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cressidagrey · 2 days ago

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White Horse - Chapter 26: July 2024 - Part 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes:

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

The conference room was sleek and quiet — all minimalist design, smooth wood, and muted light. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over Monaco’s marina, but Belle barely registered the view. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, one leg crossed over the other, Max’s knee brushing hers beneath the table like a silent anchor.

Belle sat beside Max at a long table in a private meeting room, her hands folded carefully in her lap. The lawyer — a tall, gentle-voiced woman named Monique with sharp eyes and an expensive watch — smiled politely as she turned the final page of a stack of documents.

She had known about the pregnancy since Max had called last week and said, “We need to make sure she’s protected. Properly.”

It hadn’t been dramatic. There were no tears. No whispered breakdowns.

Just Max, calm and steady, saying "my wife is having our child, and I want everything in place if I don’t come home."

And Belle had agreed. Because love like theirs wasn’t made of denial.

It was made of preparation.

Monique spoke first.

“I’ve drafted the new will, updated with the marriage registration and the preliminary trust structure for the baby.” She slid a folder across the table to Max. “It’s standard language, but I can walk you through it.”

Max nodded. “Let’s do that.”

Belle glanced at the page — her name in clean legal font at the top. It still startled her sometimes. Isabelle Verstappen. A name that felt more like a promise than a title.

Monique continued, calm and clear. “Everything’s been updated as requested. The property title adjustment will be processed this week, and the new will reflects both your marriage and the pending addition to your family. In the event of Max’s death, Belle inherits all real estate assets, including the Monaco apartment, She also has controlling interest in the holding companies and exclusive guardianship of the child. There is a clause allowing her to appoint a secondary guardian if needed, and a separate financial trust to be accessed at her discretion for the child’s care.”

Belle’s fingers tensed slightly on her notebook.

Max reached under the table, slid his hand into hers.

Monique continued. “You both now hold medical power of attorney for one another. In the event of a serious injury or incapacitation, decisions will legally fall to the surviving spouse. The trust for the child will be activated upon birth and can be revised at any time.”

Belle blinked. “You’ve already set up a trust?”

Max nodded beside her. “I wanted it in place before they got here.”

Monique smiled. “It’s not uncommon for high-risk professions.”

High-risk. Belle hated that word.

Monique glanced at Max. “There’s a healthcare proxy included as well. You’ve named your wife as the sole decision-maker if you’re incapacitated.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Belle didn’t speak for a moment. Just breathed. Absorbed.

Because here it was. In print. In contracts and clauses and notarized certainty.

This man — who drove faster than anyone else on earth — was handing her the most fragile parts of his life and saying I trust you.

Not out of fear.

But out of love.

Monique gave them a moment before gently flipping to the next document. “There’s just one more point of discussion — guardianship, in the event that… well, neither of you are able to care for your child.”

Belle straightened.

“Obviously we don’t need an answer right this second,” Monique added, professional but kind. “But it’s something we do recommend including in advance. Just in case.”

Belle didn’t hesitate.

“Victoria and Tom.”

Max glanced at her, surprised.

“They already have three kids,” she said softly. “Their home is overflowing with love. Lio and Luka would be like big brothers. Hailey a big sister. ”

Max looked at her for a long moment — not surprised, just… moved.

“Okay,” he said, quietly, final. “Victoria and Tom.”

Monique made a quiet note, then gathered the papers. “That’s all for today. You’re welcome to take copies home, review anything again, but legally — everything’s in place.”

Belle signed.

Her name — Isabelle Verstappen — in clean, looping ink at the bottom of the page. Not to take something away. But to build something forward.

Belle hesitated. “Is there… anything else?”

Monique raised an eyebrow gently. “Such as?”

Belle glanced down at her lap. “I thought Max might… want me to sign something else.”

Silence.

Then, Max’s hand slid over hers beneath the table. “You mean a prenup?”

Belle nodded once.

Monique blinked, surprised. “There’s nothing of the sort, Belle. That was never discussed.”

Belle looked at Max, who met her eyes steadily.

“I didn’t marry you with conditions,” he said simply. “What’s mine is yours. What’s ours is already half your idea anyway.”

Belle stared at him for a second — stunned, soft, wrecked.

Then she cleared her throat. “Okay. That’s… not what I expected. But okay.”

When it was done, Monique gathered the documents, promising scans and copies by end of day.

The room emptied, polite and efficient.

Belle stayed seated.

Max didn’t move either.

She finally turned to him. “That felt…”

“Big?” he offered.

She nodded.

“But good,” she added, quieter now. “Because this is ours. Our life. Our family. Even the scary parts.”

Max kissed her temple. “That’s why we’re here.”

Her hand found his on the table, fingers lacing together.

“I hope none of it ever matters,” she whispered.

He looked down at their names on the signed pages.

“It already does,” he said.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: Hey You got a minute?

Victoria: For you? Always What’s up?

Max: Belle and I had a meeting with the lawyers today We’re setting everything up properly Just in case something ever happens

Victoria: Okay… Everything alright?

Max: Yeah. Everything’s good. More than good We just want to be smart about things

Victoria: Of course So… what do you need from me?

Max: We listed you and Tom as guardians For the baby If anything ever happens to us

Max: I wanted to ask you first Properly Not just throw your name on a form

Victoria: Max. Yes. Obviously. Always. You didn’t even have to ask. But I’m really, really glad you did.

Max: Belle said it without blinking She trusts you too

Victoria: Now I’m crying in the supermarket, thanks 🙄

Max: Sorry (But not really)

Victoria: We’ll take care of them. No matter what. But nothing’s going to happen to you, okay?

Max: Yeah I know Still I sleep better knowing it’s you

Victoria: We love you. And we love her. And we already love this baby.

Max: Thanks, Vic. Really.

***

The therapy room was quiet in the way only tension could make it — not peaceful, but primed. A silence that hummed with everything unsaid, everything tiptoed around for years.

Belle sat on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her pulse thrumming just beneath her skin like a warning. Every muscle in her body was taut — trying to hold everything in place. Her blouse, loose by design, felt suddenly too tight across her chest. She hadn’t been sleeping. She hadn’t eaten lunch. There was a dull ache in her temples, a sharper one behind her ribs.

Max was beside her.

He hadn’t spoken.

He hadn’t even moved, aside from the occasional brush of his thumb against hers.

But his presence was solid. Anchoring. The one thing in this room that didn’t make her feel like she had to prove she belonged.

Across from her, her family sat arranged like a tableau of old fractures: Pascale, elegant but weary, lips pressed tightly together; Arthur, fidgeting in his chair, worry written into the curve of his brow; Lorenzo, arms folded like a gate; and Charles — the one who hadn’t looked at her properly once since she’d walked in.

Camille, the therapist, smiled gently. “Thank you all for being here. We’re here to listen first. Belle, since you asked for this session, would you like to begin?”

Belle nodded, throat tight. “I don’t expect this to fix everything. But I wanted to give you a chance to hear me. I’ve felt invisible for a long time. And I know that might not have been your intention, but it doesn’t make it less real.”

She paused.

No one spoke.

She added, voice quiet but edged in iron: “And I’m not here to be blamed for how I coped with that.”

That was when Charles finally looked up. “Then maybe he shouldn’t be here.”

Max didn’t move.

Belle’s grip on his hand tightened.

Camille interjected gently. “Charles, we agreed to keep this space respectful—”

“Respectful?” Charles cut in, eyes flashing. “You brought him to a family session. The man who didn’t even tell me he married my sister. The one person guaranteed to turn this into a war.”

Belle’s voice cracked, quiet but firm. “Max is here because I want him here. He’s my family now. He supports me. He doesn’t speak over me or forget I exist unless it’s convenient.”

“You bring him here, like he has any right to sit in a family session—”

“Charles—” Camille began.

But he was already unraveling.

“—Like he didn’t make it worse. Like he didn’t encourage all of this—”

Belle flinched.

“Charles,” Max said, voice low but firm.

“You don’t get to talk—”

“Stop it!” Belle snapped, her voice breaking.

The sound echoed louder than shouting.

Everyone went still.

She stood — too quickly — and emotion spilled over before she could stop it. Her hands shook. Her breath hitched. Tears began streaming down her cheeks before she could blink them back.

“I invited him,” she said, trembling. “Because he’s the only one in this room who never made me feel like I had to earn his love. He didn’t ask me to shrink or wait or perform. He didn’t disappear until it was convenient to care again. He showed up.”

Arthur’s expression twisted with guilt. Pascale’s eyes filled with tears. Lorenzo exhaled like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“I tried for years to matter to you,” Belle whispered. “And when I finally stopped waiting, when I found something good, you acted like it was betrayal. It wasn’t. It was survival.”

But when Belle cried harder, silent and shaking, one hand pressed protectively to her stomach — a reflex now, a habit more than a choice — Max’s restraint cracked.

“Enough,” he said, voice sharp and fierce and final.

The entire room froze.

“This isn’t good for the baby.”

Everything. Stopped.

The silence that followed was different. Not tense — stunned. Heavy. Real.

Charles froze.

Pascale’s hand flew to her mouth.

Arthur blinked, mouth slightly open.

Lorenzo — unreadable, contained Lorenzo — lost every ounce of composure.

Belle sat, still breathing too fast, still cradling her abdomen like she didn’t even realize her hand was there.

“She’s crying in a therapist’s office because her own family forgot her,” Max said, his voice flat, controlled. “And she still came here hoping you’d be different. And you’re yelling at her like it’s her fault she stopped begging you to see her.”

“You—” Charles started.

Max’s eyes burned. “She’s pregnant. And this stress? This shouting? This guilt-tripping? It’s not just hurting her anymore. It’s hurting both of them.”

Real, stunned silence.

Belle covered her face with both hands, chest heaving.

Max moved instantly, kneeling beside her. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispered. “You gave them a chance. That’s more than they deserved.”

Camille cleared her throat gently, measured but soft. “Belle… thank you for being honest. Max, thank you for saying what needed to be said.”

Belle shook her head, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body ached with tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

Max didn’t let go of her.

He stood and turned to face them — not angry. Not cruel. Just done.

“She’s pregnant,” he repeated. “And she came here because she still believed you deserved the chance to be part of that. But if what you bring is more of this — more silence, more anger, more entitlement — then maybe she needs to stop giving chances to people who don’t know what to do with them.”

He sat beside Belle again, taking her hand in both of his.

She didn’t look up. She couldn’t. Her hand stayed curled over her belly, protective. Heartbroken.

Then, after a long, still moment—

“I didn’t know,” Charles said. Quiet. Shaken. “Isabelle, I didn’t… I swear, I didn’t know.”

“I know,” she whispered.“That’s the problem.”

More silence.

Then Pascale wiped at her eyes, voice shaking. “I want to be part of this. Not just the baby. You. I want to do better.”

Arthur nodded. “I will. I already started. But I’ll do more. Whatever you need.”

Lorenzo’s voice was hoarse. “You shouldn’t have had to say any of that alone.”

Camille waited. Then softly, “This is where it begins. Not with fixing. But with listening. With staying.”

Belle finally looked up.

Still hurt. Still guarded.

But in her eyes — something softened.

She didn’t say I forgive you.

She said something truer.

“You have a long way to go,” Belle said, voice rough.“But you’re here. That’s a start.”

***

By the time they got home, Belle hadn’t said a word.

Max didn’t push. He unlocked the door, opened it for her, let her walk through the apartment at her own pace. She moved like someone underwater — slow, dazed, like her body had been hollowed out.

She didn’t even take off her shoes.

She just stood in the middle of their living room, arms limp at her sides, until Max gently touched her elbow.

“Sit,” he said softly. “I’ll get you water.”

But she didn’t sit.

She crumpled.

It wasn’t a fall — not all at once — but something slower, sadder. She sank down onto the rug like her bones had given out, hands covering her face, breath catching in her throat.

Then the sobs came.

Max was beside her in an instant, sinking to his knees, gathering her into his arms without a second’s hesitation.

She curled into him like she’d been waiting all day for it. Like she’d finally let herself feel everything she hadn’t let show in front of them.

And Max—Max held her like he never intended to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, one hand stroking her back, the other cradling her head as she buried her face into his chest. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head against him, but he kept going.

“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” Max said, voice rough. “Not like that. I should’ve asked. I should’ve let you decide.”

Belle didn’t answer — not in words — but she held him tighter, and that was enough.

She cried for a long time.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just steady.

Heartbroken.

Max held her through all of it. Through the shaking, the ragged breathing, the muffled apologies she tried to whisper into his shoulder. He didn’t correct her. Didn’t argue. He just rubbed circles into her back and reminded her, again and again, in the softest voice he had:

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

At some point, he coaxed her into bed. She resisted, groggy and stubborn through the haze of exhaustion, but eventually let him pull back the covers and tuck her in. She wore his hoodie — one of the big, soft ones — and it swallowed her. Her hand still rested over her stomach as she lay on her side, eyes red and barely open.

Max kissed her temple, her forehead, her hand. He didn’t leave her side until her breathing evened out and she finally slipped into sleep.

Then — and only then — did he let himself move.

Quietly, he crossed the room to where his phone sat on the kitchen counter.

He didn’t text. Didn’t scroll.

He found the number for Belle’s doctor and sent a message requesting an appointment.

Tomorrow. Urgent if possible.

She hadn’t eaten all day.

She hadn’t slept properly in nearly a week.

And her crying tonight… it had shaken something in him.

She always carried things so quietly. Until she couldn’t anymore.

Max stood at the kitchen counter, staring down at his phone, still in his jeans and hoodie from earlier, and exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He couldn’t make her family change.

But he could protect this.

Her.

Their baby.

He would make sure she was seen, cared for, and safe — even if it meant dragging the world into a quiet, burning rage to make it happen.

The phone buzzed with a confirmation.

Appointment: Tomorrow. 9:30 AM.

Max looked back toward the bedroom.

Belle was asleep, one arm curled under her pillow, still holding her stomach like a shield.

And Max made himself a promise.

They would never make her cry like that again.

Not while he was breathing.

***

The four of them sat in stunned silence.

The therapy room door had closed behind Belle and Max ten minutes ago, but no one had moved since. Camille had offered them space to process, and they’d taken it — not because they needed it, but because they didn’t know what else to do.

Charles sat with his hands clenched in his lap, staring at the floor like it had betrayed him. Pascale held a tissue tightly in one hand, face pale, mascara faintly smudged beneath her eyes. Lorenzo’s arms were crossed — his usual stoicism barely holding under the tension in his jaw.

And Arthur — the youngest— was pacing.

Charles finally broke the silence. “She’s pregnant.”

“Yes,” Arthur said flatly, not looking at him.

Charles blinked, still stunned. “She’s actually—she didn’t even tell us.”

“She didn’t owe us that,” Arthur snapped, turning to face them. “Not after everything.”

Pascale looked up. “Arthur—”

“No,” he said, sharper than they’d ever heard him. “No. I’m not doing this. We’re not going to sit here and act like we’re the wounded ones.”

“She should’ve told us,” Charles muttered. “We’re her family—”

Arthur rounded on him. “Then maybe we should’ve acted like it.”

That landed.

Charles looked up, startled.

Arthur laughed — a short, bitter sound. “You really don’t get it, do you? Belle spent years trying to be seen. Trying to be heard. Every time she did something good, we clapped for a second and then went back to talking about karting or my race result or whatever Charles was doing that week.”

“That’s not fair,” Charles said stiffly.

“No?” Arthur said, eyes narrowing. “Name where she was when she graduated top of her class. You remember what we sent her?”

Charles didn’t answer.

“Exactly,” Arthur snapped. “Nothing. We forgot. We forgot her birthday, Charles. And even then, she didn’t scream at us. She just stopped trying.”

“I didn’t mean to forget—”

“You didn’t mean to notice her, either,” Arthur said, quieter now. “But Max did.”

That silenced the room.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, pacing again. “You know what gets me the most? She still gave us a chance. She walked in there, pregnant, vulnerable, and hoping maybe we’d finally show up. And what did we do?”

He looked at Charles.

“You shouted at her husband.”

He looked at Lorenzo.

“You stayed quiet until she was crying.”

Then he looked at Pascale.

“And you only spoke when Max said the word baby.”

Pascale’s lip trembled. “I didn’t know.”

“She didn’t trust us with it,” Arthur said, softer now. “And that’s the part that should scare you. Not Max. Not the secret wedding. Not the baby. The fact that she didn’t feel safe enough to tell us.”

Lorenzo exhaled slowly, some of the anger draining from his posture.

Charles looked like he’d been hollowed out.

“She was holding her stomach,” Pascale whispered. “Even when she cried, she—she protected the baby. From us.”

Arthur nodded. “Exactly.”

Silence again.

And then, for the first time in a long time, Arthur looked at them all — older brother, older brother, mother — and stood taller than he ever had.

“No one is making her cry like that again,” he said. “Not if I can help it.”

Charles swallowed hard. “So what do we do?”

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “You start by earning a place back in her life. Slowly. Without demands. Without entitlement. You show her you’ve changed. And if you haven’t? You step aside.”

No one argued.

No one could.

Because they’d all seen what Arthur had — a sister at the end of her rope, still trying to offer them grace.

And they’d nearly broken her again.

But maybe not completely.

Maybe, if they were lucky, there was still time to do better.

To be better.

To finally be family in the way Belle had deserved all along.

***

Belle woke to sunlight and silence.

Her eyes burned. Her head ached. Her throat felt tight from the hours she’d spent crying into Max’s chest the night before. For a long time, she just lay there — curled on her side, one hand resting against the soft curve of her stomach, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing against her skin like bruises she hadn’t earned.

Max wasn’t in bed.

That was the first thing she noticed.

But when she pushed back the covers and sat up, she could hear him. Low voices. The sound of him in the kitchen. Coffee brewing. Something being cut on a chopping board.

When she padded out into the hallway, Max looked up instantly.

“You’re awake,” he said gently. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked at him. He was already dressed — hoodie, jeans, hair still damp from a quick shower. He looked like he hadn’t slept, though she had no idea when he’d crawled into bed beside her. All she remembered was him holding her until her tears stopped.

“Tired,” she said honestly. “Drained. Like I fought a war in a hotel lobby.”

Max’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. Not really. He poured her a glass of water and walked it over.

“You need to get dressed,” he said softly. “We’ve got an appointment at 9:30.”

Belle blinked. “Appointment?”

“With your OB.”

She stared at him. “You made a doctor’s appointment?”

Max looked… sheepish. In that way only Max Verstappen ever could — a little bit guilty, but completely unapologetic. “You were crying for over an hour. You didn’t eat. You didn’t sleep until after midnight. You kept holding your stomach like it hurt and I just—” He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need to be sure everything is okay. With you. With the baby.”

Something inside her cracked — not with annoyance, not even embarrassment, but with a kind of vulnerable affection that made her chest ache.

“I’m fine,” she said, quietly.

Max didn’t argue.

But he looked at her like fine would never be good enough again.

They left ten minutes later.

She wore leggings and one of Max’s hoodies, too tired to care. Her hair was in a bun, her face bare. Max had packed snacks and a water bottle in her bag like he was preparing for a cross-country drive. He opened the car door for her without a word. Held her hand at every red light.

The clinic was quiet when they arrived — not many patients that early. A nurse smiled at them, already familiar with Belle, and waved them through. Max never let go of her hand.

The doctor — kind, warm, sharp-eyed — asked gentle questions. Belle answered them all in a quiet voice.

“Any unusual cramping? Headaches? Nausea? Emotional stress?”

Belle glanced at Max, then gave a small, exhausted laugh. “Define unusual.”

The doctor smiled, then softened. “What you went through yesterday? It matters. Stress does affect the body, but you’re here now. We’ll check everything.”

And they did.

A blood pressure cuff. A blood draw. The gentle press of a fetal doppler wand against her stomach.

Then— The soft, rhythmic sound of a heartbeat.

Max’s fingers tightened around hers. He didn’t say anything. But when Belle looked at him — really looked — she saw it in his face: that fierce, wordless love that had carried her out of that therapy room and straight into this one.

The doctor smiled. “Heartbeat sounds perfect. Baby’s strong. And you’re doing better than you think.”

Belle let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Max pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I just wanted to be sure,” he whispered. “I couldn’t watch you cry like that and not do something.”

Belle closed her eyes.

Then, without even thinking about it, she rested her head against his shoulder and whispered:

“Thank you.”

Because it was more than an appointment.

It was a promise.

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: how’d it go yesterday?

i waited until morning because i didn’t want to be that friend but also i’ve been lying awake since 6 trying to imagine how many things charles said wrong in under an hour

Belle: you waited like a saint you get a medal

Emilie: oh good you’re alive that’s step one

Emilie: how bad was it scale of 1 to “i considered throwing my shoe at someone”?

Belle: i cried max snapped everyone went quiet and then Max accidentally revealed i’m pregnant because he couldn’t watch me sob anymore

so ...somewhere between “shoe-throwing” and “emotional napalm”

Emilie: WHAT

Emilie: MAX DROPPED THE BABY BOMB IN THERAPY??? WITH CHARLES THERE??

Belle: yep :)

Emilie: oh my GOD how is max still alive how are YOU

Belle: tired kind of hollow but also maybe... a tiny bit relieved?

it was a mess but they listened eventually i think

Emilie: do i need to bring cake or a shovel or both

Belle: both but i’m okay now doctor said everything’s good with the baby max scheduled the appointment himself

Emilie: of course he did husband of the year defender of the bump destroyer of sibling egos

Belle: he really did go full “don’t make her cry it’s bad for the baby” in front of everyone it was... a moment

Emilie: i would’ve PAID to see that wait no someone in that therapy room owes you money for that performance

Belle: arthur tried maman cried lorenzo looked like someone slapped him charles sat down and didn’t speak again

Emilie: is it terrible that i find this deeply satisfying

Belle: no it’s why i love you

Emilie: seriously though i’m proud of you i know how much this cost you and you still showed up

Belle: i’m trying for the baby for me

Emilie: and when you’re ready for step two i’ll be there with tea and probably more sarcasm than is healthy

Belle: perfect i love you

Emilie: i love you too, belle you’ve got this

***

Team Redline Stream Transcript

Luke Crane: Max. My guy. My married guy.

Gianni Vechio: Is it Verstappen or Mr. Leclerc now? Just checking.

Max (deadpan): I’m already regretting logging on.

Luke Bennett: You regret logging on? Imagine our shock when the paddock exploded because someone casually dropped a kiss in Parc Fermé like it was no big deal.

Max: (muted chuckle) It was a race. I won. Belle was there. That’s all.

Chris Lulham:: “That’s all.” HE SAYS. Like he didn’t casually change the internet’s collective brain chemistry.

Luke Crane: Bro, you were standing there looking like you'd just won the title and found true love.

Gianni: THE WAY YOU LOOKED AT HER.

Chris: THE HAND ON HER WAIST.

Gianni: THE KISS, MAX.

Max: (muttering) You guys are insufferable.

Luke Bennett: I’m sorry — did we not deserve to know that your secret wife is Isabelle Leclerc?!?

Max: She wasn’t secret.

All at once: YES SHE WAS.

Luke: Where is she anyway? We’ve earned this. Bring her on stream.

Max: She’s not going to—

Gianni: MAX. YOU OWE US.

Chris: SHOW US YOUR WIFE. SHOW US THE MYSTICAL INTERIOR ARCHITECT GODDESS WHO FIXED YOUR PENTHOUSE.

Max: You people are insane.

Luke (chanting): BELLE. BELLE. BELLE. BELLE.

Chat:

BELLE! BELLE! BELLE!

WHERE IS SHE MAX

DROP THE WIFE

MRS VERSTAPPEN SUPREMACY

WE SAW THE RING SIR

MAX BLINK TWICE IF YOU MARRIED UP (we know you did)

Max: (sighing, amused) Belle?

[muffled in the background] Belle: Yes?

Max: They want to say hi.

Belle: (closer) They want to do what?

Max: Just come here for a second, Schatje. They’re not going to shut up otherwise.

[Belle leans into frame wearing one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies, hair up, tea mug in hand.]

Belle: Hi.

Chat: OMG IT’S HERMRS MAX IS REALSHE’S SO PRETTY WHAT THE HELLTHE HOODIE IS KILLING MEMAX MARRIED A QUEENINTERIOR DESIGN SLAYI CANNOT BREATHEMAX YOU ARE OUTKICKING YOUR COVERAGECHARLES CURRENTLY DEAD BECAUSE HIS SISTER IS WEARING RED BULL MERCH

Luke Crane: Okay. So first of all, Belle. Thank you for putting up with this idiot.

Belle: (drily.) He’s nothing to put up with. He’s something to treasure.

Gianni: We just wanted to say congratulations. And also... how did you keep it secret for this long?

Belle: (shrugging): People only see what they want to see. We never hid it. We just didn’t make it obvious.

Chris: Oh my god she’s articulate. You really married up.

Max: (soft, proud) Yeah. I did.

Belle: (grinning, pressing a kiss to Max’s cheek, making him blush) Anyway. That’s enough fame for one evening. Bye boys.

[Belle exits frame. Max looks extremely smug.]

Max: You happy now?

Luke Crane: Beyond.

Chris: I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter:

@/GridGossip: MAX VERSTAPPEN’S WIFE JUST SHOWED UP ON TEAM REDLINE STREAM IN HIS HOODIE WITH A MUG OF TEA AND SAID “HE’S NOTHING TO PUT UP WITH: HE’S SOMETHING TO TREASURE.” I AM NOT OKAY.

@/TifosiTears: CHARLES LECLERC IS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE AND HIS SISTER IS OUT HERE IN RED BULL MERCH KISSING MAX ON STREAM. I’M SCREAMING.

@/F1TeaSpiller So to recap: → Belle Leclerc kissed Max in Parc Fermé → Changed her name on IG → Is apparently married?? → Wore his hoodie on stream → And the grid is collectively feral. 10/10. No notes.

@/SoftLaunchSociety The Red Bull hoodie. The tea mug. The unbothered queen energy. Belle Verstappen didn’t soft launch — she hard dropped and said “you’ll catch up.”

@/RedBullUpdates: BELLE VERSTAPPEN WALKED INTO FRAME LOOKING COZY, SMUG, AND MARRIED. WE HAVE LOST CONTROL OF THE NARRATIVE.

@/FerrariPain: charles leclerc when he realizes his sister wore red bull merch in 4k: 🧍‍♂️😐💔

@/WifeGuyMax: max verstappen grinning like a man who knows he married out of his league and then blushed when she kissed his cheek this is romcom content i never expected from sim racing

@/F1MemeLord: Team Redline: Show us your wife Max: She’s not gonna— Belle Verstappen, already wearing his hoodie and holding tea like a queen: Hi Me: this is better than Netflix

@/MonacoRoyalty: i want belle’s PR team forgotten by her family? married in monaco? red bull hoodie and soft lighting? KNEW exactly when to show up. this girl is PLAYING CHESS.

@/MaxEmotionsFan Max: (quietly, proudly) “Yeah. I did.” Me, in tears: and you DID, Max. he married his girl.

@/F1ChaosClub: charles leclerc forgot his sister’s birthday and now she’s on twitch in a red bull hoodie being called “queen” by 600,000 viewers. you literally could not write this better.

@/GridPsychics: prediction: Charles is currently pacing his Monaco apartment wondering if it's too late to be a supportive brother spoiler: it might be

@/F1FanFictionCentral plot twist: Max Verstappen wasn’t the emotionally unavailable villain. He was the surprise wife guy all along.

@/TifosiMeltdown: Everyone’s like “awww Max and Belle are so cute 🥺” Meanwhile Charles Leclerc is living in the eighth circle of PR hell because his baby sister is in Red Bull merch on Twitch with his literal racing rival

@/SoftLaunchScholar: The Max & Belle reveal timeline is a case study:

Ignored birthday

Secret wedding

Parc Fermé kiss

Instagram name change

Twitch hoodie wife drop This is art.

@/F1Lorekeeper: The fact that Charles forgot Belle’s birthday and then found out she married Max Verstappen two weeks later

And now she’s drinking tea in Max’s stream wearing Red Bull gear

I genuinely think we’re watching a live sibling rivalry rewrite Greek tragedy @/MonacoRoyalty: Belle said “we didn’t hide it, you just weren’t looking” and the Leclerc family should NEVER recover from that

@/CharlesIsCrying: no because BELLE VERSTAPPEN appearing on stream in Red Bull merch while the internet still hasn’t healed from the forgotten birthday incident??

Charles is somewhere short-circuiting in real time

***

It was raining softly against the windows when Belle brought it up.

They were curled up on the sofa — Max in joggers and a hoodie, Belle tucked against his side with a blanket draped over her legs, her cheek resting on his chest. The television hummed quietly with some old documentary neither of them were watching. Max’s hand traced slow, absentminded circles against the bump that had started to become undeniable beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt.

“We should probably tell the rest soon,” Belle murmured.

Max didn’t answer right away. His fingers stilled, then resumed their gentle pattern.

“I know,” he said. “I just… don’t want it to turn into a thing.”

Belle lifted her head slightly to look at him. “Like… a press release thing? Photoshoot? Magazines? Perfect lighting and fake candids of us in a meadow somewhere?”

He let out a soft snort. “Can you picture me in a meadow?”

Belle smiled. “Only if you were holding a kitten and a baby goat.”

“Belle.”

“Okay, fine, just the baby goat.”

Max laughed into her shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “No photoshoots. No flower crowns.” He made a face. “No soft-focus, perfectly lit, black-and-white Instagram announcement with matching white outfits and hands shaped like a heart.”

She laughed softly, burying her nose in his shirt. “The horror.”

“I mean, unless you want that,” Max added quickly. “If you want that, I’ll do it. I’ll even wear linen.”

Belle looked up at him again, mock-serious. “Max, you’d rather crash into a gravel trap at Monaco than wear linen on purpose.”

“Correct.”

She smiled against his hoodie. “I just… I don’t want it to feel like I’m trying to prove something.”

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Max said, his voice low. Sure. “You’re pregnant. You’re my wife. That’s it.”

Belle glanced up at him. “You say that like it's simple.”

“It is.” He tilted his head a little, thoughtful. “So how do you want to do it?”

She shrugged. “Something honest. Quiet, but… real.”

Max was quiet for a beat. “You mean, like the wedding.”

Belle smiled. “Exactly like the wedding.”

He leaned forward and kissed the side of her head. “We can do quiet. That’s our specialty.”

She chuckled, then bit her lip. “I was thinking… what if we just posted a photo? Not even of us. Just a pair of tiny shoes on the coffee table and a caption like, ‘Coming soon.’”

Max grinned. “You want to break the internet again.”

“I want to give it to us first,” she said. “And let everyone else catch up later.”

Max looked at her like she hung the stars. “Deal.”

They sat in silence again, the kind that meant safety.

“I don’t need the whole world to know at once,” Belle murmured, her voice softening. “I just want to share it in a way that feels like us. Not a brand.”

Max pulled her closer, his hand still resting protectively over the bump neither of them could stop reaching for.

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Belle: Thinking of announcing the pregnancy before Silverstone.

Emilie: oh?? as in… telling the entire planet??

Belle: Yep. Before I start showing enough that people start whispering.

Emilie: You mean before more people start whispering You okay with going public?

Belle: I think so. We’ve been quiet long enough. Besides… Silverstone’s always a circus. May as well drop the baby news before the clowns arrive.

Emilie: Iconic behavior tbh Do I get a heads up before the post goes up so I can prepare emotionally

Belle: Of course. Also— You should come.

Emilie: To Silverstone??

Belle: Yes.

Emilie: Belle. That’s Lando’s home race.

Belle: And you like Lando.

Emilie: I do not like what this insinuation implies.

Belle: You like him. He adores you. Your flirting during dinner could’ve powered the entire paddock.

Emilie: Okay first of all That’s rude And accurate

Belle: Come anyway. Come as my friend. Not as Lando’s girlfriend.

Emilie: …you are dangerously persuasive.

Belle: Lily’s coming too. It’ll be fun. You, me, Lily, a very grumpy Max pretending not to be nervous about the baby stealing his press conference thunder.

Emilie: You really think the baby will upstage Max?

Belle: If she has my hair and his eyes, absolutely.

Emilie: oh my god if it’s a girl with his grumpy face and your attitude the world is not ready

Belle: Exactly. Which is why you need to be there. Help me judge the chaos.

Emilie: Okay okay Fine But if Lando tries to make things serious while I’m there I am blaming you

Belle: Deal. You’ll be the secret girlfriend, I’ll be the public wife. We’ll keep balance in the universe.

Emilie: Verstappen-Leclerc diplomatic summit in Silverstone Can’t wait.

Belle: You bring the wine. I’ll bring the reveal.

***

Instagram Post: @/belleverstappen

Comments:

@/maxverstappen1: 🍼❤️

@/danielricciardo: I’M GOING TO BE THE FUN UNCLE CALLING IT NOW

@/landonorris: AAAAAHHHHHHHHH 🍼😭❤️

@/alex_albon:The baby already has better fashion sense than me and it’s not even born yet.

@/oscarpiastri: Congratulations!! So happy for you both 🤍

@/charles_leclerc: Congratulations. Truly.

@/georgerussell63: Huge congrats!

@/arthur_leclerc: 🥹❤️ You’re going to be the best mum, Belle.

@/yukitsunoda0511: baby Verstappen with Leclerc sass?? terrifying. adorable. congratulations!!!

@/sebastianvettel: Welcome to the next adventure. You’ll both be amazing parents. 💛

@/carlossainz55: The paddock is already preparing the next generation of chaos.

@/f1girlie44: BELLE IS GONNA BE A MUM I’M SOBBING

@/leclercsrevengearc: Max winning races, hearts, and fatherhood. Charles losing sleep. Balance.

@/gridgossip: Between the birthday drama, the Red Bull hoodie, the Parc Fermé kiss and now THIS — Belle Verstappen has had a better character arc than half the grid.

@/victoriaverstappen: Best news of the year 🍼 Can’t wait to meet this little one!!

@/f1: We love a future champion in the making 👶🏽🏁

@/verstappensupremacy:

I KNEW THE RED BULL HOODIE WAS FORESHADOWING

MAX IS GOING TO BE A DAD I’M CRYING

@/f1babygossip:

Baby Verstappen is going to have the softest mama and the most aggressively protective papa and I LOVE THAT FOR THEM

@/charlespls:

someone go check on charles

she posted this BEFORE A RACE WEEKEND

we need an ambulance at Ferrari

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nothanksofficer · 2 days ago

Text

we are all sinners (imagine)

starring: you, remmick, and bo pairing: remmick/reader & bo/reader warnings: slight nsfw, open-at-your-own-risk, dark romance, vampirism, corruption, moral and literal seduction, temptation, sharing is caring(?), reverse harem(ish), hive-mind, manipulation summary: in this world, there is no grace chow. only y/n chow. and boy, does that have consequences word count: 1k+ list: 0.1 1.0

"because i know everything he knows now. and i want you to let us in there."

"Oh yeah, i know everything now. Even how you like to be licked. I can promise I won't bite too hard."

a/n: pls be kind. this was just a random idea. note that most of the lines are just what i vaguely remember/can find on the original script. for the most part, reader's race is up to your interpretation. bolded lines can be interpreted into any language you want

you are a budding artist who made a name for herself after becoming the town's unofficial sign maker/painter. colors were your art, and its not just how you earned your keep, but it's also how you met bo.

you and bo have been married for almost two years now (sorry lisa don't exist here...yet).

so when smoke comes in one day, asking for some supplies, help, and a new sign in need of painting, that's where you come in

you don't know the twins personally, but you trust bo. and the extra money doesn't hurt for your...future family planning

at the juke club, you and bo are a seamless team, alternating between working and partying. every time you walk by, he's always trying to pull you into his arms. Whether it's for a quick kiss or dance, he never passes on the chance

you briefly overhear the commotion at the door, followed by some singing. after getting a quick peek at the white folk, your eyes meet the banjo player's, who then gives you a wink as bo leads you away. neither of you notice remmick's eyes following you as he does

Remmick first motions at Mary. "How'd she get in?" "She here because she's family." Unconvinced, Remmick makes a show of looking at you and Bo next. "And those two?" This time, it's Smoke who answers. "They're family, too."

later on, when bo comes running over to tell you stack's been killed, you immediately want to leave. you get a really bad feeling and your gut tells you that you can't stay here. after some desperate convincing, bo agrees to get the car

"You wait right here, baby. I'll be right back before you know it," he promises, giving your forehead a kiss. Little do you know, that is the last time you will see your husband. At least the human version of him.

cornbread happens. and stack comes back to life. the entire group has to stop you from leaving to go find bo

"Let me go! I need to go after Bo!" "Careful now. You walk out there, Y/N, you might not walk back in." "I can't just sit here and do nothing! My husband is outside with those—those things!" But Smoke puts his foot down, stopping your argument in its tracks. "Bo can handle himself, Y/N. Besides, you know he wouldn't want to put you at risk either. Bo'd want you here. Inside. Where it's safe."

the group finds the 'dead' body. when sammie and smoke go to throw it outside, remmick's singing and the cheering of former friends and guests, lure you to the entrance, just enough to take a peek. (to your relief, you don't see bo anywhere near them)

after the garlic eating scene, you are left on watch duty at the main entrance. everyone else is resting, or preparing more weapons in the back. you hear gurgling form outside, and out of curiosity, you open the door, only to see cornbread tearing into the 'not-dead' body outside.

you nearly scream to warn the others. that is, until bo appears.

your first instinct is to pull him inside into safety. but...the way he swaggers past cornbread, smiling at you like nothing was wrong, made your heart stop (and not in a good way)

"Hey, baby," he grins, and for a moment, you can almost believe it's actually your husband. Keyword being, almost. "Come on outside. I got the car started for you. Let's go!" "Bo...?" The sound of flesh tearing and squelching makes you nauseous, and you take a step back. Bo frowns, but masks it with a charming smile. "What is it, Y/N?" "Cornbread...he's killing him—" "Oh, don't worry about him, baby. He's just a little hungry, is all," he says offhandedly. "Let's go." Bo winks at you, and you flinch. He's never winked like that at you before. The only one who ever has was— "Come on. I got the car all warmed up." But when you don't make a move to follow, he sighs before sauntering up to the door with a knowing look on his face. "Or...you let me back in there, and we can grab our things and head home?" Bo's eyes flash an inhuman silver as he looms over you from the doorframe. "We can even make a pit stop. Maybe even have some of our own fun on the way back."

when Remmick appears, you nearly sob, realizing this isn't your husband anymore

Still, Bo tries to convince you, nonetheless. "It's better this way, baby. So why don't you go and invite us in?" "You should listen to him, Y/N. Or listen to me. Because I know everything he knows now. And trust me, darling, he really wants you to let us in there," Remmick adds. "That's not true. Bo would never..." "Believe me, baby. I just want you to be free. Like him. Like me," Bo says almost reverently. Lovingly. As if the prospect of becoming one of them was a blessing, rather than a curse. "We can be together again. All you have to do is...Let. Us. In." "Listen to your husband now, darling. Can't you see that he—that we—just want what's best for you?" Despite Remmick's words, you can't tear your eyes away from Bo. "You're not...you're not my husband." Despite the cloudy glow in Bo's eyes, there is no hiding the hurt in them. Remmick, however, only looks at you with condescending disappointment. "Well, that's not very nice of you to say," he tsks. "You did this to him. You...you monster," you hiss. "Me? I just gave him what he wanted. Freedom. A family. In fact, this was his idea, you know. He wanted to change you first," Remmick reveals with a hungry grin. "And who am I to deny him?" "You're lying." "Am I? I know everything he knows. Every little thought. Every single memory. I even know how you like to be licked, darling." Remmick's words shake you. But it's Bo's follow-up that makes you choke. "And we promise we won't bite, baby. Not unless you want it."

a/n: and that's all i have for now. let me know if this is worth continuing. otherwise hope u enjoyed the story

#sinners 2025 #remmick #remmick x reader #remmick x you #bo chow #bo chow x reader #imagine #sinners imagine #sinners fanfiction #dark romance #sinners fic #sinners x reader #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #sinners movie

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sydneymykah · 2 days ago

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WHAT’S NEXT FOR THE MUSIC INDUSTRY?

☆ Neptune in Aries and the music industry ☆

☆ I've seen a lot of people make the realization that the Grammy’s were actually enjoyable this year. The public mostly agreeing that the awards given out were justified and long over due for certain artists. (Disregarding pointless stan wars) There was a section during the ceremony where the head of the grammy committee gives a speech about making things right and rewarding artists more for innovation. For example; Beyonce finally getting Album of the Year, an award that has been long overdue according to fans and critics. Along with her best country album win that even shocked her. And the Grammys giving The Weeknd a formal apology for not nominating him after he had one of the most iconic eras of music we’ve since in the past decade. It also seems like music award shows are slowly becoming more enjoyable again.

☆ Festivals like Coachella recently sparked conversation and arguments about what is acceptable as a performer, with all of artists getting flack for being lack luster, low energy and lacking professionalism while performing. Especially when you’re in this economy where you want to get your moneys worth. Other artists being praised for putting in actual effort and people even saying that Megan Thee Stallion should’ve been a headliner.

☆ Apps like TikTok changing how music and artists get recognized adding onto the digital era of music. But ever since the end of quarantine blowing up on TikTok for your music is more sparse, especially with the app constantly being threatened to be banned in America. And your chance of sticking is less and less in such a now crowded space.

☆ The most current thing about music that is making the rounds is the rise in main female pop and rap stars vs the men. It seems like every year a new pop girlie is announced or started to gain momentum and sky rockets to stardom. Whilst for male artists the competition seems to be more sparse.

☆ All of these things occurring during the tail end of Neptune in Pisces. So it sparks the question;

HOW WILL MUSIC CHANGE WITH NEPTUNE IN ARIES?

☆ Neptune is a very mysterious planet. Many of its rulings feeling contradictory to one another. It can rule compassion and kindness but also deception and delusion. One of its rulings is melodies/music.

☆ Neptune entered Pisces August 2011. The state of music in 2011 going onward was this:

The increasing rise of streaming

The widespread of new emerging Artists via the internet (social media)

Rap (specifically mumble and female rap) and Edm/Dance topping the charts and radio

The new mainstream trend of blending genres

The rise of music from other cultures and countries in western media

Pisces Neptune and the ending of things:

☆ Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac and can often show us what is dissipating and coming to an end, not necessarily being destroyed (that would be more pluto energy) but a cycle that is ending at least for now. Pisces is spiritual, referred to the higher realm, and can be considered a healing sign. Therefore Neptune in pisces coming to an end can show what the world of music has learned and healed from. The ripple effect that will lead to the Aries transit. It seems that people are tired of just the chill vibes and wants energy in music and on stage again. In essence for the past few years the music scene has been in a limbo but artists who bring the heat are getting more recognition and respect, for ex: Megan thee Stallion. Or artists who are more blunt and bold with their lyricism and performances. Ex Sabrina Carpenter (esp with her Juno positions) Also whilst I do enjoy artists feeling more comfortable than ever in their art and music (as Neptune is at home in Pisces) it has also made music a bit calm. Many people complaining that we don’t have many powerhouses in the mainstream. It’s hard to think that someone like a Whitney Houston or Aretha Franklin will be a heavy hitter in the mainstream but with the Aries in Neptune transit now here i believe there’s a chance of that. Less whisper singers or people who can’t sing on stage without sounding out of breathe constantly (no shade)

The last time Aries was in Neptune

☆ The last time Neptune was in the sign of Aries the biggest historical event(s) to take place was the Civil War. I feel the need to talk about this because in a lot of my predictions that are below I believe this new wave of music will be filled with revolution topics and artists getting their emancipation back. Artists challenging labels or calling out labels for ex Chappell Roans speech at the Grammies talking about healthcare for artists. Beyonce taking back genres once owned and created by black people that have overtime been taken by white people. Also Movies like Sinners getting so much love from the mainstream, with a messages that center around individualism/identity, your passions, and people who prey on your talents for their own gain (Neptune also rules film) and the Cowboy Carter tour being filled with messages saying “You can’t reclaim something that already belongs to you” I see Artists and people in the music industry will start to fight for their autonomy and freedoms. I see artists that will refuse to conform. They will set their own paths and change how things are operating behind the scenes. In a sense making things right (by their own definition)

MY MUSIC/MUSIC INDUSTRY PREDICTIONS

Resurgence of Artist Development

☆ Complaints on artists with no media training and lack of professionalism from mainstream artists have been a complaint for a while. I think the chill laid back nature of artists is slowly not becoming the cool norm anymore and people want authenticity still yes but they also want to see drive and passion. Being nonchalant is a trend amongst more of the younger generation and the fear of being a try hard will make you look cringe. But I think this transit will glamorize being a hard worker and someone of passion. If labels are smart they’ll start actually devolving artists behind the scenes like they did in the 90s. Beyond labels I think more artists will treat their craft with more discipline.

More powerful independent music labels

☆ Aries is known to be one of the more independent signs. Off that fact alone I’d hope to see more and more artists be independent and/or sign to new independent labels that might have a chance of becoming extremely successful. It’s not exactly a secret that labels have been getting lots of flack for not prioritizing their artists health, finical stability or actually giving the artists the dreams they’re selling. It’s becoming more and more of a better option to be an independent artist than it is to sign to a label since they’re essentially glorified banks that give out huge loans. Aries being innovate, first of the zodiac and independent may give independent labels and artists the chance to thrive.

Shortcuts in music

☆ Aries is a temperamental and emotional sign. Quick to get riled up in passionate emotions and easily one of the most impatient of the signs. This leads me to believe that music will have a lot of shortcuts and quick fixes or “cheatcodes” if you will which sadly reminds me of AI and AI music. If there’s an artist who comes out who strictly issues AI and becomes popular I will not be surprised. I can also see this as labels growing more impatient with signing new artists who have potential to go viral but don’t after a certain amount of time and more artists getting dropped for those reasons

Extreme competitiveness behind the scenes

☆ Ares is the god of war and very militant. I see a lot of strategic fighting and dirty plays being made even more so in the industry. I think the more and more new artists are able to blow up and sign to management/have distribution deals the more competitive the field will become. It’s already a competitive industry but I think it’s going to enter a whole new phase of it. For ex; I think labels are gonan start cracking down on finding and developing the new “black pop girl”. And black girls in pop/rnb who are already established, their teams will most likely try to jump on that opportunity or put them on the back burner for someone else (harsh but the truth in this field). I also see artists and their teams being more strict.

New leaders, holy trinities and standards

☆ Aries is the first sign in the zodiac and is known to be trailblazing and set standards. Neptune in Aries will bring a new era of music along with new leaders of music, and new holy trinities. Similar to Mariah, Whitney, and Celine being the holy trinity when Neptune was in Sagittarius/Aquarius and Rihanna, Nicki, and Beyonce being our gens big three when Neptune was in Pisces this new era will give us a new standard to look up to.

More innovative/trailblazing performances

☆ I see new ways of performing making the mainstream. We’ve gotten used to the norm of award show performances, the Super Bowl and the typical day time/late night television performance. I can see music teams, labels and artists getting more creative with places to perform and do performances never done before. For ex. The Beyonce Bowl. Although it was still a NFL performance not only was it live streamed to Netflix but was a Christmas Day special performance with such a high production it was a performance an artist hadn’t done for the NFL Christmas show before. Performances like that might inspire people in the industry to come up with performances that haven’t been done before and become new norms.

Rock/Grunge Comeback

☆ When it comes to specific genres I do believe rock, rock influenced music and grunge will become mainstream again. Especially with black artists as it’s speculated artists like Beyonce will be releasing a Rock inspired album for her 3rd act album. I think it’s pretty self explanatory why Aries in Neptune can bring back the rock wave. Rock can be extremely powerful, expressive, emotional (not just including rage and anger), a lot of people consider rock to only be an aggressive genre so it coming back during this transit would aline very well with what a lot of people have been feeling. Music can reflect the world we live in and it’s safe to say A LOT of people are angry. Rock has always been a revolution filled genre with subjects that often criticize and rebel against the status quo and polices/systems against the oppressed

The New Male Pop Star

☆ Aries is masculine and even though it doesn’t necessarily mean men I do think we’re long overdue for a new male pop star or just star in general. A Justin Bieber, A Harry Styles, an Usher or maybe even someone who will live up to a legacy like Micheal Jackson. We’ll have to wait and see 🤫

What’s your prediction for what will happen to music and the music industry with the Aries Neptune transit?

Xoxo

- Sydney Mykah ✫彡

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pazzispizookies · 2 days ago

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I agree with watching Paige less, she’s amazing truly as a rookie, but the W has so much talent it would be dumb just to watch Dallas for her.

Like she was the star (or one of them) at UConn, and now she’s in a league surrounded by other stars just like hers. What W team do u support?

This!!!

Like y’all, Paige is wonderful, but so many things are pissing me off rn🥲

1. She’s an adult women, she’s not a baby who’s being abused because her teammates didn’t rush to pick her up once she fell. She’s a professional athlete who’s fully capable of standing up on her own lol, it doesn’t mean her teammates hate her.

2. She’s not the best in the league. She’s a rookie!!! Of course she’s gonna get better with time, but expecting the wings to win each game just because they have Paige isn’t realistic at all. Each one of those teams has their own talent equal or greater then hers, they’re all professional players. The best of the best.

3. UConn was not normal last year😭… meaning that most teams don’t get that close. They are teammates. Not all best friends like the UConn team was, that was a special and rare thing. The wings are grown women all in different stages of life, does that mean they can’t be close friends? No, of course not. But does that mean we can expect them to have that same “Power of friendship” UConn had last year. Hell no.

4. We do not know Paige, she’s not your wife or baby or girlfriend. She’s a basketball player. Stepping over personal boundaries is never okay, no one should be stalking her siblings to get an inside look at her life, no one should overly follow her to a point where it’s creepy. I know I’m saying this and I’ve written fics before, but honestly, those fics are completely fictional, like basically characters based off her story, not genuinely about her person.

(I kinda lost the plot and started rambling but I felt like it was needed lol, also, I’m a NY liberty Fan. Always!!)

#Paige Bueckers #dallas wings #pazzi #paige bueckers uconn #uconn women’s basketball #dallas wnba #wnba basketball #wnba

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 23 hours ago

Text

Judex, Judicum, Infantem - Chapter 5

(Eventual)Reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist | my masterlist

summary: The beginnings of living with Matt feel too good to be true. Could you be falling in love with him? But Matt's flaws of course can't stay hidden forever. With a few special guest appearances.

warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio or I will block you!) AFAB Reader. No use of Y/N. Pregnant sex! Brief mention of vomiting.

Notes: I hit 2,000 followers last week and didn't even notice so I didn't prepare any kind of celebration. So instead, I'm going to post three!!! chapters this week to celebrate! This one today, one on Thursday, and one on Saturday or Sunday.

w/c: 3,806

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on Tumblr to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platforms I currently post on are Tumblr and AO3. Thanks!*

You weren’t sure what was more spectacular, the way the sunlight filtered in like cascading brush strokes of orange and pink, or the crystal clear view of the Hudson and New Jersey beyond. If you had known dating a successful lawyer came with the perk of moving into such a luxurious apartment, you’d have agreed to go out with Matt much sooner. The nearly floor to ceiling windows were the primary thing you noticed the first time he brought you over here. You weren’t sure if you’d ever tire of standing in front of them and admiring the view that covered most of the living space of Matt’s— now your— apartment.

“Where is this going?” the woman with dark hair asked as she easily hoisted your antique dresser above her head

“Bedroom.” you replied, watching with confusion as she shrugged and headed further into the apartment

A blind guy and a pregnant lady were not two people who should be moving much, so you knew you needed help getting all your things uptown to your new dwelling. But when Matt said he had a few friends who could help you move, you weren’t exactly expecting more vigilantes.

“Jessica, can you please be a little more careful with my girlfriend’s things?” Matt called down the hall, as he stepped up beside you, giving your back a reassuring rub

“As nice as it is to meet some of your friends, why didn’t we hire movers?” you asked, looking around at the chaos that was spread around the living room as you combined your things.

Since Matt could afford a place like this, you were shocked he wouldn’t want to invest in the expense of professionals.

“Really Matt, Heroes for Hire does not exactly fall into the category of movers for hire.” the man named Luke jested as he effortlessly set down a box you knew was heavily packed with your book collection.

Wow, these two were strong.

“I wanted people we could trust.” Matt replied

“Well thank goodness she comes with a first aid kit,” Claire commented, noting the plastic case sitting at the top of the box she was carrying

As she pulled it out and triumphantly waived it in the air, you noticed Matt’s frame went rigid beside you. He hadn’t yet told you why he’d been light in the vigilante scene these days. Maybe Claire joking about you being the one to stitch him up brought up the reason in his mind, or maybe he just hadn’t thought through what life would look like as a vigilante with a family; if he ever did go back to it.

You certainly had thought about it though. Would Matt return to being Daredevil regularly? What would happen if his identity got revealed? To you? Your relationship? Your child? Or worse, what if he got hurt or even killed?

“Oh, were you a Marine?” Claire asked, interrupting your panic spiral

“No.” you replied, confused “Why?”

She rummaged past the first aid kit and pulled the first thing under it from the box; Frank’s sweatshirt. You were packing your apartment up so haphazardly, you’d almost forgotten it was in there. Since discovering Frank was gone, you tucked the item into a dark corner in the back of your closet, hoping to forget him but also not really willing to part with the only item of his you had. When Matt asked you to move in, you were so excited and overwhelmed and admittedly a little scatterbrained from being pregnant, you just grabbed piles of things and shoved them into whatever containers you could find.

Shit, that must be what Matt was actually upset about. You could see him out of the corner of your eye turn away from you and make his way into the kitchen, reaching for a glass and a bottle of whiskey.

“No.” you answered sheepishly “Something from an old friend I totally forgot I had.”

Claire shrugged and put the sweatshirt back, carrying the box into the bedroom.

Matt eased up shortly after his friends departed for the evening, mostly seeming back to his usual self as the two of you snuggled on the sofa and unwound for the night. The apartment was still scattered in boxes and various items of yours, but you both were too tired to actually start unpacking.

“Hang on” you said, feeling the bile already rising in your throat and rushing towards the bathroom

Great, now that you lived with Matt, he was going to hear and smell every reaction your body had to the pregnancy. It seemed your symptoms really ramped up as you approached your 12 week appointment tomorrow. Plus you were starting to have food cravings, calling him when he was out searching for Frank and instead had him swinging from rooftops in search of takeout.

Matt seemed totally unfazed as you returned to the couch, opening his arms up and inviting you back to your place.

“This is getting miserable.”

“Awe I know sweetheart, but the doctor said things should ease up after the first trimester and you’re so close.”

“Yeah until this baby starts getting so heavy that my back hurts constantly and I need to pee every five seconds.”

“You already need to —”

Thwap. You gave his arm a playful whack which caused the corner of Matt’s full lips to quirk up into a beautiful smile as he chuckled. Feigning injury, he pulled his arm away briefly before leaning back in to give you a kiss.

“Sorry baby, couldn’t help it.”

The way his lips pressed against yours sent a buzzing through your skull that radiated down your neck, down your sternum, all the way to in between your legs.

That was another symptom that had appeared in the last few days; you felt insatiably horny. And right now, Matt looked like the most delicious meal you could devour.

You leaned forward, pleading for more which he happily obliged. His lips were as soft as they looked and tingled against yours with the taste of spearmint mixed with the whiskey he’d downed earlier.

Matt had not touched you beyond a few sweet kisses and cuddles since you delivered the news of your pregnancy to him. The way his hands comforted and caressed you in the days since made you feel like he thought you were made of glass; a soft delicate statue like the saints he worshiped, the child of his that you carried the miracle that devined you.

You scratched at his scalp as you kissed, feeling him preening into your touch. Pulling away just enough to speak, you made sure your breath was still hot against his.

“You know I was reading up on unconventional remedies the other day. For my symptoms.”

“Mmm?” Matt’s brows shot up quizzically, a gentle hand lightly tracing a pattern into your waist as he held you.

“One pregnancy forum said sucking dick can help with morning sickness.”

The flush that rose to Matt’s cheeks nearly matched the color of his Daredevil suit and he cleared his throat as his eyes darted back and forth rapidly.

“You —um— You’re joking?”

His voice cracked like a pubescent choir boy. Oh how you loved to make this cocky flirt of a man crumble with just a few words. Lightly, you let your hand creep up his thigh, a centimeter at a time.

“Nope.”

“I don’t think in good conscience I can ask you to do that.” he stuttered

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

Apprehensiveness still lingered on his face.

“Matty please, I’m desperate. Both to not be nauseous and for you.”

“Sweetheart. We’ve both had a long and exhausting day.”

You knew he could read the pout on your face as you pulled back by the way his hands reached forward to keep you close.

“How about this?” he reasoned “Let’s take a nice warm shower. Together? Yeah? Get you a little relaxed. Then if you’re feeling up to it afterwards, I’ll consider it.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m a lawyer sweetheart. And one of us is going to have to be the serious parent.” he joked

Matt’s shower was a gift sent directly from the heavens, especially against your sore back and shoulders. A full walk in with a bench on either end, a rainfall shower-head above, plus eight jets running down the wall; all adjustable in both spray pattern and temperature. You could get used to this.

You could also get used to the way Matt was pressing his lips against your skin, sending a wave of goosebumps across your flesh despite how warm the steam was surrounding you. Relaxing under his touch, you hadn’t realized how sore you were until you finally let your shoulders drop as Matt ran delicate fingers up and down your flesh. His motions were slow, easy in the way he gently moved you around, spinning you to wet your body and then again so he could reach better. You closed your eyes and hummed at how cared for you felt in the moment.

He gently massaged your scalp to lather in your favorite in shampoo, pampering you while keeping his body closer to you than your own shadow. You could feel his hardness pressing into your behind as he took care of you, teasing you unintentionally. He was working you so well, relaxing you into a state of pliability that was doing nothing to calm your neediness.

You hummed once more, this time more of a whine at how desperately you wanted him.

“That bad, huh?” Matt joked

“It feels like my pregnancy hormones want me to somehow get pregnant again even though that’s impossible. Like I’ll explode if I don’t. That’s how badly I want you.”

You turned to face him, watching him calculating your body’s tells behind his glassy eyes. Pushing a strand of his dark, wet hair away from his face, you couldn’t help but smile at the way he nuzzled into your touch. Just maybe some of your desperation was wearing off on him.

“I’m not made of porcelain, Matty. The doctor said sex was perfectly okay and wouldn’t hurt me or the baby. Please?”

Gently, you drew him closer by the flesh of his hip so that his hardness pressed against your pelvis. He instantly melted against your lips, bringing a hand up to place behind your head and keep you close. Not like the tender kisses he’d been placating you with earlier, the way he kissed you back was growing with hunger.

You yelped into his mouth as your back hit the cold tiles of the shower. There was still a fragility to the way he touched and kissed you, traveling down your body with reverence. He kept his movements gentle as he guided your leg up on the bench and even more softly as he nipped as the flesh inside your thighs as he sunk to his knees.

“Wait, I thought I was supposed to be the one on my knees for you—- oh!”

Answering your protestations with only the motion of his lips to your sensitive bud, kissing it while rubbing his stubble back and forth against your thighs.

“Nope sweetie. Gotta take care of you now.”

He pulled away just enough to speak, then dove right back in. He sucked at your core as if he was devouring an ice cream bar in the summer sun, gentle enough to not loose a single topping but also quickly enough to not let it melt.

Labored breaths left your lips in whispers of his name. It seemed to ignite an invigorated fire within Matt, now grasping at your thighs to steady you as he increased the fervor of his tongue. Every circle of it against you drew you closer and closer to the edge. All it took for you to finally snap was the brief pause he took to look up at you, a combination of lust and adoration swimming behind his glossy eyes.

Relief washed over you as your cunt spasmed and contracted, like the first wave of the ocean hitting your flesh after soaking in the sun all day. It was warm and white and you tried your hardest to remain upright on shaky legs and slick tile. Grunting at the taste of your release, Matt didn’t stop until you were all the way through your orgasm.

“Well it didn’t fix the morning sickness like sucking you off might, but I won’t complain.” you commented, earning a hearty chuckle from Matt

You felt a little dizzy as you tilted your head back against the cool wall behind you, too blissed out to even notice as Matt stood and lined his hardness up with your slit.

All you could do was reach forward and hang onto his shoulders as he pushed inside you, inch by inch until he was comfortably seated. One of his large hands held under your thigh, supporting it as it rested on the bench. The other was pressed behind you on the wall, caging you in. You could taste yourself in his kisses, tangy and sweet. He thrusted gently, gauging how much you could take as you clung to him.

You nodded into the crook of his neck, urging him on.

“Is this okay? Are you feeling good?” he asked

“Mhm” was about the most coherent answer you could give

You could feel the warm, toned muscle of Matt’s chest against your breasts as only atoms separated you at this point. As he began to find a rhythm, your nipples rubbed against his taught muscles, extra pert from no longer being warmed by the spray of the shower and already oversensitive from your changing hormones. Your thighs burned as you efforted to keep yourself upright and if you weren’t in so much pleasure you would collapse into the puddle of warm water at your feet. Already still worked up from your last orgasm, you could feel another approaching quickly as his cock dragged deliciously along your walls

“Please…please…” you groaned into his ear, nuzzling at him to just be as close as you could

“I know sweetheart, I know. Let go for me, yeah?”

This orgasm was stronger than the last, blossoming from your core through the rest of your body. Your walls spasmed strongly around him and you could feel his muscles flex under you as he worked to hold you steady. All you could do was ride it out and cling to him like a koala as you came down.

He must have been close too, because Matt’s pace began to falter as he pitched himself up into you. Reveling in the dissipating fizz of you own after shocks, you somehow managed to bring a shaky hand up from his back and run it through his hair, giving it a soft tug.

“So close baby. So close.” he promised, kissing at your neck

It only took a little longer of you nuzzling against him and running a hand up and down his warm skin before he was grunting and shaking against you, releasing inside you in with a groan.

The mix of both your releases ran down your leg and combined with the rainfall droplets from the shower head above, now a lukewarm temperature, running into the drain.

“Careful, it’ll be slippery” Matt said as he gingerly removed himself from you and helped guide your leg off the bench.

Once you were out of the shower and all dried, you laid in bed snuggled in Matt’s embrace with your back flush against his chest. Wrapped comfortably in an old Columbia sweatshirt of Matt’s that he offered to you as you got ready for bed. You suspected the soft navy garment was a subtle territory mark over the one of Frank’s that still sat in the unpacked box.

He kissed at your forehead and ran a hand protectively over your stomach. You weren’t yet showing. Anyone passing by on the street wouldn’t think so at least. But you definitely looked like you had one too many burritos if you wore the right clothing. Getting dressed in the mornings had you favoring more stretchy pants and loose fitting dresses these days and you knew you’d need to get some maternity items sooner rather than later.

“I should get going soon. Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?” Matt asked

You turned to face him, gently taking his chin in your palm.

“Matt, no. Please don’t go at all.” you plead “I really appreciate you doing the decent thing and trying to find Frank, but there’s no point. We’re building a life here together. I’m happy. You’ve already been so committed to this family and so am I. We don’t need Frank. I don’t need Frank. I just need you.”

Matt took the hand you’d been stroking his face with and moved it down to the left side of his chest, letting it rest over his heart.

The way he smiled at you, sincere and genuine made your heart want to burst.

“Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” he agreed

You rewarded him with a sweet kiss, happy with the way he grinned into it.

“Maybe some day, when this is more behind us, you can tell me exactly what went down between the two of you. I know it’s complicated.”

Matt nodded in agreement.

“But not tonight. You need rest baby, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You hummed, twisting to resume your position laying back against his chest.

As you drifted off to the sound of his steady heartbeat in your ears, you clung tightly to him, finally content at having such a soft place to land. A soft place with Matt.

And then a thought danced across your brain, as gentle as a feather in the wind.

I love you.

Goddammit.

You would have loved to stay in bed just a little longer, angrily burrowing further under the cover at the realization that it was already morning. But the way you could hear Matt rushing around getting ready, you knew you needed to get up.

When you opened your eyes, however, you weren’t expecting to see him already fully dressed, finishing the last loop on his tie.

“Matt?”

He rushed to your side and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. He appeared panicked, eyes darting everywhere as he adjusted the knot on his tie.

“Sweetie, I am so sorry but the judge just called an emergency session for the Madison trial next week. I’m going to go to the courthouse and see what I can do to get out as quick as I can.

Your heart sank. Your 12 week appointment was today.

“Matt, it’s—”

“Don’t you dare say it’s fine sweetheart, cause I know it’s not.”

Flopping back down onto your pillow you let out a sigh, unsure of what to say. The disappointment was twisting knots into your stomach and you could feel the tears beginning to pool in your waterline.

“You’re right it’s not, but I guess I really don’t have a choice.”

“I will explain to the judge and see if he’ll let me go early. I’ll try to meet you there.”

You nodded, utterly dejected at the thought of Matt missing this crucial appointment. What if everything wasn’t okay? Matt wiped at the tear that had escaped and was running down your cheek at the thought of receiving bad news today and Matt not being by your side for it. You should have seen this coming. It was all too good to be true. Matt was letting you down, just like Frank had. Just like all the rest. Your heart broke for yourself sure, but also for your baby. Was this what their life was going to be? A dad who couldn’t show up when it really mattered?

“I guess you gotta make money so we can feed this baby.” you joked with another sigh, causing Matt to grimace at the deflection

He gave you one more quick kiss, heart breaking at the despondence he could feel radiating from you, then he was out the door.

He texted you as much as he could throughout the day to keep you posted, but with 5 minutes to go until the doctor called you back, and Matt being 20 blocks downtown, you knew it wasn’t likely he’d make it in time. You shuffled your feet anxiously against the floor of the waiting room, hoping by some miracle he’d pop through the door.

Of course it wasn’t until you were leaving the doctor’s, appointment complete and paperwork filled with news in hand, that you finally got the text from him.

‘Leaving now. In a cab.’

Fucking of course.

You texted him back.

‘Just finished. Meet at your office instead?’

You’d figure out a way to make him pay you back later for missing out on this, but right now all you wanted to do was get to him and tell him everything.

When the taxi dropped you off, you looked up, Matt’s figure clear in the window of his 5th floor office pacing back and forth.

If you weren’t pregnant and exhausted, you’d have taken the stairs just to punish him with waiting to see you a little longer. Instead you opted for the elevator, rocking on the balls of your feet in anticipation as it seemed to take forever to get up to his floor.

With a ding, the elevator door opened and you stepped forward to see Matt still pacing at the end of the hall. He abruptly stopped and turned as he listened to you make your way to him. You knew your heart had to be beating out of your chest and you could feel a little bit of sweat running down your back.

Clutching the little black and white printout close to your chest, you stood before him, staring into your own reflection in his cherry tinted glasses.

“How’d it go?”

“How was court?” you replied, tinge of hurt dripping in your words

“Not funny sweetheart. We’ll catch up later. The baby?”

“She’s healthy. Right on track still.”

“She?” he asked, smile slowly spreading across his face

Had you been more prepared for Matt missing the appointment, you would have done something cute to tell him like printed a braille sign or something.

“Mhm” you confirmed, holding out the ultrasound

He took it, running his hands over the smooth glossy paper, not able to read what it said but knowing the information on it was life changing.

“We’re having a girl!” he exclaimed

He place the print out on the desk behind him and took your face in his hands. Gingerly, he began to plant soft kisses on each of your cheeks, then your eye lids, then your nose, your brow, your temples, then your lips. You could feel the dampness of tears running down from his shaded eyes as he moved his lips across your face.

“We’re having a little girl.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag List: @xxdrixx @a-leg-without-fear @echo-ethe @capswife @xoxabs88xox @allmyn1ghts @laaadygisbooornex3 @ninacotte @uncertified-doc @moth-murdock @danzer8705 @endofthelinegang @buckyssugarchick @hellskitchenswhore @pixviee @themikkapika @bisexualbith @labellapeaky @theoraekenslover @sexyvixen7 @tanyaherondale @marysucks-blog @0callme-mimi @aesthetic0cherryblossom @livewaspsblog @lokifae42 @plutosbearr

#frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #frank castle #daredevil #daredevil born again #fratt #matt x reader #frank x reader #matt x frank x reader #nmcu #mcu #mcu fic #daredevil smut #matt murdock angst #frank castle imagine #charlie cox

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strawberryraviegutz · 2 days ago

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Part of me starting to have second thoughts about sinners. Not the movie itself but more or so the fandom…

From ppl completely disregarding and ignoring the movie’s themes about racism, to ppl watering down Remmick through a black and white lens either comparing him to the Klan(even tho the Klan hated Irish ppl back then)or saying that he did nothing wrong and uplifting him more than the black cast(apparently it was confirmed by someone who worked on the movie that Remmick isn’t racist. I forgot his name tho), along with ppl going after others for…finding a VAMPIRE VILLAIN hot??(and or anyone talking about Remmick in a positive light in general.)

I literally just saw the film yesterday and I’m already being put off by the way a lot of yall are acting.

While what Remmick did was certainly by no means any better than what the very oppressors he hates are doing(cuz at the same time he did sorta use his whiteness to his advantage when tricking those 2 klan members into letting him in), I think it’s just disingenuous to ignore what exactly LED HIM to that mindset which was the Catholics colonizing his home along with forcing Ireland’s ppl into famine.

Like I just dont get it…For as long as vampires and villains have been super popular and beloved in media for decades and even centuries , how are yall gonna act super surprised when ppl find a hot villain vampire character attractive/appealing??

Plus I thought it was common sense then ppl can like villains but not agree with their actions. No one here thinks that Remmick was in the right by forcing other black ppl against their will into assimilation into vampires(at least I hope not).

And again assuming it’s only white ppl who find him hot(which isn’t even inherently a bad thing. It depends on the context) and writing smut of him while completely ignoring/erasing all the black women/afabs and or black ppl in general who are thirsting for Remmick in the tags along with telling ppl to die over shipping Remmick with ppl…and also thinking that there’s only Remmick x reader fics when…no?? There’s A LOT of other x reader fics with the twins(smoke especially), Bo Chow, Annie, the twins, Sammie, and Mary within the tags.(also can we NOT call Remmick’s actor ugly please? That’s just flat out mean.). Speaking of which the way yall are treating Mary and Annie is just deplorable..

I literally had someone comment on my last post related to the shipping of Remmick and Sammie and I couldn’t even respond to them cuz they blocked me??(idk how to feel about the ship but I’m not gonna get onto other ppl for liking it since they’re both adults from what I can tell and as long as they aren’t erasing or ignoring the themes/message of the movie)

How are u gonna comment on my post and then block me when I was just trying to further explain my opinion that you had no intention of listening to in the first place??

According to these ppl I guess I must hate my own race now for thinking that Remmick is hot/sar

Way to make ur own ppl feel isolated from their own community as if that doesn’t also go against the message of Sinners at all../sar

#vent #rant #ain’t exactly the first time I’ve had other black ppl make me feel I don’t belong in MY COMMUNITY #I’m tired #I hate it here #sinners #racial imposter syndrome(??)#sinners 2025 #horror fan #horror girl #sinners remmick #remmick #remmick x reader #sammie #sammie sinners #horror movies #sinners x reader

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nabi-unveiled · 1 day ago

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For Love of Plushies

If last week in BL land was the week of tears (mine), then this week was all about the plushies.

We had a plush keychain that is supposedly a cat in Business as Usual to serve Min Jun a reminder of how bad they are at communicating and the rest of us a reminder of just how down bad Jin Hwan really was (and is).

And the adults were not the only ones using plushies to communicate their feelings. Kim in Boys in Love used an adorable giraffe plush while confessing to Mon.

Meanwhile, a pink bear highlighted the underlying problems between our couple in Fight for You. Because Xiao Bai used the skills he's kept secret from Da Hei to earn the pink bear.

But then the bear was used to shield them from the rest of the world while they kissed. Just like Xiao Bai is trying to protect Da Hei while conducting this undercover mission. This one might hurt once the secrets are exposed. Because as the pink indicates, the love is real.

And with all of these plushies in a single week, my mind went into overdrive remembering plushies of the past.

It remembered the bad ones, such as the bloody bear in Sangmin Dinnaew. It was fine for the abuse/revenge arc.

But should not have been used as a tool for reunification during the opening of my man Dinnaew's art exhibition.

Especially since Dinnaew couldn't remember it.

Sorry Dinnaew, you were not remembered for being an amazing person or for any of the adult times you shared. He finally remembered you in the last five minutes of the show because of a teddy bear you gave him when you were a baby.

My loathing of that bloody teddy bear is high. I never knew I could have such strong negative feelings about a plushie prior to that show.

So my brain wandered into happier places where plushies were used for better purposes such as Your Sky.

Where Teerak proves that you can love plushies and still be a sexy beast. Liking cute things and liking sex are not mutually exclusive.

His friend Joy agrees. Yes, I see that big bear in the corner. I'm hoping it has a more creative name than the one in my house which we affectionately call..."big bear".

But my favorite plushies are always going to be the ones used as a symbol and/or narrative tool.

Such as our duck in Fourever You.

That proves just how long Johan has really been by North's side.

Or our penguin in Mr. Unlucky has No Choice but to Kiss.

Which served as a visual symbol of both their differences

And care for each other throughout the rest of the series.

In the end, my brain came back to the plushies I really just want to steal for myself. Because as Akin knows in Top Form, we all need a plushie friend to talk to on the hard days.

And we should never limit ourselves to one.

Especially when they can be used in fun ways.

It wasn't a list I previously knew I needed in my life, but plushies are now the newest addition to the weird lists I keep. It feels like banking sunshine for a rainy day.

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ilovereadingandstuff · 1 day ago

Note

Never said that last thing you said.

I DO support the idea that bnha was not written correctly. I do see it flaws, of how Hori messed up in the story-telling throughout nearing the final arc.

I did focused on Izuku 'cuz 1. that was the thing that was disputed above before my intervention 2. Katsuki's character depends on him.

Here I say that I DO recognized that Katsuki ended up in a weird way 'cuz his character was reduced to his conection with Izuku. He is not an independent character in relation to the MC of the story, as his whole ordeal was rotated and centered towards Izuku and how their relationship affected him. Yes! he 100% had potential, he's an incredible complex character with an interesting background and innovating setting in the way he was gonna grow to be an adult and incredible hero, and I do believe we could see quite a lot of it, but yeah, he was ruined in that way on his relationship with Izuku, 'cuz, as much Izuku is such and important part for his growth, he ended up being the only cause of it.

I did read all what you wrote, so don't bother on it.

Also, doesn't it the whole 'i chase after you and now you chase after me' thingy was a way to express that Katsuki needed to mature in the way he view other people?? He has always been incredible in terms of heroism and power, but his quest thorught the manga was exactly the opposite: to learn to relay on people, to be kind, to be a good person and accept help, have compannion as he needed to learn to 'save' not only 'win'.

Everyone deserved recognition, 'cuz literally the whole students of UA were even more helpfull in the war than the adults. But Izuku carried the burden of way too many, as he also dealt with the most dangerous ones, that's why he also deserves that recognition.

Don't all class A and more achieved their dreams of being a hero? Ochako with his project, Katsuki started being in 4 place, Shoto 2nd, many of the characters with their own agencies, in romantic relationships, time to spare AND their solo/interns careers as heroes? that's why Izuku also deserved it, 'cuz he served just as the others did but without a quirk he couldn't become a hero on his own (with that, again, I am not that much of a supporter of this idea, but it is what we were given).

Your point is "Making Bakugo number 1 in the rankings was the least and the easiest thing Hori could do. And it could at least be a little bit satisfying for us who actually care about his character as an individual character."

and here i can say that Katsuki IS achieving in his own head and mind that number 1 spot: as he is rising from 15 to 4, the ranking system is a joke and competing with Izuku is a motivation for him to keep on aiming higher.

Katsuki was a manhandled character during the finalization of mha, and just as the whole manga, it ended poorly written, but with the best Hori could offer this final chapters, I think it's just enough what we were given.

We don't know the reasons of why the writting decrease quality so much, could it be Hori being sick, the inside pressure of the editorial, own personal reasons, his lack on interest, and so on, but with what we were given, Katsuki stands quite good of what he could have ended up.

At least we are not with him looking depressed and in the 15th spot, as chapter 431 left us with.

And for your information, I am both an Izuku and a Katsuki fan. And even thought I love bnha and will always be a fan, I do see through the errors that Hori have made and the way the story is not perfect, and totally treated many characters and story arcs quite bad towards the ending.

At this point, I'm almost agreeing with your point, 'cuz bnha pretty much can be said to have ended up in garbage, but Katsuki getting 1 place kinda loses the whole point of his character development: that he didn't need that external recognition, as he needed to value more his own (needed to see more highly to himself in terms of his previous insecurities [externalized in arrogance and angryness]) and his interaction with others.

I legitimately don't know who else to talk to so... I'm so tired of being a Bakugo fan who doesn't like Deku. It's like Horikoshi himself doesn't gaf about Bakugo and only wants Bakugo as a tool for hos precious little MC. Bakugo is so dehumanized in the series that no one cares about him outside of connecting him to Deku. He is not even allowed to be higher than Deku in a ranking where Deku is technically quirkless! Ngl, I feel like I want all the money I spent on MHA back but I don't know who to rant to or talk to. This ain't fair result for Bakugo at all

I understand you don't know who to talk to about this, but I'm honestly flabbergasted you came to me, one of the most openly critical people of the inclusion of those rankings in the first place. They mean nothing. They're honestly a joke. I can't imagine taking the fact that Katsuki is one rank below Izuku as anything serious and offensive because it's so meaningless. The *only* meaning you can ascribe to this situation is that Katsuki's heart truly wasn't in the competition at all until Izuku got back in the game. Now he's getting to do the exact thing he wanted to do so badly he cried openly about it to Izuku in the hospital--he's getting to chase after Izuku again. I can only assume that these rankings would just fluctuate all the time after this point. One of them will always be chasing the other, no matter who is "out in the lead."

And please be wary of using terms like "dehumanized" in reference to fictional characters. These aren't people. They literally are intangible objects. Katsuki literally is a literary tool to be used in a narrative. You're treating this mini-chapter as though it's depicting a static situation that will never change for the rest of their lives. But it's your job as a reader to infer the dynamism into the little details. Plenty of other characters care about Katsuki, and we've been shown that throughout the series. Plenty of fans care about Katsuki, and they have demonstrated that in their fan creations. Horikoshi himself even said in this fanbook that his favorite part of the story to write was the story between Izuku and Katsuki. It's not shocking in that case that he'd focus more of his attention on fleshing out the relationship between them than between Katsuki and anyone else. Nothing about that implies to me that Horikoshi doesn't care about Katsuki.

So if you want to vent to someone about your frustrations, maybe write a blog post or find someone who is upset about the same things as you. But if you want someone to counter your feelings and give you a reason to change your mind, this is about all I'm willing to provide. Good luck out there.

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ahappydnp · 3 days ago

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Hey so I hope this is okay to ask as i’m a bit confused and crazy atm. In the WIQYT screenshots going around again about the doc, the last one talks about Dan having self image issues. I was curious if you could possibly help spread some light on the subject maybe? I remember always seeing him posted on the proana blogs back in the day frequently, and even in Dan and Depression he says his lexapro made him “gain loads of weight” but it never seemed like anything visually changed. I know you’re not a mind reader and trying to understand another persons self image is impossible, I guess I just maybe don’t understand where this comes from. I know he used to rag on himself in videos by putting pillows down his shirt to signify that he was chubby as a kid even tho he never was from the pictures available. I’m aware this is very parasocial but I’ve been going through a lot self image wise and he never got to make his documentary where he talks about it and idk. To me, Daniel is lowkey a philosopher and i’m so desperate to hear what he has to say on the subject. Can you think of any times he’s talked about this kind of stuff? (Sorry for this being such a downer anon i just kinda feel like i need to hear about it rn and i don’t know where to look)

I hope your weekend is amazing and filled with joy and laughter!

like you said, no one knows what goes on inside someones mind especially things like insecurities. but i do think it's two seperate issues that dan has talked about (under the cut for sensitive topics)

i think it's important to remember how society treated weight in the early 00s, obviously it was muuuuch worse for women but boys would also get ridiculed for their weight regardless of their size. i assume that dan did get picked on for being bigger (more than likely he was probably just taller than his classmates but kids just really like generalizing words like "fat" and that sticks in your brain). it was such a shitty time for body acceptance as a whole and he was bullied so much i'm sure people did throw in weight comments just to add to the blow.

and like everything else that's going to stick and then when you're a little older you just repeat this truth that other people told you that "i was a fat kid and fat=bad just like gay=bad so i'm going to agree with them" of course that was suuuuuuper toxic and unhealthy and dan definitely did even more damage peddling casual fatphobia and making insensitive jokes online. but he was pretty openly struggling with his body image from the get go (all the ED comments he made in 2009) and as we know, there's generally another root cause. dan's talked about his self hatred when he was younger (particularly stemming from the bullying and his internalized homophobia) at length and it makes sense that manifested into body dysmorphia the second part is in that screenshot from WIQY he was specifically talking about gay men's beauty standards which is a whole different issue altogether. he's talked a lot about his baby face and how he's felt insecure about his lack of "masculine" features and build. he's talked about how people don't take him seriously because he doesn't look like "a man". there's also the added layer of him being the poster child for ~pretty boy twink~ who's now getting older and aging out of those very rigid beauty standards solely because he's no longer 21. but gay men can be incredibly toxic when it comes to labels and what's attractive (i mean think about the fact that grindr literally has a body type filter so you can exclude whole subsets of people). so he's not saying that he's not attractive or not the general beauty standard, it's that he came out and fell face first into gay standards discourse because he was actively engaging and consuming queer community in a new light

allll of this to say i COMPLETELY get how it can instinctively rub people the wrong way when dan howell, who was famously coined "the hot one" for years and has had people drooling over him his entire adult life, says he's insecure. it can feel like a slap in the face if you don't consider his own struggles but i do think he's self aware and healed enough to know that he's very much within societal beauty standards (tall, straight sized, white, eurocentric features) and has actually benefited greatly in his career because of his looks. and he's unpacked a lot of his fatphobia and has made a point to be vocally body positive even going back to like 2016/2017

#anon ask #cw body image #cw weight #it's a reminder that two things can be true at the same time. someone can experience privilege for something theyre also struggling with #idk it's a subject very close to me personally #subscribing to dan circa 2011/2012 while i was actively in ED treatment meant having to sit out on some of his content #but also knowing he wasnt trying to be malicious and was peddling rhetoric he'd heard himself #dan and phil #phan

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 hours ago

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Can I request Herta with an S/O who's a massive tsundere?

(H:SR) Herta with a tsundere S/O

Oh, what's that? S/O was being stubborn and getting too embarrassed to say what's on their mind?

Funny/Cute as it was, Herta doesn't have time for this.

Do you think such a beautiful, smart, and young genius like her has time to wait for S/O to stop twiddling their thumbs to say they wanna hold hands?!

Hell no! That's a waste of time for her, AND S/O!

That being said, many people ask: "Madam Herta, if you find that part about S/O annoying, why did you even agree to be with them?"

And her response is rather simple.

(Herta) "And that is any of your business, how, exactly?"

The way Herta gets around this little quirk of S/O's: Isn't it obvious? Just directly bring up whatever to where they can't beat around the bush.

(Herta) "I need a test subject and need to spend time with someone who can actually listen, S/O. Dinner will be made on time, probably."

(S/O) "...Shouldn't you ask if I want to be a test subject?"

Herta simply raised an eyebrow at S/O. They opened their mouth to say something else, but it's not like spending time with their (definitely young and attractive) girlfriend was the worst thing.

Even if there was at least a 50% chance of them imploding.

(S/O) sigh "Alright, what are we doing?"

And being fair to S/O, Herta doesn't really mind nor care of their blushy-attitude that they give her.

If anything, it makes them a little more fun to be around. Heavens know that Herta is a handful to be around, the least she could do for her beloved (test subject) was to return the favor.

Alongside Asta, and some of the Genius Society, S/O was also a voice of reason to stop some insane plan or research she had, lest the entire Herta Space Station blinks into some god-forsaken star, or some other freak abomination.

It also puts S/O's social skills to the test! They can't be a tsundere if they need to tell Asta that Herta was harnessing the power of a star to do Aeons knows what.

And that was the least of S/O's concerns. What they really had to worry about was when she was bored and had free time.

(Herta) "Hm...While I'm here on the Station, S/O, we need to get you a new set of clothes!"

(S/O) "You're not going to make me go into your wardrobe again, right?"

(Herta) "Well, I do intend for you to help me sometime in the next three years, so no, obviously. But that being said..."

She snaps her fingers and immediately, several puppets burst into the room.

(S/O) "You didn't need to snap to summon them."

(Herta) "Has it occurred to you that I do things because I like to, S/O?"

(S/O) "I think that's one of the first things I learned about you..."

(Herta) "Exactly! Now, let's have you visited by the Emanator of Beauty!"

About an hour passes and the entire room is devoured by rolling racks of clothes, with even some of the puppets acting as Coat Hangars, with their arms out-stretched into a T-Pose.

All the while, Herta is sitting on a floating key, trying to decide which shade of purple matched S/O the best, researching some other things on the side of a tablet.

With S/O checking themselves in a mirror, also held by a smaller Herta.

Herta appeared busy with the many things occupying her, S/O stealing a glance from the mirrors and quietly smiling to themselves.

(Herta) "...It'll last longer if you take a picture, y'know."

S/O shifted their eyes away and blushed, mumbling something under their breath much to her amusement.

(S/O) "D-Don't tease me!"

(Herta) "Hm? And you are going to do what exactly? If I continue to do so?"

Suddenly, Herta was by S/O's side, giving them the smirk they (loved) were irritated by so much.

(S/O) "I-I..."

(Herta) "Ah, get flustered. Naturally."

Herta chuckles to herself as she hands the outfit to S/O to try on, finally stepping back onto the ground and checking both herself and her lover in the mirror.

(Herta) "Now, chop chop! Try it on!"

(S/O) "Will this even look good on me?"

(Herta) "I'll ignore the doubt you have in my fashion sense, which is a crime against me I'll have you know, and say, obviously! I'm the one who chose it, and you're the one wearing it."

S/O's face heated up from Herta's own flavor of compliment and took the outfit, preparing to change again.

All the while, Herta just smiled to herself, and turned away for them to change.

She was still looking, and S/O knew that, but for the sake of their prideful heart, they chose not to say anything.

But...admittedly, S/O loved the attention, and Herta knew that damn well.

It was nice to have someone that could understand each other in a more intimate way, and it went both ways.

...Most of the time, anyways.

Its kind of hard to view your girlfriend the same way once she harnesses the power of a nearby star with some unfathomably complicated device just to see if she could and prove some random-ass researcher four hundred sectors away wrong.

S/O was prideful in not admitting they liked to kiss her, but holy shit that was kind of a whole other level.

===

A/N: Do you guys tell how much I love writing Herta? She's so damn funny. I always knew I had a taste for insane brunette scientists (See Hange), and DAMN Herta scratches that itch.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #herta x reader #herta hsr #herta x you #herta x y/n #the herta

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apollabarnes · 2 days ago

Text

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six // part seven // part eight // part nine // part ten // part eleven // part twelve // part thirteen // part fourteen // part fifteen // part sixteen // part seventeen // part eighteen

tommy and athena actually do go for coffee.

bobby wants to talk to evan in private, and tommy figures that by the time they get back hen, ravi and howie will have made their way over for a 118 confab.

tommy bites back the reflexive 'it doesn't mean anything yet' that wants to escape. it's hard not to say it, because bobby's team has a habit of being just a little bit bulletproof. tommy doesn't believe in jinxes, but he worries that saying it out loud will cancel out their luck.

he gets athena the kind of fancy coffee that she rarely indulges in and finds a table in the corner, angling his chair so she's mostly hidden from the rest of the shop.

"bobby has a terrible habit of not wanting to worry me," athena tells tommy, rubbing her temples. "i thought i broke him of that after the radiation scare."

"why does this keep happening to them," tommy asks rhetorically. it's not as if they didn't have crazy calls at the 118 before bobby came to los angeles. it just feels magnified because they're involved, now. "how are you doing?"

"i'm…" athena blows out a breath, sitting back in her chair, "no news is good news, right? i'm holding on to that right now."

"not a bad plan," tommy agrees. he's spent the last few months unbearably glad every time athena's stories about the 118 don't feature one of them in danger. tommy's considered asking her not to talk about them, but not hearing about them at all would have the opposite effect. he'd be constantly stressed out and coming up with reasons to run into them. tommy has first hand knowledge that running into evan isn't always the best thing. "what's the most unhelpful thing you want to say to bobby?"

athena rolls her eyes at him. "you're not trying to shrink me over here, are you?"

"i thought you might want to say it to someone that wasn't him. coming from a guy who famously says stupid shit to his…" tommy trails off, redirects, "cone of secrecy."

"putting a pin in that so we can come back to it," athena warns him. she takes a deep breath. "i want to tell him if he'd told anyone last night we could have started the tests right away, and if it is something serious those extra twelve hours might have helped."

"definitely a good thing you didn't say that to him. you basically called him an idiot."

athena laughs, dropping her head into her hands. "this might be the stupidest thing he's ever done," she continues, her voice muffled, "and it's a high bar to clear."

"so you're saying in the stupidity olympics, bobby's a pole vaulter," tommy jokes.

"did you see—" athena laughs harder.

"i did. i was impressed by his pole handling."

that sets athena off again. tommy's glad that they left the hospital, that they're somewhere unfamiliar. it's not that it's not funny, it's just… tommy can hear the strain in her voice. it's getting to her. he's not surprised. between the cruise and the fire and now this, bobby hasn't managed to go six months without being in life threatening danger. it's enough to make anyone crack, but there's no way athena would do that in front of bobby while they still don't know what's going on.

"do the rest of them," she says.

what the hell. tommy does. and because all of them run headfirst into danger and laugh while they do it, he picks equally dangerous sports.

"evan does the luge. hen and howie are two person bobsleigh. ravi's a speed cyclist. eddie is a speed skater," tommy grins at her.

"that's accurate," athena agrees after consideration. "i almost wish i had a shift today."

"can't think about all the stuff going wrong when you're busy serving and protecting," tommy agrees immediately. "let me guess, your captain said not to come in until bobby's out of the hospital."

"you've met her," athena says wryly.

"mine texted and told me to take the rest of the week. if you're looking for a buddy, well. call me."

athena raises an eyebrow. "where exactly are you spending that week?"

"don't ask me, i have no idea what i'm doing."

#911 fic #bucktommy #tommy kinard #athena grant #(just so you all know i've regretted not giving them a 'part x' title at the top and links at the bottom since part ten)#bobby lives au #this tag feels relevant??

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markkiatocafe · 2 days ago

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for the writing event could u please do yushi with scientist 🥹

scientist

a short story with yushi of nct wish

⚛︎ warnings: slight teasing, silly oblivious yushi, other than that pure fluff!!!!!

⚛︎ synop: you thought that by now, your pining would be obvious to your best friend. but apparently, he needs to be a professional to pick up on your signs 🤔

⚛︎ pairing: gn!reader x bestfriend!yushi

⚛︎ w.c: 513

⚛︎ a/n: i rlly hope this is ok…. it maybe ooc so im so so sorry if it is!!!! pls be kind if you have feedback or criticism >< i hope you all enjoy tho :3 i also got a teeny bit carried away with this one…. woopsies…. sometimes i need to stop letting the words carry me instead of my own brain

you were having a movie night with yushi. rewatching a series that brought a lot of comfort and nostalgia to the both of you, harry potter, was always a good way to just unwind after a long stressful week. you had been friends for a while now, at least a few years, so hangouts like this weren’t uncommon. giggles, childishly made pillow forts, popcorn, and fun. well, over all these years, it seems like there has been an advancement in how you felt about yushi.

maybe it was the way he relentlessly teased you, maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he loved. whatever it was, something had made you fall for yushi. and especially over this last year, you’ve been trying your hardest to give him signs, yet, apparently, the lingering touches and suspiciously-sweet compliments didn’t convince him.

“you know, yushi,” you spoke up, your voice muffled by the popcorn in your mouth, tone soft but holding a hint mischief, the sound of the movie still playing in the background. “you act like you’re all high-and-mighty, but you’re pretty oblivious to simple things.” you stated, your voice casual but teasing.

he raised an eyebrow, looking over at you and taking a piece of popcorn out of the bowl in between you two, eating it and swallowing before replying. “what do you mean?”

you let out a soft giggle, tilting your head and humming. “well, for example, yesterday. remember when i told you i got you your favorite perfume because i remembered you liked it?”

“yeah…?” he replied.

“do you remember the time i got you an exo album the day after you told me you liked them...?” you asked, drawing out your voice more in hopes of getting the idea into his head.

he nodded, smiling softly as his eyebrows knot together, confused still but intrigued. “yeah, that was really sweet of you. why does that make me oblivious though?“

you giggled, rolling your eyes and looking back to the tv. “i think it would be pretty obvious by now that i like you, no? i mean… yeah, friends can do that, but i even called you cute before, and you didn’t even think twice about that???”

his eyes widened at your sudden confession. “woah, woah, woah… that was, like, a passing comment. i didn’t think you meant it in… that way, you can’t blame me for that.”

you shrugged, looking back over at him, the look in your eyes growing more tender by the second. “fair. i’m guessing that means you don’t like me back though, with how you didn’t even mention that?” you inquired, not mad or bitter, but you couldn’t deny there was a little sting in your heart.

“hey,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “i never said that! don’t go putting words in my mouth… i actually like you, too.” he said, his voice quieting down a bit.

the sting fluttered into a warmth, a warmer smile falling on your lips. “well, i guess that’s one thing we both agree on then, huh?”

#markkiatocafe #kia’s post #kia’s 100 follower writing event <3 #nct #nct u #neo culture technology #nct wish #nct wish x reader #yushi x reader #nct wish fluff #yushi fluff #nct fluff #nct x reader

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karikarasuno · 17 hours ago

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part one | wc: 2.4k | suggestive content

“Please,” Nami pleads, stuffing a shirt into her duffel bag. “It’s just one night and it’s really good money.”

“I don’t know,” you say, shoulders practically up to your ears from how nervous the mere thought makes you.

“Come on, it’s just a few line dances. The real simple ones, I swear,” she says, hands together in prayer as she turns to face you. It’s hard saying no to her. She knows it. She abuses it. “You know how to line dance, right?”

You do, but you haven’t in years. Since you were a child. “Well yeah.”

“Perfect!” She claps in delight. “Be at Whitebeard’s by eight and ask for Marco.”

“Wait!” But she’s already hopping into the driver’s seat of her car, slamming the door and music blaring so loudly the vehicle begins vibrating.

“I didn’t actually agree to cover you.” You say to the cloud of dirt that now stands where Nami once stood. “Fucking great.”

You pull into Whitebeard’s before the clock strikes eight. And it’s so busy you fear the sandwich you had for lunch is going to make a less than ideal reappearance. Nami owes you big time for this. You shut the door of your grandpa’s cherry red pickup truck with enough force you’re surprised it doesn’t fall off its rusty hinges– the thing is older than you after all– before making your way into the establishment.

It’s your standard honky tonk. The music is loud, the dance floor is large, and the bar covers the length of an entire wall. Whitebeard’s tugs at a distant memory in your mind. One that you had long forgotten since it’s been decades since you last stepped foot in this small town. But you don’t have much time to ruminate in nostalgia when you hear your name called out over the music in the direction of the bar.

“Hi?” You question as you lean against the bartop to better hear the bartender.

“You’re covering for Nami tonight, right?”

“Unfortunately,” you nod, your gut twisting with anxiety. But he laughs, goodnaturedly. He seems kind, you deduce.

“I’m Marco,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I bartend on Friday nights when I’m free just to help the old man out.”

You shake his hand. And you wonder why the hell everyone in this town speaks to you as if you didn’t just show up a few weeks ago. The town is so small of course everyone knows everyone. And of course everyone knows you. You’re new. Shiny. Interesting.

“That’s nice of you,” you say, trying your hardest to plaster a friendly smile on your face.

“We do what we can.” Marco smiles in return, much brighter and friendlier than you know yours to be. “Speaking of, first lesson starts at 8:30. If you go to the DJ, he’ll let you know what’s on the setlist for tonight.”

He points to a booth that’s elevated to the right of the dancefloor. You don’t see anyone there, but when you turn around to point that out to Marco his figure has already disappeared behind a swinging door. What is up with these people and their tendency to just vanish?

Either way, you walk up to the booth, climbing the few steps to peer in when you see a familiar head of curly hair kneeling on the ground wrangling some knotted cords.

“Usopp?”

His head bangs on the table when he hears his name. The sound table jostles from the impact and he lets out a pathetic yelp before rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head.

“Oh, hey! What’re you doin’ here?” He’s standing on unsteady feet still clutching the back of his head.

You were just with Usopp a few hours ago at the dance studio. He teaches hip hop and is also the informal IT guy whenever Robin can’t figure something out. She claims it’s because of her age, but really you know she can’t be bothered to find a solution if it’s not in a book.

“Nami couldn’t make it,” you shrug, trying not to convey how nervous you really are. But that doesn’t last long when you look at Usopp and his eyes are like saucers and his jaw is dropped.

“So she stuck the Friday crowd on you?!”

“That bad?” Your heart kicks rapidly in your chest.

“Nami’s a real piece of work,” he sighs before grabbing a sheet of paper from his bag. It’s the setlist for the evening. “Good luck. Let me know if you need any help.”

And before you can begin to form the question that’s in your head with your lips, he jumps out of the other end of the booth to talk with someone on the far side of the dance floor. You might actually murder someone tonight if they keep this up.

“And if I did need any help what good would you be,” you mutter under your breath as you scan over the list of songs for the evening. You’re familiar with some of them, especially the early slots but the others don’t ring a bell. You’re officially fucked.

“You’re not gonna get any help with that attitude.” There’s a playful note to the man’s voice. A man you’re not familiar with. So regardless of the intent, the comment agitates you. But when you look up to convey your irritation with him, the words sort of just die in your throat. You aren’t expecting the man attached to the voice to be so… hot. He’s wearing a cowboy hat with chunky dark curls sticking out around his neck. He’s got freckles sprayed across his cheeks perfectly, like someone drew them on. They make him look almost cute. But the cuteness ends there. He’s broad, built in a way that indicates he works a laborious job. And he’s holding two cases of beer in one arm like it’s nothing. Where the hell did he come from?

“Sorry,” you say, the apology rushing out with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve just never taught line dancing before so…”

“Nami flaked again,” he says with a full laugh, you feel it run down your body. But when his words register your eyes widen.

“What do you mean again?” You ask, making your way down the steps quickly and with urgency. “How often does she do this?!”

“Not often, but enough for it to be a bit of a problem,” he laughs again, somehow fuller than the last one.

“Right, ok.” You nod to try and cover up the bile that’s threatening to claw its way up your throat. Come Monday you and her are gonna have to have a very serious discussion.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” he says, very clearly noticing the wreck you are and trying to salvage whatever confidence you might still have.

“Ace!” His head turns to the bar where Marco is standing and waving a towel at him to get his attention. “Stop flirting with the new girl and bring me those beers. We already got customers.”

Your cheeks start to burn. Heads have turned your way and you feel yourself start to wilt under the attention. Especially since you weren’t flirting. At least, you really don’t think so.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Ace says, clapping you on the shoulder. “Just let me know if ya need anything.”

And he, like everyone else, just walks away. Unprompted and without a word from you. And if you’re being completely honest, the southern hospitality is really starting to gnaw at your patience. Not because you think it’s insincere. But because you just don’t believe it. Maybe you’re cynical.

“Take this,” Usopp says, finally back from wherever he went and he’s tossing you a headset. You catch it sloppily, off guard.

“What’s this for?”

“Five minutes til show time.” He waves at the growing crowd. “Giddy up.”

You slip the headset on. Feeling very Britney Spears circa 2001 as you step onto the floor. You shove your nerves to the side. You’ve been in front of audiences before. It used to be home to you. Not so much anymore, though.

“How’s everyone feelin’ tonight?” That’s Usopp yelling into a mic above. And you’re not doing so hot. But everyone else seems to be just fine as screams resonate through the building. “We got a newbie in the house tonight, so y’all take it easy on her.”

You send him a playful glare from your place in front of the crowd. There’s some familiar faces. Robin is here with her husband and she tips her beer bottle at you in greeting as she sends you a reassuring wink. There’s some parents that you recognize as well since you teach their kids twice a week in your jazz class. This is definitely a popular way to spend a Friday night and you quickly realize you're in way over your head.

“Alright, everybody, we ready?” There is a chorus of yeahs and whistles. The energy is infectious, it’s hard not to feel the rush of adrenaline thrum beneath your skin. “We’re keeping it classic for this first one. How do we feel about the cowboy hustle?”

The first lesson goes well. It’s a line dance you know well enough to teach, so your confidence surges, even though you’ve never taught such a rowdy bunch before. The lesson only lasts about ten minutes before Usopp moves on and an hour flies by and you find yourself instructing the second lesson of the night.

You’re not as comfortable. A little shakier and it’s because the crowd practically doubled in size. You don’t know how Nami does this. You can barely hear your own instruction over the noise and you have a mic strapped to your head.

“Here.” A chilled vodka shot with a lemon wedge slides in front of you. “I had Marco whip this up for you.”

You glance between the shot and Ace. He’s leaning against the bartop with his forearm and his biceps look like they’re about to rip the seams of his white t-shirt. “You look like you need it.”

“Are you saying I’m stiff?” You’re insulted to say the least. If he can tell you’re off your usual game, then everyone else can probably sense it too.

“A little,” he says, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. “But don’t feel too bad. Nami usually downs about four shots before she even sets foot on that dance floor.”

You groan, contemplating even taking the shot before you grip the small glass and mutter, “ fuck it, fine.”

It burns on the way down, but the lemon you bite down on helps. You already feel your muscles start to loosen, but it’s not quite enough.

“One more?” Ace asks, holding up a finger and smirking down at you. Getting drunk around him is probably a bad judgment call on your part. He has a face you can’t really say no to. But you nod, accepting the fact that cowboy is apparently your new type.

The night escapes you. It’s 12:30am. You’re three more shots deep. And dancing has never been easier. You’re on the final line dance of the night.

“Ok, I’m thinkin’ we should slow it down for this last one,” you say, pointing at Usopp who sends you an eager thumbs up. The song starts, the melody is languid and sensual.

“Everyone who knows it to the front.” You gesture to where you were previously standing as you make your way through the crowd. “Everyone else? Behind me.”

This is a popular one. So mostly everyone is familiar with the steps. And if you’re not it’s easy enough to jump in and catch on. Your hips swivel during a forward step as you kick into a turn to face a new direction. You’re lost in the music. And so you’re not expecting to look up and see a pair of eyes dead set on you. They’re burning as they drag over your body, pausing as you roll your hips in the opposite direction. The feeling is clearly mutual with Ace. And for the first time in a while the sticky sensation of desire slithers low in your gut.

****

“Ya know, you never gave me your name,” Ace calls out to you in the nearly empty parking lot. You flinch in place a bit because you were distracted counting how much you made. Three hundred fucking dollars. For four hours of work. Maybe you forgive Nami just a tiny bit.

“I’m sure you got it when Usopp yelled it over the speakers several times in a row,” you laugh, leaning your back against your truck as you face him.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, hands in his pockets as he steps closer to you, “but I wanna hear how you say it.”

“Right,” you say sarcastically, barely suppressing your eye roll when you smile at him. He’s good. And it’s working. So you say your name for him. Only because he asked so nicely.

“Pretty,” he grins.

“Thanks,” you lick across your teeth, “I got it for my birthday.”

“And funny.” He takes another step closer to you. The toes of your boots nearly touch. “But I was talking about you. Your name is very pretty, though.”

“Does this usually work for you?” You drop your head back to rest against your truck, it makes it easier to look at him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs again, the distance between your shoes closing when he shuffles forward. “You tell me.”

You reach up, brushing your fingers over the silver chain that sits on Ace’s collarbone. Then, still fueled by the last traces of alcohol in your system, you hook your forefinger around the cool metal and tug him down. Until his nose is just a breath away from yours. This isn’t like you. You’ve never done anything like this. You live a regimented life. You don’t decide to hook up with random cowboys you just met.

But this cowboy is handsome. And charming. And it’s not like you’ll see him all the time considering this is the first time you’ve seen him in the last month and a half that you’ve lived here. So, fuck it. Tonight he’s yours.

“Maybe a little bit,” you say coyly, rising on your toes so that your nose nuzzles his.

“Mmm,” he hums, and you notice the way his eyes drift closed. It makes your heart thump heavily against your sternum. “Before I kiss you, though, I have to admit something.”

Your heart drops into your stomach in anticipation. Your mind jumps to conclusions it has no business jumping to. “What?”

“This never works.” He smiles into the kiss. Sparks light behind your eyes. And tomorrow, you’ll decide if you regret this. For now? You’ll save a horse and ride a cowboy.

#cowboy!ace au #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #lets see what this spirals out into

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