know that side of myself, I think I have matured extremely in recent years and knew more and more what I wanted. And then in that sense, that I see and want other things in my life and want to have time, especially for the children. Time is limited, and then I had the courage, I think, to say, okay, I know I can do more and I know maybe more is yet to come, but yes, I want to have time for other things and get to know other sides of myself."

---

"And I think our society has changed, that yes, young people or generally, that you now address certain topics and don't stop before certain topics anymore. And that you have to take a position in a certain way. Perhaps a piece of the freedom to withdraw has been lost, but I think that has a very positive overall effect. When you address topics in sport that are perhaps more political or play a role outside of sport, I think it has a lot of impact. So if the values are the right ones that you represent and it is good topics that you address, of course, it's not for me to judge what is good and bad and right and wrong, but I think if you stand up for others and draw attention to things, then that is a good thing."

---

"I remember my first drivers' briefing as a Formula 1 driver. I was somewhat shocked that no one was talking to each other, but rather talking about each other, sometimes with a bit of arrogance, and this difference in status, "I am here, you are there." Yet in sport, in Formula 1 or in life generally, our passion connects us, and then to seek points of attack instead of the things that perhaps distinguish us, I find much more sympathetic, because even if we weren't the best friends in that room of 20 back then and still are today as drivers, even if we weren't the best friends, there was still this great connection and the passion that we all shared or cared about, right?"

[Or I mean, towards the end of your career, you brought the drivers together, but this is now commonplace, right?]

"Because I simply thought or felt that this community was missing, and also to help establish the GPDA, and I went to Alex, to Alex Wurz, who is still involved, and said, 'Alex, we somehow have to manage to bring the drivers together.' Of course, safety is a topic that connects us all, but also generally, let's talk about the other topics when we feel that something is wrong, or that we simply get into an exchange. I think the space is good that you can, apart from statements you have heard about others, find this space to also go out for dinner in the evening and exchange ideas and get to know each other better. You spend so much time together, it feels like, and at the same time, everyone is so absorbed in their team with meetings and, I don't know, meet and greets and appearances here and there, that you actually don't have any time together, and that is really a shame."

[With Multi 21, for example, with Mark Webber back then, such an action, how do you see that now, from your past, do you say that was totally okay, or do you think it was difficult?]

"Especially, I think, that our relationship was strained until then. Or very, yes, we were very big competitors, so Mark. Of course, then also within the team, but I think that ultimately, clearly, it wasn't a nice event, but I think it led to us understanding each other much better today and having much more respect for each other. So, we talked afterwards, I told him what I didn't like about it and why I felt it was unjustified. He expressed his opinion, and yes, even if you don't completely agree with and adopt the other person's opinion, that's not what it's about. It's about talking to each other in the first step, and we were much better at that afterwards."

[Sebastian, when you look at the situation right now at Red Bull, it's funny that your name came up today because I was talking to Ralf about what you yourself once mentioned as a potential successor. Is that a role you could fundamentally imagine?]

"I think there is only one Helmut, and his role, clearly, is his. But yes, I think that generally, the exchange is also very inspiring, and of course, you have the experiences you have, and Helmut is similar in a way. He also grew up in motorsport, a completely different time, but the wheel still turns the same way in a way, and the similar and same things matter today as they did, I don't know, how many years ago, even if Formula 1 has changed significantly."

"Yes, I think there are many things and perspectives or parallels or things that one could pass on. Whether that will be something in the future, we'll see. I am still in contact with him, I also asked him a few years ago how much longer he wanted to do it, and he said not much longer, and he is still here. *laughs* So as long as he still enjoys it and feels up to the job, I think, yes, he is in a unique role, especially with the experience and the team dynamics. He knows that best, and from the outside, it is always difficult to judge, and perhaps you sometimes wonder here or there how this happened or what's the point, but of course, he has a completely different perspective and completely different experiences. And yes, it will be a shame when he leaves or steps down from the position at some point, but of course, then, yes, it has to develop in a new, different direction."

[I visited him recently in Graz, he had just come from the forest, it was 11 in the morning, he said he had already been there for 3 hours, and then he said he talks about it often with you too because you are also a forester and you have different approaches, right?]

"Yes, completely different views, but we both have respect for each other. He is more of the old school. I am more of the modern perspective, that you sometimes leave the tree lying there, and thereby cultivate or promote the beneficial insects, or in his view, pests, and thus ensure balance. But yes, neither of our views is just right and just wrong."

---

[I also said recently, after three races we say someone is great, and then they make a mistake again, and then they go down again. So this patience also to have with development, for example, with Lewis Hamilton. I think you wrote to him after the sprint victory in China, didn't you?]

"Yes, of course."

[Yes, he was probably happy because you texted him. How do you see that? I mean, you also made this move from Red Bull to Ferrari. What is this big adjustment that you need as a driver, and why does it take so long, maybe half a year, as Ralf, for example, said?]

"Well, maybe it takes even longer, depending. I think so many things depend on it. I think the car was less of a change for me back then. Everything was different. The car drove completely differently. But yes, I was able to get used to it quite quickly in that sense. But of course, it's other people, a different environment, a different language, a different culture. So I think the whole thing overwhelms you, and everyone is different. One person might need longer, another less long with one situation or another. I don't think there's any doubt that he can drive. There's no doubt that he can do all the things that are now demanded of him. But it's also completely normal to need a little time. And I think nothing is lost there either, in that sense. If the development suddenly takes the right path, then I think Ferrari is in a completely different position again. They were very strong last year, narrowly missed the Constructors' Championship, so you shouldn't write off the whole team and the two drivers now."

---

[If you could choose a role again in Formula 1, I know that you were, for example, in Monaco, we saw each other very briefly there, you came out of the Red Bull hospitality, you had an appointment with Stefano Domenicali. When people see you now, also with your experience regarding social projects, everyone would ask, why isn't Sebastian integrated into Formula 1 anymore with his past? What's the answer to that?]

"I have many, but would you like to do that? I am in contact with Stefano, we are talking about it and perhaps still refining and tinkering with what it would look like exactly. Yes, but I also don't want to push myself in any way. I think ultimately it has to fit for both sides. I don't know. I mean, I follow the sport with great interest, and now also with enough distance that I don't feel like it's a problem anymore. The first few races were perhaps a bit more difficult, but now after a relatively long time, it is no longer a problem."

"Yes, I don't know what it could be in the future. Of course, it would be nice to see that the goals that Formula 1 sets for itself are realistically approached and achieved regarding the future and regarding responsibility. So whether it's climate neutrality by 2030 or certain projects and aspects to use the impact of Formula 1 to really live, exemplify, and bring about good change. On the other hand, of course, as I said, staying close to the drivers in a certain role, I don't know what kind of role that will be in the future, is certainly something one can imagine, which I can also imagine."

[Simply because you have had so many experiences that you couldn't evaluate during your active time, but now I think with more distance, you see many things.]

"I watch the races, of course, I see the same things as everyone else, which tires, which strategy, and so on. But I think what tactic or what mindset is behind it, what is going on in the driver's head, I think I already have more insight, perhaps not better than everyone else, but more insight. And of course, yes, because it's perhaps still so fresh, I can still draw more from it. 'Does he feel comfortable now, and where is perhaps the problem? Maybe it's not the tire set or the strategy, but perhaps something else.' That's what I find interesting, the person behind it."

[I just wanted to ask you a few quick short questions at the end, including a quiz question about your training. I'm curious if you can answer it. Perhaps first, what are you learning right now that you are not yet good at?]

"Grasses and herbs."

[Okay...alphorn playing?]

"Alphorn playing! I still remember that, I put it aside but haven't completely given up. I heard something again recently and thought, oh yes, I must get it out again."

[What is your greatest gift?]

"Of course, you could talk about racing because I had some success there and so on, but I think, yes, this reading people, it sounds a bit much, but I think I can sense what is going on in people and in certain situations, and then, of course, when it comes to sport and performance or results in that sense."

[Looking back at your Formula 1 time with all the people you met, regardless of who they are, a really good evening, a final evening, perhaps. Who chooses the restaurant?]

"Me!" [Ja?] "Ja!"

[Do you have good taste?]

"I don't know, but I think I have learned over the years that, yes, I really enjoy doing that. Let's put it that way."

[Who is responsible for the music?]

"Also me. If I'm throwing the party, then at least the food and music. Music can either be right and you don't really notice it, it's in the background and it fits. But if it's wrong, it's already too late when you notice it. So, yes."

[What do you like to listen to? What's your favorite?]

"Everything. But when eating, yes, it has to be something calmer and something that fits the time and the setting."

[Yes, who pays?]

"I would also like to, I wouldn't have a problem." *laughs*

[Who leaves first?]

"That depends on how many people are there."

[But who would be the one you'd say, yes, okay, the slightly grumpy one.]

"Christian always left first!"

[Okay, okay, okay. And who locks the door at the end?]

"Adrian."

[Really? Such a party person?]

"Yes, well, there are others there too, but yes, he always had fun anyway."

[So Sebastian, the last question now. Now I'm curious. I hope I'm not putting you on the spot. So you are doing your training now in Switzerland, right? Agriculture? I think you are in the vocational school in Pfäffikon. Did I pronounce that correctly?] "Ja." [Watch out, now I have picked out a question. So, which plant is often referred to as "green gold" because it improves the soil and serves as animal fodder? Is it A) Wheat, B) Clover, C) Corn, or D) Rapeseed?]

"It's clover because it's a legume and the only plant that can store nitrogen in the form of nodule bacteria on the roots. You can even see them with the naked eye, and it's not only good for the soil and the plant, but also good for the animals."

[That's great. You passed the test!]

#sebastian vettel #lewis hamilton #mark webber #rwt!seb #multi21 #martian #sewis #jeddah25 #quotes25 #saudiarabia25 #2025 #seb interview

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meanrichbitch · 3 days ago

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I agree that people should think critically about where their money and attention go. I also do not support J.K. Rowling’s views and I completely disapprove of her role in undermining trans rights in the UK.

That said, labelling anyone who still cares about Harry Potter as "pathetic" is arrogant and completely out of touch. For a lot of people, Harry Potter isn’t just a franchise, it’s tied to core parts of their childhood, identity, and survival through hard times. Demanding that people simply "let it go" overnight shows a complete lack of understanding of how humans process nostalgia. Obsessing over individual fans rather than the actual corporate and entertainment giants that keep Rowling rich misses the entire point and you claiming that morality is measured by whether someone can "give up a book" is shallow and embarrassingly narrow-minded. If your goal is to be heard, trying to bully people into giving up something they care about is the fastest way to make sure they don't. No amount of purity policing and guilt-tripping is going to dismantle a billion-dollar media empire. Shaming people who already have the books or who engage in fandom spaces without giving her more money isn't productive, it just alienates potential allies, breeds resentment and creates unnecessary division. These are the same people who could've helped the trans community, supported trans charities, and amplified the work of non-profits if they weren't being driven away by such skewed moral grandstanding.

to summarize: you have the moral backbone of a flatworm if your response every time harry potter comes up is to make it about your inability to give up a book

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flymetothexmoon · 2 days ago

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Flowers + Band T's

Warnings: Smut. Implied Breeding Kink. Swearing. Mention of Cigarettes.

Pairing: 2000's Emo Boi Seunghyun xF!Reader.

Authors Note: request from the lovely @ttt-1987s. Want to give her a personal shoutout for being my 100th follower where I let her pick any plot she wanted, and she requested a couple great ideas, one of them to be a Seunghyun xF!Reader inspired by the song Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Friday nights were for the girls. You did not have a very large friend group, but every Friday the four of you would all gather to destress about the week you'd endured.

Some of you had work, some of you had college courses, and some of you even had both: work and college courses. You were one of the unlucky ones who had to endure tackling all three– college courses in the morning, work until sometimes the sky turned dark, all while maintaining a social life. Thankfully tonight was one of the nights all of your schedules aligned and you were able to all gather at the place any almost 20-some year old girl in the early mid 2000's loved– the mall.

The night was still young, and you were in the middle of listening to the eldest member of your group talking about an upcoming show that peaked your interest. Warped Tour. It was a large outdoor festival that specialized in catering to the punk rock scene that you and your group were definitely members of. The idea of a community where you could confidently mingle with people who understood your music taste was enough to feel like electricity shooting through your veins.

You did not need to be twice about who would be there, you'd already started to play what bands you would be seeing on what stage and what brand of hairspray would be the best to hold your hair together in the heat.

Honestly you could not remeber the exact moment you laid eyes on the darker haired man across the way from you. It all happened so fast.

A soft gasp fled your vocal cords as you could feel your lips parting, like you were surprised he was real. His look alone was to make you freak. His dark colored locks were tousled and styled in a way that made it seem effortless and like he had all the time in the world. You wet your lips, tasting blood, as your eyes locked to his jeans– tight, a wash of Indigo Blue that you hadn't seen before. It did not take you long to also take note of the band shirt he was wearing... one of your favorites, My Chemical Romance.

Your friends around you were talking but you were unable to comprehend what was actually being discussed. He was definitey different and you loved that. You did not even know his name, but you already knew how handsome he was, and how you would most definitely fuck him right then and there if he'd asked; nicely or not.

"Hello, are you even listening? We said we were going to Apple and take some photos on the new computers. Did you want to join?"

Tempting. The offer was real tempting, and honestly, you could probably use a new MySpace photo, especially with its newest competitor Facebook increasing in popularity. You were about to nod your head when in the corner of your dark makeup covered eye, you saw him. He was walking into the Hot Topic closest to where you and your friends were currently sitting. For a brief second, you swore he was being coy and the two of you made eye contact as he slipped into the darker part of the store, disappearing and out of sight, but with the way the two of you made eye contact, it was like he was waiting to be found– by you.

A small smile spread across your lips as you stood from the uncomfortable food court chair, your Converse squeaking slightly against the polished floors.

"I'll meet up. I need to head into Hot Topic real quick and find a new outfit. I'll meet you guys in the Apple Store?"

Thankfully most of your friends were already grabbing their shoulder bags as they all nodded in agreement to your statement as if they'd actually paid attention. But, as life would have it, just as you finished adjusting your studded belt so it fit better on your hip instead of the center of your own tight jeans, you were met with someone in your friend group putting their hand on your shoulder, the chipped black nail polish catching your attention as she tried to read your body language.

"He was definitely looking back. If you do not get his number then I will be so upset at you," a small hint of red began to sting at your cheeks as you placed your hand on top of your friends, squeezing it slightly as the brightly colored beads on your bracelet clashed against hers, a smile forming across your lips.

"I plan to."

All your friend had to do was nod approvingly for the cue to be made to start making your way to your favorite store. You had not seen mystery emo boy walk out of the store yet so it was easy to say with confidence that he was still lurking around somewhere in the darkness of the store, probably bobbing his head to loud music playing through the speakers and checking price tags on what band shirt was worth the money and his time. Boy was he ever.

Choi Seunghyun, or what you would later find out was his name, was doing just that– his head moving to the beat of the current song playing, his hands delicately picking up different dark pieces of fabric and admiring the design on each one, delicately folding each shirt as he'd put it back on the designated shelving.

Seunghyun was definitely a wild card, and he was not your typical almost 20-some male. He liked loved weird things. He felt a little silly coming into Hot Topic, despite his appearance, but he was definitely in his eliment as his Vans glid across the flooring of the store, lurking, waiting, and his dark brown eyes searching as they subtly checked out each girl that came in who remotely looked like you. Unfourante for him, that was a lot.

Thankfully for him, the store was tiny, and while it had much inventory, along with much people coming in and out, the store was also tight and small in space so it easy for him to know when the girl standing next to him with teased hair and black jeans was in fact not you.

Not yet.

Eventually, you'd had enough courage to actually walk inside the store. You had stood in front of the entry way for what felt like too long as the neon red light of the sign began to sting at your eyes and the curve from tunnel-esque entry way swallowing you whole as your feet stepped inside.

Immediately, you were met with a heightened sense of sound as you heard a familiar song playing through the speakers. You could've swore the sound of your heart thumping out of your chest was part of the song as you looked for him, your emo boy. The harder you looked, the more you squinted through the dimly lit store. You knew the store like back of your hand, even once working here for a brief moment in time, still to this day, your old manager allowing you to have physical key access to the back of the store.

Finally, there he was.

He was close, but not close enough that he could see you yet, but you could see him. Currently he was holding up a shirt that had Happy Bunny plastered over the front and a signature funny, crude, early 2000's kind of joke beneath it.

You smiled to yourself as you heard him chuckle, the feeling of knowning you had a shared sense of humor was nice– it was warm. Seunghyun neatly folded the shirt back to its original form and placed the shirt down as he moved only slightly, just enough though that in his movement, the scent of his cologne and cigarette brand of choice was now traveling through your nose. He smelt like Marlboro Red and Hermès Terre d'Hermes.

If you did not want to miss him, you had to be equally as quick on your feet as you found your way standing closer to him now. Sure, you could start conversation by complimenting his shirt, or you could gently bump into him and make the new shirt he was holding drop from his hands, but you of course had to make things so much more complicated in your head as you suddenly began to lack the confidence you were recently feeling when your friend encouraged you to ask for his number.

Seunghyun still had not noticed you, and your anxiety was growing more by the second as your own negative thoughts began to take control. By now, you had stepped a few meters away from him as you began to awkwardly look at your own style of different graphic t's and band t's. You were actually getting a little lost in the idea of actually finding an outfit idea for Warped Tour that when you and emo boy's hands briefly touched and went for the same shirt, electricity shot through you like a damn surge of lightning.

The two of you both stopped, and in extreme slow motion, the two of you made eye contact again. His eyes were darker than you remember, and lightness of your pale blue eyes were a contrast to the darker makeup around them as you two stood like that for a moment just staring into each other's eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his English slightly broken as you realized it was probably not his native tongue.

"Fuck. You look like Hanna Beth. You know, that girl all over the Internet with blue eyes and big hair?" and just like, you giggled– you giggled just like one of the girls at your college, the same kind of girl who had bleach blonde hair and skirts much shorter than any dress code you'd ever read.

Honestly, the compliment was not new to you, but coming from him, it made you almost lose your breath.

"I've been told that from time to time,"

Seunghyun smiled. Like really smiled. As if he was meeting the real Hanna Beth herself as his posture straightened, the both of you long forgetting about the band t you'd both grabbed as the eye contact remained the same; strong, present, and almost... sensual like you two were playing a game of cat and mouse to see who would chase the other first.

Forgetting the two of you were in public, conversations flew, more compliments given, and a whole lot of vibrations coming from both of your respected phones as the parties you were with were wondering where two of you had gone off to.

Little to both of your knowledge, they were in similar areas with squinted eyes and extended ears as both parties were watching and attempting to listen to the hushed but animated conversations you two were sharing. During this time you had learned his name, that was he was visiting from South Korea, and he was actually considering the same Warped Tour date as you.

During the time you two had spent talking, shoppers had came and gone, employees had clocked in and clocked out, and the two of you had gotten closer in proximity, even at one point the two of you brushing shoulders as you went to reach for a certain band t, struggling a little, and even with the slight platform on your Converse, it was not enough to give you the added height you needed to get the proper sizing.

As the universe would have it, you found yourself falling in more ways than one. You were falling for a man who was not a local, and you were also quite literally falling from trying to grab something that was out of your reach. Before you could attempt to hold onto something, your waist was quickly grabbed and held in place by a pair of hands, and not just any hands, but Seunghyun's. You stumbled slightly once your feet were mobilized, but his hands stayed around your waist, almost like he was trying to savor the idea of being so close to you. Were you suppose to return the hug? Where was this going to lead? Why was he doing it? When was he planning to release you?

Involuntarily, you closed your eyes. Not because you did not want to look at him, but because you couldn't. Seunghyun's grip around your waist only tightened, answering one out of the four questions that were buzzing around in your head. Slowly, your eyes began to flutter open like you were trying to make sure what was happening was really happening.

You were not amateur when it came to be in the presence of an attractive guy before. Hell, even last week it was you who initiated the last time you did anything with a guy. But this time? This it all felt different, and although all that was going through your head was you two were in the middle of the band t's aisle at Hot Topic on a random Friday night.

"You smell like cigarettes."

He laughed. You smiled.

"You smell like berries and crushed apples. And also like cigarettes."

You blushed, like it was a secret that he mentioned the last thing. Silence washed over you two again like high tide, loud enough to hear that it was coming but silent enough that you both knew it had a force strong enough to knock you both to your feet.

"I want to kiss you. Is that okay?"

"Right here?"

"Yeah."

Seunghyun liked to think he was a very patient man, but there was something about you that made the impulse control part of his brain go fuzzy as he leaned into you, his nose gently yours in the process and bumping against your nose ring.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours, his fingernails already carving his initials to your skin like he fucking owned you. And you loved that. You loved the way his lips felt against yours, the way his tongue danced against your bottom lip like it was a dance only you two knew.

You were the first to pull away, your lips curving into a tight ended smirk as you listened carefully to his uneven breathing.

"Did you want to fuck in the back?"

Seunghyun's brows knitted with confusion and curiosity.

"The back?"

"Yes... The back of the store. The back of the Hot Topic."

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

Before tonight, Seunghyun had sworn the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was the moon– he would never openly admit that, maybe he would one day, but right now it still felt like a vulnerable secret that he'd hope to one day be able to represent his home country and visit the moon.

Now, Seunghyun still wanted to visit the moon, but the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was replaced with you. Maybe he was a little biased, but the way you looked with your back against the cold, poorly painted wall in the back of the building was somehow all he had been searching for the entirety of his trip. Seunghyun's hands were still at your hips with your legs now wrapped around his waist and your arms tightly around his neck as his body pressed into yours. It was almost painful at how much friction was happening between both of your skinny jeans right now.

Your nails were digging into the sensitive parts of the back of his neck as you pulled away briefly, his swollen lips almost forming a small pout when he felt your mouth no longer on his.

His lips parted to speak, but his brain failed to comprehend words as the taller man slowly closed his lips once again, feeling the more tender parts where you'd nipped at the skin.

There was no doubt you two would be fucking, but neither of you really knew when or if the two of you were comfortable in the situation you got yourselves into. You knew no one would walk in where you were, but the thought still lingered both of your minds before it dawned on you how little you'd care if someone did and how much you'd actually think it was the hottest thing.

You could feel yourself getting more antsy by the minute as one of your hands moved from his neck and slowly down his collarbones, down his clothed My Chemical Romance shirt, your almond shaped nails delicately teasing at the bare skin underneath as you finally stopped at the front of his jeans, causing the man against you to shiver in response, his cock practically begging to held in your palm.

Your thumb began to gently glide across the fabric to get a feel what you were up against, and you could definitely feel it. He was big. And honestly felt a little curved in all the best ways.

Maybe it was the way the charm on your nail design felt pressed against him, but Seunghyun was unable to keep his patience up for much longer as he leaned into you, his teeth grazing at the part where your collarbone meets your neck, the more sensitive area bulging out slightly like he was made to mark your skin. The canine part of his teeth felt like little tiny daggers in your skin as you moaned quietly, the vibration of your vocal cords shooting through him in the process.

"Seunghyun, please. Need to feel you in more ways than just through my hand palming you in your stupid jeans..."

Your words came out a lot needier than you'd planned, but the way you could feel him twitch inside your palm proved that he was thinking the same thing you were.

Soft murmurs were exchanged and bodies were moving and eventually you were completely exposed. You were shivering, but the air was warm as you watched Seunghyun watch you. His eyes were so dark that you were certain if not for the fluorescent lights flickering above you two, you would have not been able to tell he was still there.

His My Chemical Romance shirt still clung to his body as you titled your head only rightly. It was almost like he was afraid to fully commit to what was about to happen. You stepped forward, your back stinging slightly when it was no longer supported from the wall behind you. You'd made your way in front of him now, the height difference fully settling as you'd look up at him with innocence, the fake eyelashes you'd chose to wear that day were slowly fluttering. Before long, your almond nails were tracing down his chest once again, the feeling of his shirt gliding through your manicured nails with ease.

"Did you want to keep this on, emo boy, or do you just really loving teasing me?"

Seunghyun tensed at your touch. It was like he was fighting an inner battle of what he knew you both wanted vs what he could give.

"I, I- I can take it off..." you nodded. You did not want to pressure him, but you definitely felt more underdressed than him as you latched a few of your fingers into the fabric. It was a little comical to see him bare from the waist down but yet this silly little band t of his clung to his body like armor.

With your free hand, your palm wrapped around him like it was made to fit in your hand. He was definitely bigger than your hand could hold, but that did not stop you from grabbing what you could as you slowly moved your hand up and down, your thumb gently tracing the tip, the feeling of his precum coating your finger.

You moaned softly at the feeling on your fingers. You'd pumped him in your hand a few more times, his hips involuntarily bucking in response as you'd removed your hand entirely from him, hearing a low hiss escape his local cords. Without warning, you brought your fingers to your lips, parting them only slightly so he watch your every move as you'd licked your fingers clean of him as if it you'd just had the best meal of your life.

Before your brain had time to catch up, you were being lifted up off the ground, and once again, your back was being met with the wall once again. It did not take long for you to audibly gasp, your eyes widening at the sight of realizing Seunghyun had removed his shirt for you.

One of his hands was carefully holding you against the wall while the other was planted firmly close to your head, his nails desperately acting like they could tear the paint alone. His i lips attacked your neck again as the softer nibbles from earlier were now replaced with one thing– hunger, like he'd never had anything quite as good as you.

"Are you always this needy? I have not even started fucking you yet and you already acting like you need it bad. Been that long for you?"

What started off as a simple game of cat and mouse has turned into something much more serious. You'd opened your mouth to respond, maybe even say something equally as sassy, but before your thoughts could leave your mouth, his lips were already back on the sweet spot of your neck and his cock already lining up with you.

You whimpered at the contact.

It really had not been that long for you but it was a mixture of the way his lips curved against your neck and the way he was only lining up the tip and it already felt like a few inches were in you. Maybe because there was. He might not look like he was packing, or that he got bitches, but boy did it feel like 11 inches.

"Are you always this bratty right before someone gives you something?"

And you were.

Before you'd had time to think of something to say, he was already buried inside of you.

His movements were fast and sloppy, almost like he was afraid if he went too slow, you might not really be there. Maybe it was the way he'd curved inside of you, or maybe it was the way every time his hips jerked against yours, you could feel every goddamn inch.

At one point, Seunghyun had to go to the place dark inside of his mind where he thought about certain things so that he could control himself better. The canine part of his teeth that were once nipping at your neck were now chewing on the inside of his own cheek, thinking to anything to hold back the inevitable.

One of your free hands had made their way to the taller man's hair, the tip on the almond shape of your nail gracefully scratching at his scalp as your fingers latched into the top parts of his styled hair.

The room was filled with low, murmured moans escaping your vocal cords and the sound of his hips slamming into yours. Seunghyun opened his mouth to speak at one point, but his lips quickly closed as he already forgot the proper English words to speak.

You could feel yourself clenching around him, like his cock was made to be pleasuring you in this moment.

There was no doubt in your mind at how big he was, how big he felt, and it was almost pornographic how well he knew what to do. Your eyes began to flutter with both excitement and anticipation as the hand you had tangled in his roots now slid down both of your bodies, your own hand resting on the bottom part of your stomach as he thrust into you, feeling him from the outside.

"Seunghyun, please..."

"Please what? Communicate. Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

He was close, and he was sure he could tell you were too.

The sounds in the room began to vibrate off the walls, closing you both into what felt like an invisible bubble that only you two could feel and hear everything.

His cock began to twitch inside of you, and with a final snap of both your hips, he was done for and released himself inside of you.

Seunghyun rode his own high until he felt you release shortly after him, coating him almost completely, the rest slowly dripping down your right thigh as he was quick to remove himself from inside of you. The lack of contact made you audibly gasp at first, but you shortly after began to watch as the taller man sunk to his knees so he was at eye level with you, thumb gently gracing the side of your thigh that there was slight leakage.

"Can't have you making a mess now, can we, princess? Eyes on me."

You watched as his thumb rubbed circles into your skin like he was finding a way to imprint his fingerprints into you forever. Eventually, he'd pushed the remaining white liquid inside of you.

Once back to his feet, the two of you found each other smiling into the others eyes as you respectfully both assisted the other in putting clothes back on, giggling in the process at how tight the clothing felt after being off for so long. The walk out of the room you were just in was quiet, but not in the uncomfortable sense.

By the time you'd both walked out of the dimly lit store, the mall was still loud and lively like you two had never left. People still walked past, bags in hands, people were still laughing and talking like they had heard all the gossip in the world. Different scents still lingered in your nose like you could not tell if you wanted a piece of pizza or a perfume sample.

It had still felt like you two were in your own bubble that no on could hear or see you as the two of you walked outside together. Not holding hands, not even linking arms, but close enough to know you were present with each other.

You two were quiet, and not because the two of you felt shame, but because you were comfortable. You'd watched Seunghyun's body move in a different way now, leaning over, and picking a single flower from a nearby planted bush.

"I'll buy us tickets. Come to Warped Tour with me."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

Tag List: @breakmeoff @loveesiren @wcnderlnds @ldydeath @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @gdinthehouseee @infinetlyforgotten @cupidsonly @djarindroid @szonyix6277 @nerdydoll-com @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound

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#choi seunghyun #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun x reader smut #t.o.p #choi seunghyun x reader #t.o.p x reader smut #fanfiction writer

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ovaryacted · 3 days ago

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Literally what do you mean a grown ass (white woman) typed out some shitty mediocre excuse of an article for The Cut, listing some of the best fanfic for The Pitt WITH FUCKING AO3 LINKS TO PEOPLE’S ACCOUNTS? How on earth did we fucking get here when it comes to how we engage and view fanfic and fandom spaces?

Not only was that article just a disgrace, the way the author talked about fanfic writers as a whole as if they’re in the wrong for writing things on their free time, in addition to having microagressive and ableist commentary on said fics in dismissing Dr. Robby/Dr. Collins as the most popular ship in the fandom to then talking about writing Mel as a sexual being as if that’s not possible with neurodivergent individuals is really just so fucking disgusting…I don’t even have words to describe how I feel. Not to mention, this person also linked several Jamira/Mohabbit fics which have since been locked to only registered users, and even going as far as to mention a Dr. Abbot/Dr. Robby fic in the article feels like an egregious attempt at doxxing and shaming if I’m being honest.

Fanfic and fandom shouldn’t be mentioned in mainstream media under the guise of pop culture for the sake of clicks and attention. The reason why fandom & fanfic even exist is so people are able to engage with their favorite pieces of media in ways they can control and manage privately. It’s a safe space for people to build community with other like minded individuals and to share thoughts and joy about said media. There’s a found social contract when it comes to the general audience of things and fandom spaces, and mentioning fanfic in an online column as a journalist of all things breaks that trust and ruins the connection people have already built towards that particular type of media. It’s also a violation of privacy just mentioning and linking people’s fanfics in an article for the world to see when many don’t understand fandom culture and the authors didn’t consent to having their work publicized in that way. What gives you the right to do that if you hold no relationship with the authors directly?

Since the pandemic around 2020, the approach towards fandom spaces and fanfic as a whole has changed dramatically. People are more hostile and judgmental when it comes to what people write, how frequently they do and treat writers like content pumping machines because we’ve become so accustomed to fast paced consumerism. People lack boundaries between actors and the media they’re a part of or consume, they print out people’s fanfic works to “own” as if it’s their own; and now it’s progressed to people’s work being scrapped to train generative AI systems by the millions and journalists using their fanfic works to talk about the things people write, share, and engage with in their own free time for publicity or even money.

So many people are already being discouraged to write and share their writing in the first place, and with the way things are going, I won’t be surprised if people just flat out stop writing fanfic all together, or start sharing their writing as pdfs on encrypted messaging apps to people they trust. I don’t get what’s so hard about leaving fanfic writers and fandom communities alone, but if this isn’t a sign of the growing puritanical, conservative, and hyper surveillance nature in our culture, then I don’t know what else there is to say. I’m worried about the future of fanfic writing and creatives as a whole, I really am, and we are quickly running out of safe spaces to engage in fandom content overall. Frankly I don’t think we have any safe spaces left, and that’s terrifying.

#chat we are literally so cooked #I’m really hoping that article gets taken down #cause there’s just no way somebody in their right mind thought to write something like that #to even post about the fics is crazy but adding the actual links is fucking insane #I feel so bad for the fic writers truly #I’ve never seen anything like that before #please for the love of god just leave fanfic writers alone #we already have other things to worry about we don’t need a possible case of doxxing just for writing something on our own time #scary times we’re living in truly #the pitt

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 3 days ago

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"Do you think anyone really cares about where dwarves get their blue dye?" At least two blue pigments are specifically derived from minerals (indigo and cobalt). That's part of why humans had trouble dying stuff blue until relatively recently, because we had to locate, extract, and refine the minerals, then process them into usable dye. Of course the dwarves have blue dye. If anything, they probably have a monopoly on the trade of blue dye, and would consider plant-based blue dye like woad a threat to their business. There's a whole plot there if you want to focus your story on the merchant class, or at least a compelling subplot for some ongoing background tension.

Ways an attack by a human-faced bear can fit into a story:

Local version of a manticore (lion with scorpion tail and human face), to worldbuild a setting with twists on established myths. If it has a humanoid face, can it also mimic a human voice calling for help, to lure travellers off the path?

Establish/confirm that there are dangerous animals in the area. Demonstrate how well- or ill-suited the characters are for dealing with this. Show that your characters are prepared and well-equipped, or overconfident and out of their depth.

(Do they have fantasy bear-spray? Did one of them fall for a scam and bring a charm that was supposed to keep human-faced bears away? Did they mistakenly believe they could talk to it? Could they talk to it, but it wasn't interested in what they had to say? How do they escape or drive it off? What injuries do they suffer, and what first aid are they able to give one another afterwards? Do they need to go to someone else for healing? Who and where?)

If trying to establish "anyone can die", an attack by an animal motivated by hunger or territoriality rather than targeted malevolence can be an effective way to kill off a character without making it look like some outside force is actively targeting the cast.

Give the audience the vicarious adrenaline rush of a monster attack scene or fight scene. Create tension of future attacks. Alternatively, release tension, because after building up fear of getting attacked, it's finally happened. (A story that constantly ramps up the tension with no release risks the audience getting exhausted and no longer caring.)

In a setting where this is the first indication of fantasy/sci-fi, give the audience the mystery of why it's a human-faced bear and not just a bear. Where did it come from? Was it once a normal bear, or human, and something happened? Is it from another world, and ended up on Earth somehow? Is the setting actually a fantasy or alien world, not Earth as we know it? Character reactions will help establish whether this is a dangerous-but-normal animal, or something they also recognize as abnormal.

Uncanny Valley! Unsettle the audience with a monster that looks like it might be a person, but is actually a non-sapient creature. Just because a creature looks part-human doesn't mean it is bound by human social conventions or has the ability to communicate. Good for setting up later wariness towards other apparent "hybrids" like merfolk, harpies, and centaurs - or, if those have previously been encountered as sapient, the non-sapient human-faced bear breaks the pattern, creating danger partly from inaccurate expectations.

Uncanny Valley! Unsettle the audience with a character that appears to be an unintelligent creature, but is actually a person. If sapient, why is it attacking? Establish territory conflict between humans and bear-folk.

Imply/reveal/confirm that a mad scientist or a magic-wielder has been creating human-animal hybrids, either just to see if they could, or to guard a specific area for some purpose. Set up future conflict with this character.

The thesis here, I think, is the "Show Don't Tell" principle. Telling your audience "this forest has human-faced bears in it" will not get the same reaction as "Character was walking through the forest and got attacked by a bear with a human face."

your dark fantasy novel doesn't need a logic-based magic system it needs a bear with a human face

#science fiction #fantasy literature #worldbuilding #bears #narrative #also #colours #dwarves #long post

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bluebelly-sun-serpentine · 3 days ago

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Thank you for the note on that post about activism. I’ve never seen a protest actually work and I’m 24 years old. I know It’s important to keep trying but, you hit the nail on the head for why young people are so disillusioned, nothing we do seems to help. Do you have any information about some that did, and maybe what the difference was?

Hi anon,

Yes, I have one very current example of an ongoing protest that is working:

People have been protesting outside of Tesla dealerships all around the country every Saturday for months now, and these small, localized protests (as well as online activism and generalized social pressure) absolutely have been helping to tank Tesla's stock price, which is one way of weakening Elon Musk's power. These protests have made it unpleasant for people to get their cars serviced, way less likely to go to a dealership to buy, and much more uncomfortable about driving their cars around town because of the stigma associated with Tesla. Have they stopped Musk from running roughshod with DOGE? No. But they have made people look elsewhere for electric cars, and they've clearly sent Musk into a tailspin. [EDIT: apparently they already are impacting his ability to ruin stuff with DOGE. I thought it would take longer but @lydiardbell has informed me things are moving more quickly than I'd expected!] They're more effective than meeting once en masse at fewer places, because the consistency helps remind people this is a live issue, and if you're driving down a big arterial road in your random town and see a bunch of people posted up with signs at the Tesla dealership rather than seeing them in NYC on TV that says to you "people in my town, in my area, care about this. It's not just the most annoying people in the major metro areas that I resent calling for this stuff. People like me, living in my circumstances, also care."

I will also say that protest and public outcry is constantly making changes at the local level. Here's a negative example: If you're wondering why you're struggling so much with the cost of housing, it's probably in large part because NIMBY activists - people who don't want any new housing built, especially the kind of dense housing that's good for a city's financial solvency and for lower income people and for the environment – are consistently showing up to city/town council meetings and loudly protesting any new development. These tend to be people who don't want housing stock to increase because it will make housing cheaper (and thus their single-family properties less valuable for resale or remortgage) and also people who are just allergic to change. You know who's not showing up to these meetings? Young people who need housing. Part of that is structural (people who are struggling to find housing are more likely to be economically stressed and not have time to show up regularly to council meetings) but it's also that a lot of young people are unwilling to spend their free time doing something "boring" like advocating for themselves and their communities at a meeting where you have to wait around and maybe have a speech or a letter prepared, or do some research beforehand. And maybe if more people showed up to oppose NIMBYs at boring meetings, more housing would get built. In my area the NIMBY harassment of pro-housing city council members has been so bad that some have resigned out of fear for their families' safety. If these people had had more support, maybe they'd still be doing the work.

Protest isn't always an organized mass on a public street; it's also citizens making some organized attempt to oppose a policy or project, or citizens calling loudly for the need for a project, repeatedly, consistently, in places where the general public isn't even likely to see the action.

I tend to think mass protests with vague goals are ineffective at achieving their vague goals for obvious reasons, but that they do have some utility; they bring people together and help them make connections with other people who are motivated to make change. But if you want to see change that's less abstract or incidental, that's really directly a reflection of your actions, then focus on local activism, and have clear policy goals in mind. If you want more housing, for instance, you have to start caring about zoning, about how development works, about how local property tax laws affect the issue, or you have to start listening to people who DO care about that stuff.

The biggest mistake I see young people making is basing your politics entirely on the vibe. The people who are effective at making change figure out how things actually work. They don't have to be the people who have the best or purest motives and cleanest, most virtuous personal politics. Often they're not. Being effective sometimes means learning stuff you would once have found boring, and deciding it's interesting because it's materially useful to your cause. It also means building coalitions with people who disagree with you on some things in order to achieve a goal you DO agree upon.

The Tesla protests are trying to create a physical and social impediment to people who would otherwise buy Teslas, and by focusing on the places where a lot of those sales would actually happen (and where all the vehicle servicing has to happen, because Tesla sucks) they have actively made it annoying and unpleasant to buy a Tesla. Protesters introduce real friction into a process that Tesla wants and needs to be easy. Similarly, NIMBYs introduce friction into the process of housing development, so even if a developer has already bought a lot and is planning to build a bunch of new units that could house a lot of people (has designed the development, put in the proposal, has the permits, is all ready to go), the developer might end up deciding it's not worth it because the delays caused by change-averse retirees at city council meetings are costing them too much. So you have less housing in your city over-all, rents and property values remain prohibitively high, density remains low (which means the city's tax base is smaller and you have less money to go to projects that benefit everyone, like schools and libraries and social programs and even basic infrastructure like sewage systems and roads). If you show up to that city council meeting and are a counter to the voices trying to make friction - if you help ease the way instead - maybe the housing does get built. Maybe increases in supply mean the rents can come down a bit, because people have more options. The city gets a little bit denser, there's a little more money to hire another librarian, or fix the potholes on your street, or make safe bike lanes, or hire more school counselors. You've not only achieved your goal of making it a little easier to find a place to live; you've made your town a better town in other ways, too.

Another positive example is the recent Target boycott, which as I understand it was organized by black religious activists (the call was specifically to avoid Target for lent); the decreased foot traffic had Target walking back its Trump-appeasement on the issue of DEI. A boycott isn't a protest where you show up with a sign; instead it's a negative action with a hope of a positive outcome. They work better the more specific and organized they are.

There are a lot of ways that you can make a difference. If you don't think showing up to a reactionary mass protest every so often is the way for you (though I'd argue doing that is still helpful) that doesn't mean that activism isn't for you, or that you can't make major change. Pick something specific, and make that your thing.

It's also worth noticing that gun-control activists in Florida actually did get some stuff done; unfortunately a lot of the progress they made was rolled back, and that's a good lesson in realizing that the arc of the moral universe doesn't automatically bend toward justice. You have to consistently, actively make it bend, and if you don't – if you give up – things get worse.

#bluebellytalks #asks #protest #politics #local politics

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magicalrocketships · 2 days ago

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Rivers of Light || part 9 ||

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.) I also know nothing about Cyril's personal life so I've gifted him a hot French wife and a fancy house, as he deserves.

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here.

Max had almost forgotten about Cyril's invitation to dinner. About Bastiaan's invitation too. Bastiaan's never been invited anywhere. This is his first time. So many firsts. Such a little baby and such a lot left to experience.

Part 9

Daniel suggests they walk to Cyril's for dinner. It's only five minutes away, he explains. It's why he booked this hotel instead of one closer to the Renault offices. "Cyril always has the good wine." Daniel looks hopefully in Max's direction.

"We could test out the new carrycot," Daniel says.

Max is changing Bastiaan's nappy on the changing mat laid out on the floor. Bastiaan never particularly likes nappy changes but for once he's not complaining too much. Daniel's kneeling down next to them, booping Bastiaan on the nose with his new pink rabbit, and Bastiaan is too confused to be concerned about having his nappy changed. He doesn't even pee on Max, which has been his little trick the past few days and one Max grew tired of after the first time.

"Okay," Max says. Walking is good, because it means he can leave and bring Bastiaan back if it turns out he doesn't like dinner invitations. "I haven't got anything to give them." He knows the rules of dinners. You take a gift. Wine. Flowers. He wants Cyril to work with him. He wants a contract. A way back into racing.

"Cyril won't mind," Daniel says, shifting from booping Bastiaan on the nose to stroking the rabbit's soft nose over Bastiaan's cheek. Bastiaan likes that. His mouth curves up at the edges. He kicks his little feet. "But I just picked up some wine and chocolates for Sephine. They can be from both of us."

"I'll give you some money for them," Max says stoutly. He leans in and kisses Bastiaan's little knees before putting him in a clean babygro. He has a little blue cardigan with flowers on for Bastiaan to wear over the top. One of the ladies in Celine's book club gave Celine a bag of baby clothes for him, hand-me-downs from her grandchildren. Max thinks the baby was probably a girl, but flowers are nice and it doesn't matter. Bastiaan deserves nice things like flowers. Max had bought a newborn baby starter kit of six little stretch suits and six vests and two cardigans like his leaflet about preparing for his baby had said to. He doesn't have a washing machine at home so he has to walk to the communal ones, and Bastiaan isn't very good at staying clean and dry all day long, so the bag of clothes has been very helpful. They're for different ages too so Max doesn't have to worry so much about finding the money for new clothes when Bastiaan grows out of these.

"Sure," Daniel says easily. "We can sort it out later."

Max nods. He concentrates on getting Bastiaan ready to go out. It might be cold outside, but his little suit has mittens that fold down over his hands, and Max has a little stretchy hat for him too. The new giraffe sleeping bag doesn't have sleeves, so it's good about the cardigan and the mittens. He can put Bastiaan in it and then into the carrycot pram. He puts Bastiaan's three toys into his backpack, and the new pack of wipes into his changing bag. His baby blanket is already in the backpack. All Max has to do is go to the toilet and brush his teeth and put his shoes on and he's ready to go.

"Will you look after him?" he asks Daniel, once Bastiaan is installed in his brand new carrycot. "I'll only be a minute."

"Uncle Daniel to the rescue," Daniel grins. He leans over the pram. "Hi baby. What chaos are we going to cause while your dad's away?"

"Don't cause chaos," Max says. "I won't be long."

"Take as long as you need," Daniel says airily. He's put a corduroy tote bag in the tray under the pram with Bastiaan's changing bag. Max heard the clink of wine bottles as he put it there.

He hears Bastiaan start to cry as he's sitting on the toilet.

"Don't hurry up," Daniel calls. "Me and Bastiaan are hanging out."

"He's crying," Max calls back. "Of course I will hurry."

"We're good," Daniel reiterates. "We're just getting used to each other. See, no more crying already."

Max hurries up anyway. He speed brushes his teeth. Splashes water on his face. But when he comes out, Daniel's holding a bemused Bastiaan. He's not crying.

"Look who's back," Daniel says. "Is it your daddy? Is your daddy back?"

Bastiaan's little mouth curves up into a smile.

Max thinks: You are lovely. He holds his hands out for his baby, and kisses both Bastiaan's cheeks as he takes him from Daniel and tucks him into his chest. "I was only a little way away," he says. "Was it strange being in your new carrycot? We all have to get used to new things sometimes, but you're being very brave." Bastiaan curls his hand into Max's t-shirt. Daniel's folded back his little mittens. Max lets Bastiaan hold on to his finger instead. "Is Daniel your new friend? Is it nice? Having a friend?"

When Max looks up, Daniel's expression is strange again. Almost sad. Max doesn't understand that.

"Let's try again, little baby," Max says, not looking at Daniel anymore. He tucks the mittens over Bastiaan's hands. Pulls the sleeves of his cardigan down. Straightens his little hat. He puts Bastiaan down into the carrycot, and reattaches the cover. Bastiaan scrunches his face up, thinking, then decides not to cry, which Max appreciates. He puts his hoodie on, then grabs his jacket. Laces up his shoes. "We can go now."

"Okay," Daniel says. He's got a hoodie and a coat on too. He sounds a little weird. Max is very tired. He's too tired to understand. Everything's been strange for a long time now anyway, like Max has been underwater and everything's muffled and a long way away.

He can hear Bastiaan, though, and that's all he needs.

&&&

Cyril's house really is less than five minutes away, and it's not too cold out. Bastiaan stays awake the whole time they're walking, his bottom lip jutting out, his eyes wide. He blinks up at Max, even though it's mostly dark out and Daniel has to keep checking the way on his phone. Max's phone doesn't have much data on it. He can't afford it. He's probably still paying for his old contract, for a destroyed sim card, from a bank account he doesn't have access to anymore. But it's okay. It doesn't matter. He's got Bastiaan and Bastiaan is safe, so this is better than the alternative. Nobody is trying to hurt either of them anymore.

"Cyril's wife is Josephine," Daniel says as Max pushes the pram up Cyril's driveway. "Sephine. She's cool. Very French."

"She's French," Max says. "That will be why."

"Well, yes," Daniel says, ringing the doorbell. "Look, tell me if you want to go back to the hotel, and I'll come with you."

"I can walk by myself," Max says, but then the door opens, and it's both Cyril and his lovely, beautiful, dark haired wife. They kiss Max on both cheeks as they help him inside with Bastiaan's pram. Bastiaan is still awake, so Max gets him out of the carrycot and out of his little hat and baby sleeping bag as Daniel presents the tote bag of wine and chocolates as gifts from them both.

"We're having steak," Cyril tells him. "Daniel said you liked steak?"

"Yes," Max says. Sephine wants to hold his baby. Max also wants to hold his baby but he holds Bastiaan all the time, and Bastiaan deserves more friends. He's also a very lovely little baby, so it is of course very normal that Sephine and Cyril both want to hold him. Sephine cradles Bastiaan in her arms. She tells Max that her and Cyril have never had children, but they have nephews and nieces and they love having babies visit.

Bastiaan won't know if he has cousins. He doesn't have another daddy, and Max's family is somewhere else. It's okay. Max will be enough for him. He's promised.

Cyril takes Daniel off to get drinks, leaving Sephine with Max.

"We're very happy to have you here," Sephine says. "It must have been very difficult to travel with a baby this little."

"He's a very good baby," Max says. "But everything is of course very new to him which must be very scary."

"Yes," Sephine says. "I'd probably cry too. But you must be very tired after such a big change in your life."

Max has been very tired for a very long time. He doesn't remember not feeling tired. He hasn't felt properly awake since the last time he was in a Formula 1 car. "I can do it," he says. "I can look after Bastiaan."

"I know," Sephine says. She smiles at him. Rocks Max's baby, who is quietly taking it all in. "Cyril's ecstatic you're going to be coming on board. Thinks you're a real talent."

"I won't let him down," Max says. He can't. This is the only chance he has, and he won't fuck it up. He'll have to figure out how to get to racing fitness again with Bastiaan in tow. That's another thing he hasn't thought enough about. He doesn't have to figure it out tonight, but he doesn't know how it's going to happen.

Cyril and Daniel come back in bearing wine glasses and bottles of red wine.

"You're not drinking alcohol, I don't think," Cyril says to Max.

"I don't think the baby will like wine very much," Max says. Daniel's got a bottle of iced water in one hand. He winks at Max.

"There's coconut water too," Daniel says. "I picked some up for you. You used to like that, right? Water first?"

Max did. He nods. "Thank you, Daniel."

"Any time," Daniel says. He pours the water for Max as Cyril pours three glasses of wine for the rest of them. Sephine is still cooing at Bastiaan, and Daniel comes to join her on the sofa. Cyril gets a folder of papers from the bag by the door.

"Your contract," Cyril says. "Get your lawyer to look over it. Your manager. Whoever you need. I think you'll find it's very fair but I know you will have comments. Legal will send a copy to your inbox too now the paper copy's been delivered."

Max holds the papers in his hand. "I don't have a lawyer," he says. "Or a manager. I'll look at it." He can't afford either a new lawyer or a manager and he's not going back to anyone who has contact with his dad. He sees Cyril and Daniel exchange glances, but Max refuses to go red.

"You can use my lawyer," Daniel says. "I've got contracted hours with him I'm not using because this guy's treating me too good." He tips his thumb in Cyril's direction. "Bit of contract negotiation will give him something to do."

Max looks at him.

Daniel shrugs. "Going to waste otherwise. I'll text him now." He looks at Cyril. "Might as well send him the contract direct. He can start looking at it tonight."

Nobody asks why Max doesn't have a lawyer anymore. A manager. A team. Why he's not going back to Red Bull. Why his dad's not here. Why Max is alone. Why Bastiaan has nobody in his life but his daddy.

If anyone knew where to look, they'd find out that Max's pile of secrets is way too fucking high.

"How about a tour first for Max and this little one?" Sephine suggests. "Before we get stuck into talking about racing."

Daniel laughs. "We can talk about something other than racing."

"Can we?" Sephine grins. She lets Max take Bastiaan back, and Max tucks Bastiaan in against his chest. He positions him so that he can still see what's happening and make friends, but he can do it from the comfort of his daddy's arms, which both Bastiaan and Max prefer. "We haven't yet."

"Ehhh," Daniel says. "Come on, Bastiaan, you're going to love what Cyril's done with his office."

"Oh, a wallpaper aficionado," Cyril says, getting to his feet. "I see how it is."

Bastiaan rubs his cheek over Max's hoodie like he's enjoying himself too. Max's lovely little brave baby.

"He's a big wallpaper fan," Max glances at Daniel. He bites his lip, waiting to see if Daniel will laugh with him.

When Daniel does, Max can't help it; he laughs too.

"Tour," Sephine says. She hooks her hand through Max's elbow. She confides, "It really is nice wallpaper."

"Of course," Max agrees. When he looks over, Daniel winks at him.

Max hides his smile in a kiss to Bastiaan's head.

#my fic #maxiel #rivers of light #the mpreg train is leaving the station #(again)#made good use of a tired non working day and wrote this #max's lovely little brave baby #i am indulging myself by writing this and writing this and writing this

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endereies · 3 days ago

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I hate coming on this app to talk about insistent drama that follows each week, but here we are again. I don't just wanna talk about the most recent events in this message, but about everything that's happened this year especially.

Tumblr is our space to write fanfiction about three 21-year-old boys from Boston. That's it. I'm not sure what happened along the way, but we have had stalkers, pedophiles, death threats, slurs, and more. I'm also not sure where half this app got the audacity to act like that.

I come back from being inactive to see slurs thrown in a meme post with an appalling reply with another meme at the bottom. That just screams insincere to me, and it's offensive. The slurs were thrown in conversations where it didn't need a place. If you are allowed to say it, then fine. But that language, even if allowed, shouldn't have that much accessibility to an average conversation. To then publicly post that, not knowing the impact it may have on people is disgusting to me. I'm sure languages have enough words for you to use. It's literally the reason we are writers.

To then see messages complaining about the triplets, especially their appearances, also seems rude. They won't see those messages on your group chat and I hope they never do, because it's disrespectful. Calling them names based on how they look goes against all you write for, all you stand for. I can't begin to see reasons why you have a triplet group chat, just to make fun of them.

The only messages I have seen of this gc are the ones that are posted on @thetripouts , but I've hated each one I've seen. I've had no reason to click on them, I am not in the gc. Why would I click on messages that have no context or meaning. But seeing the odd message or so has given me a clear insight into this chat. And I want nothing to do with it. The language is belittling to other members, outside members, and the triplets themselves.

Why do we keep giving it a place to manifest. We don't need any bullshit or drama on this site. We never have. This negativity has caused many people to deactivate or become inactive. Seeing honest and wholesome creators become overwhelmed by the sight of the drama - let alone be involved in it - is upsetting to see.

I've seen people leave due to death threats, I've seen talk of death tossed around in casual conversation, disturbing some people. I, myself, have been affected by pedophilia and grooming. It's a horrible thing to be a part of and has no place on this app. No one deserves to be treated that way. Whether you intend it to be a joke or not doesn't mean you can dismiss people's feelings for the sake of humour.

We need to do better as a community, suck up your shitty messages and ideas when you're aware it causes nothing but problems. If you're unaware or uneducated, please reflect, educate and apologise. It's simple steps I'm sure a toddler could follow.

I'm sure half the people making drama know better, and are adult enough to make decisions that won't hurt another person. Yet it seems people don't think before they post. The Internet is a free place to say what you think, but respect is and always will have a place in conversation. Don't be an asshole.

I say this more times than I can count but let's just go back to writing our fanfiction, because it should never be this serious🤷‍♀️

#ᯓ★ endereies #kay speaks #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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dislikabledionysian · 3 days ago

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Ableism in the Hellenic Polytheist space

Before I start, today is seriously a low spoons day, so I hope all of this is coherent and makes sense.

I've noticed a large trend of covert ableism in this space recently. Both in terms of how making your practice more accessible is viewed, but also the way that the disabilities of other people get treated by other members of the community.

Obviously part of this post is in relation to the current debate that I'm seeing about offering the gods processed foods. The "hot Cheetos and monster" stuff that's going around. Before I get into this, please don't go harass anybody. I know at least one person who has made an opposite stance to mine known as received countless asks of them telling them horrible awful things. We can disagree and be civil, but if anyone who follows me feels the need to send anon hate to anyone over this, please just don't follow me. I don't want you here. With that disclaimer over, let's dig in.

No, I don't think the gods will view you any differently because you offer processed foods (or digital offerings that you put genuine time and energy and thought into!!!) If all that you can manage is genuinely Hot Cheetos and an unopened can of monster, that is a good, valid, and loved offering. If you are able to do more and you still decide to do that, that is still a perfectly valid offering. @fireandfennel made a really good post (linked here) about disability and offerings that explains it better than me, but an offering is a sacrifice. Processed foods are expensive, and often for us disabled people it's all that we can manage because we can't always cook or even prepare instant meals. To us that is a sacrifice. I would also argue that in this economy where junk food is more expensive than ever, it's a sacrifice for everyone that chooses to do it, because it is inherently more expensive than offering something like water. The idea that it has to come straight from the earth is a valid one, but is definitely not doable for all of us. I wish personally that I could be ass deep in the mud to be collecting clay, but I just physically can't. The other point that I would like to make about this is that almost everything that we consume is either processed or genetically modified. Unless you are offering something that you have grown yourself with no pesticides or anything, you are still offering a processed food of some sort. If you offer tap water, you are offering water that is treated with fluoride. If you are offering purified water, you are offering water that has had to be processed. In the modern day, 99% of us will not be giving offerings that aren't processed. We just aren't. To me this point stems from the idea that some people are Better Special Worshippers because they have the physical ability to do what others of us cannot. Which brings me to my second point.

Tumblr is ableist. This community is ableist. We need to do better. The way this has been handled by VERY LARGE creators is absolutely fucking insane to me. The idea of "just cut up an apple instead" is a crazy take because some people have mobility issues with their hands and arms, some people have issues with grip and coordination. Not everyone CAN "just" cut up an apple. For some people it's a big fucking task. I think truthfully that these people just aren't thinking about their disabled peers, though that's what I'm choosing to hope (rather than seeing the observable fact that these creators claim to be friends with disabled people, and still choose to be openly exclusionary towards them).

The way I've seen it handled in replies was worse. Someone in the comments of a post were even making fun of me personally because of a meme I posted regarding my mental illness, making jokes that I was attention seeking and it "made sense". Yeah I'm diagnosed with multiple conditions, and even if it's in memes, I AM going to talk about it so that other people feel less alone.

I've seen so many people say or imply that it's lazy to offer junk food. Listen if you're offering what you have and it's with clean hands and good intentions, the gods love you.

Anyway my point to this is that Tumblr has been really fucking ableist lately with the way they've been handling offerings, and it's really disappointing because the ones I've seen do it are large accounts. This is not okay. We are better than this as a community.

For all the disabled folks like me, you are welcome here. You are welcome on my account, you are welcomed by Dionysus. The gods are for everyone and they understand, even when other humans don't.

#hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic pagan #hellenic polythiest #greek mythology #digital offerings #offerings #helpol elitism

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 days ago

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Elias “Stack” Moore nsfw alphabet.

this is me replying to a request that asked for both Stack and Smoke, but i wanted to post them seperately, so here yall go.

you can find the Smoke alphabet here

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Depends a lot on who you are and what your guy's relationship is, and where you guys are like physically. If you two are somewhere safe, and you mean something to him, then I get the feeling that Stack can be quite affectionate and sweet when it comes to aftercare. I do see him struggling to get aftercare in return though, cuz he isnt used to being vulnerable.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, I think it would be his arms and torso, maybe his teeth and smile, cuz he knows its a moneymaker. On his partner, its their eyes, neck, shoulders and thighs. (kinda foreshadowing, ya know?)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Isn't the type to find it gross or anything, so if you want too, you can get it all over him. Will snowball you though, so be prepared for that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a bit of a blood kink, but he thinks it's a result of all the messed-up shit he's seen and done in his life, that it's kinda messed with his head a little too much in some areas. During this period, having attraction to men would most likely also be a real dirty secret, so theres that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced, with women at least. With men, you might be one of his first, if not the first that he actually acknowledges as something intimate.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Like to ride, or be ridden. When hes feeling extra affectionate he does missionary. He groans about not being flexible enough, but you throwing his legs over your shoulders gets him going too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Hes the goofier of the twins, so you can expect some jokes to be cracked. Hes made too many cowboy jokes to count, especially if you are one, or at least wear a hat like one.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don't think most guys are as well groomed during that period as now, but I could imagine Stack still keeping himself neater than most. He won't use hours on it or anything, but he likes being presentable at least.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, depends on your guy's relationship. I can see it getting really emotional and intimate if you are both guys though, since it has to be kept a secret unless you guys wanna get killed. The kinda guy to kiss you like he wants to be one with you, like he can express it all through his lips instead of words. (I can imagine Remmick using this to manipulate him as well)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Does it a healthy amount, not too much and not too little. Doesnt see it as taboo or anything, and has probably used it as stress relief multiple times.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blood kink

Knife kink

Likes it when it hurts a little, so he's also the type not to prep himself fully

Spit and drool, spit in his mouth please

Bondage

Risky locations, the danger of it gets his rocks off so fast

Major praise kink, but wont admit it

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could do it anywhere, but his favorite is just somewhere where you guys can be alone and intimate. That, and has probably done it once or twice in the back of the car, when you guys can get away with it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Hes pretty easy to get going, but that also comes from you guys having to deny yourselves so much, so you probably aren't much better. After some time, you guys are able to communicate through your eyes, since you can't really touch on each other and all that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Share, unless it's like, with Smoke I think. You would be the only one receiving though, and he gets jealous quickly. He acts all sweet and charming, but you know how possessive he can get.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Has a bit of a gag reflex, but it's not so bad that he can't deepthroat you every now and then. He starts coughing and tearing up though. Prefers giving, and will also eat out the back if you allow it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most of the time you guys have a very fast pace, rutting in some dark room or hidden area as you clamp a hand over his mouth. But when the chance presents itself, you guys will take your time and truly feel one another.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Its most of what you guys do, since its really all you can get. But you and Stack like “going for rides” and doing stuff that “isn't anyone's business” to spend time together.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

A risk taker, sometimes too much of a risk taker with where you guys do it and how loud he lets himself be. Can also get pretty risky with that knife of his, especially when he wants you to use it on him. Theres been a time or two where Smoke thought someone attacked Stack because there was a cut on his neck, never too deep, but enough to be noticeable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Has pretty great stamina when you guys get the chance to actually use it. All your quickies has made both of you kind of quick shots though. Doesn't mean you guys can't draw it out though, it just doesn't happen a lot.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he owns any toys of any kind, and neither do you. Closest you guys get to that has to be some ropes or a tie or two.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A real tease when he can get away with it. I imagine he used the full party at the juke joint you get to touch you when nobody would notice in the huge crowd. Would say the raunchiest stuff too. Will whisper in your ear, to everyone else it just looks like he's sharing something personal, maybe business, but it's him saying how bad he needs you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Could get really loud if you let him, but he rarely gets the chance. Has a hard time controlling his volume when it gets really good, so you always end up having to cover his mouth, which just drives him even more wild.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I like to think he wears a ring you gave him before he left. He will claim it's just one he picked up that he likes, even if it's pretty ugly, or low quality compared to all the other high-quality stuff he gets over the years. Won't wear it on his ring finger, but its either on his pinkie or middle finger, cuz that's all he can give you.

Smoke knows what is going on between you two, but assuming you've known them for a long time, then hes known for just as long. It would be why he's so intense when there are signs of your relationship though, cuz he wants to keep Stack safe. He won't stop you guys though.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average in length, but just average in thickness. Cut, cuz I read somewhere that he might have been, so.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty damn high, but he's just a yearner in general. You guys not getting to kiss on each other and be together whenever you want only adds to this. Gets so bad that Stack will keep a handkerchief or something similar with your cologne on so he can smell it when he's alone.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Neither of you guys get to sleep much after your time together, cuz it has to be quick and quiet. But when you guys are able, Stack will lay awake for as long as possible so you guys can just hold each other and talk.

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