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silentscrying · 1 month ago

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🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track three: something about a beat

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, hopeless stupid pining, alcohol, mentions of deceased parent, maki is Fed Up, anxiety, unbearably cute dogs. || sfw. 9k words.

“OKAY, IT’S UP,” Nobara says, grinning at you over her laptop. You’re sprawled across the living room at Takuma’s place, surrounded by a random combination of your band and his while others are in classes. After spending last night mixing the single, Takuma helped Nobara set up an artist profile for the band, and now your music is available on streaming services. Just like that.

“That’s so weird,” you say, grinning as you pull up Spotify on your phone. Next Fix by Cursed Technique. Strange to see your face on there, a photo taken of all of you by some freshman when you last performed at The Fix. Nobara sends the link in your group chat, and Toge responds within seconds.

freak no. 1: FAME freak no. 1: FORTUNE freak no. 1: wait it’s not opening freak no. 1: nvm i’m just stupid

“Does he ever pay attention in class?” Nobara mutters. Maki snorts.

Yuta is also in class, but that means he’s locked in, all his devices on Do Not Disturb. You don’t think Toge’s turned DND on a single time in his life.

“I’m going to Kinji’s!” Kirara shouts from the front entryway, and Yuji leaps to his feet and disappears down the hall, barreling back out of his room seconds later.

“Wait! Can you give this to Panda while you’re there?” He hands her a drive, and Kirara rolls her eyes and takes it.

“You need to slow down every once in a while,” she says, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Okay, bye. I’ll be back in a few hours.” The dogs follow her to the door and return the living room when she’s gone, curling up on either side of Megumi, who’s busy writing some paper in the corner.

“What was that?” Nobara asks.

“Demo drive for the radio station,” Takuma says. “Panda plays our stuff sometimes. I bet he’d play yours, too.”

“That’d be sick,” Nobara says approvingly. She turns to bother Megumi, poking at him until he takes his headphones off and talks to her, and Yuji strolls into the room and flops down directly on the floor.

“Comfy?” you ask, poking him with a socked foot.

“Mm. Yeah.”

“Ah, look what you did, Kugisaki,” Megumi says, and you look up to see Shiro trotting toward you with her tail wagging, having abandoned her post at her owner’s side.

“That was not my fault! You’re the one who moved.”

“Because you kept poking me!”

You immediately slide off the couch onto the floor, letting Shiro sit in your lap. “Um, excuse me,” Takuma says, offended. You crane your neck to look up at him behind you on the couch. His face is lit up by his computer as he works on a string of code he tried (and failed) to explain to you, and there’s laughter in his eyes despite the affronted tone of his voice.

“Favorite,” you inform him with a wide, cheeky smile. He very maturely sticks his tongue out at you.

“Toge message,” Nobara informs you all, reading off her phone. “He says omg we have four listeners do you think they’re writing slutty fanfiction about us already.” She glances at you. “Petition to remove him from the chat—oh, look, he started sending the wolf memes again.”

Hanging out like this has become natural so quickly you almost forget you haven’t been friends with Shibuya Incident for ages. You feel almost as much at home in the tapestry-covered living room here as you do in the plant-filled kitchen of your own house down the street.

Maki checks her watch, sighing. “We should get going soon. The guys will be back in half an hour.” Then you have rehearsal, even though you’re not one of the three bands performing tomorrow night. When you do take the stage next week, you want to be ready.

Nobara is trying to read Megumi’s texts over his shoulder, which isn’t working out well for her, and he tells Maki, “Yes, please, take your invasive little gremlin home.” He puts his hand right on Nobara’s face and pushes her away, and she screeches and tries to tackle him, but he’s already sitting in a beanbag chair in the corner, so it doesn’t really do much except make Kuro jump on top of them both.

You glance up at Takuma again, still stroking Shiro’s fur while the others start to stand, ready to head home. “You rehearsing today too?”

“I’d hope so,” he shrugs.

“Yes, dipshit, in two hours. If you ever read the group chat,” Megumi says.

Takuma doesn’t seem fazed by Megumi’s irritation and just shrugs. “We have a new song for tomorrow.”

“You didn’t tell me!” You poke at his knee in retribution for his secrecy. “I wanna hear it!”

“You will,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

“Skipper, help, I don’t wanna walk our gremlin home by myself,” Maki calls from the door, and you reluctantly pat Shiro on the head and stand. She follows you to the entryway and sniffs at you while you cram your feet into your sneakers.

“Maki Zenin.” Nobara turns up her nose and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you hated me so much, why didn’t you just say so?”

“Bye!” Yuji shouts from the living room, and you all call out varying goodbyes and noncommittal sounds before making your way out the door and down the block, the afternoon air chilly against your cheeks.

Nobara waits all of ten seconds before spinning around and walking backward, grinning at you mischievously. “I bet Ino wrote a song about you.”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” you laugh. “He didn’t.” You can’t imagine you’ve given him all that much to work with. What would he write, that you like coffee and drums and Megumi’s dogs?

“Why else wouldn’t he show you? Don’t you guys text each other song lyrics like the little romantic fucks you are?” Your face is flaming, and you’re suddenly very grateful for the cool of the wind against your skin. The idea of him writing a song about you plants something weird in your gut—not something bad, just something unexpected and warm and blooming.

You try not to show it and your friends see right through you, Nobara turning back to skip up the drive with a satisfied grin and Maki rolling her eyes at the both of you.

“I’m gonna write a song, too,” Nobara declares, unlocking the door and pushing her way inside. “Skipper and Ino, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S—”

This time, you and Maki speak in tandem. “Shut up!”

—

“There’s a joke here,” Gojo says, tapping both of his index fingers together while he thinks. “About being a drummer and a journalist. Something about a beat.”

You laugh, jotting another note on the lined paper of your small spiral notebook. “I hate to tell you, but I’ve heard that one before.”

You’re not sure features qualifies as a specific beat, more of a broad category, but your staff isn’t nearly large enough to assign people to smaller specialties. Plus, it’s a college publication, designed for experimentation and growth. Nobody wants to be boxed in yet. That’ll come later, out in the monotony of the real world, and you’ll be confined to some hyperspecific beat like neighborhood crime or high school basketball.

“No!” Gojo cries, dragging his hands down his face like it’s the end of the world. “I can’t believe somebody plagiarized me before I even said it.”

“That’s not how that works,” Utahime cuts in dryly, sliding three shots across the counter to the waiting group of sophomores and then effortlessly throwing together another cocktail.

Gojo leans toward you, shadowing out your notes, and stage-whispers, “You see what I have to put up with?”

You do, actually, see what Utahime has to put up with. She long ago put down a line of blue painter’s tape to divide her side of the bar from Gojo’s, and she preaches frequently that there will be dire consequences if he crosses it.

Of course, he crosses it at every opportunity, and here he is, still.

It’s also just how the two bartenders split up the work, the customers, and you write that down too, that it’s an effective division of labor. “Don’t read my notes,” you tell Gojo as he squints at your writing upside down. “It’ll wreck the journalistic integrity.” He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout that reminds you violently of Toge, who’s taking photos of Utahime as she works.

You glance over to the stage, where Angel is performing the last number of her set, a bouncy, belty song that you recognize from a video she posted earlier this week. The crowd loves it, dancing around and singing along, but still, you think she’ll have a tougher time making it through as the only solo artist remaining in the competition.

You whoop and cheer as she hits her last note, holding it for an ungodly amount of time, and Gojo eventually has to abandon his teasing to do his job. When Toge thinks he’s got enough photos, the two of you slip back into the crowd, Panda commentating on the change of artist as you catch up to your friends.

“And now, here’s your alt rock duo, your boys, the Kamos,” he says as you come to a stop beside Yuta. “Give it up!”

Nobara very loudly gives it up.

“Hi.” Yuta nudges you. “How’s the reporting going?”

“Good.” Noritoshi and Choso settle in on stage, tuning their guitar and bass and making girls swoon in the front row but somehow remaining entirely oblivious to it. “You’re not going home tomorrow, right?”

Yuta shakes his head. This weekend is fall break, which just means that there were no classes today. You spent the first day of your three-day weekend cramming for midterms.

Toge’s heading out after this and Nobara will leave early in the morning, but Maki and Yuta will be here for the weekend. You wonder about Takuma and his band, but you can’t ask right now—they’re all backstage, waiting to go on after the Kamos.

The boys in question, when they’re not doing covers, have incredibly nonsensical song names that have little to nothing to do with their lyrics. The first track of theirs you ever heard was called Song About the Time My Dog Got Lost for Three Hours.

“Okay,” Choso says after their cover of a song by The Smiths. “This one’s called Please Don’t Tell Your Mom I Was At Your House Past Curfew.”

He and Noritoshi then proceed to play the most upbeat, energizing alt rock shit you’ve ever heard. You love these guys, and the crowd does too, the way they don’t take themselves too seriously but they’re genuinely talented. But it’s making you nervous for Takuma and his band, because only one group goes on tonight. Only one.

No, you think, shrugging it off. They got this.

When Shibuya Incident finally walks on stage, the ensuing roar of applause before they even do anything eases whatever worries you might have had. They were slotted at the end of tonight’s set for a reason. Everyone loves them.

Without prelude, they launch into a song you recognize from their EP, a fast-paced track with a pretty simple chord progression that gets entirely flipped on its head in the bridge. You let Yuta spin you around as you dance with the rest of the crowd, the lights and sound washing over you. Yuji’s in his element, Kirara is fucking killing it, and Megumi—as always—is the rock the band stands on, unerring tempo and steady presence keeping everyone on track.

After the song finishes with a crazy riff from Kirara, and the crowd takes a minute to freak out and then slowly wind down, Takuma grabs the mic to address the audience.

“Hi again,” he says, scanning the clusters of people from his place on the low stage. His gaze lands on you and your friends, and he smiles a little wider. “That was Godspeed. We’re gonna slow it down a bit for our next song. It’s a new one. We’re calling it Curious.”

Nobara practically launches herself over Toge to get to you and shake you by the shoulders. “What did I say?” she hisses.

“Oh my god,” you say, shoving her off. “They haven’t even started yet.” But you look back at Takuma to find he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

To your surprise, the instrumentals don’t start first. Most of Shibuya Incident’s music opens with a riff or a fill or at least four bars of introduction. But this time, Takuma leans into the mic and starts singing, just a low “ooooh,” and the rest of the band comes in one by one—Megumi, then Kirara, then Yuji. Kirara’s harmonizing on a higher note, and the effect is a slow, dissonant build that makes you lock in, all anticipation.

Then Takuma tugs the mic from the stand and sings,“I see your eyes, curious, curious, you wanna know why the sky’s so goddamn blue. I hear your voice, curious, curious, you’re asking me if I’d ever fall for you.”

And as you listen, Nobara’s smile just gets wider and wider, and Takuma keeps making fleeting eye contact with you, and you realize abruptly that she was right.

This song is about you.

Takuma’s said it to you before, in passing, how he likes the way you look at the world—through a journalist’s lens, curious about how everything works, always searching for unseen answers.

“Wish I could see my life like you do,” he and Kirara sing in unison. “Wish I could walk the streets each night… wonderin’ if the full moon sees you, but I just keep lookin’, lookin’ down at the time.”

You’re transfixed, just like the first night you saw Takuma perform live, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the stage if you tried. Someone should write a story about him, you think. This man could be on the cover of Rolling Stone and you wouldn’t question it.

God, you’re so far gone, aren’t you?

When the set is over, the last song finishing with a long, drawn-out chord, Takuma thanks the crowd and hands the mic off to Panda to take over. As the band disappears one by one into the backstage area, he lays out the voting process.

“The voting period will last ten minutes, assuming no technical difficulties,” he says. “QR codes, as usual, are posted around the bar. If you’re a competitor, you can’t vote. Make sure you’re logged into your .edu accounts or you won’t be able to access the form…”

Your fingers are tapping nervously at your thighs, the crowd around you already glued to their phone screens. The band isn’t back out on the floor yet—Panda will call all three artists up at the end of the voting period and announce the finalist live.

Sweat is starting to pool in the palms of your clammy hands, and you wipe it on your jeans, anxious. To you, there’s no question. But it’s not up to you.

“Relax,” Yuta says, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It won’t even be close, Skip.”

After the longest ten minutes of your life, Hana Kurusu, the Kamos, and Shibuya Incident join Panda back on stage, a dramatic spotlight bouncing between each artist as Panda draws out the announcement. “And the artist from tonight moving on to the finals in two weeks is…”

“Just say it,” Maki huffs beside you, and Yuta chuckles and nudges her with a shoulder. She tries to hide the slight upturn of her lips, but that’s not going to slide past you.

You’ll tease her later. For now—

“Shibuya Incident!”

The reaction is explosive, both on the floor and the stage. Yuji practically leaps onto Kirara’s back, and Takuma’s face goes slack in surprise before a shy smile works its way across his spotlit features, Megumi being his nonchalant, unaffected self in the midst of it all. Nobara is screaming, and you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, Toge whooping and snapping photos as the Kamos and Hana crowd the band, congratulating them on the victory.

Takuma looks out into the crowd again and you wave, smiling unabashedly, so fucking proud and excited and thinking maybe, maybe, if you make it too, you’ll be facing off against each other, and wouldn’t that be something?

Maybe you shouldn’t be so thrilled. He’s the competition, after all.

But if he wins for going up there and singing curious, curious with his eyes locked on yours, you suppose it wouldn’t be all that bad.

—

Most of Saturday passes in a barrage of classwork and inconsistent, snacky meals in between, the diet of a harried college student, ramen and chips and whatever actual food Yuta leaves for you in the fridge. He’s back from work by three, and Maki wraps up her own work around the same time you do, late afternoon creeping into evening. The three of you are curled up in the living room, the TV on while Yuta and Maki try to pretend they’re not looking at each other.

You need to get them alone.

you: are you busy takuma: not at all takuma: what’s up? you: mind if i crash your house?

You glance up and swear Yuta has somehow, in the last two seconds, moved closer to Maki on the couch.

you: i think yuta and maki need some ~ALONE TIME~ takuma: TEA takuma: sorry kirara told me to stop saying that in response to everything that happens ever takuma: it’s fun tho

“I’m going to Takuma’s,” you announce, and Maki raises a brow at you.

“Again?”

“Sue me for having friends.”

Yuta’s brows crease a bit at the word friends, but he doesn’t comment. With a furtive glance back, you grab your shoes and slip out the door, successfully leaving Maki and Yuta alone in the house for an indeterminate amount of time.

Please, you think. One of them has to make a fucking move soon.

Takuma answers the door before you can knock. “Hey.”

“No pups today?” you ask as you step past him into the entryway, kicking off your shoes.

“Sadly,” Takuma says. “Fushiguro took ‘em with him, wherever he went. Ah, man. Did you only come over for them?” His tone is teasing as he closes the front door behind you, trading the October cold for the warmth of the house. “Afraid I’m a letdown.”

“Takuma,” you scold at his self-deprecation. “You’re basically an excited puppy yourself, so—”

“Hey!” he squawks, and then thinks about it and tilts his head, conceding. “Fine. Maybe. Yeah, okay.”

“What have you been up to?” you ask as the two of you make your way to the living room.

“Procrastination. Guitar instead of homework, mostly. You?”

“Same,” you sigh. “Well, not the guitar part. But I should have been way further ahead on my homework by now.” You shrug. You’ll get it done; you always do.

You settle in easily on the couch, and the two of you boot up the Wii and play a few rounds of Mario Kart because someone left the disc in. And when you’ve both beaten each other enough times to lose count, Takuma mentions something about your single and you realize you haven’t checked the stats.

“You can see more on a computer,” he says, and you follow him up to his room, where he cedes control of the device to you. You pull up the artist profile and grin at the steady upward climb of listeners. It’s not a ton, but this only went up on Thursday.

“We haven’t even done anything to promote this,” you admit, spinning in Takuma’s desk chair to face him. “I don’t even know how people are finding it.”

He immediately looks down, which means he knows something. You nudge him with your foot. “What? What does that face mean? Takuma.”

“I maybe gave Panda a drive of the mix,” he shrugs, talking fast like the meaning of the words might elude you if he mumbles enough. “And he maybe played it at the radio station earlier today. Several times.”

A wave of affection crashes into you so fast that you jump up and throw your arms around him without thinking, laughing into his shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that!” You pull back, grinning. “That was really sweet. Thank you. Seriously.”

“Ah, it was nothin’.” He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as self-conscious.

“Not nothing,” you say softly. He smiles.

After a moment, he glances at the window and seems to come to a decision. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself.”

“Wanna go out on the roof?”

You blink, processing the words, instinctively looking to his window. You’ve never really realized it before, but it opens out onto a flat expanse of shingles, a perfect lookout right outside Takuma’s bedroom.

Your grin is answer enough, and he unlatches the window and pulls it open. He glances back at you, up and down, and you feel yourself blush before you realize he’s taking in what you’re wearing. He grabs a thick jacket from the closet and tosses it to you, then shrugs one on himself and leads the way, gripping the window frame with one hand and pulling himself outside. After a moment of consideration, he reaches back in and grabs his acoustic guitar by the neck from its place against the wall, pulling it out with him.

When the window shuts behind you, you’re immediately grateful for the protection of the extra layer. Even with your hands balled in the sleeves of your hoodie, it’s chilly out here.

You’re surprised by how much of the campus you can see spread out in the distance. It’s early evening, but the days are getting shorter, the sun a misleading blaze of heat in the otherwise cold hour.

“This,” you say, “is fucking awesome.”

“Right? I called dibs on the room as soon as we toured. For this.” He grins, leaning back on his palms, legs spread out in front of him. You lie back on the roof, letting the cool surface seep through your hood, staring up at the sky.

“So Maki and Yuta,” he says, shaking his head fondly. “Are they finally a thing?”

“I don’t know, but if they’re gonna do anything about it, it’s not gonna be while anyone else is home.” You shrug, or at least do whatever approximation of shrugging you can when you’re bundled in a bulky hoodie and jacket and lying on a roof.

Honestly, Yuta and Maki are some of your favorite people on this planet, and you can’t imagine anyone else who really deserves them. They’re the de facto mom and dad of your group—as in, Yuta is the band mom and Maki’s the gruff father who won’t admit his affection for the pet he didn’t want to get but ended up loving anyway.

“Man, I’m glad I wasn’t around when Kirara and Hakari were in their pining phase,” Takuma chuckles. He pulls his legs in, sitting cross-legged, and picks up the guitar, idly tuning it as he speaks. “Then there’s Itadori, probably picks up girls everywhere he goes and has never once realized it.”

“What about Megumi?” You let your head loll to the side, looking at Takuma with the guitar settled in his lap.

“Fushiguro? I don’t know, man, he doesn’t tell us anything. He has like, resting yearning face. I’ve got no idea. I don’t even know where he is right now, just that he’s supposed to be back really late.”

“That means the dogs will be back?” you say hopefully.

Takuma shakes his head, strumming another chord, and another, fingers moving deftly across the frets. “I’m not enough for you, huh?”

“I said no such thing.”

He plucks out a happy little melody on the guitar, looking at you. “Wanna learn?”

You sit up, your hood falling back off your head in the process. “Really?”

In answer, he hands you the guitar, scooting closer to you to show you where to place your fingers. You’ve been around your bandmates enough to know the basics, but you let him teach you anyway, giggling a little when he guides you through a three-chord progression and says, “Damn, you’re a natural.”

He leans back and stares at the sky, listening to you play. Eventually you add a few other basic chords into the mix, varying your strumming patterns, already feeling the strain in your fingertips from the unfamiliar press of the strings.

“So,” you say, still idly messing around on a G chord. Takuma props himself up on his elbows, looking over at you. “What was the incident in Shibuya? Have you been to Shibuya?”

He snorts. “Nope. Honestly, it was more to make people ask the question. You know in the Marvel movies, how Hawkeye and Black Widow are always talking about Budapest?”

“And nobody knows what the hell happened there,” you say, laughing. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve never even been to Japan,” Takuma admits. “Fushiguro has, though. Maybe he had an incident in Shibuya. Who knows?”

G, C, D. D, C, G. You play the chords over and over, strumming softly, slowly, letting your finger catch on each of the strings, then five of them, then four.

“This is a really nice guitar.”

“Yeah.” There’s a beat of silence that makes you glance up, weighted differently than the usual pauses in conversation. Takuma is sitting up now, knees pulled loosely to his chest. “Was my dad’s.”

“He taught you to play,” you remember aloud, recalling your conversation in the coffee shop. But now you’re hung up on that word: was. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, but part of you feels like his words are a sort of quiet invitation, like he wants to tell you, but doesn’t want to force it. “I… is he…?”

“He died when I was twelve,” Takuma admits, eyes fixed on the sky. “Uh, car accident. It was stupid, some issue with the other guy’s car. Couldn’t stop it.” You’ve never heard his voice like this before, taut, oddly thin. Carefully, gently, you set the guitar on the roof beside you, watching him.

“Were you…”

“In the car?” Takuma sniffs. “Ah. Yeah.”

“Oh,” you breathe, and that’s what it is, more of a breath than a word. “I—Takuma…”

When he laughs, there’s no humor in it. It’s a hollow kind of chuckle, one that says everything he can’t. “It’s why I learned to skate, actually,” he says quietly, not meeting your eyes. “I’d get everywhere that way. I didn’t—want to drive, I guess. Got my license late and everything. I think people thought I was just a slacker.”

Whatever words you might scrounge up feel inadequate for a grief this large. You don’t want to pity him, and you don’t want to dismiss him, and that’s always the problem with hard conversations, isn’t it? What a line to walk.

“You’re not a slacker,” you say eventually, and he raises a brow at you. “I mean, maybe you procrastinate coding projects to a worrying extent, but you always get it done.” You smile thinly. “You don’t give up in any way that matters, Takuma. I like that about you.”

He chuckles. “Nanami said something like that, once.” His eyes go far-away again, just for a second. “He’s kind of the closest thing… like… I don’t know. I’ve known Nanami for a really long time. He was my dad’s friend. And I guess he sort of became a father figure, after…”

He shrugs. “It’s probably a big part of why I decided to go here. That, and it’s not too far from my mom’s. I don’t know that she’d have been thrilled if I went somewhere farther.”

“You’re not home,” you say carefully, a question but not question. “For break?”

“She’s on a business trip,” he says. “So not much point. But I’ll see her at Christmas, at least.”

For a while the silence stretches out comfortably between you, like a weighted blanket. You can’t ignore it, but it isn’t unwelcome. At some point you scooted closer to him, and now you sit side by side, only the layers of your jackets separating you.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say eventually, soft, unwilling to break the quiet. He nods.

“You didn’t go home either,” he points out, an unspoken question in the spaces between words. “Is it just ‘cause you’re from so far away, or…”

“Yeah. A Friday off didn’t feel like enough of a break to warrant a flight back.” But that’s not all of it. His silence tells you he knows it, too. He’s been so candid with you all night. You can share this part of yourself, you decide.

There’s something about Takuma, anyway, that makes you want to tell him things. You want to know him, and you want him to know you—you now, here, at school, but also you there, home, in the past.

“I haven’t been home since July,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest, mirroring him. “My town is… small. I liked it when I was little. But the older I got the more I started to feel, just—I don’t know, stifled?”

Your hometown used to feel huge, like you could explore it forever on your Razor scooter and never find all its secrets. But you grew, and the town didn’t grow with you, and suddenly you were standing outside your high school realizing you knew every corner of the self-proclaimed suburban city, every street and coffee shop and alley. You’ve always been curious. And at some point, there wasn’t anything left in that place for you to be curious about.

“I love my home. I love my parents. It’s just… I needed to get out. I don’t think they ever really understood that.”

It’s easier to admit things when you’re looking straight ahead like this, out over the lines and curves of buildings, picking out street lamps, watching a few stray cars make their way around slow corners.

“Is it what you wanted it to be?” he asks quietly. “Here, I mean.” He nods out to the vast stretch of campus, spread across the city. So many corners you’ve been here years and haven’t found them all.

Campus is weird on break, you muse, looking out over the darkness. A whole parallel world for you to explore, the shadowed version of the place. A video game map on single-player, a dead server. Hardly any lights on in the windows, no kids out on the street. Like a ghost town. But it still doesn’t feel empty to you. There’s so much promise in it.

“Yeah,” you answer after a moment, soft. “Yeah, I think it is.”

A ghost town that isn’t lonely, somehow. You could write a song about it, you think. Friends with all the dead in my ghost town. The phrase plays itself out in your head, and it sounds like something moodier than your band usually goes for. It sounds like Shibuya Incident.

You wonder if this is what it means to be in a relationship—not a romantic one, necessarily, but a friendship, or any kind of bond between two creative people. If it’s this, the sharing of intellectual property with another person to the extent that their voice and yours start to blend.

It’s in the way Nobara can finish your sentences when you’re throwing out potential verses, scrambling for rhymes. How Toge and Yuta can anticipate each other’s movements, match chord progressions without talking about them. How Maki slips into your tempo seamlessly, every single time.

And now your lyrics sound like something his band would play. Maybe Takuma’s songwriting will start sounding like yours, too.

You don’t think you’d mind.

“Can I tell you something?” Takuma murmurs after a moment, sounding hesitant.

You rest a cheek on your knees, hands clasped together in front of your shins, facing him. “Mhm.”

“That song last night,” he whispers, and he’s not looking at you, just staring out at the rapidly darkening campus. “It was about you. And how you—I don’t know, the way you look at things. Like they’re always so full of potential. I wish I could do that. You just see things and want to know more. I like… watching you, being curious.” He pauses for a beat and then quickly adds, “Not in like, a creepy way! Just—I don’t know.”

A chuckle slips through your lips against your will, the darkness hopefully hiding the color in your cheeks. Maybe you can blame it on the cold. “Watching?” you ask, teasing. “I can’t imagine I’m all that intriguing. There’s a lot of cool people around here, y’know.”

“Skip,” he murmurs, and now his eyes are locked on yours. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

Every nerve in your body is hyperaware of his proximity, and his hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the touch ghosting over you, barely there, hesitant. A nonverbal question. Is this okay?

You lean into the warmth, letting his breath wash over you, mingling with your own in the space between your lips, smaller and smaller and smaller.

He’s watching you, closely, giving you a chance to pull away. So many words exchanged tonight, but you don’t need any for this.

You don’t pull away.

It’s slow at first, and soft, and hesitant. The shingles dig into the heel of your hand as you lean forward on one arm, a grainy feeling on your fingertips, in the grooved imprints left by the guitar strings. You find your free hand moving up to his shoulder, pushing, guiding him down until his back is pressed against the roof and you’re over him, lips locked with his. You look at him, and he’s so full of potential. You want to know everything about him, you want to know how he works, you want to ask questions. And you do, with your tongue along the seam of his lips, and your hand tangled in his hair, and his breath mixing with yours in the air. It’s near full dark now, feeling later than it really is, evening in autumn.

You’re not cold anymore.

He deepens the kiss, body coming up to meet yours, and you feel like maybe this roof is the top of the whole world, because how could you ever feel higher than this?

“Takuma,” you murmur, and you kiss him again, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this way before, but you’ll do maybe anything in the world to feel this way again.

And then a sharp, deep sound makes you jump, scrambling to sit up on the shingles, breathing heavy from the kiss and the noise. Did that come from inside or out?

“What—”

“Oh, crap,” Takuma groans, pulling open the window. “Someone’s home.” He looks back at you, cheeks flushed from the cold or the kiss or both, looking a little helpless, a little apologetic, and you can’t help the small laugh that bursts from you at the absurdity of the situation. You feel like a teenager getting caught by your parents.

“We should…” He nods toward the window. You hand him the guitar, then crawl back over to the window and slip inside after him, the warmth a stark relief from the temperature you’ve gotten so used to. Your heart is a jackhammer, rapidly pecking away at the once-stable structure of yourself.

You kissed him.

You kissed Takuma.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out with still-cold hands.

utah: [1 Image Attachment] utah: dinner?

Admittedly, the pasta does look amazing, and your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I should go,” you say awkwardly, holding up the phone for Takuma to see.

“Uh, yeah, uh—for sure, no problem, I should go see what’s up down there anyway,” he says after a beat of hesitation. “I’ll see you, uh…?”

“Around?” you finish, laughing slightly.

“Yeah,” he echoes with an amused half-smile as you make your way down the stairs. “Around.”

—

You’re freaking out.

It’s 4:31 on Monday afternoon, you’ve been listening to the same song on repeat for an hour, and you’re freaking the fuck out.

After Saturday night, you didn’t talk about it. You kissed him on the roof and your heart turned into a hummingbird and you were warm all over, and then the front door slammed and you nearly jumped out of your skin, and Megumi was back early and Takuma had no idea why, and you pet the dogs and then slipped out, wanting to give them their space.

And you haven’t talked about it. You haven’t had time. Sunday was a mess of cramming for midterms and your housemates returning from break and you threw yourself into your studies and tried not to remember, but now…

The stupid fucking switch in the back of your brain has flipped itself on and you can’t turn it off, all worry and criticism and hypothetical worst-case scenarios and you’re giving too much too fast, Skipper, you know better than this!

How many people in your tiny town fell in love young and grew to resent each other? How many of your high school friends grew up with divorced parents? How many breakups have you seen in your two and a half years at this university, how many tears and shouting matches in public halls, how many friend groups falling apart because two people fell in and out of love?

The thing is, you know you’re panicking about nothing. Takuma hasn’t asked anything of you. It was just a kiss. He is not your boyfriend. This is not a contract.

But if you talk about it, it could be, and you don’t understand why that scares you so much. Do you have commitment issues? What the fuck is your problem?

You probably wouldn’t have a problem at all, if you’d just had the time Saturday night to figure out what the kiss meant. But now that a whole day has passed and you haven’t seen him and you don’t know for sure, your mind keeps wandering down paths it should have stayed away from.

What if it’s a friends with benefits situation and you’ve just read too much into it? Maybe this is all he wants, making out, spending late nights together getting physical. Maybe that’s all. A heated makeout session on a roof doesn’t mean he feels the way you do. And do you even know how you feel? Fucking hell.

It’s the anxiety talking, the more logical part of you says, the part that sounds an awful lot like Maki. Your friends aren’t around to tell you how stupid you’re being, so the only texts you and Takuma have sent since Saturday night are playlists and song lyrics skirting around whatever truths you’re trying and failing to articulate.

Do I Wanna Know floats from the speaker on your desk, your phone next to your head on the bed, facedown and dormant. Do I wanna know if this feeling goes both ways?

Your door slams open and you jump up, whirling around to find Maki with her arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “Alright,” she says. “That’s the tenth time I’ve heard that godforsaken song. What the fuck is up with you?”

When you don’t respond, she steps inside and closes the door behind her, pauses the music, and then makes herself comfortable on the edge of your bed. “Talk to me,” she says. “You’re driving yourself crazy.” The words stall in your throat, useless, stagnant things as you avoid her knowing stare, instead staring at the popcorn ceiling until it blurs.

Maki sighs and shifts entirely onto the bed, turning herself to face you.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you say lamely.

“You’re driving me crazy, Skip,” she tries, and she knows you so fucking well, because the guilt trip is exactly what dislodges all those words built up in the back of your mouth—she breaks the dam and you spill your soul onto the quilted comforter, rambling, a rush of truths and things you thought you’d hidden from yourself but you can’t anymore. And she just listens, not looking away once.

You tell her everything: that you know you catch feelings fast, too fast. That despite your bleeding heart, you haven’t really been in a long-term relationship since high school. That you think of the future, of all the places you want to go, all the things you want to do, and there’s no guy in those dreams, and the thought of restructuring the life you’ve planned out for yourself around a boy who might be temporary is too much to even fathom. That—

“I kissed him,” you say breathlessly, bordering on hysterical, and you feel so stupid, this worked up over something so small, something that should be good. “I kissed him and now it feels real and now I’m freaking out.”

“I can see that,” Maki says calmly. “Let me ask you something. What is the worst thing that could happen, if you date him and it doesn’t last?”

“I…” You chew on your bottom lip, mind spinning through every bad outcome. “He could end up hating me, Maki. I could get some crazy job and have to leave, or he would come with me and leave his whole life behind and then he’d grow to resent me and we’d just be in some kind of hellish limbo until one of us snapped. Or he could—he could leave me, or we could try long distance and he could fall in love with somebody else, or I could, or—or—”

You flounder for a second, realizing your biggest worry is the one most immediate, the one most central to your life as it exists right now.

You’ve been sitting here thinking about big-picture things that are so far out, trying to make the feeling curdling in your gut feel like a valid reaction to a major life event. But that’s not what this is.

You’re just really, stupidly, pathetically scared that Takuma kissed you and didn’t mean it.

“Or—I guess that’s not the issue. Not really,” you admit quietly, not looking at Maki. She probably already knows. She has a way of knowing exactly what’s bothering you and just asking the right questions, getting you to talk yourself out of whatever hole your anxious mind has dug.

“I—it was just a kiss. What if he doesn’t want something serious right now, and I like him this way and he just wants something casual? I can’t do casual, Maki,” you say, raking a hand through your hair. “And it could fuck up this thing we have going. Yuji and Toge get along so well, and Nobara and the boys and Kirara, and Megumi’s your cousin, and I don’t wanna cause some weird, awkward rift, you know what I mean?”

Because it’s been so good, getting to know them. You don’t want to fuck up the dynamic just because you caught feelings too fast.

Maki leans back against your wall, humming as she thinks this over. “Okay. First of all, take a step back. Do you actually think you and Ino dating or not dating or whatever would mean I stop talking to my cousin? Or Nobara to the guys?” She raises a brow at you, unimpressed. “Seriously. I love you, Skipper, but you do not have that much power. These relationships existed before you knew Ino. Yuji is incapable of having conflict with anybody. And Toge doesn’t give a fuck about awkward relationship drama, he just wants to play Smash.”

As she speaks, you can feel your heart settling back into its home in your chest. Maki always knows what to say. Always.

“Second: Let me put it this way.” She levels you with a serious look. “You are so worked up about all these incredibly hypothetical situations. If you shut this down now, if you don’t act on what happened on Saturday, you’re still going to be worked up about hypotheticals. They’ll just be different ones. I know you, Skipper, you’re gonna drown yourself in what ifs. So you have to pick the lesser evil. There’s an unknown factor either way. Which one is gonna be worse?”

You groan, faceplanting into your bedspread. In the process, your forehead must hit play on your phone, because all of a sudden Arctic Monkeys blasts through the JBL again and Maki is grabbing your phone and saying, “Absolutely not. Nope. We are done with that.”

You look up at her helplessly. “Do I wanna know?” you choke out, half-laughing. “Because if I’m taking this out of proportion, if he doesn’t feel this way and I’m just another girl he kissed—”

“You’re not,” she says firmly. “Are you kidding me? Skip. That boy kisses the ground you walk on.” She shakes her head, some mix of fondness of exasperation flashing across her face. “You already know. The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.”

Your door slams open, and Nobara strolls in and puts her hands on her hips. She glares at Maki and then at you.

“Please tell me I’m wrong,” she says, and you know you’re in for it, “but I believe you both had significant relationship developments this weekend and didn’t immediately call me? What the fuck? Spill.”

Abruptly, you feel like the worst friend in the world. Not necessarily because you haven’t filled Nobara in—she hasn’t been home—but because Maki is flushing pink, and you left her alone with Yuta on purpose, and it’s Monday, and you haven’t even asked what happened.

You look at Nobara. “Close the door.”

She does, but she doesn’t sit down, choosing instead to pace the room as she speaks. “Exhibit A: the plants have name tags and the handwriting is not Yuta’s. Exhibit B: I just came from down the street and Ino is acting weird as fuck.”

You sit straight up, suddenly on high alert. “Weird how? Did he say anything?”

“No. Like, the entire time. That’s the weird as fuck part.”

You turn to Maki, trying to read her. “Okay, what happened with Yuta? Was it when I left? Because if I wasn’t obvious enough—“

“You were very obvious, thank you,” Maki says, her blush deepening. “Uh, we made dinner. As you know.”

“It was good.”

Maki is pointedly looking everywhere but at you and Nobara, gaze darting from the ceiling to the bedspread to the door, as if she might escape the conversation. You hadn’t even noticed the plant name tags. That’s maybe the most sappy gesture that’s ever come from Maki Zenin.

“Mm. Yeah. Uh,” she says, eloquently. “We might have kissed. We might be… together.”

“Maki!” you and Nobara both scream, which results in Toge nearly breaking down your bedroom door five seconds later.

“What?” he demands. He clocks Maki’s bright red face and grins widely. “Aha! Yes. Good.”

“Wh—”

“Yuta won’t look me in the eyes, so I figured. You wanted to tell us all at once?”

Maki nods sheepishly.

“Too late!” Toge says cheerfully. “And he’s not home. So we can take this quality girls’ time to—”

“You are a man.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me,” Toge tells Nobara, hand over his heart.

She swats at him in response and flops onto your floor, and Toge drops down beside her, you and Maki leaning over the edge of your bed to see them both.

"I ate your love pasta," you tell Maki, and she groans.

"This is why I don't tell you people things."

After the appropriate appoint of freaking out about Maki and Yuta (of course I knew, I always know, Nobara says), they make you go through the whole of Saturday night in detail.

You leave out the part about Takuma’s dad. That doesn’t feel like your story to tell.

When you get to I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Nobara blinks at you, and the innocent expression on her face means whatever she’s about to say is anything but. “So he told you you’re not like other girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

“Oh, shit, Skipper!” Toge nearly shouts from the floor. “We have to go, like, two minutes ago.”

“Shit!” You scramble off the bed, shoving your laptop into your bag and weaving around Nobara, who has made no move to get off the floor. You and Toge have your usual Monday night class time to do field reporting, and you’re meeting up with Geto and Utahime.

The front door clicks open and closed, and you grin at Maki, who goes red. Yuta’s home. God, you wish you could stay for this.

“Hi, Yuta! Bye, Yuta!” you call on the way out the door, patting him on the head, and Toge follows suit with a much more aggressive motion that messes up Yuta’s hair.

“Oh, hi! Um. Bye?” Yuta’s startled laugh follows you out the door, and then you’re on your way.

You’re always on your way back to The Fix, eventually.

—

Utahime, notably a happier person in general when Gojo’s not around, lets Toge into the back to get some photos of the storeroom. That leaves you alone with Geto, back on the same stool as last time, phone on the counter as you watch him work, talking as he goes.

“Finished inventory,” he says, typing something rapidly on his laptop, “and now it’s budgeting. And yeah, that’s about what it looks like on the day to day. What else did you want to know?”

Geto is remarkably easy to talk to. He’s soft-spoken and articulate, a good listener, and you find yourself forgetting it’s an interview after a while, lost in conversation. You learn that he studied business in school, so opening an establishment like this wasn’t much of a stretch. He handles the finances and hiring, and he’s the one working with Panda on the Battle of the Bands. Gojo and Utahime bartend, Nanami is security, and Shoko handles everything else. It’s a small team, he says, but they work.

“I wanted to be able to be home for the girls when they were growing up, and this wound up being a great way to do that, schedule-wise,” he tells you. “And now they’re here, which is great. I wouldn’t say I ever saw myself opening a bar, back in college, but now that I’m here and Shoko and I have been running the place for a while, I’m not sure where else I ever could’ve ended up, y’know?”

You nod, head propped in your hand with your elbow on the counter. “So is this the dream? The endgame?” you ask. “Think you’ll stay a while?”

“Well,” he says, closing the laptop, “I think it comes down to doing something because you love it, not because other people love that you do it. Though right now, both of those things are true, which is fortunate for me." He leans on the bar counter, head tilted as he considers his words.

"If the work makes you happy, if the people there make you feel the same way, I think that’s worth hanging on to," he says. "If I ever stop loving the work, I suppose I’ll move on. I don’t see that happening, really, but if it does, I’ll roll with it. Whatever comes after.”

“That makes sense.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Man, I wish the career thing was that clear-cut now. I know I have time, but it’s weird to think about.”

“Would you ever go further than this with the band, you think?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. “Or is the journalism thing pretty much what your heart’s set on?”

You’ve thought about it. Drumming makes you feel alive like very few other things do, but you love writing, reporting, meeting people and telling their stories. You want to go for editor-in-chief next year when Tsumiki graduates, but the reality is that you won’t have so much time for the band if you get the job. And you love your band.

Not that it’ll be the same, anyway, without Maki and Yuta. That’s something you don’t love to think about.

“I don’t know,” you confess, sheepishly realizing you’re still recording, that you’re supposed to be the one asking the questions. “I don’t think… that the band is ever necessarily going to be a professional thing. Maki and Yuta have all these big career plans. And it’s like, how much do I invest in that now, knowing it’s not… forever? When the journalism thing, the career, might be? I don’t know.”

“You know, I don’t think it matters all that much whether it’s forever,” Geto shrugs. “If it gave you what you needed at the time, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

He glances up at you, taking in the lines of your face, the tapping of your fingers against your other arm. You kind of feel like he sees something you don’t.

“Here’s some unsolicited advice, kid. On the record. Maybe life is short, maybe not. But regardless, your heart is not a finite thing.” His eyes are soft but not sad, serious but with a sort of levity that’s wise and not regretful. You think, idly, that you would find it very hard not to trust him. “If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.”

Something tells you he’s not talking about the band anymore. Or maybe that’s just you, looking for answers where there aren’t any.

“Thanks, Geto,” you say, turning off the recording. “This has been really helpful.”

Your heart is not a finite thing. And you think you’ve made up your mind.

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jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222

a/n: what is this? setup for the megumi spinoff i'm writing after this? oo (sorry he was a cockblock it was for the plot, this one AND his, hehe)

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rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year ago

Note

Nami vs Whitebeard for the child. That’s all I can think of now after reading the new Little Lucky Au upload 👀😭

This was supposed to be cute/funny, but then I got carried away and made it crucial to the plot of the Little Lucky AU. Oops. This takes place sometime after Marineford but before the timeskip.

Also Thatch is alive and well here because I said so and as a fanfic writer it is my right to engage in a little bit of friendly necromancy when I see fit.

Decisions Made

4.1k words

Nami didn’t like this one bit. She hated it, really, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. She was on a ship sitting across the strongest man in the world and had to play nice lest she makes you upset.

As much as she was glad that Luffy had been able to successfully save his brother, she was not happy about Ace using this as an opportunity to finally succeed in bringing you over to his family. It had been a couple of days since the Marineford incident, and as soon as both crews had the chance to recover from the brutal battle, Ace had apparently set out to track them down.

Luffy was quick to agree to Ace’s proposal to pay Whitebeard’s crew a visit, promising that there would be a party to celebrate the successful rescue mission. Nami knew better though, she knew that this was much more about getting you on board the Moby Dick than the celebration. There was nothing she could do about it, though. Luffy had already decided on it, and you were so excited to meet Ace’s brothers that there was no stopping it.

The party itself was about as lively as one would expect it to be with a crew so large, it had been a struggle to keep track of where you were at any given moment. It felt like you were being swept away by a different crew member every other second, and Luffy telling her not to worry about it was not helping.

The feast they’d hosted wasn’t too bad. Well, the food was spectacular, but the relieving part was that you were easy to keep track of during it. You’d made yourself comfortable on Ace’s lap the second he sat down, and he did not give any of his brother’s a chance to “get a turn”. Nami would have preferred you to be seated with them, but she could at least settle for this since you were only a few meters away at best.

Currently, she was seated across the deck from where Whitebeard’s massive throne was. While the others were at least trying to make small talk with the emperor, she was quietly watching you to make sure nothing funny happened.

Humorously, the “person” you’d been most excited to meet was Kotatsu, some large wild cat that was a part of Ace’s crew before it disbanded. The second Ace realized that your love for cats extended beyond your pet Magnolia, he was quick to tell you all about Kotatsu to try and entice you to come with him for a visit. His plan worked on you flawlessly, but fortunately her and Sanji were able to stop him before he snuck off with you.

While she had been a little concerned about Kotatsu lashing out at you after seeing how scary he looked, your seemingly endless cat charm worked on him just as well as it did on every other feline you’d come across. The overgrown lynx was happily purring up a storm on your lap while you lavished him with attention.

Magnolia has not been taking her loss of attention very well and was sat at Nami’s feet glaring at Kotatsu like she was planning to eat him. Her tail was whipping back and forth in irritation, and her claws were digging into the floorboards.

She was grateful that the cat was keeping you in place at least, every single one of Ace’s brothers have been trying to entice you away from him, but the efforts were all in vain. You were in kitty heaven and you weren’t about to move from it. If nothing else, it was funny to see these people getting snubbed by you in favor of a cat.

A door opened, and Nami recognized the ship’s head chef making a beeline for you. Thatch had been trying his hardest to bond with you, and both of his hands were full with his latest effort.

Thatch dropped a food bowl on the ground, piled with whole fish for Kotatsu. He immediately perked up and sniffed the air. There was a brief pause before he got up to go dig in to the food he was offered. You pouted at being abandoned by your newest cat friend, but Thatch was quick to take the opportunity presented to him.

“Hey there, Lucky!” He ruffled your hair with his free hand, “I thought you might want some dessert.” The chef lowered his other hand, revealing a small plate with cookies stacked onto it.

Your eyes lit up and you smiled widely, eagerly taking the plate from him, “These look yummy! Thank you, Uncle Thatch!”

The second this crew heard you refer to Ace as “Uncle Ace”, everyone else had insisted that they were now also your uncles. Ace agreed, and since you hung onto every word out of his mouth, that meant you agreed too. This fact made Nami huff. These people were weird.

Thatch grinned triumphantly and smartly scooped you up into his arms before Kotatsu could come back and curl up on you again. There wasn’t a single protest out of you, seeing as that you were happily munching on cookies.

Nami could hear Sanji grumbling next to her, followed by the sound of his lighter flicking on. Again. He’s been chain smoking like mad since they got on board.

The door he had come out of before opened again, this time with Ace and Marco exiting. So that’s where Ace had gone. Nami was suspicious when he abruptly vanished a while ago, and that feeling only doubled when she saw how serious their faces were. Just what were they talking about?

They diverged paths, with Marco leisurely making his way to Whitebeard, while Ace bounded over to you and Thatch. A smile had been plastered over his face now, showing no hint of whatever conversation he’d had with Marco mere minutes ago. He tried to take you from Thatch’s arms, but the chef used his height to his advantage and kept you out of reach.

“Come on, I haven’t seen my niece in forever!” Ace pleaded.

“It hasn’t even been an hour, quit whining. We all want a chance to see our niece,” Thatch replied smugly. His cockiness was only aided by the fact that you were giggling at the game of keep away that you were being used in.

Nami glanced back at Whitebeard and saw him and Marco having a hushed conversation. Both of their expressions were unreadable, and whatever Marco was saying was so quiet that Nami couldn’t make it out. She felt uneasy. Something about their exchange felt off, even if she couldn’t pinpoint it. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to leave right now, but Luffy wouldn’t allow it.

She hadn’t missed the disapproving look Marco had the first time he’d seen Lucky. While your injuries had healed since their horrible run-in with Enel, you were severely scarred from it. Mentally and physically. Sanji had been trying out every scar removing ointment that he could find on you, but the scars were still extremely visible.

Everyone was prone to getting defensive over people judging them for your previous injuries. They felt awful enough without having other people rubbing it in their face.

It was inevitable that Ace was going to question what happened, she knew that the second she spotted his boat speeding towards theirs. The literal second he’d made eye contact, his smile fell and he was looking at the rest of them and asking what happened to his niece while scooping you into his arms protectively. Luffy, being the honest loud mouth that he is, told him everything. Ace didn’t take it well, but he tried to keep it together for your sake.

Marco finished whatever it was that he had to say and hopped down, strolling over to where you were being held in the air. Ace was still trying to get you back, becoming increasingly offended by your lack of cooperation.

Since Thatch was entirely focused on Ace, he didn’t even notice Marco approaching until he’d managed to snatch you out of his hands.

Before either of them could protest this, Marco cut in, “Are you planning on hogging her all day? Pops hasn’t even been able to properly meet the kid yet.” This was true, you’d barely been able to say ‘hi’ to the giant man before being whisked away by Ace for introductions to his brothers.

Thatch protested, complaining that he finally got to hold you, but Marco just rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going anywhere, you can spend more time with her later.” Marco readjusted his hold on you, and flashed a warm smile, “You want to go meet pops? He’s been waiting to talk to you.”

You bit your lip and mindlessly tugged on his open shirt, “Um… I guess?”

Whitebeard was an extremely intimidating man, Nami wasn’t surprised that you were nervous about him. You’ve been around giants before, but none of them sported that stern expression that Whitebeard had 95% of the time. That, and she thinks that all of the tubes and medical equipment coming out of him was making you unsure. You’d never seen someone in such a state, so you didn’t seem to know what to make of it.

With every step towards the captain, you stared at him while he stared back. Finally, it dawned on Whitebeard that he may have been intimidating you, and his face softened into a small smile, “It’s nice to finally get a good look at you, my child! I was starting to think I wasn’t going to.”

Your shoulders relaxed slightly and you offered a smile back in exchange. You broke eye contact, tiny hands clinging onto Marco’s shirt as you shyly spoke, “It’s nice to meet you too, mister.”

The other crew members chuckled at your shyness, making you hold onto Marco tighter. This action made him smile and pat your back reassuringly. Once he’d made it to where Whitebeard was seated, the towering captain held out one of his hands. Marco deposited you into it, and despite it only being his hand, you were completely dwarfed by the size.

You looked up at him warily, but still clung onto his thumb to keep from tumbling off his hand. Nami felt anxious at seeing you held so high off the ground, but knew that voicing this concern would do nothing. She would get laughed at and told to stop worrying so much by the crew. And also Luffy.

“So you’re the niece I’ve heard so much about?” Whitebeard had brought you up to chest height, trying to get a good look at you. All he got in response was you shifting back and forth on his hand before letting out a little ‘mmhm’. Whitebeard laughed loudly, the sound was booming, much like his devil fruit ability, “Ace hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got on board, but he never said anything about you being this shy!”

“I’m not that shy, mister” you huffed.

He chuckled, “Quit being so formal, kid. You can call me pops, too.”

Your head cocked to the side and your nose scrunched up. “Pops? But you’re way too old to be my dad,” you deadpanned.

A hush fell over the crowd on deck, but only briefly. Then there was an uproar of laughter, including from Whitebeard himself.

You immediately got defensive, “What? You are!” This didn’t help at all, people were only laughing harder. Even some of the Straw Hats were cracking up. Seeing you go from being all shy to straight up calling him super old was pretty funny.

Visibly flustered, you tried to make a compromise in hopes of getting everyone to stop laughing at you, “H-How about I call you grandpa?”

Whitebeard froze at your proposal, it was obvious that he hadn’t been expecting to hear that. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. A small, soft smile graced his features, “Sure. You can call me that if you want.” His attempt to put on a sterner voice wasn’t fooling anybody, everyone knew that just melted his heart.

“Okay, grandpa!” You smiled triumphantly.

“Can’t say I’ve been called that before. I guess even an old man like me can still have some firsts,” he mused.

“How have you never been called ‘grandpa’ before? You’re super old,” Luffy just had to interrupt the moment.

“Watch it, you brat.”

“Watch what?”

Whitebeard’s eye twitched and he exhaled sharply. He likely would have continued a back and forth with Luffy if you hadn’t started giggling about it. That ever so slight softening around his eyes showed again. For someone who was supposed to be the strongest man in the world, he sure was a softy.

You leaned back in his hand to look up at him, “Hey, grandpas are supposed to have lots of stories, right? Can you tell me some, please?” Your eyes were sparkling with hope at the prospect of hearing some fun tales of adventure.

He hummed in thought, “I suppose I’ve got a few, if you really want to hear stories from an old man like me.”

“Yes, I do!” You nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

Usopp was muttering next to Nami, offended that you were asking for stories from someone other than him. Nami slumped back in her seat as Whitebeard started one of his tales, looks like she was going to be there for a while yet. There was no telling how long this was going to go on for.

—

Nami jolted awake abruptly. Shit, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that! Sitting up right, she massaged her stiff neck and noted how the sky had gone from a pale blue to a warm orange. How long was she out for?!

Looking over to where she last saw you, she felt momentary relief at seeing you still there. You were curled up in Whitebeard’s hand, sound asleep. Whatever relief she had was quickly replaced with annoyance as she witnessed him lowering his hand and allowing Ace to pick you up.

Launching herself forward, she strode towards him, “Oh, look at that! She’s asleep, so that’s our cue to leave. Give her to me so I can tuck her into her bed.” She looked over her shoulder to the other Straw Hats, who were also taking an impromptu nap, “Everyone up! We’re leaving.”

Ace didn’t respond to her demand to hand you over. He just held you to his chest tighter and shot her a downright guilty look before speedwalking to where the personal cabins were. Magnolia sped after you two, meowing loudly at Ace.

Nami’s brow furrowed in agitation. What the hell did he think he was doing? “Hey! Get back here!”

“Sit down, Nami,” Whitebeard’s voice cut through the air. His tone was so strict that it actually made her pause.

She shook her head, “Don’t tell me what to do! It’s late, we need to get Lucky to bed.” A door opened and closed, and just like that, Ace and you were out of sight. It seems even Magnolia had gone inside. She cursed under her breath and stomped to the door, bound and determined to get you back.

“I said to sit down!” Whitebeard boomed. “We need to talk.”

There was an overwhelming weight on what felt like her very being that knocked the wind out of her. She stumbled, and as much as she wanted to curse at him, she couldn’t find the will to do so. Despite not at all wanting to, she retreated back to where her chair was. Nami’s willpower was no match for haki, much to her chagrin.

Now everyone was awake and very on edge from whatever it was that Whitebeard was about to say. It was only now that she noticed Marco perched on top of the throne. His face was perfectly neutral, not aiding at all in revealing what this talk was going to be about.

Sanji was visibly seething. He hated being away from his little princess, so Ace up and running away with you was not going over well with him, “What? What do you want to talk about so damn bad?”

“Lucky is going to be staying with us from now on.”

The deck was dead silent, it was as if even the waves had stopped.

“Who do you think you are?! You can’t decide that!” Sanji was out of his seat and stormed right at the captain.

Whitebeard didn’t even flinch, looking annoyed more than anything, “I can and I have. This is for her own good. If you all genuinely care about her well being then you will accept this.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?” Nami hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! This doesn’t make any sense, let me go get Ace!” Luffy, ever the optimist, assumed this must be a misunderstanding. He got up to go fetch his brother, but stopped dead in his tracks by what was said next.

“What are you hoping to accomplish with that? This was his idea,” Marco drawled.

“I knew it! I knew he was up to something!” Nami had never been more upset to be right about something.

When they were still making their way to the Moby Dick, Ace had abruptly hopped off their ship and onto his own boat. His reason for doing so was to let the crew know that they were coming, which Nami thought was bullshit. The Thousand Sunny was a massive ship, they could absolutely see them well before they got there. There was no need for Ace to go out ahead of them unless he wanted to speak with his crewmates privately. Which apparently, he did.

Luffy snapped out of his frozen state and made a run for the door, “No, he wouldn’t do that!”

Whitebeard grabbed his naginata and flung it outward, blocking Luffy’s path, “We’re not done talking yet, stay here.”

Luffy held his gaze for a solid minute, the tension in the air had everyone on edge. Begrudgingly, Luffy made his way back to where the rest of his crew was and stood with them, arms crossed. He spoke through gritted teeth, “Why?”

“I didn’t make this decision to be cruel. I decided on this because I want that kid to live a long life, and she won’t get to have one in your care,” Whitebeard stated coldly.

“You don’t know that! We’ve taken care of her for this long and we will keep doing so!” Robin protested. Her voice was wavering, choked in emotion.

“Have you? Were you really taking care of her when she was kidnapped and almost killed in Skypeia?” The words were harsh and painful to hear. Everyone was stammering for a response to that.

“That… That was a horrible mistake that will never happen again,” Robin’s voice was meek, guilt heavy in each word.

“Oh? So she wasn’t kidnapped again not long after that?”

Robin flinched at the accusing tone and curled in on herself. Franky reached over to place a supportive hand on her back and glared at Whitebeard, “That’s low.”

Nami’s face felt hot with shame. It was true that they had utterly failed you when Enel took you away. The awful state you were in when Luffy had finally gotten there and saved you would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life.

It was also true that you had been kidnapped again in Water 7, but how was she supposed to know that the shipwright that had gone to perform an assessment of their ship was going to make off like a bandit with you. Or that Zoro would fucking sleep through it. Sanji still hasn’t forgiven him for that.

At least you hadn’t been harmed that time around. A shock in hindsight considering what kind of a person that Kaku turned out to be.

If Whitebeard had any sympathy for them, he wasn’t showing it in the slightest. He openly sneered at them, “I don’t care if it’s “low”, you need to hear it. If you couldn’t keep her safe in the Grand Line, do you really think you’re going to be able to do so in the New World? You won’t. You’re all too young, too inexperienced. Just keeping your crew alive in the New World is a feat, keeping a small child alive is a completely different story. If I leave her with you lot, she will die.”

“You can’t just take her away like this! That’s our kid dammit!” Sanji looked like he was ready to go on a rampage, even if it killed him.

“You’re welcome to try and get her back. Though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Marco said coolly. His posture was relaxed, but the look in his eyes was anything but. His head gestured to the side, calling attention to several of Whitebeard’s commanders lurking around on the deck.

Jozu was as hard to miss as he was intimidating, Izou was cleaning one of his guns while fixing them with an unimpressed look, and Thatch was the only one that appeared to feel at least a little bad for them. Several others were milling about too, not directly interacting, but the threat was clear.

Don’t even try it.

“What if we became stronger?”

“What?” Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed at Luffy’s question.

“What if we became strong enough to protect her from anything?!” Luffy’s voice rose in volume.

“You can’t be serious, Luffy! Are you actually going to entertain this idea?!” Sanji turned on him in an instant, appalled that his captain seems to be considering it.

Luffy’s knuckles were white, his fists were clenched so tight that his fingernails were cutting into his palms and starting to drip blood onto the floorboards. He didn’t bother responding to Sanji, instead choosing to press Whitebeard for an answer to his question, “Well?!”

Whitebeard grinned, then chuckled, then started full on laughing. Luffy only continued to scowl at him, wanting to hear an answer already.

“You really think that you can accomplish that? You’re a cocky little brat, aren’t you?” Whitebeard chuckled again and rested his chin on his fist. He thought for a moment, then finally gave a proper answer, “Sure. If you can become so strong that you can actually protect the kid from anything then we’ll give her back.”

“Fine.” Luffy pulled his hat down over his eyes and turned away from the emperor. Without even looking at his crew, he spoke again, “Let’s go. We have a lot of work to do.”

“What are you saying?! We can’t just leave her here!” Sanji was borderline hysteric now.

“Will Lucky be safe in your care?” Luffy asked.

“She’ll be the safest kid in the world. Promise,” Marco assured him.

Luffy nodded, “Okay. We’ll be back for her. We’re leaving now, captain’s orders.”

Sanji tried to protest again, but Zoro clamped a hand onto his shoulder, “Stop. If Luffy says we need to leave, then we have to whether you like it or not.” Zoro’s other hand was closed around the hilt of one of his swords. His hand was shaking and his face was pinched, his eyes were strictly fixed onto the ground.

The cook slapped his hand away, chest heaving in fury. There was a pause, but he ultimately went towards the Thousand Sunny, not saying a word to anyone else while digging out a cigarette.

Everyone else was still in disbelief over what happened, but slowly began to make their way to their ship. The Whitebeard Pirates didn’t say anything else, letting them leave in silence. They all felt numb.

As soon as they were on the ship, Chopper ran to Robin for comfort with tears pouring down his face. She knelt down to comfort him, but it was evident from the vacant look in her eyes that she wasn’t fairing much better than he was.

Nami cornered Luffy, “What was that all about?! How could you just up and agree with him?!”

“He was right. We need to get stronger,” Luffy stated.

How could he be so calm about this?! Nami shoved his shoulder, screaming at him, “How do you even know that he’s going to keep his word about giving her back?!”

“I don’t. But we’re going to become so strong that it won’t matter if he does.” With that, Luffy left to go sit on the figurehead of the ship, needing time to think. To plot. Their going to need a damn good course of action to accomplish what they need to.

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gabessquishytum · 7 months ago

Note

Reclusive writer Dream has always liked swimming in the ocean near his home.

One day however as he is walking along the beach, he sees a bit of a commotion—what looks at first like a game of tag or chase.

As he gets closer he sees what it is.

A couple of teenagers are playing keep away, laughing and throwing something back and forth while a third tries to get it away from them.

One of them catches the third, and holds him, and the other dangles the brown thing—is that fabric?—in front of him.

As dream gets nearer he realizes it isn’t a game. The third, still held fast, turns to Dream with huge, teary brown eyes. He’s spitting mad but scared too.

Dream snatches the brown fur from one of the kids and tells them off. They go running off down the beach, one of them snapping that it isn’t fair, that they found him first.

And Dream turns to the young man who is left. He looks around 17 or 18. He’s beautiful, his skin sun-kissed and warm, and his gaze is fixed on the fur in Dream’s hands.

Dream finally looks down at what he’s holding.

It’s a selkie’s skin.

Rumor has it, keeping a selkie’s skin means the selkie is bound to you. Destroying it makes it yours forever.

“Give it back,” the selkie bursts out and Dream immediately hands it over. In a flash, the boy darts into the waves, vanishing under them.

Dream assumes that’ll be the last of it, but the next time he brings his writing to the beach, there’s a solitary figure in the waves again.

Soon he knows his name, hob. Soon, hob’s always hanging around, swimming with Dream, listening to him read his stories and following Dream’s every move with a fetching, bashful blush on his cheeks.

Despite himself, Dream thinks of him all the time. He imagines bringing hob home to his seaside cottage and showing him the human things that fascinate him. Hot water. Bread. Fire. He imagines spreading hob out in his bed and tasting him, hearing him beg for more. And he hasn’t forgotten how soft and lovely his skin was…

This is such a lovely au, I am so so fond of selkie Hob!!! All soft and brown and velvety. Warm and a little plump to keep him a safe in the sea. No wonder Dream can't stop thinking about him...

Hob is endlessly curious about the human world. He's grown wary of adopting his human form and leaving his skin out on the beach, since that previous incident - but he'll gladly sit on the sand with Dream, holding the skin in his lap and asking a hundred questions. Dream tries to answer all of them and brings all kinds of small gifts for his friend. Hob begins to trust him totally, and even allows Dream to touch his skin briefly for a second time. In turn, Hob teaches Dream to dive deeper, to hold his breath for longer, and to swim faster. Hob still swims rings around him though. He does have flippers.

One day Hob tells Dream that he'll have to consider marriage soon, as he has now come of age. It's then that Dream realises - he wants to marry Hob. It even occurs to him that he could steal his friend's skin and entrap him into marriage. But he knows that he would hate himself, even if having Hob forever might be worth it... the sensible thing to do is offer marriage properly, and see what Hob thinks of the plan.

Fortunately Hob was literally hinting that he wanted Dream to propose marriage the whole time, so he's pretty receptive to the idea. Receptive enough to let Dream push him back into the sand dunes and kiss him breathless.

All of the locals who see Dream’s new young husband are going to gossip like crazy. Hob is a little odd, but sweet, and utterly devoted to his husband. No one can imagine where Dream picked up such a pretty little treasure.

And in their little cottage, Hob’s skin lays in pride of place across their marriage bed, freely available for Hob to take should he wish. It's also available for Dream to stroke and caress. He'll never get over how soft it feels... nor will he get over good it is to caress Hob. Hob loves all the human things that Dream shows him, but the best thing of all is the way Dream fucks him and makes him cum over and over and over. He's a very spoiled and contented selkie-husband indeed.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw monsterfucking

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charles-leclerc-official · 7 months ago

Text

2024 Monaco Grand Prix Analysis

At the beginning of this season Charles said that his was a dream that writes itself in red, well this weekend that dream wrote itself in red and white on the streets of Monaco.

In these analyses I like to break down a race, share numbers, graphs, really dig into the technical elements of the sport. But I write these analyses to get my thoughts down about the sport I love.

This is going to be a lot more, let’s say, emotional than my usual style of analysis. Because analysis does go beyond just the numbers, it’s about the people behind the wheel, it’s about understanding the story of a race, and this race has a particularly special story.

Because for the first time in Formula One history Charles Leclerc won the Monaco Grand Prix.

Table of Contents Race Overview Ferrari - Charles: win, qualifying, data, strategy - Carlos: strategy - Data Analysis Mclaren - Oscar - Lando - Data Analysis Red Bull - Max: qualifying - Sergio: qualifying, crash - Data Analysis Haas Alpine Mercedes Williams Final Thoughts

Race Overview

So, there were other cars on the track this race, and they did in fact do things, so as much as I’d like to write only about Charles, I still have to talk about the race as a whole, because this race was revealing on the data side of things.

Before we get to Charles’ story this race, let’s set the stage.

This race really had two key components. The first being qualifying, it’s always crucial in Monaco, and that was no different this year. This race was largely decided in qualifying and we will look at the data there to see where it was won and lost. And second the red flag allowing teams to fulfill their mandatory pitstop after lap 1, which made this a race of tyre management and pace calculations. Teams put on hards, planning on them lasting the remaining 77 laps, because strategically not pitting and thus not risking losing track position was strategically optimal for everyone in the points.

There were really three races all happening simultaneously. The race at the front that involved Charles, Oscar, Carlos and Lando. The race in the middle involving George, Lewis and Max. And the race behind Yuki, involving the rest of the field. The timing gaps put these drivers all on different strategies, different pace management, with different goals.

While it may not have produced the most thrilling racing on track, there were a lot of moving parts to this race and a lot of skill was shown from all of the top drivers to get their results both in qualifying and in the race.

First Lap

On the first lap of the race there were 3 separate incidents. And these are all key to the rest of the race.

Kevin hit Checo resulting in a massive crash that took out his teammate Nico as well. This brought out the red flag and required a standing restart of the race. Fortunately all drivers walked away with no major injuries.

Carlos tried to pass Oscar, and in doing so they made slight contact, a bit of the carbon from Oscar's car caused one of Carlos’ tyres to puncture. It appeared as though his race was over, but because this puncture happened after the aforementioned red flag, he was able to keep his position in P3 on the race restart.

Esteban and Pierre had a collision, when Esteban tried to make a very dangerous pass on Pierre going into the tunnel. This was 100% his fault and resulted in him retiring from the race.

Fortunately with all of these incidents no drivers were injured. Checo, Nico, Kevin, and Esteban all retired from the race.

Finally note that Monaco is a very unique track and can produce outlier results. Teams that got good results here may continue to struggle on other tracks, and conversely teams that struggled here will likely fare better on other tracks. Teams that have been strong and were strong here are just continuing a pattern of strong performances from their car and drivers. However there are some things that this track can and did reveal about certain cars, that will carry through to future races.

With all that said, let’s get to the only real race that mattered this weekend. That being Charles in his scarlet SF-24.

Ferrari

Charles

Are curses real? That may seem a strange thing to ask in a race analysis, but for the past 6 years curses sure felt real. From a failing car, to a failing team strategy Charles’ luck in Monaco became infamous to us all, and at a certain point bad luck starts to feel like a curse.

Curses aren’t real.

And if they are, then they are made to be broken.

It started with a red car racing on the streets of Monaco, and a boy watching that red car. It has continued with that same boy, now a man, racing in that red car, winning the streets he’s always called home.

So let’s look at how exactly Charles won this race.

Charles is the first Monegasque driver in Formula One history to win in Monaco. Louis Chiron was the only other Monegasque driver to win this home race in 1931, before Formula One was officially established. It’s a small country, and the chances one of their own would even make it to Formula One, let alone bring home the win were slim. Charles does like beating the odds. So this isn’t just a meaningful win to one man, it’s special for an entire country, and will now be entered into their history books.

To say this was a meaningful win would be an understatement. Because this track is one of the crown jewels of Formula One, conquering it is putting your name alongside the greats. Conquering it as your home race is to make history.

Monaco

I have seen a lot of people not understanding Monaco as a track. And to really put anyone's drive this weekend into proper context, understanding this track is essential.

Put simply, Monaco is the most technical track on the F1 calendar. With tight corners, big speed changes, and the narrowest margins for error this track is one where a driver's skill can really shine. To drive it well is challenging, and it often sorts out the strongest driver between two teammates. This is why qualifying is so exciting, seeing drivers run on a razor's edge trying to get that perfect lap. The reason driver's love this track is because it allows them to really prove their skill to themselves and to their team.

It is also a track that involves unique race strategy.

The main component is that this is the most unforgiving track in the entire calendar. One move that is slightly too far off and you've hit the wall.

To put in a good lap and a good race around Monaco is a testament of a driver's skill. I am impressed with every driver who is able to pull this track off, and do it without error.

Qualifying

Monaco is a race that is usually decided in qualifying. And that is partially true. To win the Monaco grand prix you must put together a flying lap around one of the most challenging tracks in Formula 1, a track that offers next to no margin for error, and then you must complete 78 more laps around this technically demanding track, all without significant error, without losing focus, without letting what few opportunities for overtaking there are be your downfall.

Starting on pole in Monaco is crucial to having a chance at winning the race. The field this year is closer than it’s been in the last few years. This year Charles’ pole lap most certainly poised him to win the race.

Here is Charles’ pole lap from qualifying compared to Oscar who qualified P2. And this lap really was a lap of just superior speed and skill on Charles’ part. The little details mattered and that was where Charles brought out the extra pace, putting together a truly masterful pole lap.

There are quite a few details that set Charles’ lap apart from Oscars’.

Taking those corners at a higher speed, in a higher gear, using that early braking to be able to exit the sector three turns with more speed are what made the difference. It all really did just come together. The reason he could operate in a higher gear was because of his excellent application of the brake and the throttle with millisecond accuracy, as well as the SF-24 being solid on this track in terms of the grip and overall settings.

Oscar lost pace in areas where these little details that come with experience and skill to get those additional tenths matter.

Charles was ahead in all sectors. There were a few points where Oscar had the edge, but those were very brief. The gap between them really came down to skill on key areas of the track. We know the Mclaren has good top speeds, so it isn’t an issue in that area.

I think the real story of where exactly the difference between these two laps came is in the throttle and brake application.

Charles has a signature early braking, followed by a slight jump in throttle application. This allows him to lose less speed in those turns and leverage more control of his grip and exit speed. Rather than braking once for longer, in a few places we see him hit the brake several times quickly, again followed by a short burst of throttle. This is a point of fine control on those turns and allows for a more refined racing line.

Also because of this he was able to stay in higher gears earlier or for longer. Not only that, his gear management was smoother. Rather than jumping from 3rd gear to 5th like Oscar did on the straight going into turn 12, Charles increased to 4th then 5th, and this actually does give a little more control in terms of grip on the straight as well as the turn.

A lot of the differences we saw in their laps came down to these little details, where Charles' approach to the entire lap was just more refined and that put him consistently ahead and is the reason he was able to put this all together in a single lap.

Simply put this was a near perfectly refined lap. Pure speed does not put together a fast lap in Monaco, skill does, and Charles was on it in that department this weekend.

Oscar did put together a good lap as well, do not get me wrong, but it was clearly not as refined as Charles’ and that’s why he qualified P2.

The thing about qualifying at the front was that Charles was not ahead by a fine margin, it wasn’t by a few hundredths, or even just a tenth. It was by a little over 1.5 tenths(0.154s). And compared to the gaps the rest of the top of the field had to each other this lap was impressive, especially with how competitive Mclaren were. The next 6 cars behind Charles all had less than 1 tenth separating them from the car behind(ex Oscar was less than a tenth ahead of Carlos, who was less then a tenth ahead of Lando and so on)

The Race

Qualifying ahead is half of the equation, the other half is managing the following 78 laps with no errors. This race was interesting because it was a battle of pace control and tyre management.

Let’s look at the Charles' race pace graph. No one was driving for fast pace, so this isn’t quite like a lot of previous races we’ve looked at. Those first 10 laps they were feeling each other out, after that it was determined by whatever pace Charles set. And the final ten laps revealed just how well they had managed their tyres.

And as I have been saying all year, if it comes down to a tyre management contest, Charles will win. No one in the top 5 has been better in terms of tyre management all season. And once again Charles gave us another stellar performance in tyre management. This was really clear in those final laps when he was able to push for speed, and Oscar(who tried) wasn’t able to. Oscar managed his tyres well, but he didn’t have enough left to be able to really push for faster laps in the end compared to Charles. I will say I think by the final 3 or so laps Oscar stopped trying to push. Same goes for Charles. At that point the race was decided and everyone’s tyres were spent.

Here you can see where Charles slowed to artificially keep things at the right pace for the tyres and the time strategy for cars further behind. This wasn’t a race of who has faster pace, it was who can control things and who can keep their tyres in the best shape for the end of the race. So most of these lap times are going to be identical, and that’s just a symptom of the strategy.

But it was lap 66 when Charles started to really pick up the pace where actually being faster came into play. He was able to do this because he’d won in the area of tyre management, and so when he wanted to push he could get way more speed. I think he decided to push here because he wanted to win with a gap to second, mostly to assure there was no doubt about who won this race. He didn’t want it close. I also think he may have been attempting a fastest lap for that grand slam. It wasn’t necessary, it was more just a show of skill, which is what Monaco is for.

Oscar did push in those later laps as well, I think to see if he could keep up with Charles, not to pass but just to see if he had it. He didn’t. His tyres were worse off than Charles’ and this was reflected by their fastest lap times. Charles' fastest lap of his race was 1:15.162 on lap 70, and Oscar’s fastest was 1:16.281. So a full second off Charles, that second is really reflective of the tyre management from both of them. This was further highlighted by Charles finishing 7 seconds ahead of Oscar. That was a gap that reflected their tyre management over the race. Charles was able to push to get that gap(I think he wanted to win by a pretty good margin) Oscar did push, especially at first to try to keep pace with Charles but he did not have it in his tyres. That final gap is the real reflection of the difference between the two on their tyre management over the race.

From the start of the weekend to the checkered flag, Charles made it clear that he was the best driver this weekend, in multiple facets of technical skill. He put together a stunning qualifying lap, and followed that up with his superior tyre management and fine control of the SF-24.

Now on to the only real strategy concern of Charles’ race. The possibility of Lando pitting if the gap between George and Lando became great enough that Lando would be able to pit without giving up any places. What was the risk here, and would it have affected the outcome of the race if Lando had pit? The risk was that Lando would get fresh tyres, and with a field of cars all operating on old tyres that’s an advantage, and that he wouldn’t have to give up track position to do it. So he’d come out behind Carlos on fresh mediums. The concern would have been that he’d be able to overtake Carlos and then Charles would have two Mclaren’s behind. But Oscar couldn’t pass Charles. We saw Charles late in the race had the pace to be able to defend if he’d been seriously threatened. And this would have required Lando to pass Carlos, which we saw Max couldn’t overtake George when Max was on much fresher tyres, so I highly doubt Lando was getting past Carlos, and I further doubt that Oscar would have let Lando by to attempt to attack Charles.

I think it’s very likely that the moment Lando pit George would have increased his pace and possibly taken the spot. So it’s possible this would have just compromised Mclaren’s race and there was no real threat to Ferrari at all. The gap was fine so a little pushing from George was all it would take.

One argument was that both Mclaren’s could have pushed Charles to go faster, and Charles would have had to wear his tyres more, but we saw in the data that Charles was managing best, so he’d likely have been able to respond to this. And again this is all acting on the assumption that Lando would be able to overtake Carlos which I really do not think was going to happen. Carlos has shown he can defend against a Mclaren.

Also Charles was the one controlling the pace of the entire race. His pace was the one affecting Lando the most, not Carlos’, as Carlos pace was again dictated by Charles. That’s one of the key strategic advantages of getting pole in Monaco is that you get to set the pace of the race. Charles was the one in control of all 4 cars behind him, and the main car controlling both Mclarens. Carlos’ was making the smaller pace adjustments to both Mclarens to further refine the strategy and work off the control Charles was already exerting. Again excellent teamwork from both of them on this. But make no mistake about who was in the greatest amount of control and keeping Mclaren’s pace in check

The biggest risk Lando posed was to Carlos’ race, not Charles’. And even then that is a big if.

I fully believe that even if Carlos had been made to retire from the race, or had started further back Charles would have won. Oscar was faster than Lando and he tried putting pressure on Charles in the few places it was possible to do so, Charles defended and made it clear Oscar wasn’t getting by. Lando was not going to fare better than Oscar here, especially since his speed wasn’t as good as Oscar’s on this track.

Make no mistake, I do believe Carlos played a key role. His work against the Mclaren’s allowed Charles to stay focused on his tyres and getting his pace just right instead of having to worry more about the cars behind him. I think he could have managed anyway, but not having to worry about all of those factors because his teammate was covering him is the kind of teamwork we want to see. But Carlos is not the reason Charles won, Charles won because he was fastest, and also made the fewest mistakes on this highly technical track, and also had the best tyre management.

Now I will just take a moment to go over a few narratives forming around Charles’ win and performance.

“Oscar was faster than Charles”(in reference to qualifying): No, if you put together all of Oscar’s fastest mini sectors they add up to a faster lap than Charles’. But that isn’t actually fast, mini sectors don’t mean anything if you can’t string them together into one lap. It takes skill to not only be fast but to be fast over one lap for qualifying in Monaco. Oscar was certainly fast, but he wasn’t the fastest.

“It was a gifted win”: Monaco is often won in qualifying, the man who qualified the best, by a good margin is the one who won, that’s a win based on skill and speed, far from gifted. Also one’s team helping get a win isn’t gifted, that’s literally what a team is supposed to do. If you don’t understand that qualifying is a big part of winning Monaco I can’t help you.

“Charles got lucky”: He won Monaco the way it’s usually won, by putting together the best qualifying lap. Luck had nothing to do with it. He didn’t gain any positions based on luck, he wasn’t faster based on luck, he didn’t run the cleanest race of the weekend based on luck, it takes skill to pull that off.

Carlos

While this was Charles’ best performance all year, this race was also in my opinion one of Carlos’ best drives as well. Yes he’s had better results but the driving itself I think was better here. He really pulled off some great driving and was a key part of the team strategy to bring both Ferraris onto the podium. The only issue was in the first lap he would have been out on that puncture without the red flag, and that was in part his fault(he was the one attempting the pass so I place a little more responsibility for the contact on him) but after that his driving was quite good and he played very well into the team strategy. Not only that he did put together a very solid qualifying lap.

In terms of team strategy Carlos’ job was to keep Lando behind, and also to put pressure on Oscar so that Oscar couldn’t ever fully try to attack Charles(especially in those early laps) However the key battle for Carlos was against Lando. Keeping Lando back, and at the correct pace was crucial as if it had been too much or too little Lando may have had the opportunity to pit which could have compromised Carlos’ race(unlikely but not impossible).

There are a few key moments I want to highlight where Carlos was really pulling it all together in this strategy.

First was him holding off Lando in those early laps. The best opportunities for this race to overtake would have been the first 10-15 laps, and the final 10(depending on how a driver managed their tyres) , that is when they could afford to push the most, the middle of the race was all about keeping a certain pace.

The second was in the final 10 laps when Carlos essentially ping ponged between lap times to keep a little pressure on Oscar while holding Lando back by the correct margin to prevent any chance he’d have to try to sneak a pit stop. The team helped Carlos manage this quite well and he did great here.

He was mostly holding off Lando. Very rarely was he putting real pressure on Oscar.

The data reflects this quite clearly.

The swinging lap times in lap 55 -67 are the ones where Carlos’ exerting his control over Lando, and the rest of the pack’s pace is most apparent. Other laps in the middle of the race also reflect this. Faster laps were to be sure to remind Oscar that he could apply pressure, and to prevent things from slowing too much, slower laps were to keep the pace correct, he didn’t want to give Lando the chance to take more control of the pace of the cars behind. Great strategy from Ferrari, and good pace control from Carlos to pull this off.

I will say I am not sure about that attempt to get past Oscar on lap one that resulted in the puncture. On the one hand I get wanting to take the position, but also that’s so risky. I am not sure if that was a Ferrari strategy or if he made the move himself. I am doubtful Ferrari would risk something like that when both cars were already positioned so well, it was best to hold and manage from there rather than attempt the overtake which yes would have allowed full control of the front, but it also could have resulted in a collision which is more likely here, and that easily could have compromised Charles’ race as well. So I am unsure. I can see both approaches. I prefer the less risky one given Carlos was already in a good spot for himself and the team I don’t think it was worth the risk, and I mean I was right, it didn’t work for him. But fortunately he did get that bit of luck with the timing and his race after was really clean.

Now let’s just cover a few narratives that have formed around Carlos’ race.

“Carlos got lucky, he should have been out on that puncture at the restart”: No, the ruling that allowed him to keep P3 is consistent with previous rulings. He got a puncture after the red flag that triggered the race restart. Other teams, including Mclaren who are the main source of this complaint benefitted from being able to work on cars before the race restart as well, but it’s only unfair when Carlos benefits?

“Carlos keeping the position was unfair”: No, it was consistent with the rules. It can feel unfair all it wants, but I wouldn’t claim it’s unfair, if this were to come up again and benefit a different team I suspect people would be saying something different. It was consistent with the rules, and that’s what we want to see, regardless of who benefits and who loses.

Mclaren were the main team to claim that Carlos being allowed to start in his original position after the race restart was unfair. They aren’t reliable in this assessment, of course the rival team that stands the most to gain from Carlos being out is going to say this.

“Carlos got lucky”: Getting a tyre puncture at a specific time is a weird type of luck, but if you want to think that’s lucky I can’t stop you. If you are referring to him being allowed to keep his place that just came down to timing, and yes there was some luck with the timing there.

“Carlos should have been penalized for impeding during qualifying”: No, Carlos didn’t impede, Monaco is a narrow track and he got out of the way as soon as it was possible to do so.

“Carlos should have been penalized for contact with Oscar in lap 1”: The contact wasn’t solely his fault, it was a result of hard racing on both their parts, and since it was lap one this isn’t penalized.

“Carlos is the reason Charles won”: No. Carlos 100% aided in Charles’ race, as expected, he’s his teammate that’s what he’s supposed to do. But I am extremely confident that Charles still would have won without Carlos in P3. He helped, I detailed that, but to go this far is beyond a reach.

Carlos' result combined with Charles put Ferrari firmly in P2 for the WCC and only 24 points behind Red Bull, and kept a healthy lead to Mclaren. And this result obviously put Charles even more firmly in P2 in the driver’s standings, 31 points behind Max, and 25 points ahead of Lando who is now in P3. All in all Ferrari is in a strong position in both standings, and with the direction the team and car are going I think this trend will continue.

Monaco was yet another very strong finish for Ferrari. The fact both our drivers did well on this track is promising for what the SF-24 can do on street circuits. Monaco is a highly specific track but we did get some key takeaways about the strengths of our car this weekend, as well as the consistency of our drivers.

I want to finish this section with some fun statistics about Charles and Ferrari in relation to this win. Because of the technical achievement and historic importance, Monaco poles and wins are always something teams love to highlight in their legacy.

Ferrari has been on pole 13 times in Monaco. Of those 13, 3 of those poles were taken by Charles, making him responsible for 23% of Ferrari’s poles at Monaco.

Charles is the Ferrari driver with the most poles at Monaco with 3, the second most is held by Michael Schumacher with 2 poles with Ferrari at Monaco (Schumacher holds a total of 3 Monaco poles including the one he achieved with Bennetton)

This pole was the 250th pole for Ferrari as a team.

This was the 11th Monaco win for Ferrari. The last time Ferrari won in Monaco was Sebastian Vettel in 2017

This was Charles’ 6th career win, all of which he has achieved with Ferrari

Forza Ferrari

Data Analysis

I covered Charles’ race and qualifying versus Oscar in his section, as that was key to understanding the story of his victory. This section is going to cover teammate comparisons as well as Ferrari to Mclaren comparisons.

Here is a look at Charles compared to Carlos in qualifying.

Charles was ahead in every sector. Carlos was off Charles’ time by 2.5 tenths. The real difference came in the more technical areas in sectors 2 and 3. Carlos’ later braking style was not as suited to this track and it did cost him time on many key turns. He also did not achieve the same speeds on other turns and straights. It’s not a bad lap, again it’s a good showing, but this further highlights how good Charles’ lap was.

And a full comparison of Mclaren to Ferrari in qualifying. As we all saw this was the real qualifying battle. Mclaren and Ferrari were the clear front runners during qualifying, the order was the only real question. And it seems that Ferrari had a slight edge, and that edge I will attribute in part to the car and in part to the skill of our drivers, because yes I think Charles and Carlos are better at Monaco than Lando and Oscar. And the qualifying results seem to reflect this.

Carlos and Lando were extremely close. It came down to hundreths. And really Lando was on pace for a faster lap but a slight error into the final turn and lower speed on that final straight was where he lost that time to Carlos. It really came down to very tiny details. It was Lando’s P3 to lose, and well he lost it. Carlos put in a good lap, but Lando was going to get that P3 position if he’d been able to keep up the pace he’d set.

Looking at them all the thing that stands out is Charles early braking, especially in the medium and low speed corners of sector three. As well as his better top speed on the final turns and straight, and higher speeds in a few key areas throughout the track.

Mclaren

Another repeat of Mclaren’s best result so far this season with a 2-4. This time with Oscar getting his best result with that P2.

Oscar

Yes Oscar took some damage due to his contact with Carlos on lap 1(that did get at least partially repaired during the race restart) however, I do not believe he would have been able to make the pass on Charles, or have produced enough pace to keep the pressure on for much longer than he did. The damage didn’t affect his race that much, so I don’t think without this damage his results would have been any different. In fact Mclaren said as much. He didn’t have the pace to be able to pull an overtake in Monaco, that’s a very tall order and wasn’t likely even in the best of conditions. And in spite of the damage he ran a very clean race, and this was a good learning curve for him in tyre management.

Oscar was really showing that he’s the faster of the two Mclaren’s, or trying to make that point. I will be very interested to see if he can keep that up. Since he was faster on this highly technical track he has my attention(he already had it, but that lap was impressive)

Oscar made one real attempt at overtaking Charles, going into turn 10 around lap 8. He tested the possibility, and Charles responded very quickly. I think after that he didn't seriously consider risking it again.

Lando

Lando's race was mainly to put pressure on Carlos. The main point of interest for him strategy wise was whether or not Mclaren were going to try to pit him at a certain point for fresh tyres if the gap between him and George(who was about 17-18 seconds behind in P5) This pit possibility would have put Lando behind Carlos on fresher tyres.

However I actually do not believe Mclaren were seriously about to try this. It was considered, but given they had two good track positions I think it wasn't worth the risk. Lando wasn't going to be able to overtake Carlos even on newer tyres. The chances of that were slim to none, so it really wasn't worth the pit, which might have risked George upping the pace to try to pass while Lando was in the pits.

Would Lando have been able to put pressure on Carlos if he'd had fresher tyres? Yes. Would he have been able to pass Carlos? Highly unlikely.

"Lando was a threat to Charles' race": Not really. The worst he was going to be able to do was threaten Carlos and even that wasn't a massive concern. He wasn't going to be passing Carlos and Oscar and then catching Charles. This is Monaco, it isn't like other tracks where a much fresher set of tyres would equal being able to pass.

"Lando was going to be able to pass Carlos": Again highly unlikely. We saw something similar with Max on fresh tyres behind George. Max got within less than a second of George and couldn't make the pass. Lando wasn't getting past Carlos, who has been very competent defending against Mclarens.

Data Analysis

Continuing the theme of qualifying being key at Monaco let’s compare Oscar and Lando’s qualifying laps.

Oscar was faster by a little over a tenth. I think that what this shows is that overall they were very close. The place Oscar was consistently better was sector 3, that’s where Lando wasn’t catching him. On the slows Lando was clearly better. And the rest it came down to little things. Oscar didn’t brake for as long in a few key areas, but on others he was more conservative than Lando on the throttle. There are a few points where Oscar was clearly faster, and the finer points of sector three where his braking and throttle application are what put him ahead. Oscar’s speed and the spots where he was braver on the brakes and got the timing better are what set him apart from Lando. But Lando’s experience also came through in a few areas, especially on how to handle those slows best. Overall a great lap from Oscar. I think in another year he will be even better here.

I also think this highlights that the two Mclaren drivers are very close, probably the closest teammates on the grid right now as far as pace and speed goes. There are areas where Oscar is stronger and others where Lando has the edge. It’s going to be track and condition dependent that makes the differences between them this year.

I also want to note that the fact Monaco is a low deg track played to Oscar’s favor. He is still getting mixed results in higher deg conditions, so this weekend was a good show of his skill without having to contend with high deg.

Solid race for Mclaren. Oscar really showed his skill after several races where luck was not on his side. I think we will be seeing him on the podium quite a few more times this season.

Red Bull

So what happened to Red Bull this weekend? Because this is the first weekend when real weaknesses in their car are becoming a real problem. The most shocking thing was Checo qualifying P18(bumped up to P16 after the Haas DSQ, but to get an idea of the speed issue compared to the other cars the P18 is relevant)

Last year Max talked about one of the few weaknesses of the RB19, he mentioned this quite a lot, on tracks and post season; the issue being the car was not as strong on street circuits, especially when it came to the grip, taking curbs, and overall reliability for him. I think that because Red Bull was so dominant last year most people didn’t think much of this complaint, seeing it more as a nitpick rather than Max giving real serious insight into a problem with the car concept. Well, this year the field have caught up to Red Bull very quickly, and what was a minor problem last year compared to the rest of the field, is now far more significant. I don’t think these results are from the RB20 taking a step backwards, it’s more that Ferrari and Mclaren are catching up, and they don’t have the same problem as Red Bull on these street circuits. So now what was something Red Bull could manage is a genuine weakness that is becoming more highlighted by the rest of the field.

What shocked me was not just that these are Red Bull’s weakest results for that car all season. It was also the gap between Checo and Max.

I think that the gap between Checo and Max in qualifying is likely the result of a gamble by Red Bull. They probably went with two different setups in qualifying, hoping one would pay off. Because they tried so many setups during all free practice sessions and nothing really worked. And it seems that Checo's was probably the more extreme and thus was either going to pay off for him or fall completely flat. Given the results and his reaction to qualifying we know how that gamble paid off. I think with Max they probably played it to whatever he wanted and also the setup where they got the closest to some good speed. It seems with Max they chose more stability and speed and lower ride height

That many places off indicates an issue in the setup, and not just Checo being that much slower than Max. Max is faster, but that’s the biggest gap there’s been between them I think ever? Especially without any damage. So that many places off is a symptom of something beyond Checo himself. Checo is a solid driver and he has been fast in that car.

The problem isn’t aerodynamic. It’s mechanical. The relationship between the suspension and the required ride height for the curbs on this track. All weekend they tried different setup to mitigate the issue and nothing worked. The suspension being too stiff prevents it from absorbing the impact of bumps which leads to all that force being directed to the chassis. Which in turn leads to that bouncing. Every time they hit a curb they lost time, and every time they had to run a little wide to avoid a curb they lost time. It was a lose-lose and no amount of setup was mitigating enough.

This is a track specific problem that upgrades likely will not be able to solve this season. We will probably see this again, likely on more street circuits as well as circuits with higher curbs and curbs that require a certain camber on the tyres. Since it was a problem in Singapore last year chances are we see Red Bull have issues there again.

Max

During qualifying Max was on pace to actually place closer to Oscar’s time, but he hit a wall and that cost him the attempt. So he actually did have the potential for a top 4 if not a top 3 time. I think at the very least he’d have placed ahead of George. That error cost him, and it was very much due to the instability in the ride of the suspension. So he ended up qualifying P6, and that’s the position he held the entire race.

The only thing interesting about Max’s actual race was when he pit for medium tyres, and came up behind George who was still on old mediums. There was a chance to maybe attempt an overtake. So why didn’t it happen? Well I think the reason is pretty simple that the reliability of the RB20 on this track wasn’t good enough to be able to attempt an overtake in Monaco. I think Max would have been able to make the pass if he’d had more faith in the car, he very likely had the pace, but being unable to handle corners well, when those are areas overtaking can be done really made it impossible for him. (edit: originally said George was on old hards, when he was in fact on old mediums)

Sergio

Because the Haas cars were disqualified from qualifying, they started in P19 and P20 from the pit lane. So they started behind Checo who originally qualified P18 and started P16 because of the DSQs. On the first lap Kevin made an attempt to pass Checo on the outside and clipped Checo’s rear, causing him to spin and slide down the track and along the barrier shredding his car and slamming into the barrier. This crash also resulted in both Haas cars being damaged and having to retire.

Thankfully the safety features on the car protected Checo and he was able to walk away relatively unharmed, no major injuries reported.

However there was an injury that resulted from this crash. A photographer who was behind the barrier Checo crashed into had to be taken to the hospital after sustaining injuries from debris that was essentially blasted through the barriers. This raises a very serious safety concern. The amount of debris that made it through could have resulted in worse injuries, and the opposite side of the barriers should probably be improved to prevent a bystander from being injured again in the future. The photographer is alright the injuries were minor. But a bystander being injured at all is of serious concern as far as track safety goes.

Checo had the racing line in this incident. He was not at fault. Kevin was the one attempting to make the pass and the one who made contact. He didn’t have enough room and tried to force his way by on the outside anyway. His front wheel made contact with Checo’s rear wheel and a bit of his suspension and that is what caused him to fully lose the rears and spin across the track.

Checo was on the inside, he moved to the middle, all while ahead of Kevin, and by the time Kevin had put his wheels next to Checo the gap between Checo and the wall was less than a car's width. Additionally with Valtteri directly ahead there was nowhere for Kevin to really go had he made that pass. He didn't have the racing line, he didn't have room, and he didn't have space after Checo. This was all information that he had before attempting that move. It was beyond bold, it was reckless and sloppy.

I think it’s very clearly Kevin’s fault. So why wasn’t he penalized? Well, the stewards felt it wasn’t anything bad enough in terms of the driving to warrant a penalty, and since it was the first lap they attributed it to hard racing. But is this just hard racing? What is the limit of what they will permit before it gets penalized on lap 1. I am usually a proponent of “let them race” in lap one, but this was way too far. I do not want to find out what the limit is if something like this goes without penalty. Checo is very fortunate that he wasn’t injured. It could have been so much worse.

Data Analysis

The data is pretty clear in reflecting Red Bull’s struggles. Here is Max vs Checo’s qualifying laps.

Max was just able to achieve better top speeds. And had better racing line through the areas where the curbs were an issue. As I stated above I also think this gap is due to a significant setup difference between the two. But it’s still interesting to see where the differences are under that assumption, one setup was clearly better than the other. I also think that Max’s ability to mitigate the issues was much greater than Checo’s.

What really highlights the problems Red Bull were having with the reliability and control around this track is comparing Max to Charles.

Here the control Charles had on the corners really highlights where the problems were with the Red Bull on those same corners. Max was braking much later, and I think that’s a result of him having to go around the curbs more. Also Charles in the Ferrari had better top speeds on most of the straights. But those straights are where the Red Bull made up some time. The car was still fast, it was the corners and the fine control this track demands where the car was struggling.

Red Bull still have a strong car. But it is far from perfect, and with other teams improving rapidly in key areas, the RB20 is going to become more track specific for performance. Which isn’t good for their reliability in the standings, but highly promising for anyone looking to beat them.

Haas

This was Haas’ worst result of the season. Worst result in the season for any team period. From getting both their drivers disqualified from qualifying because they didn’t have the proper rear wing measurements and thus were flagged for a technical violation, to both cars DNFing due to the fault of one of their own drivers, this weekend was a failure by the team on multiple fronts.

Haas failed both their drivers for failing the ensure the rear wing was in technical compliance. I don’t even know how they made that mistake. But this was no fault of the drivers. Both Kevin and Nico had to start the race from the pitlane and their qualifying results were deleted.

Then on the first lap Kevin attempted a pass on Checo and this led to him not only crashing with Checo and ending his own race, the crash was big enough it took out his teammate as well. Kevin was at fault here. Checo had the racing line, there was not enough space on the outside for that pass when Kevin made that attempt. Checo was under no real obligation to move. Kevin went for it anyway and the resulting crash was extremely dangerous for both drivers.

I explained above why the stewards didn’t give Kevin a penalty for this. His actions fell under “hard racing” which they are far more lenient on in lap one. However I think there is more to this. I think that this incident was too far to be considered “hard racing” especially when the fault is so clearly skewed as well. We had another lap one incident that was clearly one driver’s fault that did result in a penalty with Esteban. So why not Kevin?

I suspect that the stewards were more reluctant to issue the penalty because it would have resulted in a one race ban for Kevin, and they did not want that to be the outcome. That isn’t something that should be considered when looking at individual incidents, but I think that wanting to avoid him getting that ban was a reason for more lenience here, which to me is unacceptable. This is speculation on my part, so take it as conjecture, but to me it makes sense.

Overall bad weekend for Haas.

Alpine

There are two things worth noting about Alpine’s weekend, first Pierre got their best qualifying result all year coming in P10 and also secured his first points of the season. Big for this team that was struggling heavily at the beginning of the season. It’s looking like they will be at least challenging for some more points in the future. Great result and driving from Pierre, that qualifying lap he produced was extremely solid.

The other thing of note was the lap one collision between Pierre and Esteban. Esteban qualified P11 right behind Pierre in P10. Right before the tunnel he tried to pass Pierre on the inside and then in doing so pushed Pierre wide, on a track like Monaco the only place for Pierre to go when forced wide was into the wall, so he rammed into the back of Esteban, damaging Esteban’s car and his own. Esteban had to retire from the race, Pierre was able to race upon the restart having take minor damage.

This collision was 100% Esteban’s fault. Apparently he was told by the team not to attempt a pass on Pierre, and on a track like Monaco risking both cars for an overtake like that was just reckless.

Now it has come to my attention that while yes this incident was Esteban’s fault there was more leading up to it than him just doing this randomly. There had been more back and forth with him and Pierre earlier in the lap and also Esteban was getting squeezed by other cars before he tried that pass on Pierre. So this was in part from some crowding, it wasn't just he decided to barge past his teammate randomly or purely out of ego, there was a little more there. I do still think that this doesn’t excuse the move. He had room and should have stayed back instead of attempting a pass, and the degree to which he forced Pierre wide was also unacceptable, especially on a track with no runoff. I wanted to be sure to be fair and note that there was more context than the pass and resulting contact that has been making the rounds in coverage of the collision.

Esteban was given a 10 second penalty that was increased to a 5 place starting grid penalty in the next race since he did not race on the restart, his car had sustained too much damage to be ready in time for the race restart.

So a mixed weekend for Alpine, good results for Pierre, and more than a few issues with Esteban.

Mercedes

Mercedes actually had one of their best races in terms of results. George started P5 and finished P5, Lewis started P7 and finished P7. That P5 is the highest GP finish they’ve had since George came in P5 back in Bahrain. And Lewis was higher here so overall good result for the team in points. Lewis also set the fastest lap of the race, and this lap was actually significant because it was another record broken by him. With this fastest lap scored Lewis Hamilton now holds the record for the most fastest laps scored for a single team with 54 for Mercedes, just beating Michael Schumacher who scored 53 fastest laps with Ferrari.

George was solid at controlling the pace of the cars behind, including keeping Max off, even after Max had pit for fresh tyres. Lewis maximized his points given the position.

I think that Lando pitting was something Mercedes were almost hoping for. They also played a role in creating that gap. Because there was a chance that if Lando pit George could speed up and take a place. I suspect this is very likely because it’s one of the few possibilities the entire dynamic of the race would have presented to take a place like this. So this strategy may have been an attempt to tempt Mclaren into pitting.

All around a good weekend for Mercedes. Their car seemed to be better suited to this track. The upgrades seem to be paying off in some capacity because both drivers were at least competitive in qualifying and free practice.

There is still something odd going on that Lewis pointed out between the car in free practice vs qualifying, he said it just is almost a guarantee of losing 2 tenths of pace. Which this is likely due to a larger car setup issue. Unsure of what or how they might be able to go about fixing it. But the car does have some more potential than we saw at the beginning of the season. And both drivers do seem to be more comfortable. Yes George noted a lot of bouncing, but he also tied for his best result so clearly something was working.

Williams

This was Williams' best race. Alex qualified P9 and finished P9 bringing Williams’ first points of the season. And on the Monaco track to boot, that’s a really solid performance from Alex.

Logan also showed improvement from his Monaco performance last year. Of course the big upset was the fact he did out-qualify Checo in the Red Bull, this was certainly a symptom of something very off about the Red Bull and less to do with Logan's speed, but still that result had to feel good from his perspective. And after the Haas cars were both disqualified he was bumped up to P15 from his original position in P17. He finished in P15. This was his second best grand prix result of the season, after his P14 in Jeddah.

I also want to note that Logan ran with Williams 2023 rear wing, because apparently they didn’t have enough parts. I really don’t know how this keeps happening. He did well in spite of this, and clearly that still was a better setup than whatever Red Bull did with Checo’s car.

Anyway, the Williams upgrades do seem to have finally yielded them some results.

Final Thoughts

The question everyone had after this race was “Do we have a title fight?” And the answer to me is yes. In the constructor’s Red Bull is in trouble, especially when it comes to Ferrari. Checo having a few mid to bad results, and Max not being on the podium have left the standings much closer. 24 points, that’s all there is, and if Charles and Carlos keep putting in the reliable top performances they have been, that gap will continue to close.

Okay that was the constructors, but what about the driver’s championship, do we have a title fight there? Well the gap to Max is a bit wider. I think that in a few more races we can make that call. If Red Bull continue to struggle on the car setup and Max doesn’t start pulling in consistent wins like he did at the beginning of the season then we will have a title fight on our hands. I think also with more Ferrari upgrades coming in Silverstone this will also possibly put Ferrari more ahead. If those upgrades add more speed, as they are aimed to do then Charles will have a car that he can consistently challenge Max in. So there’s more at play for the WDC title, but we are close to it being a real possibility.

This race was a career highlight for Charles. And a privilege to get to watch live.

Monaco never going to forget this grand prix. Ferrari isn’t going to forget this race. And Charles is always going to remember this win. History was made.

That’s all I have, see you all in Canada!

#lucis race analysis #monaco gp 2024 #charles leclerc #scuderia ferrari #Formula 1 #F1 #long post

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macaiv · 8 months ago

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Might I remind people that this is the first time in 7 YEARS that Esteban was the one who caused a crash with his teammate. People go on saying he always crashes and drives aggressively against his teammates but have you even bothered to watch how HIS teammates raced him? Just as aggressively and most of the time much worse than him. Ever wonder why most of his teammate crashes weren't his fault bar two (Baku 2017 and now)?

And we have to admit it, teammates who are beside each other on track will, at one point or more, clash with each other. Case in point, Seb-Charles, Carlos-Charles, Lewis-George, Nico-Lewis, Seb-Weber, Fernando-Lewis and many more. Esteban had the fortune and misfortune of actually matching his teammates, hence why he and them often start beside each other. In the words of Fernando "Some first laps we had some fights, because we start always together, we qualify very close."

And I'm sorry but no way will Alpine replace their better performing driver (I said what I said) for a one clumsy mistake. A mistake a lot of drivers have made and will make in the future. Alpine will be extremely foolish to even consider it especially when the past teammate incidents (Australia, Japan, Miami...), Gasly wasn't so innocent there either.

The level of overreaction is unreal. And I know most of it is because the driver in question is Esteban, nothing more nothing less. Famin certainly didn't help with his unnecessary and unprofessional comment. As much as I don't want to admit it, Otmar would have handled this much better than him.

#i'm still fuming #I need to get off social media for a few days #anyway...#They are racers and if you can't handle battles even between teammates... I don't think this sport is for you (yes i'm went there)#esteban ocon #eo31 #anti-gasly #just in case #rant

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seonghwaddict · 2 years ago

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 004 ] rotten lemons.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. blood drinking. word count. 1.7k

　　　　　　　　chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung returned to the house at around four in the morning, each carrying two crates. As soon as they stepped through the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong as he made his way down the stairs, blue tufts of hair bouncing on his head.

“How’d it go?” He asked over his shoulder as they followed him into the kitchen and dropped her crates on the countertop.

Seonghwa shrugged and opened the first crate as Wooyoung and Yunho moved to the living room. “The usual. The prices went up though, 300 thousand per five bags.”

With an understanding nod, Hongjoong took a seat on one of the island stools. He reached for a different crate and pulled it towards him, looking through it before pulling out a translucent white bag, a thick red liquid swishing around inside. After taking a look at the label, he snapped his fingers. A thin wine glass appeared on the counter and it didn’t take him too long to open the bag and pour its contents in the cup.

“Did you get some O neg for San? He said he’s running out,” he asked after taking a refreshing sip.

“Yeah, probably enough to keep him satisfied for a few months.”

While they were quite open to drinking any type of blood, they had preferences. Some of them preferred sweeter tastes (usually O or B-type blood as they taste somewhat like the sweetness you’d get from honey) and others preferred more sour tastes (such as A-type blood, a taste that resembled the slight sourness you’d get from a cherry). However, with San, he’d always been in a bit of a tricky situation…

O-type blood, specifically of the negative sort, is considered one of the rarer types of blood. The demand for it can get pretty high, which in turn also makes prices hike up quite a bit. Typically blood vendors wouldn’t have a lot of O-negative stocked which can sometimes be a bit concerning. Especially because that’s the only blood type that San’s body can process.

But, fortunately, they didn’t have to worry about that too much since their go-to vendor always had some of that prestigious type.

Around the country, there were different vendors for blood bags—blood-banks. Unfortunately, the closest one to their house was a 2-hour drive, so it was inconvenient to constantly go and come back with the bare minimum amount they would need for a week. Usually, the bags get stocked and sold to vampires and after a month, anything that wasn’t sold would be donated to local hospitals on behalf of a ‘private blood donation organisation.’

Of course, many vampires preferred to get blood directly from the source (A.K.A. suck it out of people’s necks themselves), since it had a sweeter, fresher taste. But, alas, this was also too inconvenient for the boys living in this lavish mansion. They’d have to consider too many things before sucking the blood directly from a human, so they opted for just buying it in bags.

“That’s more than enough I think.” Hongjoong swirled the blood in the glass one more time before downing the rest of it and wiping the excess on his chin with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

Once Seonghwa finished moving all the blood bags to the fridge, the two men moved to the living room and joined the rest of their cluster mates. San, Mingi and Yeosang were playing some video game on the TV; Jongho sat in an armchair and read a book, occasionally glancing to see how the game was going; Wooyoung sat on the ground with his head in San’s lap and Yunho sat cross-legged on the couch, narrating the game like a football narrator.

“Yeosangie, did Y/N get home safe?” Wooyoung asked as the round ended and Yeosang passed his controller to Yunho. A fond smile stretched itself onto the blond’s face as he nodded gently, thinking back to the way you had slept so peacefully in his car, light snores filling the silence of the vehicle.

“Who’s Y/N?” San asked, tilting his head down to look at Wooyoung.

“She’s an art student. We were each paired with one to work on a project. She actually came over here a few hours ago so we could start working a bit,” he explained. “I like her, she’s very pretty. A bit stubborn though, I almost had to fight her because we couldn’t agree on something. But I don’t think she’s very fond of me.” He concluded with a pout.

“Jongho also met her before, more or less,” Yeosang added, looking at the youngest as he shifted in his chair, “she works at that bookstore that you go to sometimes.”

The theatre student in question looked up, blinking at the ceiling and tilting his head as he tried to remember. He grimaced “The one that smells like a rotten lemon?”

“No,” Yeosang was quick to deny, not wanting any of the men that hadn’t met her to get the wrong impression. “The one that smells delicious.”

They talked about you for another ten minutes, Wooyoung recounting his experience working with you and Yeosang explained how you two had met. His brothers poked some fun at him, making it sound like he’d fallen head over heels for the girl that regularly ordered an iced latte with triple sugar. He swatted their teasing comments away but blushed the shade of Jongho’s hair when Wooyoung mentioned he’d seen some sketches in her sketchbook that looked an awful lot like him.

“If he liked her I wouldn’t really blame him,” Seonghwa had laughed, perfectly straight white teeth on display. “She’s intriguing.”

So, yeah, they all agreed there was something interesting about you. The ones that hadn’t met you tried coming up with ways to meet you, and the ones that had tried coming up with ways to meet you again. All the while Wooyoung giggled, knowing he’d have to spend the most time with you and loving the fact he could rub it into everyone’s faces.

But, for now, they wanted to spend their weekend relaxing and being lazy without constantly thinking about some cute girl. (That was a lie. Even though they would deny it, Wooyoung couldn’t deny the way his mind wandered to you every hour, wondering what you were up to; Seonghwa thought of you every time he stepped into the kitchen and if he concentrated hard enough—which he did for a single reason—he was sure he could still smell your sweet vanilla aroma wafting through the air; Jongho worked his way through his books faster so he could go to your book store and Yeosang spent his day at work hoping you’d walk through the door.)

You didn’t really question it, but were still mildly confused, when you walked out of the art studio the next Monday and saw Wooyoung standing against the wall, waiting for you. Students ogled as they passed by him and some talked and laughed extra loudly to get his attention, but his eyes remained on you.

Approaching him, you raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up, obviously.” He rolled his eyes playfully, reaching for your hand and dragging you out of the building. “I had another idea. I want to be able to do more for this project, so I’m going to choreograph and film a dance that we could maybe display at the exhibition with, like, a projector or something. You know, so we both contribute to this—equally. How does that sound?”

When he stopped and turned around to face you, he had to stop himself from cooing at your face as you thought. Your face was directed at him but your eyes looked unfocused, lower lip caught between your teeth as you tried to visualise his idea. Finally, you gave an approving hum and nod.

“That actually doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea,” you nodded as he resumed leading you to wherever it is he wanted to go. “Maybe the paintings could be based on pieces of your choreography.”

“Yeah, that’s also a great idea!” He cheered enthusiastically, a bright smile different from the usual mischievous one you see plastered on his lips. “Oh, also!” He stopped again as he remembered something, tugging on the hand that he still held within his colder one to get you to face him. “We’re gonna be hosting a party, you should come!”

Now that was something a bit harder for you to agree with.

“Oh, I don’t know…” The insecurity in your face dwindled as your words trailed off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Please, Y/N, just this once.” He gave you his best puppy eyes and pleading voice. “The rest of the guys want to meet you, and what better place than a party where you can let loose?”

You decided it was a tempting proposal. After a long, torturing pause, you finally sighed, “Fine. When is it?”

Excitement lit up on Wooyoung’s face and you could’ve sworn his brown eyes nearly started sparkling. “We were planning on Saturday, but we haven’t made the announcement yet so we could always change it if you want.”

The pure joy he felt faltered for a second as your face fell.

“I’m not available on Saturdays, so Friday or Sunday would work better for me if that’s ok.”

Instantly, he began nodding. “Yeah, we could do it on Friday. What do you do on Saturdays, if cou don’t mind me asking?”

Ah, shit. I did not think this far ahead. You smacked yourself mentally, scrambling to come up with a plausible excuse. If he found your hesitation suspicious, he didn’t say anything about it as he awaited your answer. Instead, he watched with interest, loosely swinging your conjoined hands from side to side.

“Oh, you know. I study and catch up on all the sleep I usually miss.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at you, lips pursed and a contemplative hum ringing from him until he nodded and resumed his walk once again. “Okay. I’ll send you the address later, it won’t be at our house—last time someone broke the chandelier.”

“What chandelier?” Your brows furrowed as you briefly looked up to him. It was then that you realised he was still holding your hand, so as discreetly as possible, you tugged on it and hoped he would get the hint.

“Exactly.”

After a few more tugs it seemed like he finally noticed, his grip loosened and you were able to slip your hand out.

“Do you have any classes for the rest of the day?”

You shook your head after trying and succeeding to remember your schedule. “No, why?”

“Great, let’s go eat!”

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] this one's a bit short. i'm not really amazing at writing scenes that involve more than 4 people, but i've been getting better i think so it should be fine. we finally got some vampteez content in this chapter, hope y'all like that.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @seongwin @yuyunhoo @kyukyustar @seongfury @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb @asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

#★ NEVER SAY NEVER — seonghwaddict #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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uniquexusposts · 7 months ago

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Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff Story type: novel Part: 14/? Word count: 3144 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 12. You Don't Trust Me

The race on Sunday was a race that people were looking forward to. It was a perfect weekend for Ferrari so far; Charles qualified on pole, and Carlos would start from P2. Everyone had hope, hope that they could take the win home. But most importantly, Charles could break his curse. Unfortunately, Arthur was still affected with the Leclerc curse at their home Grand Prix, he had DNF'ed towards the end of the race.

There was pressure resting on Ferrari. They wanted to win, they were eager to win. It felt like they were in Miami again; the dynamic within the team was positive and energetic, but this time, it was real. They were one team, no one was left out.

Before the race, Charles almost couldn't control his nerves. The flawless weekend in Monte Carlo was new to him, he never got the chance to finish it flawless. If it wasn't a mechanical failure, it was a crash. He didn't want to let his friends and family down. He wanted to make them proud. He wanted to make the people of Monaco proud, and his fans, who supported him dearly here in Monaco. There was no way he could afford to fail. Again. Charles could make it, he was confident about it.

From the moment the lights went out, Charles and Carlos executed perfect starts. The Ferrari's roared to life, and they shot forward with precision, entering the first turn perfectly. Charles took the lead, showing his skills. As they navigated through the streets of Monaco, there was an air of confidence around both drivers that could be felt even through the TV screens.

The circumstances weren't too perfect, though. The weather played a big role during the Grand Prix. it threatened to rain multiple times, it could ruin everything. Matilde was monitoring everything closely, nothing would go wrong under her watch.

The team's strategy was spot-on. Pit stops were executed with military precision and exemplary tyre management. Charles and Carlos communicated succinctly with their engineers, providing feedback that allowed them to make real-time and quick adjustments to the cars.

Unfortunately, there was an incident with Carlos and Checo. Checo wanted to overtake Carlos, but his tyres locked up, and he touched Carlos. They both dropped down to the fifth and sixth position, behind Ocon. It was frustrating to the team, mostly because it wasn't a mistake from the team or Carlos, but a racing incident. Matilde was disappointed, but she had to keep her head up for Charles, who was delivering outstanding results.

As the laps counted down, the gap between Charles and Max grew. Every time the drivers passed the crowd, they erupted in cheers. The ambience felt special, it felt like everyone was eagerly waiting for this victory. Matilde felt the pressure coming up, just like the nerves. It would be amazing if she could deliver this home victory to Charles, but little did she know what was about to happen in lap 65.

"I want to switch to new softs," Charles said over the board radio. "I want to go for the fastest lap."

Matilde's eyes shot to the times and other data; he had no chance. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, and she bit her upper lip. She looked at Xavi, waiting for his answer.

"Negative," Xavi replied.

Matilde nodded, the only right answer. As much as she wanted to give Charles a grand slam, it was impossible to do so. Xavi's response was in line with their strategy, and she couldn't afford to gamble that would make a difference between a win and not.

"I'm gliding on these tyres," Charles mentioned again. "We're losing time as well."

"Negative," Xavi said again. "We will not take the risk. We stick to plan A."

"I am losing time because of the tyres."

"You're not losing time. Stay out."

"I am losing time. I want new softs," Charles clarified.

Matilde took a deep breath, and she looked annoyed. What part of the 'we will not take the risk' does he not understand?

"I want to take the risk and go for the fastest lap," Charles explained again.

"Negative."

"I'm coming in," Charles repeated, his frustration clear in his voice.

It was time for Matilde to stir. She felt a pang of irritation. She knew Charles was a fierce competitor, especially now he was about to win his home Grand Prix after a faultless weekend, but right now, he couldn't afford a pit stop. "Stay out, I repeat, stay out," she replied on the board radio, her irritation subtle creeping into her tone.

"I am losing time!" Charles protested.

"We do not have a free pit stop." She looked at his position on the track. "If you pit right now, you will end up behind Max with a gap of five seconds. There will be no chance to overtake him in the time that is left," she sternly said. Her eyes shot to the data; yes, Max was gaining time every lap, but Charles didn't lose time. By the time they finish, Charles would still be far ahead of Max if he stayed out. Matilde's eyes darted to the pits, the Ferrari crew was ready with fresh tyres. "If you come in, you will lose your chance for a victory. Stay out," she mentioned again, her patience wearing thin. "Abort this pitstop."

The pit stop crew were stepping inside the garage again, exactly what Matilde told them to do. She looked back at the screens again, Charles was pushing, exactly what he needed to do if he wanted a free pit stop. Seconds passed, and everything looked great again.

"... I'm already in."

Matilde's face straightened, and she looked at her screen; indeed, he had entered the pits. She turned around and saw a red car approaching their garage. "Are you serious?" she mumbled to herself, looking disapprovingly at Charles, who now stopped. She ignored his rant over the board radio, letting it all happen. The pit crew panicked and ran out with the fresh tyres. Matilde looked down, seeing how the guys struggled. Malicious pleasure, this was an almost malicious pleasure.

To make matters worse, the right rear tyre didn't want to go on. They were struggling. Matilde could only look at it and think how unnecessary this was. After a good twenty extra seconds, the tyre was on, and Charles drove away. It was silent, completely silent. Matilde's eyes followed the car to the exit. She turned around, facing the data and standings.

P5.

"No, no, no! Fuck!" Charles yelled.

Consequences of his own actions, she thought. This hurt. She couldn't help but feel annoyed at how a possible win had slipped away. The camera filmed how the crew in the garage reacted: they were bummed. She felt a camera on her, filming her reaction; she wanted to laugh and yell at the same time, but she told him not to come in, and this was not her mistake.

The data continued to roll in. Carlos moved a position up, making him a podium candidate. He was pushing, closing the gap with Alonso, trying to take the second position from him. Charles was pushing hard, trying to regain his lost positions during the disastrous pit stop. However, time was running out, and the gap between the cars in front of him was significant.

As the laps ticked away, Charles managed to close the gap with Ocon, but he couldn't pass him. It was a bummer that the victory that had seemed so certain earlier in this race had slipped through his fingers. Charles finished fifth, and Carlos was third. It wasn't the result the team hoped for, but the third position was the best they could accept this weekend. Matilde thanked the entire team for their performances and left the pit wall.

On the way to the podium, Matilde ran into Sylvia. They made eye contact.

"Expression," Sylvia said, pointed at her face and passed her.

Matilde straightened her face, trying to keep it neutral. She knew she had a face that was easy to read, but she had no idea it was that obvious. And apparently, her face showed what she thought during the race. When she entered the track, many people were already applauding Max, who got out of his car. Matilde decided to stand in the back, she didn't want to face the media and show her face. She wanted to give the team the celebration, they were standing in the front for Carlos.

"So, eh..." Christian found Matilde in the crowd and stood next to her. "What happened?"

"The Monaco curse," Matilde casually replied.

His eyebrows raised.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked in front of her. "It's a circus," she concluded and shook her head.

He leaned closer to her. "They can read lips, you know," he whispered.

"Consequences of his own actions."

"You can't really say that as team principal, Matilde. You can think it, not say it."

Her eyebrows raised, and she looked at her former boss. The man was known for openly sharing his opinions. "I'm saying this as Matilde, a supporter of the sport, to a friend. You will not hear me say this in the media or in front of the team."

Christian looked at her; he was impressed. He knew her as a sweet woman who barely shared her thoughts. Now she turned into a confident woman with an opinion, she showed no insecurities. A real leader.

"What?"

"Nothing," Christian said.

"But, eh, what was that? With Checo?" She looked unamused at him. Christian's eyes widened. She shook her head in disappointment. "It's a shame. Again."

"We haven't had a chance to speak to our drivers yet. It's too soon to speak."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "We will talk." Matilde looked at him, sharing a waitingful look before snorting when she saw his smile, a playful smile, he still couldn't accept the fact how much she had grown into a leader in a couple of months. "No, but for real, I don't accept this - professional-wise."

"We will talk," he repeated. "But hey, I wanted to ask if you want to join us for dinner tonight. Toto and Susie are coming as well."

Matilde let out a smirk. "You and Toto?" She turned to him. "Secret bromance?"

"Get out of here," he responded immediately. "No, Geri and Susie organised something. We are just being good husbands."

She nodded. "Thank you, but I will have to pass. You have no idea how much trouble I got into the last time I went out with you."

"Was it that bad?"

She blew up her cheeks and looked at him with a 'you don't want to know' look. "Maybe next time, but I really appreciate it." Matilde gave a nod to the front. "Go to your team, celebrate the victory."

Christian padded her shoulder. "Have a good word with your team before leaving."

Matilde looked at him when he walked away. Of course, she would have a good word with her team. Her eyes shot to the podium, she clapped and smiled proudly when Carlos entered the podium, she was still satisfied with the result. It may not be the win they were hoping and aiming for and definitely not the position, but at least one of the Ferrari drivers ended up on the podium after a difficult battle. When Alonso entered the podium, she also clapped. As a supporter, she liked to see Alonso on the podium - she grew up watching him as one of the best on the grid. And then Max, she smiled again and clapped. She grew up with Max at Red Bull, they were close friends, and she was proud of him. The Dutch and Austrian anthems blew through the speakers; once, they were anthems, Matilde lived for.

After the ceremony, Matilde went to Carlos to congratulate him on the podium. They had a brief chat about the race and the slightly disappointing result. Matilde said she was still satisfied with his performance and how helpful he was to the team throughout the race. Then, she told him to go to the media pen for the interviews. Once she arrived in the paddock, she got stopped for an interview with Sky Sports Italy.

"Matilde, there was a dramatic moment when Carlos collided with Checo. Can you tell us something about it?"

Matilde's expression was serious. "The incident was unfortunate, especially in the position Sainz was racing in. He lost some positions, but he managed to make it up and ended up on the podium. We still have to talk about it during the debrief, so I can't share much."

The reporter then asked about the disastrous pit stop. "What happened? How did it go wrong? It seemed to create a lot of tension between you and Charles. Can you talk us through the moment?"

Matilde maintained her professionalism, but couldn't hide a glance of disappointment. "Unfortunately, I cannot give you a comment on it. That is something the team and I have to talk about first."

"But how did it go so wrong? Charles was leading the race, having an outstanding race, a fantastic weekend... And then this?"

"As I said, the team and I have to talk about it before we can share any thoughts," Matilde gave the people a nod and stepped away, not wanting to participate in the interview if they only wanted to talk about the pit stop.

She was forced to stop for another couple of interviews. She stayed professional and refused to share anything about the pit stop. Matilde returned to the hospitality and let out a deep sigh; it was the tension she was holding in. She ran both her hands through her hair; this was a disaster. The potential for the Monaco victory had been within reach, and it had slipped away. Matilde knew that as the team principal, she needed to remain composed and focused on the path forward, but in this private moment, she allowed herself to acknowledge the disappointment and frustration she felt.

She grabbed her stuff and joined everyone in the briefing room, waiting for Charles and Carlos. It was silent, an uncomfortable silence. A few minutes later, Carlos and Charles entered the briefing room. If looks could kill... They sat down next to their engineers.

The debrief started.

"Fire away," Matilde opened the debrief. She understood that the disappointment and frustration among the team needed to be addressed openly for progress to be made. People looked at her, not knowing what she meant. "Fire away," she repeated. "If something stays unspoken, it will lead to further issues. Speak, talk, share." She encouraged everyone to speak their minds.

Charles scoffed and looked away. He seemed sceptical and even dismissive of this approach. He questioned her seriousness. "Are you being serious?" He made eye contact and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

She met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Very much. We can only learn from this." They glanced at each other for some time.

He shook his head and looked away again. "My goodness. I just want to go through the race and go home," he mentioned.

Matilde took a deep breath and looked around the room. "Anyone else?" It stayed quiet. "Fine, let's begin then," she mumbled, knowing this would cause trouble in the near future.

People spoke about the race, and feedback was collected. Tension hung in the room. Everybody said what needed to be said, but not one word more. Matilde looked around, this team was everything but open to each other. She rubbed her face with her hands and looked outside for a brief second; she had to stay professional, but she was close to losing it. Did she fail as team principal or did... She was failing. When she looked back, she noticed Charles looking at her with a 'if looks could kill' and a disappointing look on his face.

They reached the pit stop during their conversation. The words about the pit stop were being rushed. On to the next part of the race.

"May I ask why you called for a pit stop?" Matilde asked Charles. She crossed her arms and leaned back on her chair. No one dared to ask it, so she would do it.

Charles licked his lips and raised his eyebrows.

"I am just trying to understand. Because you didn't show any errors or slow laps. In fact, your lap times were consistent."

"I saw an opportunity for the fastest lap," he casually replied.

"Where?" It was silent. "You didn't have a free pit stop, and Max was gaining time, but not enough to overtake you before the end of the race." Matilde leaned against the table again. "We told you multiple times not to come in. And what did you do? You come in. When I tell you to stay out, you stay out."

"I saw a gap."

"We did not."

"With all due respect, Matilde, I know what I felt in the car. I knew I had an opportunity, and it was taken away."

"I absolutely respect your passion for winning, and I, and if I may speak for the team, want nothing more than to see you win or to see Carlos win. We aim to be the best, be at the top of the podium as many times as possible, and bring a championship home to you both. However, the decision was made regarding this race with the team's best interests in mind. And I rely on your input, but also on everyone else's input within the team," Matilde spoke, hoping Charles would also understand her point of view on this race and the disaster.

"You don't trust me."

Matilde's eyebrows raised, and she looked at him with a confused but hurt face. "You came in seconds after I told everyone to abort the pit stop. You only mentioned you were in the pit lane when you were already in the pit lane. If you still decide to come in, be kind and tell us sooner next time."

"I did tell you!" Charles raised his voice. "Didn't you look at your monitors?"

"When I say to stay out, you stay out, and I trust you to stay out," Matilde mentioned, remaining calm. "What did you expect?" She waited for an answer. "You know why we told you no? Look at the results yourself."

"I saw an opportunity-"

"And we didn't!" She cut him off. "There was no need to stop. We could not afford to take the risk to pit. If there was no risk, you were more than welcome to come in and change your tyres, but there was no margin to do it. We wanted to go for the win, a safe win, to bring home a win," she responded, overruling his statement. "Even with a perfect pit stop, you still would not be able to pass Max. What was your goal in doing this?"

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

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skinandscales-if · 9 months ago

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S&S Anniversary

Today officially marks the 1 year anniversary of the demo release Skin & Scales! The first of many, I hope! I’m so very lucky and fortunate to have such cool people interested in my work, and I’m so delighted to see where the future takes us.

The story is still a baby, with much more to go, but I feel so honored to have built up exactly what the story sets out to create: community. You all have been an incredible part of this journey, and I could not be more grateful, especially to those who send me messages and take the time to interact, big or small. I want to do you justice, and I want to create the best product from everyone’s patience and love over this past year and onwards. This world and the characters have always been a welcome place to return to, and that’s thanks to you all. Thank you so much and here’s to more years to come. ❤️

To celebrate, here’s a little lore tease :)

BELOW IS THE WRITTEN TRANSCRIPT OF PRIVATE POLICE QUESTIONING. DO NOT REPLICATE.

REPORT BY OFFICER LEWIS BRANDY

SEND TO INSTITUTE IMMEDIATELY

DATE: 02/29/1990

QUESTIONS START 09:32

OFFICER BRANDY: Can you state your name for the record?

DARLING: Yes, of course. My name is Samantha Darling.

B: Great. Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Darling. I'd like to start by asking you a few questions regarding last night, the twenty-eighth of February.

DARLING: Ash Wednesday, yes.

B: That's actually what I'd like to start with. You’re a member of St. Cadoc’s Church in the western district, correct?

DARLING laughs.

DARLING: Yes, though I suppose that doesn’t matter too much anymore. I hadn’t visited in a while after the… new management.

B: Right. You were present at the incident, correct?

DARLING: That is correct.

B: Mind stating where you were in relation to the incident?

DARLING: I was checking in on a neighbor of mine down the street across from the church. I live in a small apartment a few blocks down, meaning I crossed by right as things got intense.

B: You saw the smoke?

DARLING: Easily. It hadn’t reached my house yet, but the smoke was already taller than all of the nearby buildings. It was… it was pretty horrible.

B: Understandable. I’d like for you to detail all that you saw when you arrived on the scene, Mrs. Darling. If you’re able.

DARLING: Of course. When I could see the ashes I pivoted from my street to get a better look, and by the time I could see other people, it was clear that the church was burning into nothing. It was… really hot, and pretty suffocating up close like that. But the fire didn’t look normal it was…

DARLING stops talking and folds her hands into her lap.

B: Blue.

DARLING: Blue. And hot white, but it wasn’t as significant to me at the time. It wasn’t like any other fires I had witnessed.

B: And what did you see around you?

DARLING: Around me? A handful of other folks, mostly shifters, all really scared and confused. I thought maybe one of them would know, but they were all either speechless or just as perplexed as me. It… it was pretty horrific to see, even if we didn’t hear screaming or anything.

B: Was anyone fleeing from the scene? Or anyone around looking suspicious?

DARLING: I… um… no? Not really? I wasn’t paying that much attention, but I saw shadows flickering in the fire, along with some noises from within. Not anyone who sounded hurt though.

B: Yes. And no one around you who saw anything either?

DARLING pauses.

DARLING: I didn’t ask…? It didn’t seem like it. We were all a bit preoccupied. I think someone ran to get a firefighter.

B pauses and shuffles his papers.

B: Right. You mentioned hearing noises inside the church, correct? Could you make any of it out?

DARLING: No. I thought it was just the fire at first, but then it sounded like… well it might sound odd, but it sounded like a conversation. Probably something closer to an argument. I might have heard a roar.

B doesn’t say anything right away. DARLING frowns then leans in a bit.

DARLING: I know Firespitters can withstand extreme heat longer than most but do you think there really could have been someone in *that*? I heard the priest perished in the fire, he may have been one of the voices inside, but I’d never been to a sermon of his. He was one of those, though.

B: Mrs. Darling, please remember I’m asking the questions here. This is a very intense case, and we are taking all possible precautions to make sure this can’t happen again. You understand that, right?

DARLING is quiet for a moment.

DARLING: Right. Yes. Sorry.

B: It’s alright. You’ve given us a lot of important information today, ma’am. Before we wrap up though, are you sure nothing else caught your eye?

DARLING goes quiet again.

DARLING: Well… I did see a larger man leaving right as I arrived. He didn’t look suspicious, he was helping a woman around his size leave the scene, but they traveled down a back alley before I could get a good look. I don’t think they were responsible though, I was worried they were hurt it looked like the woman-

B: Thank you for your time, Mrs. Darling.

DARLING straightens up.

DARLING: Ah- sorry?

B: You’ve given us a lot of valuable information today, ma’am, and the city thanks you for your service. It cannot be understated. Outside, we’ll just gather a quick survey of information in case we need to contact you again, but you are otherwise free to go.

DARLING: Oh- okay… alright, thank you for your time, Officer.

DARLING stands.

B: Be careful out there Mrs. Darling. Plenty of people who’d love to take advantage of the good folks in this city. Give us a call if you need it.

DARLING leaves.

QUESTIONS END 09:40

OFFICER NOTES: Follow up with Director about sent special forces. Include report on spotted witnesses. Question at further radius. Don’t press peculiarities.

#snippet #my art #S&S anniversary #twine #interactive fiction #I’m gonna try and not be a mess but seriously ty guys #luckiest guy alive fr ❤️#and there’s city lore or whatever #also I’m aware of the irony of posting this before chapter 2 #it’s closer to release than ever though!#likely next month. I will try and post something more official lol

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13scoupsoficecream · 1 year ago

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In The Universe Factory

Pair: Producer!Woozi x Girlfriend!Reader

Genre: Oneshot, Swearing, Smut minors DNI, Unprotected sex (please use protection irl), Idol au, Seventeen member Woozi, Describes female anatomy

Between you and Jihoon both your days off are different but you usually spend the day together no matter where you both are but, it sometimes can differentiate on your schedule that day. For example, last time you had a day off Seventeen had a comeback and Jihoon had a music show in the morning to attend, an interview to star in and, a going Seventeen episode to film that afternoon.

So, you did not spend it with him but, you had some great sex to help him get rid of the stress later that night. However, today is extremely fortunate because all Jihoon has scheduled is staying cooped up in the studio working on music and you decided to join him as it is cozy and like a second home from your shared apartment from the countless times you have both slept over here.

Right now, you are cuddled up in a fluffy blanket you bought to store here so you can stay warm as Jihoon likes the air conditioner on all the time in here, and from previous experience you had nearly froze your titties off and argued with him for an hour to turn the temperature up as your body lost feeling from the constant ice temperature against your skin.

Your phone battery died 2 minutes ago so your busy staring at the back of Jihoon’s head lost in space feeling a little aroused because you were busy watching thirst traps on TikTok his fans posted about him, and man were they great edits of him. However, blessed you had the real deal all to yourself so you could flex on his fans. Not actually as you are a kind person and would never do that.

Unless it is your cousin who would never shut up about him, when having the biggest crush on him, and never believed you when you came out saying you were dating Jihoon. Until you brought him back to your hometown to introduce him to your family. Let me just say you got eye daggers sent your way from your cousin that entire weekend you spent with the rest of your family.

The fortunate thing is she stopped ogling over him and chose a different Seventeen bias as it was a bit weird for her to crush on the man her cousin is dating. Coming back to reality where you are horny staring at your boyfriend who has his noise cancelling headphones on and you have a problem of wet underwear that only he can really help with.

You were being a bit shameless eye fucking him behind his back as he worked away but, you could not help but let your eyes trail along the veins that decorated his arms and take in his biceps that contracted every time he moved the mouse to rearrange vocal snippets he was recording in the sound booth earlier and, instrumental sounds that could work in a new song.

You stood up leaving the blanket behind and walked to him tapping his shoulder. He glanced your way but looked back at his computer monitor and kept working on what he was doing not bothering to ask why you tapped his shoulder. Being a bit frustrated with this you moved his hands and sat down on his lap placing your chin on his shoulder looking at the couch you were previously on.

There was a little height difference between the both of you so he could just look over your shoulder as you sat in his lap. He did not bother to protest from this as an incident from quite a while back lead to days of you ignoring him because, as you worded it, ‘he was being cruel for not letting you show your affection to him while he still gets to work.’

You were seated on him heavily as you wanted a bit of friction on your lower region as it was aching a bit from not being touched or delt with and it felt relieving getting what you wanted. When you had sat down one of his hands automatically was placed at the small of your back as a reflex so that you did not fall or anything like that.

You could feel his thumb tracing circles where his hand was mindlessly as he kept working and briefly stopped to ask you, “what you want baby?” You were a bit embarrassed to tell him straight up you were horny and wanted to ride his dick after watching short not so family friendly videos of him as you did not have the confidence for that.

“Just want to cuddle.” You replied lying through your teeth trying to prevent yourself from rolling your hips against his to feel him through his sweatpants. Key word being tried, but you could not hold yourself back as you are practically craving for him now as you were throbbing from not getting yourself any attention at all down there.

You started with one roll of the hips and did not get a response from Jihoon. So, you did it two more times for more friction only to feel the hand on your back grip you instead of softly tracing along your back. “Are you sure you just want to cuddle?” He asked, his full attention on you with his head turned and you hide your face in his shoulder in embarrassment.

You really thought he did not hear you when you replied earlier however, he proved that he did, but you did not forget to roll your hips again even when feeling embarrassed and a small mewl left your lips from how good it felt. “I just need a little attention.” You let out trying not to sound super needy as you start to feel him grow under you giving you the friction that was needed.

Your underwear was beyond wet and your vagina begging for more attention now as you had teased yourself with rubbing against Jihoon. “I am nearly done ___, give me a bit more time.” You were too out of it to comprehend what he was saying just focused on making yourself feel good on his lap feeling him turn rock hard underneath you.

He let out a groan in your ear frustrated as you did not listen to him and from being horny from you rubbing yourself up all on him. Your fists held the bottom of his shirt tightly, pulling it up wanting it removed to be able to get the both of you as close to each other’s flesh as possible, and to touch his body as it is as chiseled as a Greek God statue.

Woozi’s work was long forgotten now as he took his headphones off throwing them on the desk and having his attention completely on you as you both are now completely sexually frustrated from the constant rolling of your hips and now him responding as his lips were on yours. He quickly pulled off your shirt dropping it on the floor and immediately taking off your bra.

His lips travelled to your neck leaving his love marks on you with both of his hands placed on your breasts, fondling them giving each equal attention. Your pace of grinding down on him speeding up as you wanted more, needed more. Between gasps you let out, “please take it off.” You begged pulling up his shirt with one hand and the other rubbing up his toned abdomen underneath.

He let go of your breasts to pull his shirt off for you, leaving the both of you half naked now. You could get off to rubbing yourself on him, but you felt empty inside at that moment and needed him so bad. His hands were back to attend to your breasts not going downwards to help with where you really wanted him, leading you to whine out his name being tired of the teasing.

Your whines were shut up instantly with his lips on yours, but you managed to moan out his name between the sloppy kissing telling him to hurry. Your hands were now placed on his biceps feeling the amount of muscle they had, and your hips were speeding up as you felt your release catching up now while feeling his cock twitch through his pants telling you he is about to as well.

Before you both could get your release Woozi lifted you up easily and your arms instinctively wrapped around him so that you did not fall, feeling each muscle on his body contract carrying you back to the couch. You protested with noises as you lost your climax from him stopping both your actions just to move the both of you.

However, your complaining did not last long because you felt the soft material of the sofa on your back and your pants were removed by Jihoon letting your whole pussy be on show for him. You swore you heard him moan at the sight but did not pay much attention as you sat up practically ripping his sweatpants off him to get him naked.

The air conditioner on your skin cooled you down a little as your skin was burning hot from the adrenaline and the body heat of Jihoon. Once his pants were gone you pulled him closer wanting him in you quickly so you can chase back your high and cum already. Woozi did not bother with a condom as you both have had unprotected sex many times and you are on birth control.

Sometimes it is better to still stay protected but you trust each other enough, and right now you are both desperate for each other. Once Jihoon was close enough, he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in slowly and erotic moans escaped the both of you. A melody of them came from you especially after finally feeling him in you after craving him.

Without wasting a second, he started pump himself in and out of you. Now Jihoon is not that long but very girthy so he fills you up so well, an amazing stretch, and he can angle himself so well to rub himself up against your g-spot. That is exactly what he was doing right now hitting himself up against it making you moan even louder thanking the architect the studio is soundproof.

Your climax was catching up again as Woozi’s finger rubbed on your clit to stimulate you even further. Your moans got even higher pitched as you were so close to releasing and Jihoon’s hips slowed down making his thrust sloppier but deeper. “I’m so, so, so close baby.” You moaned out breathlessly as your about to come.

“Come - fuck - for me love.” He replied in your ear as euphoria passed through you as you came pulsing around his penis. From the tight squeeze you created when releasing, Jihoon also came following just behind you as you both collapsed down still connected. Beads of sweat exchanging on each other’s skin as he lay on top of you.

As you came out of your déjà vu, you looked down at your music producer lover whose face was placed between your breasts making you giggle a little. You put your hand on his hair and combed your fingers through it as he came down from his own high. “I want to stay like this, but I can’t.” He said while looking up at you staying still in the same spot.

You laughed a bit louder at his comment not really wanting him to get up, “No one is stopping you, are they?” You questioned, and he groaned placing his face back between your breasts, an obsession you would say he has. “Except for myself.” He mumbled but you still heard him and smiled hugging his head no longer petting it and pecking the top then letting go.

He sat up disconnecting himself from you and grabbing tissues conveniently on top of his desk helping you wipe yourself from the sticky mess between your legs. Once you were a little cleaned up, he helped you put your clothes back on and tucked you under your blanket in a different spot from where you both fucked so your clothes are not too dirty.

He looked at the wet spot where you both were originally connected at and sighed, “I am going to need to get this cleaned somehow before the boys come in tomorrow.” You giggled slipping into a groggy mind as sleep is slowly overcoming you, but you manage to say before falling asleep, “I will clean it later as repayment.” Woozi smiled at you lovingly and kissed your forehead.

He walked to his chair to finish off what he was doing earlier, before you redirected his plans, and you fell asleep comfortably on the sofa. Woozi would look back at your sleeping figure occasionally to get some inspiration from you even if you were sound asleep. You were just the person he needed, his comfort whether awake or asleep and his idea machine in the universe factory.

Word count: 2184

#woozi smut #woozi #woozi x reader #seventeen woozi #svt woozi #lee jihoon #smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #oneshot #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #svt

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projectbluearcadia · 8 months ago

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[P1] Film Worthy

NSFW Lucifer x F!MC Spice Rating - 2/4 KINDA SPICY

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

Just decided to run with this today, but pornography with plot = dinner. Story CW: Restraint; Whipping; Degradation

[ Story Premise: Lucifer falls asleep during the weekly family movie night, and upset that he did, insists on watching something else with you. He happens to pick something he'll never fall asleep to. ]

Wordcount - 1077

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

You feel Lucifer's head lean into yours, his breathing getting softer as he relaxed his weight more and more into you. You think about scolding him about falling asleep in the middle of a movie Levi had made such a passionate point of making everyone watch because it was "TSL's greatest movie", but you can't really blame him. He deserved the sleep, and far be it from you to stop him.

That said, it's become difficult for you to focus on the movie yourself when you're busy trying to keep him from slumping into you so hard that his weight is starting to shove you into Mammon. The white-haired idiot nearly gives his brother away, and you slap your hand over his mouth.

"Say nothing or I'll tell him about your secret rendez-vous," you mouth at him, and he quickly nods. You both pay attention to the movie, even as Levi takes that precise moment to look behind him suspiciously, and you quickly draw your hand over Lucifer's head, hoping Levi won't notice that his eyes are closed.

Fortunately, it seems like he's saved as Henry shouts something at the top of his lungs, and Levi snaps his head back to watch. Nice save, Henry!

Fortunately, the rest of the movie goes without incident, and you just barely manage to cover for him when it ends by saying he fell asleep during the credit roll.

"Luci... C'mon, let's get you to bed," you urge gently as everyone leaves to go to their rooms, but he's out cold. "Lucifer, honey, my head isn't a pillow."

"Mmm..." he hums in his sleep, and you sigh with a little smile.

"Alright, fine, we'll stay here," you concede, carefully pulling the rest of him onto the couch before you lower his head to your lap. "You're lucky you're cute." You ruffle his soft hair, watching his sleeping face as he mumbles nonsense. You yawn yourself "Mm... Guess I'll try to get a siesta too..."

It's just as you're starting to fade in and out of consciousness that Lucifer stirs, and you blink a few times as he sits up and cracks his back with a satisfying yet slightly worrying series of snaps.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Lucifer asks, cupping your cheek. "I didn't want to waste movie night sleeping..."

"It's okay if you get sleepy, Lucifer..."

"But I wanted to enjoy it with you. We haven't spent any time together this week," he protests, and you can't help but chuckle a little because he sounds whiny.

"Want to watch something shorter then, so you don't feel left out?" you ask sleepily, "before we go to bed?" He grins like a boy, and you ignorantly wonder what he's thinking about.

"Something we can only watch together," he adds mischievously. "Let's make it special."

"Sounds like you already have something in mind," you reply, and his blue magic wisps through the darkened room to reveal a... rather interesting DVD in his hand. "Where on earth were you keeping that?"

"There are places in this house that I keep a very good secret of, including my collection of, shall we say, some very erotic theater?"

"That is not theater," you laugh, "and certainly not the kind you normally enjoy."

"Well, I do pick them for story and acting skills above all else, but... I won't lie when I say that similar stories didn't make the cut because they weren't explicit enough for my tastes."

"You are such a pervert," you giggle, and he pokes you in the sides, tickling you while you do so.

"Oh, like you aren't, little Miss Smut? You and Satan go through those dirty fantasies like they're just a bit of light reading before bed."

"Okay, okay, stop it!" you gasp through your giggles. "Just put it on!"

"Your wish is my command," he replies with a cocky smirk before he turns the television back on and loads the disk-drive, a nostalgic hum wavering through the air as the information was read. Lucifer excitedly pulls you into his lap, kissing the back of your head as he presses play.

To some of your surprise, the plot is genuinely interesting; the female lead is a serial adulterer with complicated reasons for cheating, and the male lead had been divorced twice by the same awful woman. Of course, that made him hardened and cynical, and it made her a pathological liar.

Which of course would lead to a very intense scene where he slammed her against the wall, hungrily digging his fingers into both her throat as well as her inner thigh when he asked her if she was trying to play with him.

"O-Oh," you say, shifting on Lucifer's lap as you watch the male lead tease her with the handle of a whip while he covered her eyes. It was made clear to the only the audience that he knew she was lying to him as he told her to guess what he was going to do to her. And the reality dawning on her face as he thrusted the handle into her, letting her feel the whip against her legs.

"Want me to do that, honey?" Lucifer asks sweetly against your ear as he ties her up and degrades her while she begs for him. Begging and begging for him to put it into her, and your mouth falls open at the look on her face.

You raise your hands to your lips, feeling your face warm as you watch him, frustrated, pound at her. You've barely even registered Lucifer's question; you're too busy biting your lip at the curious woman squeezing her legs together at the door, her fingers shudderingly hovering on the handle like she wanted the scolding that the male lead was dishing out.

"Holy shit..." you whisper, even as Lucifer traces his lips down your neck. The entire scene wasn't just dirty; it was believable. The tension was so thick with jumbled emotions of lust, love, shame and anger that it was practically sitting in the room with you.

"Do you really want it that rough?" Lucifer chuckles against your shoulder, running his fingers up against your waist, breaking your concentration in the process.

"I, um... I don't think I can take that..."

"Relax; I was teasing," he chuckles, nursing his hand through your hair. "You don't have to sound so anxious. I'm not going to do anything you don't give me the go-ahead for."

#convinced the avatar of consent cares #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fanfiction #obey me!#shameless self indulgence #obey me lucifer smut #obey me #lucifer brainrot #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #movie night #netflix and chill

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justrainandcoffee · 7 months ago

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“When you wear nothing at all” (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Alfie x Rose masterlist

Summary: After her birthday party, a masquerade that Alfie organised without her knowledge, the couple is resting alone in their house. A piece of cake and sweet words it's all they need to share. Of course, she notices that he's still wearing his mask and she knows why: the mask is a perfect excuse to cover his scar. But Rose also knows how to make him feel better "You know, Al? I like you more when you wear nothing at all."

Warnings: None. Although some things could be a bit suggestive but it's almost nothing.

Words: 1.7 k || I wanted to post this last night, but I couldn't.

1928

The party is over. The guests left Margate and only the owners of the house remained now.

Rose is sitting on Alfie, resting her sore feet on the armrest of the couch where both are. The shoes are somewhere between the entrance of the house and the living room. On her lap there's a slice of cake that both are sharing. Their daughter went with her uncle Samuel to sleep in his house, giving them the chance to be alone.

"Open," she says with the fork near his mouth, offering him a bit of it, he accepted it. "I didn't tell you but this is delicious, Al," Rose adds looking at him.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I'm glad you liked it."

"Everything you organized today for me was perfect, you didn't have to."

"No, maybe, but you deserved it, luv."

Alfie knows that he couldn't do it without her. Not just now, but always. Rose is the most important woman in his life. The only one in fact. And that party wasn't enough to compensate all the things she did for him.

In that living room only illuminated by the moonlight, the couple find a moment of peace.

"You know," she says looking at Alfie before eating another piece of cake. "I like you more when you wear nothing at all."

Her husband chuckled, misinterpreting her words "that's for later, Rosie."

She smiles at well "I'm not referring to that, Al. But to this."

With her finger, she touches the mask that he's still wearing. "Just this. Why are you still wearing it?"

"I like it and it cost several hundred pounds. I want to use it as long as possible."

The mask is indeed beautiful. It's gold plated and even has little gems on it. Alfie ordered two in one of the most exclusive jewelry shop in London. One it was for her and the other for him.

But Rose knows there's another reason. Since the attempted murder by Thomas Shelby, that fortunately cost him only his eyesight in one of his eyes and a scar on his cheek, something in him changed. The hats that he wears now are bigger than in previous times and if they decided to go out, he always preferred the nighttime. She understood, people were always judging. But not her, much less to him.

"Okay," she says kissing his other cheek.

Rose puts the empty plate on the floor and rests her head on his chest. Alfie embraces her tightly at the same time that she relaxes against him.

It's summer already, it's more than midnight and the calendar says that it's already 21th of June. The summer solstice.

Alfie partly believes in magic, he has to believe because his prophetic dreams aren't infrequently and sometimes are quite accurate. So he knows that his wife was born exactly when she had to. Because she's warm and radiant like the sunlight in spring but not suffocating like the summer sun. Sometimes, when he's sitting exactly where he is now and he sees Rose walking around the house, back and forth, and her dress following her movements, he can't help but think that she looks like a butterfly flying over a garden. A grumpy butterfly, but a very nice one.

And that's his Rosie, so different from him. Especially since the incident with Tommy, she's a being full of life and he feels that he lost part of it.

No party is enough for her, neither is an expensive mask and, sometimes, Alfie believes that not even him is enough for her.

"I love you," she says snuggling up and planting a little kiss on his neck.

"I love you too, pet."

"Let me see you," she says, trying to untie his mask but he moves his head back. "I see you every day and night. Why can't I now?"

"It'll break the magic, luv."

Rose giggles, "what are you talking about?"

"The magic trick where I'm the same as ever."

"You're the same as ever."

"I'm not. But I can pretend. Tonight no one stared at me like I was a fucking freak. Everyone was wearing masks and so I was, so I was one of them, too."

"They're our friends, Al. No one of them would stare at you like you think. It's in your head, Alfie. Not true."

Alfie isn't sure. It's true they were their friends but… The scar is that part of Alfie that he couldn't make amends with himself.

"If you take your mask off, I take my dress off. Come on, Solomons. I didn't show you my gratitude for the birthday party but I can start now."

"You're bribing me, sweetheart."

"How dare you?!" Rose leaves her spot on his legs and stood up. "It's business. You're a businessman, I'm a businesswoman. One thing for another. It's fair… the beach is waiting us, Solomons. This time the two of us alone."

Alfie watches her unzipping her own dress as she looks at him over her already bare shoulder. Her mischievous smile appears in her face before she starts to down the stairs and Alfie can't help but mimick her.

"Fuckin' 'ell…"

She's quicker than him. Far away in time were the days when he was the faster of the two of them, but he doesn't mind. Alfie goes after her and when he reaches the back door, he sees her in the seashore. The black dress she was wearing is now over the sand, like it is part of the landscape.

She's wearing nothing but her panties now. From the distance he can see the curves of her body, that one that he knows so well.

Alfie can't remember the moment he took off his mask, nor his shoes. Next time he's conscious of his actions is when his arms finally find her waist again. He starts to kiss her neck, as his hands go where only he can explore.

"Did you take it off?" she's not watching at him. Her eyes were on the sea when she hugged her from behind. And now are closed, feeling him.

"I did. You know how to convince me, luv. And how to make my ghosts go away."

She turns around and put a hand on his face, her thumb is caressing his scar with tenderness. Alfie his hands are on her hips and he leans in to kiss her. If any demon is trying to get in his head now, it's impossible because in his mind is only her.

Maybe he's not faster as he used to be, but he's still stronger than her and that's not going to change. Easily he picks her up and both end lying on the sand, one over the other.

"I like you more when you wear nothing at all," he says throwing away the last piece of clothing that she was wearing. His cocky smile is decorating his face and it makes her laugh. Both of them kiss again.

It's good that the beach is their private spot in the world because soon he's naked as she is. They know they're alone, especially at those hours and and during a night that it's far from being warm, but that apparently they don't mind.

The beach is quiet except for the sound of the waves and the words he's whispering in her ear. Rose is his arms now, after the moment they shared together.

"I love you," he says once more.

"Me too, Al. And to me you're the most perfect man on Earth. As always. I don't care about this," she says touching his face once again. "Besides, it gives you that appearance of bad boy."

He lets out a laugh that could be heard across the empty beach "bad boy, eh? Ya like that, ain't you?"

"Do you want me to lie?," she pushes herself away from him a bit, "I have sand in every part of my body and I need a hot bath. Let's go inside so I can show you how much I love bad boys."

"Again?" he props on his elbow to look at her who's already on her feet. Alfie is still smirking.

"The night is young, my love. And I deserve a second gift."

She winks at him and waving her hips, Rose starts to walk towards their house again. The woman can hear his footsteps behind her and smiles.

Maybe it's still her birthday night, but it's Alfie, apparently, who's going to get another present from her.

And for her, his happiness, is the best thing she can receive.

#alfie x rose #alfie solomons #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #tom hardy #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic

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thechaoticdruid · 11 months ago

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[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (3)

Pairing: Astarion (s) x Tav

Plot: We get a look at Ascended Astarion and M! Tav's complicated past. Meanwhile in F!Tav's world, she has a close call with The Vampire Ascendant himself all the while Spawn Astarion and Karlach prepare to attack the Crimson palace.

Content/Warnings: MDNI, THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! M/m smut, oral and anal sex, I'll put some little red diving lines so you can skip it because it's not TOO important to the plot, but I just thought since y'all have been waiting forever for the next part I might as well treat you. Both a male and female Tav, alternate timeline shenanigans, Ascended Astarion is a toxic asshole as usual, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, threats, etc, slight choking, there's also a lot of blood and gore in this part, lots of violence and action.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

The Spawn Vs Tav Vs The Ascendant

[Savegame 2: Somewhere, A year post game]

Tav let out a sigh as he felt a cool breeze hit his face, the scent of the forest washing over his heightened senses. He could smell the blood of a deer who was leaping through the grass. He turned his head to look at it, tongue flicking over his newfound fangs. It had only been a year since his undeath, but everything had already changed so much.

The young vampire had finally convinced his master to allow him to travel outside of Baldur's Gate. Tav needed to get away from the city so he could enjoy the comforts of nature once again even though many of his fellow druids would sneer at what he'd become. An undead abomination. He was able to convince The Vampire Ascendant to allow him to leave their city, insisting that this would be a romantic getaway for the two of them.

They had left Baldur's Gate and used the fortune they acquired to purchase a lovely little holiday home on an island off the Sword Coast.

Their villa sat on the border of the ocean shore and the luscious woodlands that stood behind it.

Tav sat crisscrossed in the sand, the warmth of the sun danced up on his skin. He was quite fortunate to still be able to enjoy it, given what he was.

“Little Love, what are you doing out here alone?” His master's voice purred out.

“Just enjoying the peace.” Tav replied calmly. He didn't feel like looking his master in the eyes. Things had been distant between them now. Tav did his best to try and keep Astarion from turning Baldur's Gate into a slaughterhouse, but occasionally he slipped up, like with the incident at Sharess's Caress.

There were so many days he wished he could just go back and convince his love not to go through with the ritual. Then maybe the warmth they once shared wouldn't have gone out. But he'd been terrified at the time. They both had. Astarion was afraid of losing his freedom. And Tav was afraid so desperately afraid of losing him. If only he'd known he would have lost him anyway.

Now Astarion was the worst version of himself, all of his darkness let loose for the entire world to see. And Tav was merely a plaything that he refused to give up. The vampling’s red eyes blinked as his master’s clawed finger tilted his chin up to look at him.

“Pet, you know I don't like when you avoid me. It makes me so very unhappy.” The Ascendant pouted, making a painfully fake sad face. It made Tav’s blood boil. Tav jerked his head away from his master's touch.

“I am at your side day and night. You sit me on your lap every day like a glorified pup for all your guests to see. Am I not even entitled to my own space just for a moment!?” Tav suddenly snapped, fangs bared as he narrowed his eyes.

“You're the one who suggested this ‘romantic getaway’ and now you have the audacity to accuse me of not giving you space!? How dare you! You ungrateful little wretch!” Astarion snarled at him. “If you want your fucking space so badly I can arrange a nice dark cell for you back at the palace.” His master threatened.

“No….I-I…Please….I'm sorry!” Tav's face suddenly filled with fear. “….I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” Tav grabbed hold of Astarion’s leg, his head hung as he begged. Astarion glared down at him, his expression unimpressed.

“You will make this up to me.” Astarion tilted Tav’s chin back up.

“Yes. I will….I promise…” Tav nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Appeasing his master had become a regular routine of Tav's. He pretty much had it down to a science. Beg, grovel, flatter, pleasure, usually one or a combination of them would do the trick to calm the beast. Funny how Astarion seemingly had no regrets about turning Tav into the very thing he despised being for so many years.

The only saving grace was Astarion was far too possessive to share Tav’s body with anyone else.

“I love you Tav. I can't fathom why you're determined to make things so difficult between us.” Astarion pushed Tav down on the bed with one hand. The spawn frowned. His master's words felt empty despite how much Astarion may have believed them himself; there was little proof to back them up. Tav removed his shirt, deciding it would be best to just give in and lose himself in pleasure if only for a little while. He slid down his trousers and drawers, completely exposing himself in front of the other male.

Astarion lifted his own shirt up and over his head before discarding it to the side. He then climbed onto the bed and slowly straddled his spawn. He leaned down, getting very close.

“Kiss me.” He ordered. Tav leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion's, wrapped his arms around his neck as his master began to grind himself against Tav's unclothed groin.

Tav moaned against Astarion's lips, letting the vampire lord slip his tongue inside. Astarion tastes Tav’s mouth, the flavors of wine and blood intertwining as their tongues dance. Astarion pulls back and pins Tav’s wrists above his head before slowly shifting down and licking the spawn’s nipples.

“A-Astarion!” Tav let out a whine, feeling the elven male teasing his sensitive buds, grazing them with his fangs all the while grinding himself down against Tav's hardening member. Astarion began to nibble and suck his way down Tav's body leaving a trail of bright red hickies as he went.

Astarion moved back, hand grasping Tav's cock as he licked his lips, looking down at his pet’s leaking tip.

“So hard for me already?~” Astarion teased gently, squeezing Tav’s length as he pumped it back and forth in his hand.

“Ngh!” Tav groaned and dug his claws into the bed. Astarion leaned down to lick up the precum dribbling down from Tav's tip, before slowly proceeding to begin sucking the younger man’s cock into his mouth. Tav's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his master swallow his length with ease. Astarion’s hand moved to grab hold and massage Tav's balls as he bobbed his head.

Tav groaned and panted, resisting the urge to thrust into his master's mouth lest he gets punished for it like last time. Astarion pulled back with wet pop before rubbing Tav's cock a few more times and dropping his own trousers.

Tav's red eyes trail over his lover’s body as the silver haired male began to suck his fingers into his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva before he reached behind himself and stuck two fingers up his ass.

“Ahh…Ahh…” Astarion moaned, pumping his fingers in and out. Tav bit his lips, he could feel himself twitch at the sound of his master's moans.

Gods it sounded so heavenly. The pale elf continued to prepare himself scissoring before then shoving his middle finger in knuckle deep.

Once he was ready, he shifted over Tav's cock, grasping it and slowly guiding the tip to his hole.

Astarion lets out a low moan, an open mouth smirk forming on his face as he sits down, taking the spawn's cock deep inside.

“G-Gods….” Tav gasped, feeling his lover clench tightly around him. Astarion stared down at Tav, a pleased look appeared on his face as he noticed his pet squirming under him. Tav reached over to grab Astarion's hips, but the vampire lord stopped, gripping his hands.

“Tut, tut, tut, bad boy. You don't get to touch me.” Astarion clicked his tongue. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” He ordered, before releasing him and placing his hands on Tav's chest. Slowly he began to move up and down, sliding Tav’s cock in and out of his ass.

“A-Astarion….” Tav whimpered, his nails gripping the sheets as Astarion kept up the same pace, bouncing on top of him. He eventually began to move up slowly before quickly slamming his ass back down on Tav's hips, making a satisfying slap sound and causing Tav to squeak in surprise.

“Mmmm…..You feel good inside me…” He lets out a breathy side before moving up and slamming back down. He could feel Tav's cock leaking, coating his insides, it made movement much easier. Astarion began to pick up his pace repeatedly slamming down on Tav with enough force that it almost felt like he was about to break his pelvis!

“Please…I..ahhh!” Tav cried out, looking up at his master with pleading eyes as his cock began twitching inside of him.

“What is it, pet? Do you want to move, hm?” Astarion pushed down hard against his lover, taking him in deep. He bit his lip, smirking down at Tav. “I…. might let you…” He said, playfully taking hold of Tav’s nipples and tugging on them.

“A-Ahh!” The spawn cried out.

“Say you're mine.” He said. Tav groaned as Astarion slowed his movement, hips sliding up and down at a much slower pace, the room was almost silent aside from the slick wet sound of Astarion riding Tav's weeping cock.

“Say you're mine.” The Ascendant repeated. There was no compulsion, no glow of red eyes, no force. Astarion wanted Tav to say it all on his own.

“I…I…I'm yours…” Tav breathed out, making his master grin widely.

“Again.” Astarion slammed himself down on Tav.

“I'm yours!” Tav said more confidently.

“Good boy! ~ You may move…mmm…” As soon as Astarion gave him permission Tav began to buck his hips upwards, cock repeatedly plunging up into his master's asshole. Astarion rode Tav in time, masterfully matching his pace. He grabbed hold of the back of his spawn's head, gripping his hair as he pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. It took little time from there for Tav to reach his peak, especially with his master's ass threatening to break him.

The two of them relaxed for a while shortly afterwards until eventually Astarion had Tav pinned face down in the pillows, balls deep in his ass. However, the second round was eventually cut short by a disturbance in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW-END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Masters! Masters!” A charmed servant called beating on the door to their bedroom. His face was full of fear, hands shaky.

There was some muttering, and scuffling coming from the other end of the door, before eventually it opened revealing Astarion shirtless in only his pants. Tav laid on the bed behind him, only a sheet covering his dazed form as he panted, body covered in his master's love bites.

“What the hells do you want!?” Astarion snapped, very annoyed by the interruption.

“M-My lord! Theres a-a…It's t-terrible.. I-I….” The poor terrified man.

“You have ten seconds to speak before I splatter your innards all over the floor.” The sliver haired vampire lord hissed out.

“M-Monster hunters! T-They're on the island! They're harassing the locals and burning down their homes in hopes to find you, master!”

“Determined little shits, aren't they? I don't quite care what happens to the peasants on this little speck of land, but they do pay me rent so...”Astarion sighed in annoyance.

“We have to help them.” Tav said, putting his clothes on and fixing his hair.

“Oh, not this again! You know your little hero act gets so tiresome, love.” Astarion rolled his eyes, “protect the cattle if you must, but my only concern will be slaughtering these vagabonds for even thinking about setting foot on my property.”

Tav kept quiet but glared at him harshly. The way he talked about the people on this island honestly made Tav's stomach turn.

“As you wish, master.” Tav said coldly, the title spoken with pure disgust. Astarion glanced back at Tav with a surprised look. Tav had never addressed Astarion as ‘master’ before. Astarion, despite all his arrogance, pride, and determination to remind Tav who he belonged to on a regular basis, had never once compelled or ordered him to to refer to himself as such. Mostly because the way Tav had always said the vampire lord’s name had been music to his pointed ears. Astarion quickly brushed off these sickening feelings. He was not weak any longer. Such sentimentalities were beneath him.

“Hmm…Perhaps I should put their heads on spikes, leave some of them impaled out in the fields to send a message to any of their brethren.” Astarion chuckled darkly. His ruby red eyes glanced back over at Tav who refused to look him in the eyes. It felt infuriating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roads ran red with blood, houses shot up in a blaze and a mother ran across the scene, desperately dragging her children along with her. Tav and Astarion slowly approached the chaos. Complete and utter horror flashed over the vampire spawn’s face. His undead heart breaks to pieces at the site of villagers being slaughtered all for the sake of killing two vampires.

“This chaos has to end Magnus!” An elven woman shouted at a human man. Both of them appeared to be amongst the monster hunters.

“There are children on this island for fucks sake!”

“They had their chance! These people are servants to the undead! They will suffer the same fate as their masters!!!”

“My love, please!” She begged, getting on her knees. “These people did not kill your brother! They're not in control of their minds! It's the vampire’s doing! You must forgive them!”

“Osha…I-I…” The man suddenly froze. He coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth before suddenly he fell flat on his face. Blood leaked from an open wound in his back as he laid in the dirt.

“MAGNUS!!!!” The elven woman shrieked in horror.

The silver haired vampire lord stood behind the man's corpse, a wicked grin as he held Magnus’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. He slowly crushed it right in front of the elven woman, the blood dripping through his fingers before he licked them clean.

“Mm…Not bad.” Astarion purred.

“You…. YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Osha screeched. Astarion looked back at her slightly amused.

“Oh, was that what he was? Apologies, he was making a mess of my things.” The Vampire Ascendant merely chuckled.

“I'll…. I'll KILL YOU!!” Osha screamed, grabbing hold of a wooden stake from her dead husband's body and rushing for Astarion head on. But before she could even make contact Tav moved in front of her and kicked her away with enough force to send her flying into one of the houses. Tav huffed before looking around at the villagers who were utterly terrified. Astarion blinked and looked back at Tav, a slight warmth flashing through his eyes.

He still loves me….

Before Astarion could say a word Tav ran off, unsheathing scimitars from his back and cutting down any monster hunter who dared to try and stop him. The elven monster hunter’s eyes follow him as she lays on the ground, seemingly broken and lifeless.

“Glacious!” He shouted, shooting an ice knife right at the nearby burning building before kicking his way through the door.

“Everyone out now!” He ordered. A mother pushed her daughters through the door.

“My son! He's still in his crib!” She cried and pointed over to a blocked door.

Tav quickly pushed past her and smashed his way through the blocked off door with vampiric strength. He quickly charged in and scooped up the baby boy, thanking the gods he didn't need to breathe any longer. Tav quickly came back out and handed the woman her baby.

“Thank you, my lord, thank you!” The woman said, tearing up. Tav gave a small smile before suddenly he heard the sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby. Tav rushed over to the scene. It was yet another smoking home.

“Glacious!” He shot another ice knife at the fire in order to put it out. Tav quickly rushed over, a look of confusion covered his face as he noticed the front door had already been open.

Inside was a little half elf girl with long curly blonde hair. The child knelt down by some debris, crying as a pair of motionless legs poked out from under it. Shaky sobs left her mouth as Tav moved closer.

“Come on darling, we need to get you out of here.” Tav said, kneeling down beside her.

“I'm not leaving without my momma!” She snapped; eyes puffy as she broke down into another fit of sobs. Tav shushed the child before placing a comforting hand in her hair and pulling her into a hug.

“It's not safe here, little one.” Tav said, “where is your papa?”

“He got sick a long time ago….He went to sleep and n-never woke up….” She sniffed.

“Come with me and I'll take you somewhere safe and we'll get you something to eat.” Tav eventually was able to convince the little girl to follow after him. He took her by the hand and guided her out of the house.

“What's your name sweetie?” Tav asked as he led her back through the village. He made sure to steer her away from the sight of any corpses in hopes to keep from terrifying the poor little thing.

“I'm Abigail.” She said softly, “momma used to always call me Abby.”

“Abigail is a beautiful name.” Tav smiled softly. He then suddenly heard footsteps and turned to see Astarion approaching.

“There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to.” Tav’s master licked over the edge of his mouth, a little bit of blood dribbling down his chin. “And what's this? Have you brought me a snack?” Tav glared at the other male before protectively standing in front of the small child.

“No. Stay away from her Astarion.” Tav said sternly.

Astarion clicked his tongue, “lighten up. It was only a joke. Gods.” The pale elf sauntered over to his beloved spawn, glancing over his shoulder without a care.

“Pretty little thing…Perhaps this is just what we need.” Astarion smirked, an idea began to form in his mind. Tav's eyes widened, he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Astarion no! I'm taking her to an orphanage.”

“Love, don't be ridiculous. Think about how much better off she'd be with us as her fathers.” Astarion took hold of Tav's chin and made the shorter male look up at him. “Isn't that what you want? To have a family with me…?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save game 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace.]

Tav bit her lip, holding back a whimper as gripped the wooden comb tightly in her hand. She needed to move fast before the vampire lord drank enough to weaken her. She held the comb high, preparing to plunge it down into his heart from behind but before she could make contact she felt a tight grip around her wrist. Her lover's look alike pulled back from her neck, his blood stained lips forming a frown.

“Trying to kill me already are we? Pity.” His grip around her wrist tightened, threatening to bruise. Tav whimpered, dropping the comb from hand and letting it clatter into the floor below.

“You honestly thought that dull piece of wood would actually stab me!? Ha! Desperation doesn't suit you my dear.” The vampire releases her wrist only to grasp her throat, not as tightly, but still firm enough to make her worry. “I don't want to hurt you darling, but I cannot have you misbehaving.”

“Let me go!” Tav shouted as Astarion stood, yanking her up by the collar around her neck. The Vampire Ascendant seemed to be keeping himself rather composed despite Tav's attempt on his life.

“Oh, I will, you'll go right down into the dungeon to think about what you've done.” Astarion hissed, dragging her out of the study. “Honestly, how can you be so ungrateful! I am giving you everything you could ever want!”

Tav screamed and fought as she was dragged down the hall like wild cat, eventually her survival instincts kicked in and she slung her head around and sank her teeth right down onto the vampire lord’s groin.

“FUCK!” He shouted and crippled down in pain, releasing his grip and Tav and allowing her to turn tail and run like her life depended on it. She darted through a door and quickly down the hall, spotting that strange half-elf girl, Abigail staring at her as she passed.

I need to get this godsdamned collar off of me!

Tav fled further into the palace hearing some footsteps as she came closer towards the ballroom. Swiftly she climbed into a wardrobe off to the side and closed the doors. Peaking out through the cracks as two figures approached. A glowing red eyed Shadowheart and Lae'zel entered the hallway.

“Source of my bruises, are you still in pain?” Lae'zel spoke up, placing her hand on the other female’s cheek. Shadowheart simply shook her head. It appeared the wounds their master inflicted on her had already healed. Tav calmed her breathing, hoping neither of them would detect her presence here. Thankfully however the two of them appeared more concerned with one another. Eventually the two of them walked off, leaving Tav to let out a long sigh of relief.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save Game 1: Act 3, Upper City.]

“Ooh looks like he's called some guard dogs to do his bidding.” Karlach said as she and Astarion stood onto one the of the nearby buildings adjacent to Cazador’s old palace.

“What is up with evil arseholes and always refusing to get their hands dirty?” Karlach huffed as she peeked down below.

“They’d claim It's beneath them, but truthfully it's all over calculated foolish paranoia.” Astarion looked over the side of the roof, eyes trailing over the large werewolves that stocked over the grounds.

“Does he honestly believe no one is going notice all his pets running around?”

“Well this is technically you we're talking about….What do you think?” Karlach asked.

“I would never have been this stupid! Perhaps overconfident, but this it just ridiculous!”

“Hmm…Maybe he just doesn't care if anyone sees them.” Karlach hummed, “oh wait did you remember to bring the bomb arrows?”

“Naturally.” Astarion smirked, pulling out an arrow and notching it slowly.

“Hells yes! Let's blow these fuckers up!” The tiefling cheered. Astarion quickly shot an arrow which flew through the air hitting one of the wolves right between the eyes. It exploded upon impact, splattering brains, blood and pieces of skull over the cobblestones.

“Gross. Do it again!” The tiefling barbarian’s tail swatted back and forth, eyes locked on the chaos below. The vampire spawn quickly notched another arrow and hit another wolf sending bloody severed limbs flying all over the streets. He then proceeded to shoot a couple more, clearing out the frontline security.

“That should give the others an opportunity to rush the front door. Now we just sneak in through the roof.” Astarion explained.

“Got it! Leave it to mama K!” The barbarian grinned before looking back at Astarion.

“Oh no, whatever you're thinking-”

“No time! We need to get in there and save Tav!” The fiery devil insisted before grabbing hold of the smaller elf, throwing his long slender body over her muscular shoulder.

“Karlach! Gods-dammit! Put me down this instant!” The little vampire hissed.

“We're coming, Tav!” She exclaimed, before backing up and rushing over the building leaping across the sky while Astarion clung to her wide eyed, fingernails digging into her like a scared cat.

The vampire Ascendant never would have guessed his windows would have been shattered by a big red beefy barbarian lady and a cat-like rogue, but here we are.

Note From TheChaoticDruid: I am so sorry for the for the wait! Honestly, I didn't really feel like too many people were invested in this story and 'This Bites' had really become my main focus multi-part fanfic wise. I'm hoping to finish up this story in about two more parts. The Spawn and the Ascendant WILL start showing down next part. Also, I usually don't add a little divider for my smut, but I felt like I just randomly decided there was going to be smut in this part (kinda spur of the moment thing), so I added the Nsfw heads up in case someone reading was not ready for it in this story. Please leave a comment or a reblog down below it really helps motivate me to write! See you guys next time!

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