#we were like ‘fighting’ and he just goes

[trashytracktales]

Love the Lando fic. I am soooo desperate for a really smutty Max fic. He’s been feeling down that he hasn’t been winning and his best friend jokes she’ll give him head if he wins the sprint in Austin. You can guess the rest. I really in some need for friends to lovers smut

So we ride | MV¹

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

© trashy track tales, 2024

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for loving my previous work!! I hope you like this one as much 🤍🎀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── She’s been there for him even before his career in F1 took off. And now that Max is struggling, there’s no other place she’d rather be than beside him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Max Verstappen x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, smut, descriptive language & descriptive paragraphs (because I can't stop yapping), mature/sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, Filthy Mouth Max, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.4k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 4, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I swear I planned to make an absolute filth out of this one, but somehow, I low-key ended up giggling and kicking my feet by the end. Nice 👌🏻

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE DISTANT CHEERS still reverberate faintly from the paddock as she waits by herself in Max's room.

She has no idea why she's suddenly nervous. It's just Max. Her Max. Her best friend.

She's been in his driver's room countless of times before, but something has shifted. The energy is charged, somehow, with the weight of everything that’s changed between them over the past month. He’s been making more effort to be in her life, but even though she thinks he does it only because he needs a break from his hectic life, she's not complaining. Quite the opposite.

They’ve been talking day and night, sharing calls and endless text conversations. Every message, every call, and every laugh they’ve shared has pulled them closer, blurring the lines that they’d always kept so carefully intact.

Memories creep in like old songs she can't stop replaying in her head while she rests in the small space that smells like him — a delicious, subtle scent that lingers wherever he goes, a clean mix of sandalwood and a hint of leather from his racing gear, with just a trace of something so uniquely Max.

Without having the privilege to stop her mind, she lets it wander to the first time they met, long before Max secured his seat in Formula 1. Even though he was only a teenager at that time, he was ferocious and resilient, and anybody could see the determination behind his eyes, to the point it was almost impossible to turn and look away.

At least that's how she remembers him.

From that day on, she’d been there for every milestone. Every point earned, every setback, every win, every lose, every title, every new girlfriend, and every break-up. She never questioned him, even when others criticized his aggression on track and his obsessive desire to win. She was aware that he had a cause to fight for and a lot to prove. And she understood that in a way that Max had told her no one else did.

She knows him better than anyone. Maybe because they go so far back. Or because he trusted her enough be unapologetically himself around her. They had always had a tight bond and, at some point, they ended up giving in to temptation. They were each other’s first, and even though both of them were so bad at it, that moment still remains until this day a mix of curiosity and comfort that neither of them had found elsewhere.

But they were young and very much not in love, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in the process. It made more sense to stay friends, because when it comes to relationships, timing is everything. He was going to be away all the time, and she couldn't wait for him — not that he would have ever let her do that. Max Verstappen is selfish in every aspect of the word, especially when it comes to the people he cares about, and she has always been his soft spot.

Being far too deep in thought, she barely hears the door open, flinching slightly as Max storms in, a tight smile plastered on his face.

“You’re here?” he asks in surprise, the second he sees her laying on the two-seater couch.

The first thing he notices is a papaya orange cap, and a Red Bull jersey that she stole from him two seasons ago, neatly tucked into her black skirt.

“Well, you won,” she shrugs, articulating her words, thoughtfully. “That was a cute drive.”

Max laughs, tracing a hand through his messy hair, “Cute?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

“And simply lovely, congrats!” she giggles at the use of his catchphrase.

His skin is glistening with a mix of sweat and that post-win adrenaline that's still in his system. Even though it was just a sprint race, a win is a win. She can tell he’s tired, but he’s more alive now than she’s seen him in weeks. The second half of the season is not treating him well, and it has been hard for Max — though not impossible — to keep the cofidence up, given that the top step of the podium seems to get further and further away with each race week.

He even told her that he misses hearing the Dutch national anthem. Coming from Max, that means something.

It's frustrating, but he manages.

“Thanks,” says Max, leaning against the door as he unzips his suit, tying a knot with the sleeves around his waist.

She can’t help but take him in — his messy helmet hair that she always makes fun of, but secretly finds very, very attractive, the damp collar of his racing suit, the helmet marks imprinted on his rosy cheeks, and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, still buzzing with energy.

“How’s Martin?” Max continues, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk while he crosses the room to sit next to her.

The room itself it's pretty small — just the couch, a table with his water bottle and energy drink scattered on top, and a change of clothes resting on a shelf nearby. But despite its plainness, Max’s presence fills every inch of it.

“He had the nerve to shush me when I started singing your song after you crossed the finish line,” she admits.

Max laughs again, a deep, rich sound, making the walls seem to hum with it. He leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent is still there, more pronounced now that he's actually in the room and so close to her.

“You looked amazing out there,” the girl continues, turning to glare at Max, “Like you were fighting for more than just a win.”

“And you were in the wrong garage to see it. Isn’t that so sad?” he asks, his gaze softening as he studies her.

With a gentle touch, he takes her cap off and throws it across the room.

She gasps dramatically, pretending to be affected by his gesture, “That's bully behavior.”

“No, that's hideous and it ruins your pretty outfit.”

“Just say you're jealous, and I won't wear it again.”

“I'm jealous,” Max admits it in a heartbeat, making her breath catch.

There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s kept for himself for a long time. He reaches out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the back of his fingers lingering against her cheek.

She bites her lower lip as she looks down at the tiny gap between them, trying to act like none of this is making her head spin, “Good to know. I'll come in full papaya gear at the next race.”

Max gives her a ‘don't push it’ glare, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest just a fraction of an inch away from hers. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with somethings she can’t quite decipher.

“I told you I'll come if you win.”

They both pretend to believe her insinuation, even though they know she always cares about Max, not just when he wins races. Which circles back to the conversation they've had last night, and the way she tried to motivate him; it's been on their minds constantly throughout the day. It was just a joke, sure. But still, Max took the podium, and unconsciously credits her with a small percentage of his performance today.

When their eyes meet again, the air is suddenly suffocating, as if the past is racing back between them. She has no idea who moves first and, somehow, Max's hand finds hers, warm and steady. It’s just a simple gesture — delicate, innocent, but somehow it feels like so much more. It anchores them in the present. It keeps them aware of each other.

“That's the thing, no? You’ve always been there for me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I want you to know that I never took you for granted. Not once.”

“Max…” she's not often at a loss for words, but when she hears his, it's hard for her to say anything else.

Every barrier they had both put up and every wall she had ever created around their friendship seems to be collapsing the moment Max starts caressing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. There is an undeniable desire between them, and they are both aware of it. However, their bond is much more important than a passing feeling. Right? A feeling that forms like a warm ball in her stomach, and makes his heart pound even faster when he notices her breath intensifying.

“In my eyes, you always deserve it,” she assures him, deciding to intertwine her fingers with his.

“Is that so?” he challenges her.

She nods, “You deserve to have everything you want because I know how hard you work to—”

Max leans in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I wants us.”

Her heart races as she meets his eyes — a flawless ocean blue, in which she would gladly bathe. Or drown, even.

“I want you,” he continues, his free hand traveling to her bare thigh, squeezing it slightly, “I want to stop pretending like you’re not driving me fucking mad, and that I don’t care who you’re giving your attention to.”

For a moment, they both hold their breath, his forehead dropping against hers.

“Is it clear enough what I want?” asks Max, and she nods again. “No, baby. I need words,” he frowns against her skin, as if it pains him not to get her confirmation. The confirmation that he waited so long for, but didn't feel he had the right to ask for.

Until it was too much.

Until now.

“I hear you,” she finally replies. “But what if—”

“If, if, if,” he cutts her off. “I don’t give a fuck about imaginary scenarios anymore. If it's not what you want, tell me to stop, and I will.”

But she doesnt.

Instead, she spreads her thighs wider to make room for his hand to move forward — all the confirmation he needs. He grins instantly, closing his eyes for a split second, living the same feeling he gets when he's on the podium after a hard-won race, letting it all soak in.

Max’s hand is trailing further up her thigh, unable to help but keep the smirk on when he realizes that whatever they feel for each other, is mutual. He runs his finger lightly over the top of her lace panties, letting out a low sigh at the way her body responds to the slighlest touch. In return, she wraps her arms around Max's neck, looking at each other in anticipation. They know it right away — it’s like the fall of the Bastille, the moment before a revolution, when restraint gives way to a desire too powerful to ignore. They both know that after this, there’s no going back, no way to rebuild what’s been broken or control the outcome.

They know it’s not a calculated risk, and it can end so badly, but when Max leans in to kiss her — a kiss meant to suck every ounce of doubt out of her — the walls come crashing down. They melt into it, all the tension fading away. The hand between her thighs is now working her at the same pace as the kiss, soft whimpers cascading from her into Max’s mouth, making him lose it.

He almost can't believe this is really happening. But it’s as real as his win, and all he needs for tonight to get better is to bury his fingers in her cunt, preparing her for his cock, and pump her full of cum until none of them can take it anymore, just to make up for all the time they've lost while they were dancing around their insecurities.

Without any warnings, he drops to his knees between her legs as she lets her head rest on the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Max decides to take it slow.

Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is afraid that maybe this is just a momentary lapse, and he won't get to have her like this for who knows how long. Therefore, he needs to take his time, savoring everything she's willing to give him. Now.

He gently pushes the thin fabric of her panties to the side, running his index finger over her slik, getting coated in her wetness even before he's halfway up to her clit. His thumb starts to gently rub against her warmth in circular motions over her soft skin of her moud, automatically feeling the urge to look up at her as she clasps her hands against the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white.

His mouth goes dry.

“God, do you always get this worked up?” asks Max with a husky voice, trying to ignore how annoyed he gets at the thought of her pussy dripping as a result of someone else's touch. “Has anyone ever made you this wet?”

She shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand, but Max is way too focused on parting her folds with his fingers to register her whimpers and the way she's fighting to keep quiet — these rooms are not only narrow and practical, they also have extremely thin walls. Plus, her glossy, red clit is more captivating than any answer she'd give him.

The truth is, he doesn't even care, because his only goal now is to ruin her for whoever comes after him.

“So pretty,” he muses, pressing one digit inside, her pussy growing wetter as it tightens around his finger. Which encourages Max to add one more right away, gently scissoring them to stretch her out. “Fuck,” he exhales, as she pushes her hips into his hand.

“Max…” she drops her hand just as he's curling his fingers inside, touching her sweet spot repeatedly, pumping in and out with precision.

“Does that feel good, schatje?

“So. Good,” she whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling.

Max’s fingers start moving faster, establishing an agonizing pace, his eyes watching her reactions intently, seeing her back arching.

“Look at you, fuck,” he swears, leaning in to graze his lips against her thigh, leaving tiny kisses in their wake while he keeps his eyes on her.

A few more pumps of his fingers are enough to feel her clench hard around him, and finally letting go. Her moans are echoing in Max's ears like a siren call, tempting, potentially dangerous, while his fingers help her riding out her orgasm. His free hand is gently caressing her side the entire time, his lips pressing harder into her thigh, which makes her moan again.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. I can’t fuck you in here if you can’t keep quiet. And you want me to, yes? You want your sweet cunt fucked until you cum around my cock?”

“Mhm... The mouth on you, Verstappen,” she pants as quietly as possible, while grabbing his shoulders to pull him on top of her.

He helps her getting rid of her panties altogether, while their lips meet again in an explosion of new emotions, each more and more intense. Max knows their options are limited since it's such a small space, and doesn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, flipping them around so now he's laying on the couch, while she straddles him. His hands are instantly landing on her waist, listening to her giggle at the sudden change of positions.

“Hi,” Max smiles at her, his face radiating with pure excitement.

“Hi,” the girl parrots, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly playing with her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.

“You good?”

“I’m great,” she says, returning the smile.

“I fucking want to, but we don't have to if you have the slighlest doubt,” Max reminds her. “I'll jerk off in the shower later.”

She presses the pads of her fingers on his swollen lips to shut him up. “I want to,” she assures him, “I'm just scared it'll ruin us.”

Max cups her chin in his hand, his eyes heavy with understanding and the desire to prove her wrong, “Not gonna happen.”

“How are you so sure?” she asks, swallowing hard.

“I'm not, but I'll give you head if—”

She bursts out laughing as soon as she realizes Max is quoting her, “You are absolutely outrageous.”

Max keeps his hold on her waist as she shifts around, a slightly nervous but excited breath leaving his chest while she gets comfortable on top of him. “Tell me what you want, schat.”

In response, her fingers start fumbling with the knot he tied around his waist earlier, tugging at his fireproof with an urgency she can barely contain. Once her hands are making contact with his bare chest, warm and firm, she's sliding the rest of his racing suit past his waist, until it pools around Max's hips. She feels the rush as he pushes the rest of it down his legs, sucking in a breath of air at the sight of him.

“Max, you…,” she swallows the lump that got stuck in her throat, raising her eyes to look at him, slightly worried; nothing could've prepared her for how big Max is. “I've never heard you bragging about your dick.”

He chuckles at her words, his eyes turning into two adorable crescents moons on his face.

He's changed a lot over the years, of course. Max was only 16 when they had sex for the first time. But seeing him under her like that it's just a reminder of how small she feels against him now. His big hands can encircle her waist if he wanted to, and his arms could easily break her if he held her too tightly.

She looks down and notices the stark contrast between them: his broad shoulders, his strength, and their heights.

With her body nearly dwarfed by his, she is overcome with trepidation as she questions whether they will even fit together. However, she notices that Max is already trying to ease her concerns without saying a word, as he lifts her chin and meets her eyes with a tenderness that releases all the tension.

“You can take it, baby,” he assures her, guiding himself towards her entrance.

She lowers herself on him, slowly, intently, so easily that her hot cunt is practically sliding along his length, forcing Max to swallow a moan at how her wetness spreads over him. He pushes his hips forward, impatient, watching his cock disappear between her thighs. It drives them both absolutely crazy.

The intensity, the intimacy and all the places they make contact would normally be way too much. But then, Max pulls his hips down, only to fuck back in, feeling her relaxing on top of him.

The fit is perfect.

Her body is finally full. Complete.

“God, look at you,” he almost chokes, palming her ass under the skirt to help her spread more around him. “You're so beautiful.”

She cries out a moan, feeling as if her body gets split in two in real time, in the best way possible. His cock is so big that she's pretty sure she can feel him between her lungs.

Max means to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. A gasp leaves his parted lips as she sinks down on him completely — finally — his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, holding onto his girl like she's his lifeline. His chest sparks with a goran as he looks at her, the blue in his eyes darkening at the feeling.

“So tight, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” says Max, his hands getting lost under her shirt, palming her breasts. “You feel so good already. Gonna make me cum so fast,” he adds in a breathless mess, his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of her body against his.

It’s a consuming feeling, that leaves them both senseless.

Max starts to move slowly, guiding her up and down his cock, until they set a steady rhythm. They're an amalgam of moans and gasps, as his hands rest on her waist tighter than before, fucking in deeper with each thrust. The sounds they make and the way they hold each other brings them together in a new way. It's scary and exciting and far too risky, but none of that matters now.

All that matters is the way she holds onto him, mouth ajar as they look at each other. She uses him to anchor herself while she sinks deeper, again and again, until pleasure is all she knows.

“Oh… Max. Max, please,” she beggs, the sound of them connecting reverberating throughout the entire room.

At the sight of her flushed face and parted lips, Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes trailing down her body to where they’re joined, just to see how she takes him in with such ease. The image causes a low groan to leave his mouth, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs. She takes him so well, to the point of getting his own thighs wet as her pussy drips with their combined pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good on me, love. So good for me, that’s it,” he moans softly, his eyes falling shut to allow him to feel her everywhere in his body.

“Max… I can’t… Please, it’s too much.”

His eyes snap open to look at her again. Hearing her on the edge of desperation and feeling her body starting to shake with pleasure on top of him, it’s enough for Max to take charge, even though he’s not the one on top. Without a thought, he moves his hands back on her waist, holding her still as he lifts up his hips to start moving from underneath.

“Hold on to me, baby. I got you.”

He manages to send her to a whole another realm as he intensifies the pace, while the sounds of their bodies slapping together animates the room.

“That’s it, fuuuck. Let me take care of you,” he's breathing hard between thrusts, feeling dizzy as his climax builds, the heat in his stomach burning hotter.

He’s consumed by her in the most satisfying way — she is all that he feels and sees, her body pliant over his, her sweet noises in his ear being the only thing he can focus on as he looks at her through his lashes.

Max’s name cascades from her mouth, over and over again, until she starts clenching around his length — he knows that she’s close, and he’s right there with her.

His breath sounds shaky when he speaks again, “Where do you want me, baby?”

She knows that it's not a good idea for him finish inside her, but the thought of Max owning her like that gives her goosebumbs all over her body.

“Inside,” she gasps, burying her fingers in his hair and leaning over for a messy kiss. “Want to feel you...”

“Yeah, you want me to fill your pretty pussy? That you kept from me for so long?” asks Max against her jaw, his voice coming out in a low, sultry moan, just as a few drops of sweat gather along his hairline.

He lets his head fall back with a low groan, fucking his cock deeper and making her see stars in the process.

“Oh, god! Max,” she gasps, her voice coming out almost like a warning.

He takes it as an invitation to fuck her harder, feeling her tensing, then becoming boneless on top of him as he rides her orgasm. Max follows closely, moaning loudly as his hips move slopply, spilling inside of her, rolling his eyes at the feeling of her body milking his release.

“So fucking good, schatje.”

She wants to agree with him, but her mind is far too foggy and all she can do is run her hand over his skin, which is slick with a thin layer of sweat. She cups his face in her small palm while her other hand rests on his neck, sealing their lips together in a much slower, tender kiss.

Their tongues meet in a slow dance, tasting each other, making Max smile under it. She presses her forehead on his, a content smile appearing on her face this time, both of them completely blissed out.

Max’s hands runs along her thighs, admiring the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he speaks in a low, husky voice that still sounds breathless, “How the hell are you real?”

“Don’t ask me anything for the next five business days.”

He chuckles softly, giving her one more kiss before helping her up so he can gently pull out of her. She gasps again at the emptiness he leaves behind, feeling Max’s cum mixed with her own release oozing out of her. He swallows dryly, forcing his hand to gather up the result of their pleasure and fuck his fingers back in her cunt a few times before she collapses on top of him.

Max softens under her, tracing his hand through the waves of her hair, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say something. Something that could change the entire trajectory of their friendship.

Friendship.

He puffs out a laugh at the word.

“What?” she asks, curiously raising her eyes to look at him.

He looks so incredibly beautiful as he breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When it comes to Max, his beauty goes beyond his appearance; beneath the fierce, self-assured driver the outside world perceives, he displays now a softness and sensibility that only she has access to.

“You still owe me a blow job,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.

A laugh escapes her, soft and giddy, but as she pulls back, the intensity in his gaze remains.

Oh, he’s serious.

“I’ll find you tomorrow, after the race,” she says, her voice soft, almost as if she’s making a promise.

“What if I don’t win?”

She laughs, “A podium also counts.”

For now, that’s enough for him.

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

[diwtara]

Yes, Sanji and Zoro fight constantly, but afterwards Sanji goes back to the galley as happy as can be.

Growing up in the baratie, teasing each other, throwing insults, it was the language he learned to speak

And he knew just as well that Zoro grew up a fighter, that testing himself against others he considered strong, fighting without inent to harm, was Zoros language in much the same way.

And it was freeing to meet each other, have these playful conversations daily, to blow off stress with someone who spoke their language

Sanji heard people comment on how badly the two of them got along, but he laughed it off. These strangers dont understand them at all.

But then Usopp says it.

Sanji is confused. Because Usopp must know that the two of them are friends. Maybe even best friends, happy to share a drink, or their chores, or even the quiet together

But then Nami says it

And now Sanji is questioning everything. Has he been misinterpreting Zoro this whole time? Maybe Zoro had never been asking for a sparring partner. Maybe Zoro didnt know how to say he didnt enjoy spending their time together.

So when Zoro teases him he starts biting back his own taunts. Swallowing all the things he normally would say.

When Zoro challenges him, Sanji will meet him just as always, not willing to take away from Zoros training if thats all he can offer the man.

Sani finds theres less joy in himself when he returns to the galley after these one sided talks.

Zoro for his part has no idea whats going on with the Cook, doesnt understand the way hes holding back. Their captain is all about freedom, yet Zoro watches as Sanji locks a part of himself away.

He racks his brain for something hes said or done to have the cook shut him out like this but cant think of anything. He could try to ask, but the common tongue had never been Zoros strong suite

When they land at a new island and Sanji volunteers to be the one to stay behind Zoro knows something is up. The cook loves to explore new places and explore new markets.

So Zoro takes the pocket change Nami allowed him and instead of looking for a bar he went searching for something else.

It took a while, and took even longer for him to make it back - someone decided to put a whole forest between this harbor town and the docks while he was shopping - the food he was carrying had long gone cold, but hopefully it still tasted fine.

He pushed his way into the kitchen and dropped the plates on the counter. "Local specials" he said with a shrug, hoping that the Cook would understand all the things he was trying to say with this.

"And...why are you bringing them here?"

"So you can try them." Zoro huffed and quickly looked away, "maybe it will improve your cooking, shit-cook"

Sanji was just staring at the dishes, leaving zoro to squirm internally, knowing he wouldnt have the words to explain more than that.

"Zoro," Sanji started cautiously, still looking at the plates rather than at the swordsman, "are we friends?"

Zoros head whipped around to stare at Sanji like he was stupid. "What are you, stupid?! Of course we're friends idiot!"

Sanjis face instantly flushed red with anger "oh you are certainly not someone who should be calling other stupid you directionally challenged, mossheaded, excuse for a swordsman -"

It wasnt long before insults, swords, and legs were flying, smashing into each other in ways they both understood.

Nami sighed, hearing them clash once again. Shaking her head and lamenting how those two can never just sit down and talk to each other.

Luffy laughs. He hears what they are saying just fine.

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - roronoa zoro

a/n: i for sure need these headcannons so bad at the moment😭😭 luckily, i should be starting some antidepressants soon!! i'm a bit nervous about it but it's definitely worth the shot, since i have tried literally everything else 😭 anywho, only the fluffiest fluff for now 😭😭😭😭 its all my heart can take

nothing but fluff here 💗

---------------------------------------------------------------------

when he comforts you:

-the green haired swordsman was the type of man to notice something was up before you ever had the chance to say anything about it. while he may not seem like it, he always has his eye on you.. he notices the slightest shifts in your mood, body language, the way you speak, the glimmer in your eyes, he'd never come out and say that.. but he shows up in smaller ways

-he'll spend a lot more time with you. invite you to watch him work out or drink with him under the stars, just making himself more present in your life, he'll never let you really be alone, unless you asked him for that.

-you may have to initiate it.. but the second you looked at zoro with teary eyes asking "can you just hold me for a second?" he'll grab you and pull you into his arms so fast... and he's not letting go anytime soon. his tight muscles enveloping your body, the rhythmic sound of his heart beating against your cheek is a sense of calm you can't experience with anyone other than him... it isn't until you lightly slap his arm with gentle giggles saying "okay.. zo, i can't breathe when you're holding me this tight.." that he loosens his grip on you (the absolute tiniest bit)

-the swordsman isn't the chattiest when it comes to talking through problems, but if you want advice, his straightforward and blunt outlook is surprisingly more helpful than you anticipate at times. zoro doesn't beat around the bush when it comes to his advice, so he'll only tell you if you really want to/are ready to hear it.

-you'll catch him staring at you more often than usual. this man always keeps an eye on you. it's his silent check in.. his casual way of asking "you doing okay?"

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: while he is mr tough guy ™️, he does not play around with you and your health. he'll grumble and pout when you aren't resting. his typical methods of forcing you to rest (but also still make you feel useful) is to have you lay on his back while he does push ups or dragging you to take naps with him. he doesn't outwardly express his worry but you'll find yourself waking up from naps with his watchful gaze on your face, his brows slightly furrowed, his gruff voice asking "did ya sleep okay? were you comfortable?" and he'll only relax when you reply with your typical soft sleepy smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering "yeah.. im okay... since you're here with me."

when he needs comforting:

-again, zoro isn't the chattiest guy in the world..so you can tell he needs you when he wordlessly pulls you close to him, burying your face into his chiseled chest, his rapid heartbeat sounding off in your ear, one hand tangled into your hair holding you head close to his heart, the other tightly gripped around your waist. the rugged soft murmur in your ear asking "can we stay like this for a bit?"

-one of his favorite ways to unwind is up in the crows nest with a bottle (or ten) of sake, with you by his side. resting your head on his shoulder as you both stargaze with the ambience of the crashing waves beneath you

-the swordsman also loves to throw himself deeper into his training as a distraction.. so he's absolutely thrilled when you one day approach him asking for help improving your fighting techniques and combat maneuvering.. be prepared to work hard though.. he'll train you until the sun goes down, eventually all his worries washing away when he sees the smile of satisfaction on your tired face after finally perfecting what he taught you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: getting to write this with the soft patters of rain outside my window healed a part of my soul 😭😭 this is truly the quickest and easiest time i've had writing for zoro so hopefully that streak continues 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[leclarifies]

off the grid - III

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 5.3k

a/n: hi, i have been VERY busy HAHAHA. not proofread or checked for grammar mistakes bc i wanted to push this part out asap, please excuse any spelling mistakes. thank u so much for reading

PREVIOUS PART ✰ NEXT PART MASTERLIST ✰ ASK ME ANYTHING ✰ REQUEST A FIC!

"(monaco) oklahoma, you made a man out of me." - lany, 'cowboy in l.a'

all you remembered was the screaming.

the glass shattering.

your mother reaching out for you as you curled up into a ball on the floor.

you had your hands covering your eyes, you were just 16 after all.

"you're insane! we promised not to fight in front of our child, now you're throwing things at me?" your mother had yelled, you squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting anything to do with it.

"if you were the one fucking men behind my bed, then i wouldn't be throwing shit at you!" your father retaliated, throwing another glass that narrowly hit your face.

why was this happening to you?

"if wouldn't have cheated if you just paid attention to this family falling apart for once!" your mother had left your side to go and physically fight with your father.

you were in the corner of the room, back facing them as you endured all the fighting.

"stop it! i hate you guys fighting, STOP IT!"

when was this going to end?

a gasp escaped your lips as you sat up from the nightmare. it's been happening a lot recently.

your throat was dry, sweat dripped down your forehead as you assessed where you were and what was happening.

there was a indescribable feeling that specific nightmare gave you, and you couldn't place your finger on it.

maybe it was when all of your childhood trauma started, the first ever fight you had witnessed from your parents, or maybe that was when you realized that you chasing your dreams was a little heavy on the family expenses.

you didn't know.

all you knew right now was that you hated the way it made you feel, how it made your skin crawl, how it raised goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"are you alright?" max's soft and sleepy voice emerges from his bedroom, and that's when you finally recognized where you were. he had heard shouts of distress, knowing that it was you in another nightmare.

you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, his soft blue sleepy eyes that were flashed with concern and worry. words were stuck in your throat as you tried to get them out, but all that came out were pathetic sobs.

you curl up in a similar position that you once knew all too well, and sobbed while hugging your legs. max was quick to jump to your side, stroking your head as he usually does and asks you what was wrong but the words wouldn't come out. a mixed feeling of regret and self-pity bubbled up in your chest as max captures you in a hug.

all you could do was sob in his shoulder.

"it's okay, i'm here. nothing can hurt you anymore. i'm here," max spoke softly as you tried to come down from the nightmare.

"i-... max—"

"shh, it's okay. i'm here, you're okay."

you didn't want to be a burden to anyone anymore, and tonight, you were feeling everything like being a burden to everyone.

"her expenses are getting out of hand, we cannot keep fueling her karting career if this goes on," your mother had been whispering under her breath but you could hear her, hiding behind a wall. you freshly turned 17.

"she is chasing her dreams, i am not letting you rip that away from her," your father sternly spoke to your mother.

"she is nothing more than a burden to our expenses, can't you see? she will never get far in karting, women never do. stop fueling her delusions like this, it's not good for anyone or anything," your mom interjected again as she throws the bills into the kitchen counter.

you never knew that your mother had felt that way about your karting career. it hurt.

more than the comments of the boys on the grid.

because at the end of the day, even your own mom didn't believe in you.

why should you believe in yourself?

"you are a cruel woman. how do you think she'll feel when she hears that from her own mother?" your father had reprimanded your mother, his eyes sharp and his tongue even sharper, "why can't you believe in your daughter for once? does it cost you money to be supportive?"

"in this case, yes! she is draining the expenses and you know it," your mother growls, just loud enough for you to hear.

god how you wished she understood how you felt.

you had fallen asleep in max's arms once again, maybe the third time this week. max never had the heart to wake you up and leave your side after a particularly bad dream, so he would always move you to lay on top of his chest and sleep with you on the sofa.

you stirred awake for a bit when you felt him move you.

"max..?" you mumbled, your eyes barely open but planted a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead. it fluttered something in your sleepy stomach that you couldn't quite place.

"sleep."

"you can always go back in your room," you slurred your words from the tiredness from the emotional draining you had to do earlier but he shook his head gently, saying no to your suggestion.

"sleep."

"but—"

"sleep, schatje."

you woke up the next day to max's hushed voice talking, he sounded quite irritated. it sounded like he was fighting. none of the words made sense to you until you finally started waking up.

"—like i said kelly. i want nothing to do with you anymore— you cannot use p as leverage. i'm happy now..." max's hushed voice trailed off, you fluttered your eyes open to see that he was sitting up and you were laying on his lap.

you sleepily look up at him before he smiles at you, focusing back on his phone call, "i have someone else now kelly, if you can't accept that then it's your issue to deal with," he mumbled before shutting off the phone, finally giving you all of his undivided attention.

"kelly giving you trouble again?" you ask, sleep laced in your voice, stretching a tiny bit, he pat your head twice and nodded.

kelly had been borderline harassing him, almost a year later and begging to take her back. maybe she finally realized how hard her life was once she couldn't mooch off his money anymore.

"just the usual, i can't be arsed to deal with her."

you sit up and look at max apologetically, "did i give you a lot of trouble last night? i'm sorry for bothering you again, i told you i would be able to handle it by myself."

max rolled his eyes sarcastically, really not minding and liking the way he had to take care of you and how you naturally drifted towards him for comfort.

"i told you, i want to take care of you. you're not a burden to me, you are perfectly fine just the way you are," max had said, while he was talking he had stood up right in front of you and held both of your hands.

"i just don't want to feel like i'm burdening anyone anymore, i just—... i hate it," you look up at him, "you understand how i feel right? i just don't want you to feel—"

"you're doing it again."

a sigh left your lips and you look away from max's blue eyes, "look at me," he tells you softly, finger hooked underneath your chin to make you look at him.

"you're doing okay, you're fine. i am here for you. you're gonna do great this season," max had told you words of encouragement, "i am so proud of you. just do your best. i will always be here to support you."

"thank you max."

"you're welcome schatje."

"this question is for y/n, how do you feel coming into this season of formula one? your third year and it has been a fabulous ride with you in the red," the interviewer had asked, you were elected to be on the panel for media interviews this time around.

you put the mic up your mouth and spoke, "i feel great, helping ferrari get their constructors' cup after so long did help with that feeling. charles also had a hand in this, so i won't take all the credit. i do wish to win the driver's championship this year— that's if charles lets me," you finish it off with a chuckle as you glance at charles who was on the left of you.

charles gives you a teasing look which you roll your eyes playfully to.

"next question is to max," the interviewer smoothly moves over to max who was to your right, you glance at him before listening to what the question was, "how is your car after testing season? do you think you guys might be able to fight for the constructors' cup this year? why or why not?"

"i think the car is miles better than last year, i think we have a good shot in winning the constructors' cup this year— no offense to the two ferrari drivers to the left of me," max gives you a glance as you both lock eyes, you swiftly look ahead and to the panel of interviewers.

the interview was shortly wrapped up as you guys were dismissed to head home for the night. third day of testing had finally finished and you just had enough of the media duties for today. having to film content for ferrari socials as well.

it was almost routine for the two of you guys to walk to your hotel and just yap to eachother for about thirty minutes of the walk, as you were wrapping things up and gathering your things in the motorhome, charles walks in and greets you.

"you going home with verstappen tonight?" charles winks at you as he approaches you and stands next to you, you scoff and nod, "you've been spending a lot of time with him lately and a small birdie tells me that you also live in the same apartment as him."

"we've been living in the same building for almost a year now charles, where have you been?" you joke with him as you zip up your dufflebag and carry it on your shoulder.

charles just laughs as your response and shrugs, "you guys getting closer? in that sense, if you know what i mean," he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh and shake your head, knowing everything between the two of you guys was entirely— maybe not entirely but they were mostly platonic.

"you are worse than the media pen charles, really," you laugh as you wave him off, wanting to retire for the night. now you knew why charles asked if you were going home with max or not, he was waiting for you outside of the motorhome.

you smiled at him and he smiled at you, motioning to the exit as you followed close behind him.

throughout the years of spending time in his apartment, you had slowly but surely opened up about things that have happened in the past that still haunted you to this day. max did the same. telling you similar stories from his childhood that he fortunately had gotten over as the years went by.

but they were still scabbed scars that you kept picking on, making them bleed red every time you remembered.

it had barely been a decade since you escaped your childhood home, filled with fighting and violence from your mother.

max was there through the countless nights of nightmares, always holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you always hated those nights.

not only did you feel like a burden to max, but you felt as if you were burdening the entire world.

no one should see you in that state.

smack!

the sound of the slap rang through the air as you protested your mother not letting you leave the house.

"you are not going to your silly races anymore, you are a girl, y/n. act like one," your mother had sternly reprimanded you, but you only glared at her in response, not being able to say anything. knowing that if you did, sobs will come out and your mother would make fun of you.

"just because me and your father divorced, doesn't mean i'm going to support this stupid delusion of yours going into formula one, never," your mother had continued as she dragged you by the shirt into your room, "now sit there and think about how pretty you're going to dress up when you go to tonight's party."

the door slammed shut in your face.

you called your father of course and getting you out of your mother's house was a hassle, your mother was refusing entry to your father because it was not his day of visitation and your father was trying to force himself in because it was race day and you were due there.

it was your debut in formula 2, and your mother had managed to make it hell for you. first race and you had tears in your eyes because what you had to go through in your mother's home.

your debut in formula 2 wasn't smooth, nor was it easy. but you had your father there at least, cheering from the sidelines. it was tough enough that the f1 academy didn't exist at this time, only being able to progress through to f1 to actually compete with the nepo babies that surrounded the paddock.

"you okay?" max had stopped in front of you, you blinked plainly before focusing on his blue eyes, you bit your lip, feeling guilty. he was probably talking about something and you were not listening.

"uh, yeah. sorry, i was just in my own head there," you smile slightly at you, "were you saying something?" your brain had been running completely on autopilot, just walking wherever max was walking.

max looked at you that said it all.

"stop thinking about her, she's not worth your time. are you really gonna let her ruin your days in f1?" max crossed his arms in front of his chest, "you told me that's what most of your dreams were about, she terrorizes your dream but you cannot let her ruin this for you."

"it's easier said than done, max," you look up at him sadly before looking away from his gaze, you hated the way he looked at you when he knows what you're going through. as if he could see through the tough exterior you built for yourself.

max gently took your hand and caressed it.

this was what you meant when it was mostly platonic.

"look at me— look at me when i'm talking to you, y/n l/n."

you gently tore your gaze away from the city skylines and look up to lock eyes with his steely blue eyes, they were like the sky. you just couldn't look away sometimes.

"i believe in you, okay? you have been a wonderful driver the two years you've been in formula one, do you understand?"

you nod at his encouraging words, not knowing what else to say. the words lost as they reached your mouth.

"you have achieved so many things in your rookie year that so many people in the sport can only dream of doing, have a little faith in yourself and in your skills," max gently squeezed the hand he was holding, "hell, you even beat me to the constructors' cup last year and the year before that—"

"charles helped—"

"do you always have to discredit yourself when it comes to your team's achievements?"

you could only sigh when he said that, you genuinely believed that you didn't deserve to be here. that someone much more talented did, not realizing that you indeed do have the skills, that you just had to give yourself more grace.

"yeah, that's what i thought. let's go back to the hotel and relax, okay? you deserve it. sometimes being in the paddock for too long can mess you up," max says before tugging you along back to the hotel.

"radio check," anthony sounded out from the garage, you were ready for this race. you were always ready for a good race.

"loud and clear," you say as you sat in your car, starting front row next to max. taking pole was easy in monaco this time round.

"okay y/n, stick to plan a. don't take unnecessary risks. just play it safe, defend, and bring it home," anthony had reminded you, you hum a response before focusing completely on the race.

fred had informed that they were going to prioritize you this race, charles has been having engine problems since free practice and he told you that it was okay for you to take the lead on this one, not having much hope on his car seeing the mountain of problems it had caused him this weekend, but he was still willing to try. placing himself p4 on the grid.

"welcome to the monaco grand prix this weekend, as we see l/n on pole, verstappen p2, lando norris p3 and charles leclerc p4. merely seconds from the start of the race, it's lights out and away we go!"

you booked it from lights out, pedal to the metal when you saw the red lights go off.

max was always resilient when it came to racing, even though he had a soft spot for you (which he will never admit outloud), he still respected you enough to still think of you as a competent driver and would never give you an easy win.

max was still as aggressive as ever, always taking the chance to fight for that spot for p1. but this was your home race and you were going to die before you let max get first place easily.

lap after lap, max tried to contest the your lead, but you were smart, conserving your tyres when you didn't need them as much and pushing them to their limits when you did need them.

"we're gonna have you box together with charles," anthony had informed you through the radio, but you interjected.

"can we box when the red bull boxes? i don't want to take the chance of us losing this lead when we have it in the bag," you told anthony but he wasn't having any of it.

"just trust us, y/n. we have this. box with charles next lap, then fight for p1 again. they're going to have to eventually box too," anthony rejected your idea so you followed the team's lead and did exactly that.

charles had climbed and overtaken norris and helped you defend from max, being aggressive with max meant that he had less aggressiveness to put on you, which made it perfect for you.

"and ferrari has decided to double box against l/n's decision to keep pushing, letting max through to p1, whilst the ferrari duo now sits in p4 and p5."

lando was ahead of you, alongside george who had managed to take p3 while you boxed, but you had the advantage of heating up hard tyres and overtook him easily.

overtime, you slowly got to p3 with a double overtake with charles. him taking p4 respectively.

you didn't exactly know what happened between lando and max because you were behind lando, but at the hairpin, but they both lost control and crashed into the barrier, your eyes widened as you zoomed past the both of them, ferrari taking p1 & p2 simultaneously.

"is max okay?"

"focus on the race, y/n. he will be fine."

"no, tell me what's going on with the red bull and mclaren, did lando rear-end max?" you asked hurriedly, still trying your best to bring this race home.

"i will update you as soon as i get info," that was anthony's way of telling you to shut the fuck up and focus on the race.

your mind was racing a million miles an hour, you were worried. for once, it wasn't the two of you involved in a crash.

you brought the race home at the end, scoring a ferrari 1-2, but your mind was not there on the podium where it should be.

"dad!" you yell as you see your father in the ferrari garage after all of the celebratory processes had been gone through, tears instantly brought to your eyes, you run and almost knock him over from the force of you flying and hugging him.

"i'm so proud of you," your father held you tight and you cried into his arms, "i always believed you could, now i'm looking at the future world champion."

and that's where you finally realize, maybe you did deserve the iconic red car after all.

"i'm going to break that mclaren wing, i swear," you mutter quietly as you sit next to max who was resting on the hospital bed of the medical center, you had gone straight to visit max as you finished everything up around the paddock.

"you have anger issues—"

"i do not!" you gasped and looked at max who had a loopy smile on his face, you act as if that was a scandalous thought and scoffed. he was under some painkillers to manage the pain of whatever injuries he sustained from the crash

"you do, you always have. even when you were a rookie. i remember when you crashed into me on that quali, it was funny watching the race over and hearing you say motherfucker over the radio. you got fined for that right?" max asked, glancing at you who was on his left.

with a sigh and a huff, you reply a small 'yes' before crossing your arms in front of your chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

again, max would never admit it outloud but he considered you cute.

the door of the room opened to reveal a lando with a few of mclaren's representatives, he had a sorry look on his face but you frowned when you saw him.

you then caught yourself and was confused, what was this feeling?

protectiveness? care?

what the hell was this?

you cringe at yourself before lando gave you a raised eyebrow.

"is there a problem?" lando asked before you catch yourself another time, eyes wide and shook your head.

"sorry, made a face out loud on accident."

lando looked away from you for a split second before turning to look at max, "hey mate, i'm really sorry about crashing into you back there. it was a complete mistake on my part."

they sorted out whatever "beef" they had and that night max was cleared to go home. you had volunteered to take him back to his apartment, since it was monaco, the fia didn't have to book hotels for the both of you.

max had a gentle hand always holding yours as you walked him back to your apartments.

he had stopped in the middle of his tracks, your hands naturally disconnected, you turned to ask him if he was alright before he uttered the words out of his lips.

"what are we?"

you looked at him, almost confused. you passed it off as the meds at first.

"max, you're drugged. don't say things you don't mean," you walk a few steps to grab his hand again, but he was steadfast in his resolve. not wanting to move until you answered his question.

but you didn't know the answer to that either.

"answer the question, y/n," max said softly, he didn't want to make it seem like he was mad at you, he never was, "what are we exactly? i kiss you on the forehead to comfort you and i call you schatje but you've never reciprocated my moves, so tell me what are we?"

"schatje is a term of endearment right? what do you mean by that max?" max had always told you at schatje was something that someone would call their loved ones, you didn't bother searching it up either because he was the native dutch here, you took his word for it.

"i lied," max said quietly, his eyes were on the floor and he looked absolutely rejected.

you could never ignore the feelings that bloomed in your chest when max would sacrifice his sleep for you, the way he would wrap his arms around you, the way he would kiss your forehead with so much love in his eyes that he might break if he held in anymore.

you never realized it until now.

"so what does it mean?" you asked as you stood in front of him, trying to search for the answers in his pretty blue eyes but all you could see were the hints of disappointment and sadness.

"it means love, or baby— it doesn't matter what it means," max was frustrated now, you could tell by the way he tousled with his hair when he finished his sentence, he wanted an answer and fast.

you didn't know what to answer with.

it was undeniable that you did reciprocate his feelings but you didn't know how to word it out.

you were always bad with words.

"i don't know what to answer you with," you replied, as honest as you could get, you didn't want any misunderstandings with max. especially not now, not ever.

you guys had gotten close for a reason. he was your safe space, as you were his and you didn't want to throw it away all for a title to name the two of you.

"so you don't feel the same way? all these months of me comforting you, patiently listening and waiting for you to open up? it was all because you considered me a friend?" max asked, his grip off your hand was now slipping.

it was also a metaphor of your relationship with him breaking apart.

"i'm— i don't know max. this is all confusing to me, i've never dated anyone before and i don't know how to answer—"

"so when i kiss you, you don't feel it in your chest too? the warmth? the comfort? it's all just flat— just platonic to you?" max took a step back, it was almost he was stepping back from whatever was going on between the two of you.

"i'm not saying that—"

"let's not ruin your win tonight by arguing," max brushed past by you and continued to walk, not bothering to look back to see if you were following or not.

you weren't.

"p6, dnf, p10, p12, dnf, p18, p16, dnf— do you actually want to be a formula one driver, y/n?" fred had dropped a stack of papers of data of your past performances, you were frustrated too. you hadn't been able to get a good night's worth of sleep since monaco.

"look, i told you. i'm just having trouble with sleeping and the doctor prescribed me with pills for the insomnia too, what else do you expect from me fred?" you asked with a sigh, rubbing your temple, absolutely frustrated with your recent performance too.

"i want you to bring whatever you did in monaco, this isn't good enough for me, y/n. i can't keep defending you forever," fred had told you before leaving you with a headache and a stack of papers to analyze over.

"fucking fuck shit, stupid—" you stopped yourself as you set your elbows on the table and rubbed your face with your hands.

max...

it felt like you were stuck in a loop.

a never-ending, bad performing loop.

you didn't know what to do, you ate those sleeping pills like candy and they did nothing.

nightmares were more frequent now, having them almost everyday. the stress was slowly getting to you and you could see it in your performance.

you spent that night going over the data and simulating your races. your best tracks, worst ones and picked apart what you could do better.

every race, even your best tracks. it ended with something stupid.

understeering, oversteering, bumping into your own teammate, bumping into sim max, bumping into literally everything that wasn't supposed to be bumped into.

it was supposed to be flawless— you were supposed to be flawless.

what the fuck happened?

you knew the answer to that but didn't dare answer it for yourself.

"it's not working," you whispered to yourself as you took off the headphones and practically slammed it against the desk you were currently occupying. it was useless.

everything was fucking useless when it came to you.

your relationship with max was strained, he wouldn't even look at your direction, let alone talk with you. while him and charles were celebrating most of their podiums in the cooldown room, you were stuck here, overanalyzing whatever the fuck you did wrong.

rubbing your face with your hands again, you had barely heard someone come into the room with you with a sympathetic smile.

"it's one of those slumps, is it?" charles' voice had flowed into the room and it startled you, nearly jumping out of your own skin.

"jesus fucking christ, charles. knock," you rubbed your temples, your sleep-deprivation had earned you major migraines, they were practically permanently thumping in your skull now.

"sorry, i overheard fred talking to you earlier. then he told me that you might need a little help..." charles trailed off as he noticed the mess all over you, it was late and your flight for the next grand prix was due tomorrow morning.

"it's fine— i'm fine. i am not a child that needs to be babysat," you spat out in anger, "if he wants to get rid of me, he can. fucking coward," you growled the last part under your breath but charles was still understanding your situation.

"you know y/n, it's okay to ask for help sometimes—"

"i don't need help! i just need to sleep for once in my life," you closed your eyes, hoping for the thumping in your skull to just go away.

"are—"

"just get out."

first simulation, crash, dnf.

second, collision, dnf.

third, mistake on the curbs, p9.

fourth, spun out, dnf.

fifth, minimal mistakes, could be better, p2.

80% of your simulations ended in a crash.

"how the fuck did i do so well earlier this season? fucking shit ass car, shit ass team, shit ass driver—"

it was max.

"shut up!" you screamed out loud at your brain.

you were spiraling, it was obvious to everyone else but yourself.

being behind the wheel only a week after your kiss with the barriers had unnerved you.

was it even legal to drive an f1 car being this sleep-deprived?

you didn't want to know the answer to that.

"just focus on the race yeah? don't stress yourself out on anything else, just do your best—"

"i don't need your shitty peptalks before my race, anthony," you warned your race engineer and he didn't say anything remotely encouraging for the rest of the race.

your performance this time around was better than the rest of the races you overanalyzed a week ago.

p3.

podium.

more humans to interact with... yay.

if there was a time where you wanted to die, this was it.

max was in the cooldown room with charles.

you were dreading it.

"good job on the podium today! i knew you could do it," charles flashed you a big smile, you could only give him a small smile back.

this wasn't your peak performance, you knew it but you didn't want to say anything snappy, feeling bad for the words you yelled at him the other week.

you weren't doing good, and he knew so he always gave you some grace.

you didn't utter a word in that cooldown room, feeling lightheaded from the adrenaline and the lack of sleep.

you couldn't even feel the cold champagne on your skin when it came to podium celebrations, you were just thankful it was time to go home back to monaco when the race was over. autumn break was in full-swing and you wanted to sleep the entire break over.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE IM SORRY. i have been very busy :[

[strang3lov3]

Under the Table

Roman takes you to dinner. You eat pasta and he eats you (4k)

Tags - smut, stepcest, stepdaddy!roman, age gap, dom!roman, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), public sex, teasing, emotional boners, you make daddy blush and get all bashful so he reminds you who calls the shots, like Dennis Reynolds, Roman has feelings again but he’s still disgustinggggg, does he want to be your father or your daddy, oh he is getting so soft. But someone else is too 🫵 implied almond/alcoholic mom + other mommy issues,,,planting some seeds here don’t mind me,,, Fic help - @beefrobeefcal thank you for brainstorming with me and for giving me your eyeballs! @endlessthxxghts, ditto!! A/N - yeah I wrote a birthday fic for my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift. shut the fuck up about it. I love you. I think next time we see him he’ll fuck your ass maybe. I don’t know. Someone jump into my inbox and tell me something gross they should do because I need to cancel out this goddamn sweetness. Rotting the teeth right out of my skull smh. also, I know we waited a while for more stepdaddy. I appreciate your patience more than you know 🩷 updates may continue to be slow this month because we’re getting down to the wire with school and all that stuff.

Stepdaddy!Roman Roy

7:34 AM. You wake to texts from old friends and relatives wishing you another happy year around the sun, don’t party too hard and so on and so forth. It does warm your heart to know that people are thinking of you. Your past birthdays haven’t felt much like the birthdays you had when you were younger, when you were so excited to celebrate your day you couldn’t sleep. 

You pull on a sweatshirt over your thin pajamas and head downstairs to make yourself a bowl of cereal, and find Roman in the kitchen. “Morning, sunshine. Go sit down in the dining room.”

“Mm,” you grumble, voice gravelly from sleep. Your eyes are droopy and you still look tired, barely conscious. 

Roman eyes you as you sit down. You rest your head on the table, and you’re wearing his sweatshirt. He’s not entirely sure how you wound up with it. He doesn’t say anything, though, only smirks to himself. 

Roman goes back into the kitchen to plate some blueberry pancakes he made for you, just like he’s done since you were young. Roman’s not much of a cook, but this is one meal he can make and that he can make well. He wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but you asked him once when you were a kid and he didn’t have it in his heart to tell you no. Roman remembers how crappy that first batch came out, but how you didn’t complain. Honestly, you probably didn’t even notice with your pancakes covered in so much butter and syrup and whipped cream. You probably couldn’t even taste the blueberries. But thus, tradition stuck, and Roman’s blueberry pancake game vastly improved over the years. He liked making them for you as much as you liked eating them.

Roman returns to you with the plate of blueberry pancakes and sets it down in front of you. “Voilà.”

You lift your head up and grin when you see the pancakes Roman made for you. It’s straight out of a commercial, melted butter and syrup dripping down the edges with a dollop of whipped cream right on top. “Aww. You remembered,” you beam. You didn’t ask Roman for the pancakes this year. 

Roman blushes, and he feels his heart beat harder. It’s been so long since you’ve smiled at him like that, and it makes him nervous. “No. I made them for myself, actually, but I was feeling generous. This is my good deed for the week.”

“You still remembered.”

Roman ignores the accusation. “I gave you all the fucked up ones, just so you know. And I spit in the batter.”

“Mm. Tasty.”

Fuck. Your eyes are sparkling, your smile is so warm. Roman can’t stomach it, how you make him feel sometimes. “Oh, shut up and eat your fucking pancakes, birthday girl,” he snaps, contorting his face to fight his smile. “I hate you. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and eat your pancakes, humming at the delicious flavor. Roman grabs your favorite mug and sets it down next to you, then fills it with the coffee he made. Before you can thank him, the clattering of high heels on the hardwood floor interrupts you. Your mom is on the phone and stops briefly in the dining room when she smells the pancakes Roman made for you. She leans over your shoulder and takes your fork from your hand and cuts off a bite for herself. “Mom,” you complain. 

“You can share,” she scolds, covering the mic on her phone.  

Roman speaks, “Wait, don’t. I made those special for -”

Your mom smiles and kisses Roman on the cheek before he can finish his sentence, and then she’s out the door while still talking with Erica. 

Roman looks to you for your reaction, and your face falls. That beautiful smile on your lips just moments ago, snuffed out like a candle. “I don’t think she remembered,” you tell Roman, defeated. 

“Oh no, I don’t think that’s true,” Roman lies. “I’m sure she just - I don’t know,” he sighs, resigning to the reality of the situation. You can expect some mushy and emotional text from her later, probably tomorrow. “No, you’re right - that was bullshit.” Roman squeezes your shoulder affectionately and tells you he’s sorry. 

Roman means it. He knows exactly how it feels to have a parent forget your birthday. His dad only remembered a handful of times, and every present always felt empty. It’s part of why Roman’s always put effort into making your day special each year. He never got the birthday he wanted or deserved, but he could give that to you.

“Listen,” Roman says, “I gotta run to work now. Don’t party too hard. Or do. I don’t care. It’s your day. Just don’t snort coke in my bathroom, okay? Anywhere else. And don’t do it before, like, four in the afternoon.” Roman pats your shoulder. “Just basic human decency.”

“I’m not gonna do coke in your bathroom, Roman.”

“I just feel the need to say it after the Uncle Ken incident, you know?” You laugh at that, though you shouldn’t. Roman continues, “Anyway, I want you to eat up all of your highly nutritious breakfast and when I come home tonight, you better be in your favorite dress.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m taking you out.”

“You are?” 

“Duh, genius. Like me and you always do on your birthday, remember? Or are you forgetting as you approach your crone years?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off. You’re closer to senile than I am. Pushing fifty there, aren’t you, Roman?”

“Maybe. I’ve got some years left, so watch it,” he warns, then kisses the top of your head. “I fuck like I’m thirty, anyway.”

-

The rest of the day drags on, truthfully. You finish your pancakes, then go upstairs and treat yourself to a bubble bath, your vibrator joining you. Afterwards, you dress yourself in comfortable clothes and drive yourself around the city, picking up birthday freebies from different stores and fast food restaurants. When you come home, you do your hair and makeup in the way that makes you feel prettiest, then look through your closet for your favorite dress, just like Roman said. 

Your favorite dress. It’s not an easy decision. You have a favorite dress that’s comfortable, a favorite dress on your body, a favorite patterned dress. You slide the hangers across the closet rod, contemplating, contemplating…until you come across that one purple dress. 

You remember Roman pulling the zipper of that dress up your spine, his warm hands on your waist. How he fucked you in that closet, bent you over the vanity and split you open. You watched him in the mirror as you gushed on his cock. You wear that dress tonight, then pick out some shoes to match. 

Roman presses his horn repeatedly to call you outside. He’s fucking obnoxious, but you laugh. You rush downstairs and out the door, and when Roman sees you he gets out of the driver’s seat and rounds the front of his car to open up the passenger side door for you. “Look at you, birthday girl,” he says, chewing minty gum. “You look so grown up.”

“Ew. Don’t, please.”

“So that’s your favorite dress, huh?”

Knowing Roman recognizes your dress makes your cheeks warm. “Yeah,” you mumble softly. 

“Mm. Mine too,” he whispers, then shuts the door. He gets back into the driver’s seat and presses buttons on the screen until his car’s Bluetooth connects to your phone. “I think your birthday earns you DJ rights, yeah?” Roman pulls the gear shifter into drive. 

“I’d say so,” you agree, picking out your favorite playlist on Spotify. Roman puts his hand on your thigh, inching it up and under your skirt. He doesn’t do more than an occasional squeeze, and tapping his fingertips on your skin. Still, it excites you. 

Once at the restaurant, Roman takes your hand and helps you out of the car. You read the sign of the restaurant, Adalina, and Roman leads you inside. You notice he’s holding a little gift bag. “Reservation for Roy,” he tells the host, who then ushers you both to a corner booth. The lights are dim, tables covered in floor-length white cloths. There’s people chatting at tables and at the bar, someone softly playing piano. Once seated, the host lights a candle at your table. 

“Your uh - your boy toy from a while ago. Is this where he took you? I thought you said something about not liking it,” Roman asks, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his thigh. 

You shake your head. “No,” you answer. “I’ve never been here.”

“Good, that’s good…you guys still talk?”

You shoot him a look at the same time your server comes by to place a plate of bread and oil at your table and to pour water in your glasses. “Can I start you off with some wine, something else to drink?”

You look at Roman, who shrugs. “All you,” he says. 

“I’m fine with water.” 

Roman says the same. He figured you’d forgo drinking tonight, even if it was just one little glass of wine. That’s why he had you make the decision - he doesn’t want you feeling pulled in either direction. You’re not much of a drinker, with your mom being the opposite. It makes sense. 

Your server leaves to give you a little while to browse the menu and pick out appetizers and dinner. Roman places that gift bag from earlier in front of you. 

“For me?” You reach for the bag. 

“For you,” Roman replies, mocking your tone. 

You pull the tissue paper out of the bag before pulling out the gift itself - it’s…you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s some bizarre figure of a frog dressed as a cowboy, riding…a bearded dragon? Baffled and wearing a smile, you turn it over in your hand. You wonder where on god’s green earth Roman even found something like this. 

“I thought of you,” Roman says. “Has your name written all over it.”

“Oh Roman,” you sigh dramatically, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know, I know.”

You examine the weird little toy some more, giggling at all of the details. Roman���s fucking with you, but you do love the figurine. He knew you would. 

Roman reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a fancy leather box, then slides it across the tablecloth quietly. “What..?”

“Shush. Just open it.”

You put down your figurine and open the box, gasping at the sight. A gorgeous, multi-stone sapphire pendant sparkles above black velvet. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, the design very intentional. Unique. “Roman…”

“Umm,” Roman hums nervously, hovering over you to point at the pendant, “They’re sapphires, so blue- they’re like blueberries,” he stutters, gesturing to the multiple round-cut stones. “‘Cause of the pancakes I make you…uh…sometimes.” Roman points to the little diamonds between the sapphires, “And the diamonds, I don’t know. I thought it was a nice accent sort of thing. And you’re a girl, you know. You like sparkles.”

You’re touched. Not only is the piece gorgeous, but the thought Roman put into it warms your heart and makes it all the more special. There’s no way he just walked into a jeweler’s and picked this out of the display case. He thought up the design and had it custom made, probably weeks or months ago. Had to have. Carefully, you remove the pendant and its box chain from the box. 

“If you don’t l-” You put the piece of jewelry in Roman’s hand and turn your back to him. Roman smiles to himself. He puts the necklace over your chest and brings the chain around your neck, his nervously shaking fingers tickling your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “God, fuck - sorry, hang on,” he whispers, losing and finding his grip on the small clasp before successfully securing it. “There.” Excitedly, you pull out your phone and turn on your front-facing camera to admire the pendant on your skin. 

You turn off your phone and put it in your purse, then fling yourself at Roman, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. Roman freezes at first, then hugs you back gingerly, before finally squeezing you just as tightly, chuckling quietly at your palpable excitement. You pull away from the hug just enough to kiss him quickly on his lips, startling both yourself and Roman. “Yeah, so…” He rubs the back of his neck and blushes wildly, his cock quickly hardening in his pants. Roman coughs and adjusts his napkin over his lap, still feeling the pressure of your lips on his despite their absence. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” he whispers. 

“I love it. Thank you.” You look at Roman with sparkling eyes, pupils blown wide as you beam at him. It makes him blush even harder, his ears and neck turning red too. 

“Stop it, don’t - quit looking at me like that,” Roman scolds, avoiding eye contact. “It - it’s nothing.”

“I don’t know,” you reply, “I think it’s something.”

“Yeah, of course you think that. Because that’s the problem with your generation. You put labels on everything and think you’re all so special. Snowflakes,” he rants. “God, I can’t stand you people. You especially. I’d get that necklace for anyone.”

Defensive. He’s so fucking comically defensive, and it tickles you. “Hey, Roman,” you purr, in the mood to tease. 

Roman looks at you wearing a seemingly permanent smile on your lips as you touch and toy with your pendant. “What? What now?” he asks, flustered and impatient. 

“You’re kinda pink.”

“I’m not…pink,” Roman mumbles.

“You are. You’re blushing.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am not blushing.”

“No, you’re totally blushing. Your cheeks are all rosy.”

Roman buries his face in his hands and groans, eliciting a sweet giggle from you. The way you look at him, how you’re acting and making him feel. Tripping over his words, his heart hasn’t stopped pounding, cock achingly hard since you pecked his lips. You make him feel weak, and you’re not supposed to. Not like this. 

Your server returns then. “Are we ready to order?”

“Yes,” Roman quickly answers. “I’ll have the…fuck. One - one sec.” Roman raises a finger as he browses the menu. Sorry, you mouth to the server. “Entrees, entrees…” he mumbles.

“It’s right here,” you whisper, pointing to the entree section of Roman’s menu. His large bulge catches your eye, and you smile mischievously. When did that happen?

“Okay. Yeah. I think I’ll have the charred fil- fuck.”

Your server’s eyes widen at Roman, who quickly apologizes. Your hand is on his bulge, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants. 

“He wants the charred filet,” you cut in, answering for Roman. “I’ll have the gnocchi. Thank you,” you smile sweetly at the waiter, stroking Roman’s bulge over his pants. Silently, Roman gives the man a thumbs up and waves him away. Roman bites his lip as he waits for him to go back to the kitchen. “Alright, fuck this,” Roman snaps, squeezing your wrist and forcibly removing your hand from his lap. “You’re out of line.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re being weird. Are you feeling okay?” 

“We’ve had a nice night, you know. Do you really wanna do this?”

“Do what?”

“Cute.” Roman wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his side. “I give you an inch and you take a mile.” 

“You’re still so flushed,” you tease. This time, Roman doesn’t smile bashfully. Instead, he wears a frown and puts his hand on your knee, under the skirt of your dress. His palm slides up your thigh until his fingers meet your panties, and he teases you over the fabric. “Ooh. Look who’s wet,” he mocks, feeling your sticky dampness. Roman hooks his fingers under your panties and pulls them, sliding them down your thighs. “Lift up. They’re coming off.” 

“What are you doing?” you hiss. You hold his forearm in both of your hands, attempting to pry his hand away from your lap. His muscles flex beneath your palm as he fights against you. Roman’s taking this much farther than you did.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You have to stop. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Not like this, not here, not - Jesus Christ.” Roman tugs your panties down to your knees, then lifts your legs over his lap so he can remove them the rest of the way. It’s not long before you’ll be soaking through your dress.

“You’re not behind the wheel anymore.” Roman stuffs your soaked panties into his pocket and spreads your legs wide, one of your thighs still resting on his. “Shouldn’t have been in the first place.” You’re completely exposed right now, anyone could see what Roman’s doing to you. What you’re letting him do to you. He wriggles his fingers underneath the skirt of your dress and presses his thumb against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and jerk your body, hitting your free leg against the table. The utensils on your plate clatter loudly, and Roman’s glass of water spills over and onto the tablecloth. Another guest at the restaurant looks at you, and you force a smile at them. “Ooh, nice one,” Roman taunts.

Roman’s rubbing you in circles now, using his free hand to tug your dress up and look at your bare pussy under the warm light of the candles at your table. You look at him with pleading eyes, begging him, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Roman. Not here. Not like this.”

“Yes, here, and yes, like this. Don’t fucking argue with me.” Roman buries two fingers into your cunt, pushing them in and out of you slowly, collecting your arousal. “You didn’t think this one through, did you?” 

He drags his slick fingers up and down your folds, feeling you becoming wetter by the second. He circles your clit lazily, rubbing it gently, listening closely to the wet noises you make. Your waiter returns with your meals, and just like you did to Roman, Roman keeps his hands on you. “Better keep it together,” he murmurs in your ear, pulling your skirt back over the front of your thighs. 

Your server sets Roman’s filet in front of him, then your gnocchi down in front of you. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Roman answers. His demeanor has totally shifted. He’s cool, he’s back in control. “What are your desserts tonight? This one here has a pretty severe sweet tooth.”

“Dessert specials,” the server repeats. “I have to think. They change them up on us a lot.”

“Oh, take your time. We’ve got all night. Don’t we, kiddo?” 

“Mhm. Yep.” 

Roman takes a spoonful of his mashed potato side as your waiter thinks. “Tiramisu, of course,” he says. 

“Oh, well. Naturally.” Roman’s fingers slide down until he’s pressing them right against your slick little hole. 

“We have a cookie plate, too. A chocolate and hazelnut mousse cake. And a pineapple angel cake. And gelato.” 

Roman slides his fingers into your tight pussy, pressing them up to search for that spongy spot inside of you. “What flavors?”

“We have caramel butter cake, chocolate cashew raspberry…” 

The server’s voice becomes distant as he recites flavors. You squeak when Roman reaches your g-spot, swallowing your moans as he curls his fingers repeatedly against it. 

“We have sorbets, too.” 

“What sorbets?” Roman asks.

“Mango calamansi, cantaloupe, and lemongrass.” 

“Quite a dessert menu. Well, what do you think, birthday girl?”

“Tiramisu,” you mumble. 

“I didn’t catch that,” the server replies. “What was that?”

Roman answers for you, “She says she wants tiramisu. She’s just shy sometimes. Aren’t you?”

You glare at Roman, who smiles at you, flashing those perfect little teeth of his. His fingers stop suddenly - he has an idea. He cocks an eyebrow when your hips follow his hand, bucking into his palm, “Interesting,” he says, smiling fondly at your desperation. Your face feels hot and you feel out of your depth here. Roman was right to warn you about getting into this, about it being a nice night.

It worries you to see Roman scanning the room and biting his lip. He’s thinking, which is never good. “Roman. Whatever you’re thinking of doing - don’t.” 

Roman ignores your warning. “Keep telling me no and watch what happens,” he warns, then slides under the table with seamless ease. Once under the table, he pushes your thighs apart and pulls you close to the edge of your seat, putting one of your legs over his shoulder. 

He licks your inner thighs, his scruff abrasive against your damp skin. Roman licks you higher and higher, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth where you can feel his hot breath against your core. His head bulges a bit under the white tablecloth, and then you feel it - one long, fat lick of his tongue up your seam. “Ohhh my god,” you moan, garnering a look from someone at a nearby table. You smile and take a sip of your water with shaky hands. 

Roman starts small with little licks, sucking your labia into his mouth. First one side, then the other. His hands rest on your thighs, hot against your skin and squeezing your flesh. He licks over your clit next, then sucks it between his lips. He alternates between those two actions, stopping and starting all over again and again. You want more and less of it, of Roman, all at once.

Roman gently tugs the hood of your clit up, exposing your most sensitive part of yourself to his lips and tongue. He slides his two fingers inside you once more, fucking you on those digits as he sloppily licks your clit. You arch into his touch and reach under the table to hold his head and tug on his hair. “Roman,” you whimper. 

He coaxes release from you effortlessly, patiently using his tongue to draw steady circles on your clit as he curls those long, bony fingers inside you. You bite your lip so hard it breaks skin, squeezing Roman’s head with your thighs and whimpering softly as you feel the beginning of your climax begin to take over. 

Fuck. Your server is back with the tiramisu Roman had ordered for you. “The tiramisu,” he says, placing it on the table. “I apologize, I forgot to ask - do you and your date want coffee to go with dessert?”

“N- nah- no-” you stutter, though it comes out more as a moan as Roman fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Roman slaps your thigh and you jump in your seat, earning yourself a strange look from your server. Wrong answer. “Sor - yeah - yes. Yes.” Roman kisses your inner thigh in approval. 

Your poor fucking waiter. He nods wordlessly to go back into the kitchen and retrieve coffee for you and Roman. At the same time, Roman emerges from under the table with his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed and out of place, which is entirely your fault. “Fuck,” you whisper. Hastily, you finger-comb his hair into place. 

Roman grabs a spoon and takes the first bite of the tiramisu. “Mm,” he hums. “Sorry, birthday girl. Dad tax.”

Roman scoops up another bite of tiramisu, then brings the spoon to your lips. You take the bite, your cheeks warming when you taste your arousal on the metal. 

-

It’s quiet in the house when you and Roman come home. He stops briefly in the kitchen to put your leftovers away, then follows you up the steps and into your bedroom. “Need help with your zipper?” 

“Mhm. Please” 

Roman pulls your zipper down your back, then turns you around. Before you can think, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you, really kisses you. It’s no accidental peck on the lips, no. It’s intentional, deep and deliberate. His lips are soft, his tongue melding perfectly together with yours. When he pulls away, you look at him with knitted brows.

“You kissed me first, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Then it’s on the table.” 

Roman kisses you once more, then pulls away again. His eyes are dark and sparkling, and warm, too. He touches the pendant on your chest, holding it between his fingers before rubbing his thumb across the stones. It’s so intimate, and it leaves you breathless and confused. “Good birthday?” 

You nod. Roman smiles at you. 

“I’m glad. Goodnight, kiddo.” 

tysm for reading!! please scream nice and horny things at me if you enjoyed ♡ reblogs, comments, and asks are so appreciated and keep me motivated to write for you guys

tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamili @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh

[chrisslvtxx]

biggest fan.

summary: y/n goes to the versus tour and when chris lays his eyes on her, he cant take them off.

cw: cursing, FLUFF, suggestive, touching, pet names (baby, princess.)

authors note!: this is my first time writing something so please dont hate 😭😭😭

————————————————————————————————————————

“oh my god, they are literally right there!” y/n squeals, looking over at her best friend.

“bro, matt looks so hott.” y/f/n exclaims, staring at him in awe.

“so does chris, he look so scrumptious in that hat..” they both get stuck in a trance, staring at the two brothers.

they both get interrupted by security, telling them to move forward because they are next.

“okay, how do i look?” y/n giggles, shes wearing an orange lacy tank top with a short denim skirt.

“sexy as always, motherfucker!” y/f/n laughs, “what about me?” shes wearing the same thine but in blue.

“okay, girls your turn.” the female security guard smiles, letting them go through the barriers.

y/n runs up to chris, hugging him.

“oh my lord, your real! im your biggest fan!”

“hey, love. whats your name?” chris smirks, looking down past her face and his eyes trail down her body.

“im y/n!” she smiles, noticing his eyes wandering, a weird feeling exploding in her lower abdomen.

“y/n.. cute” he said, his voice low. he wraps his arm around her waist as they take the photo.

they both lean in for another hug before y/n and y/f/n walk off.

“i cannot believe what just happened!” y/f/n squealed, “i just fucking hugged matthew sturniolo!”

“hahah.. yeah..” y/n’s mind filled with thoughts of chris’ eyes wandering down her body.

her friend notices, and places a hand on her shoulder “whats up, y/n? you dont seem yourself..”

“chris.. h-he was checking me out?” she stifles a laugh, biting her lips fighting the urge to smile.

“your lying.” y/f/n mouth agape as you speak, not believing a single word.

————————————————————

after the show ends, one of their team members walks up to the two girls, telling them to go backstage.

“hello?” y/f/n speaks into an empty room, her voice echoing.

“y/n?” chris’ voice echoes back, as he walks through the back door.

“uh, chris.. hi!” y/n smiles, her dimples appearing on her soft skin.

“hey.. wassup” he smirks, walking up to her and her friend, “you must be y/f/n, matts out back if you wanna go see him.”

“i- uh yeah?” she quickly walks outside, leading her own way towards matt.

“fuck.. your so pretty..” chris mumbles under his breath, his hands trailing down to your waist.

“chris? wha-what are you doing?..” she breathes out, curious of what’s happening.

“you want me to stop? huh?” he smirks, knowing that hes driving her crazy.

“i- no..no..” y/n bites her bottom lip, stifling a giggle.

“you dont know how crazy you were driving me while i was up on stage.. this top, fuck, its doing things to me baby..” he chuckles lowly, his voice raspy.

“yeah? you like?” she becomes more confident with her words, her tone more stern.

“yeah princess, yeah i do..” he smirks, dropping his head to her neck, as one of his hands trail up towards her throat gripping it gently.

she whimpers softly at the feeling, he presses soft, gentle kisses along her collarbone.

“let me hear your pretty noises, baby..” he keeps pressing kisses to her body. “tell me what you want, baby, what do you want me to do?”

“i-i dont know..” she hums, stuck in a daze as his lips are against her.

he chuckles softly, “you dont know? you dont want me to touch you? you dont want me to kiss you? no?”

“i-chris, we cant.. you know we cant..” she replied, knowing she cant give in to him.

“you’re right, princess.. we can’t..” he agrees, his hands trailing down from her waist and throat and gripping her ass.

“im sorry..” she puts her head down, he grabs her chin, making her look up at him as he towers over her.

“don’t apologise, baby.. its fine” he presses a kiss to her forehead, before letting go of her body.

she smiles, but it falters a tiny bit as he retreats from her presence.

“i better get going, baby..” he smiles, before passing her his phone, a sign to give him her number.

she gladly takes it and types her name and number into his contacts, before handing it back to him.

“thank you baby.” he smirks, before leaving her alone in the basement of the venue.

shes left there, puzzled, for about 5 minutes before y/f/n walks in again.

“tell me everything.”

————————————————————

[rosenclaws]

Congrats on 600 followers! You deserve it so much! Your writing is truly remarkable!!! 💜💜

For a drabble - I think you’d do amazing with fluff prompt #71 and smut prompt #98 with Charlie Kenton! 🥹

Join my 600 follower celebration!

Hi thank you sm!!!! More Charlie love lets goooo!!

71- “Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me.”

98 - “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, unprotected sex.

"We need to talk." You hear Charlies voice behind you. It was late and you were busy trying to fix the arm on some old fighting robot.

"I don't think we do." You said without looking up. Wiping your face as you set down your tools.

God why did he have to show up here. You know what he wanted to talk about and you wanted to pretend it never happened. Charlie was a flirt and you knew he was so you had promised not to give in to his annoyingly charming ways. Of course you were interested but a relationship isn't something you wanted right now. It's complicated.

But you ended up at the same bar and with a couple drinks your strength to pretend you weren't attracted to him diminished with every sip. One thing led to another and well…You kissed him. Not the innocent peck on the lips kiss either. Sloppy, dirty making out in the alleyway next to the bar. It would have turned into more if you didn’t get interrupted by the bouncer.

“Come on, you’re telling me that it all meant nothing?” Charlie asks. He’s standing behind you now. Chest to your back. He smells so damn good. You reach for your wrench but he gently pins your hand down.

“I was a few drinks in Charlie.” He chuckles and lean in. Lips so close to your ear.

“Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me.” He turns you around. Caging you in against your work bench.

“You kissed me, not the other way around.” He’s got this stupid grin on his face. The one he wears when he knows he’s got the win. Cocky little shit.

“Shut up.” You growl as you pull the collar of his shirt towards you. Kissing him just like that night. Fuck it, maybe you’re done pushing him away. The kiss in the alley was everything you dreamed of and you wanted more.

Charlie’s taken by surprise but acts quickly. Fighting to take control of the kiss with all his might. Thank god it’s late and no one’s here anymore. Clothes are being tossed to the ground as you both finally take what you want. Fuck he says he’s been out of commission but he’s still so built.

“So fucking pretty.” He groans as he bends you over the desk so your ass is perfectly in front of him. He’s mesmerized. So perfect, so pretty. All for him. His hands are running down your sides to your ass. He’s taking his sweet time and you’re sick of it.

“Will you just hurry up and fuck me.” You hiss. Hips moving back to grind against his cock.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.” He spits in his hand and rubs it along his dick before gently sliding it into you.

Your hands grip the table as he goes too slow for your liking. He's got a tight grip on your hips. Stilling you from moving before he's ready. You moan loudly as he starts to fuck his hips into you roughly.

"Charlie!" You gasp as he slaps your ass hard. He feels you clench around him so he does it again and again until your ass is stinging from the pain.

"Does it hurt babe? Don't worry I'll make it better." He coos as he bends over so he can go even deeper.

"C-Careful, don't wanna hurt your back." You say as mockingly as you can.

You're not very convincing though as he pounds into you. He thinks its cute. You've always been cute but now that you're falling apart on his cock it makes you even more so. He pulls out and guides you to turn around. He kisses you roughly and snakes his hands around your waist. You maneuver yourself onto an empty work bench. He bites your lip and sticks his tongue into your mouth when you groan.

You scratch at his back as he teases your cunt with the tip of his cock. You lean back onto the table and Charlie slips back in. He has no intentions of slowing down, hell bent on ruining you all night. The hard surface scratches into your back painfully but you barely even notice.

"My back is just fine babe," He leans down until he's face to face with you. His eyes wide with lust and a smirk on his face.

"I'm more worried about yours."

[michaela-o]

Hi hello everyone :D🧡

So a while back i made a post about Cybertronians witnessing humans being feral when in fight or flight response or how humans act when we are on adrenaline in general because i really like this idea. But hear me out- :D

Protective, scared and angry human = very scary human

We all have this natural need and drive inside us to protect. Wether it's the person we love, family or friends. I myself am very protective when it comes to anyone i love. I would throw myself in front of a bear if i had to. Or i would fight anything and anyone if i had to protect the people i love.

Now imagine if the human was the size as an average cybertronian: (slight warning for blood at the end)

The Lost Light got under attack by the infamous DJD and everything goes to shit so quickly no one has time to react as the deadly members tear through the ship and with Tarn having one goal in mind and that was to find Megatron. His optics burning with lust for killing him. Eventually he finds him and they both fight together. The human is watching this from the security office locked in with other members of the Lost Light. They all watch in horror and worry as they both fight. But Tarn doesn't play fair. As Megatron gets knocked by him the other bots notice as the human's breath quickens, their frame is shaking a bit and their teeth are tightly gritted together. Their protective drive has woken up.

Enough is enough..

You know what Megatron did..but no one has the right to take away someone else's life..especially someone like Tarn...Megatron was almost like the father the human claimed to never have..

As the human turns swiftly to unlock the door the other bots try to stop them but the human is determined and full of anger and adrenaline as they push past the bots who are taken aback. The bots are not fast enough as the human is already sprinting towards the scene where everything was happening. So many thoughts and emotions ran through them as they sprinted..anger, fear (you know because it's still fucking Tarn)

But no they aren't backing away now.

As they round a corner they barely make it in time because Tarn was already aiming his canon at Megatron.

The human suddenly jumps in front of Tarn and they srunch their nose and bare their teeth at him, their arms spread over Megatron. Tarn stares in disbelief and then he chuckles. You may be the size of a cybertronian but you're still a fragile dumb human.

"If you want him..you're gonna have to go through me first.."

As the human growled no one wanted and couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing back at the security room on the cameras. Thats it the human has gotten crazy. NO ONE would do a thing like this. It's like you were asking to be killed. It's the DJD.. Even Megatron's expression almost changed to bewildered and wide eyed.

Of course the human got a good beating from Tarn but there was just something in them. This weird wild look in their eyes as blood dripped down their forehead into their eye and down their chin. Scratched and battered with at least 4 broken ribs they still stood with determination. Tarn was enjoying this but it was getting frustrating and on his nerves. Tarn is deadly and strong but the human was agile and quick. As Tarn was about to finish Megatron once again (because he thought the human was finished) they once again threw themeselves in front of him with this crazy look in their eyes and the next words rang out in everybody's ears.

"Over, my, dead body..."

The human was shaking, growling and huffing slowly loosing their strenght but reinforcements were quickly arriving and the DJD was in disadvantage so they had to fall back but of course Tarn would be back and would take the human with him the next time.

And this is how i think bots view this :3

From the cybertronian perspective:

The bots, often more concerned with survival and the war’s toll on their world i think would most likely react with shock. Tarn is a fanatic Decepticon who enforces ideology without mercy, would represent the last person they’d expect a human to stand against. They might interpret the human's bravery as foolhardy or even reckless, given Tarn’s terrifying reputation, but they may also see it as a powerful symbol that courage and conviction can transcend size and power.

From Tarn's Perspective:

I think Tarn, who worships Megatron’s original vision and detests any deviation from it, would be utterly incensed. The idea of a human—whom he views as nothing more than an insect—intervening to protect Megatron would enrage him. He’d view it as an ultimate insult to Megatron's legacy and to the Decepticon cause, likely intensifying his resolve to destroy them both to "cleanse" this offense.

Aaaa i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing :3🧡 here i also drew a picture of the human so you could imagine the whole scenario better :3

[ivrousae]

✦ Apocalypse

Arguments with ZB1

Hyung line | Read Maknae line version here (on progress.)

- Genre: angst, hurt, comfort, fluff

- Pairings: zb1 x reader

- Warnings: swearing, explicit language, mentions of drinking, etc. ! This writing might be sensitive for some people !

- a/n: someone requested this and i wrote it a while ago..this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts yo😭😭 hope yall like it lol, i’ll write maknae line soon ok

Playlist:

- Jiwoong: Cry - CAS,

- Hao: Anaheim - NIKI

- Hanbin: Understand - Keshi & Seasons - Wave To Earth

- Matthew: Promise - Laufey

- Taerae: Try Again - Jaehyun, d.ear

✧ Jiwoong

- Your relationship with Jiwoong is fine, but there are days when the two of you have your hectic days, and this week is one of them. Jiwoong is busy, making him stressed and often frustrated, and the same goes for you, the whole week would be filled with sudden arguments coming around here and there, and it’s about time that you’ve had enough. “You know, I wish we never-” “Don’t say it, you know you shouldn’t be saying things you don’t mean,” Jiwoong said coldly, cutting off your sentence before you could continue, “Well, what if I mean it?” you forced out a chuckle, “No you don’t y/n, stop it” Jiwoong sighed, piercing your eyes with his strong yet meaningful gaze.

Without realizing it, you were shouting at Jiwoong, releasing all of the emotions you’ve held the whole week, “Why couldn’t you be there? I was there when you were stressed, I was there when you needed me but you weren’t there, Jiwoong? Where were you when I was all alone? Where were you when I needed you the most? Huh?” you said, tears falling from your eyes as you pushed Jiwoong’s shoulder, “Babe…” he slowly said, realizing that he messed up, realizing that he hurt you. Jiwoong placed one of his hands on your shoulders, the other hand placed on your cheeks, wiping off your tears as he kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry, let’s talk it out slowly, yeah?” he said, his tone full of guilt “Give me some time” You stepped away from him, making your way to your bedroom before locking yourself in.

[ read Jiwoong’s text before continuing ]

After replying to his texts, you went out of your bedroom to eat the dish he cooked in the kitchen. As you made your way toward the kitchen, you found Jiwoong lying down on the couch, you sighed, grabbing the plate of food that he prepared and placed it on the table in the living room before sitting down beside Jiwoong, “Hey” you sighed, taking a bite of the food “Hey babe, have you gotten the time you needed?” he asked softly, sitting himself down to sit closer to you, you nodded, avoiding eye contact, “Look, I’m sorry, yeah? I was so carried away with work, that I didn’t notice I was hurting you so much, I’ll be here for you now, so I’m sorry, babe” “It’s fine, I was carried away with work too that I got frustrated, I just don’t want to fight with you again” You looked at Jiwoong who already had his eyes on you “I love you,” he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head “And I always will”

────────────

✧ Hao

- With the same reason as Jiwoong, you and Hao often fight because one or both of you would get carried away from stress. When Hao is busy with work, and you’d also be busy with your work, the two of you would get sensitive, you’d talk back, and he’d talk back, and then it’d just turn into a big fight.

“Can you not?” Zhang Hao said as he stopped typing from his laptop, his voice slightly raised as his frustration grew “Huh? I was just trying to get something” you replied, it was clear that you were also frustrated and annoyed at that point, “You keep on coming back and forth, I'm trying to work on something, stop being so fucking loud” he spoke out again, his tone filled with anger, “What the fuck, Hao? I’m trying to work on something too right now, I’m sorry for being loud but can’t you say it nicer?” You scoffed, the volume of your voice raising and raising, “No, I can’t say it nicer because you’ve been such a bother this whole time, Y/n.” he shouted “Hao?..” you quietly spoke as his words pierced you straight in the heart “Get out” he firmly said, “Why are you like this?” You said as tears fell down your face, you walked out of the door before slamming it, leaving your boyfriend all alone.

Hao felt a little guilty about his words, but he quickly ignored his feelings and continued with his work, he kept on getting distracted yet again, but this time, it was because of the sobs he heard coming from you in your bedroom.

[ read Zhang Hao’s text before continuing ]

After replying to your text, he went over to the kitchen to make you your favorite drink before knocking on your door “Baby, it’s me” he softly said “What do you want?” you replied, your voice still shaky from crying so much “I want to apologize, I made your favorite drink too” he sighed “Just say it from there, I don’t want to see you yet” you spoke out, Hao took a deep breath, he wanted to see you, but he knew that you needed your space, “I’m sorry, you know how I get when I’m stressed, I’m sure you’re tired of having to deal with me when I get like this babe. I’m so proud of you for being able to be so strong, I’m proud of you for also working so hard, and I’m proud of you for loving me. I’ll treat you better starting from now, so let me hold you, please?” he begged, his voice starting to get shaky mid-way.

As he stood in front of your bedroom door, he saw the door open, showing you with your red eyes, you walked closer to him, pulling him into a hug, and he did the same to you. The two of you hugged each other for a long time before letting go of each other “Let’s get ready to sleep, it’s getting late” Hao smiled, tucking back your hair behind your ears.

“I love you so much” he spoke out, giving your lips a quick peck.

────────────

✧ Hanbin

You had a team dinner after work, but you didn’t tell your boyfriend Hanbin about it because you didn’t think that it would be that big of a deal.

But after the event, you opened the door of your front porch and entered your house late at night. When you walked in, you saw Hanbin sitting down on one of the chairs in the kitchen aisle, his eyes focused on his phone “Hey bin” you quietly said, “Why didn’t you read my messages?” he replied as he looked at you, his voice slightly annoyed and his face straight, his eyes showed mixed emotions, from worried, to anger, to sadness, to tiredness.

You showed a confused expression on your face, “you texted me? I didn’t get the notification I'm sorry” you apologized while checking your phone, realizing that he texted you many times while being worried, “Look at the time, where were you this whole time?” he asked, his tone sounded angry but his volume was still low, “I had a team dinner, I didn’t think that it was a big deal so I didn’t tell you” you replied “Team dinner? You went to a team dinner and didn’t tell me because you didn’t think it was a big deal? Y/n, you could’ve gotten drunk, what if something happens to you? Huh? What if you get hurt, or they do something to you?” he spoke out, his volume getting louder and louder “Hanbin, it isn’t a big deal, I’m here now and nothing happened so calm down” “The least you could do is inform me, is it that hard to text me before hand? It’s already midnight and you just got home a few minutes ago, you know I hate it when you don’t inform me about things like this” he brushed up his hair that was covering his eyes before placing both of his hands on the counter, breaking the eye contact he had with you “Okay fine, I’m sorry, I’m tired right now so just stop making this such a big deal” “This isn’t the first time, y/n” “Oh my god, Sung Hanbin I said I’m tired, leave me alone” You shouted, walking yourself out the door, leaving your boyfriend standing alone.

As you stormed out of your house, you drove yourself to a place that could calm you down, you felt bad for storming out on Hanbin like that, but you were too tired to listen to him, you know he was worried about you, but you still needed time.

You sat down on the bench beside the river, focused on the sight of the night sky before feeling your phone vibrate from notifications.

[ Read Hanbin’s text before continuing ]

You stayed for a few more minutes before driving yourself back home. When you arrived and entered your house, Hanbin rushed over to you before hugging you “I’m sorry sweetheart, I was just worried about you, I didn’t want you to get hurt because I care so much about you and I love you. I’m sure you’re tired so I prepared the bath for you, go clean yourself up and talk with me, yeah?” he spoke softly, placing soft rubs on your back and your head “You didn’t have to do that, Bin” you replied as your chin rested on his shoulders “Well I already did” he laughed “Again, I’m sorry” he sighed “It’s fine, you did nothing wrong” you let go of the hug before rubbing his shoulders

“I love you” he enunciated and pulled you into a meaningful kiss.

────────────

✧ Matthew

Matthew was going out with his friends and he promised to be home by 8 PM, so you stayed up and waited for your boyfriend to come back home. However, it seemed like he had forgotten his promise because the time was already 10.30 PM and there were no signs of Matthew yet.

The time was 00.08 AM and you heard the front door open, by that time, you were already annoyed at your boyfriend who forgot his promise, so you stayed in your room, not wanting to go downstairs and see him. Your bedroom door opened, showing your boyfriend with his black top and jeans, “Hey babe, you’re still awake?” he said lazily as he placed down his hat, you replied with a hum, too frustrated to reply with words, “Forgot I promised to come home earlier, my bad” he said, even with his apology, it seemed like he wasn’t so sincere with his words. “Why did you come home so late?” you asked “I was out with my friends, what did you expect? You could’ve just slept and not waited for me, you know?” he replied “Of course, I waited for you, but then you weren’t home yet and I couldn’t sleep so I continued waiting?” you scoffed “Well I’m home, so just go to sleep and stop being so dramatic” he groaned, leaving you to change in the bathroom.

As he came back from the bathroom, you tried to talk to him about it but he completely ignored you, not wanting to talk to you, “What the fuck Matthew” you sighed, seeing Matthew getting up and leaving the room again.

Matthew, who tried to ignore you, seemed to be struggling when he went downstairs to leave you alone, he tried to distract himself by watching the TV, but he’d constantly fidget with his fingers, or he’d constantly let out a deep sigh, signaling that he had a lot in mind. He gave up on trying to ignore you and quickly pulled out his phone from his pockets to text you

[ Read Matthew’s text before continuing ]

Matthew went back upstairs, knocking on your bedroom door before entering “Babe” he softly said “Hm?” you replied “Can I hug you?” he asked, making you chuckle “Why?” “Look, I’m sorry, I know I was wrong, I just felt tired and I said something that hurt you” he apologized “It’s okay, thank you for apologizing sincerely” you replied, going over to Matthew to hug him “Fuck, I love you so much” he muttered, kissing the top of your head in between your hug

────────────

✧ Taerae

Fighting was never a big thing in your relationship with Taerae. When you guys fought, it was always about something unserious and silly, and there were barely any times where the fight gets BIG.

But the two of you often bicker with each other, especially because you often get sulky with Taerae. This time, Taerae jokingly said something about your cooking, of course, it was a joke, because honestly speaking, he thinks your cooking was so good, but it was natural for the both of you to make joking comments and bully each other from time to time, it’s like your love language with each other. But what he didn’t realize, is that you’ve had a little bit of a long day that day, and you were already in a bad mood before he commented about your cooking. You knew he was just joking, but you were still feeling a little mad, you didn’t feel the best after all.

“Is it that bad?” you asked after Taerae commented on your cooking “Yes” he laughed “I’m joking babe, it’s good” he smiled, patting your shoulder as an apology, but you already felt bad, you showed a sad yet frustrated expression on your face, avoiding eye contacts with your boyfriend “Hey, babe, I was joking, I’m sorry, it’s really good” he apologized again, this time, with words, “Still” you whined “Aw, baby don’t get mad, I’m sorry” he squished your cheeks, but it didn’t make you feel any better “I’m going upstairs, enjoy your food” you rolled your eyes, leaving the table before going upstairs into your room.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that” Taerae groaned at himself when he saw you leave, massaging the temple of his head before finishing the food you have cooked him. He wanted to go upstairs and talk to you but he knew you just needed your time, so he let you stay inside your room before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

[ Read Taerae’s text before continuing ]

After reading Taerae’s text, you wiped off your tears and went downstairs to see him after you felt a little better, Taerae immediately stood up from the couch when he saw you walking downstairs “BABY” he shouted, running over to you before hugging you and kissing your lips “I’m sorry, I love you so much, please tell me when you‘ve had a long day, okay?” he comforted you before planting one last kiss on your jaw.

[hawkinshorror94]

Headcannons for a Tav who exhausted after a day of staying home with the kids

(If you guys like these I'd like to make a second one with Wyll, Karlach, Zevlor, and Rolan.)

AN- Happy Birthday to me! I am highly intoxicated while posting this so sorry if it sucks ASS.

Minthara

-”My dear, why are our children making so much noise? I cannot hear myself think.”

-Finds you in absolute shambles over two unruly toddlers, one is crying because you gave her what he asked for and the other is practically hanging from the curtains.

-”In Menzoberranzan, a mother kills children who are bad, but I have grown quite fond of them and would hate for our children to meet an untimely demise at the end of a silver sword.” 

-Though you want to chide Minthara for threatening to kill the kids as a punishment it works, but you’ll definitely have to talk about it with her later

Gale

-“Why are you crying, are you alright, is she alright?” *Gale panic*

-Finds you in bed crying because of some awful postpartum.

-”My mother has been wanting to see her, I’ll bring her over there for a bit. You rest, you bathe, I’ll bring home food. I’ve got her. I’ve got you.”

-Gale bundles her up and makes sure you have everything that you need before he goes. When he comes back, he brings too many gifts from his mother and food for you. And of course, your favorite sweet treat.

Astarion

-“Are there gremishkas loose in our home?”

-Astarion wakes from trance around sundown to find you crying over a fussy teething dhampir and an equally whiny toddler who didn’t have a nap. 

-”Do you think we should go to the night market, little one? And I think your baby brother would also appreciate the night air as well” *Astarion with a baby bundled to his chest (with a sling) so he can always have a free hand in my guilty pleasure*

-When he comes back with both kids settled, he puts you to bed to rub your feet and tell you how much he appreciates you creating two miracles after he’s had such a miserable life.

Shadowheart

-”Come on boys, you can help mummy on the farm this afternoon.”

-Shadowheart wasn’t blind to your snippy tone with her and she also wasn’t blind to the problem either. 2 over ecstatic boys who were just over the moon that school was out for the summer. 

-”Tomorrow you all can help me tend to the plants and animals all day. Does that sound fun?” 

-Shadowheart will smother you in kisses that night after you’re finally a little less overstimulated, if you ask maybe she’ll do some of those Sharran torture tactics on you after the boys are tucked in of course.

Halsin

-”They are children, my heart. They are untamed beasts.”

-Halsin will laugh and kiss your forehead as if you’re the silliest of geese, but he’ll still take out all of the adopted children, just to give you a much needed break.

-The kids come back with every rock, flower, and stick that made them think of you. Each one of them telling you of the adventures daddy Halsin had taken them on that day.

-”It is my job as your husband to care for the children as well, my heart. Just tell me if you need a break.” 

Lae’zel

-“Xan, your mother is the liberator of our people and you’re treating her like any common istik.”

- Lae’zel takes the overzealous boy out to run him through some drills. When he comes back inside he’s tired and remembers why you’re his favorite parent. 

-”I told him we don’t make women cry. Especially our mothers and then I made him do twenty sword swings.”

-Xan doesn’t like swords so he will definitely not be acting a fool like that again. 

-*I wasn’t really sure what to do with Lae’zel because I didn’t raise the egg with her. We did hot lesbian gith and bard stuff And by stuff, I mean fighting Vlaakith’s warriors. 

[porrabett]

Rio, Nicholas and Agatha through time

There’s something that I noticed about Rio and Nicholas, that I really can’t understand why, maybe someone can see some foreshadowing or meaning on it, I don’t know.

They gave Rio a birthmark, and I noticed this birthmark just shows up in the scene before Nicholas birth. Aubrey Plaza don’t have it, so they really put it on her for the scene and for this scene only.

After it, when she comes to get Nicky’s soul and in the present moment, she doesn’t have it anymore. I thought that they would put some birthmark on Nicholas in a way to show he is Rio’s son too, but that’s none birthmark in the baby. And even with Nicholas as a 6 years old, he has three birthmarks on his face, but in different spots, it seems more is just because the actor already had it, not about Rio. It really made me curious why they would put this birthmark in her, and just in that moment.

Second, and just to keep moving the “Rio is Nichola’s mom too” train. I think she really would meet him at night, or maybe in some moments he was alone, like when Agatha was killing the witches with The road scam.

I think in the moment of the two goodbye kisses, not just was something Rio already talked to him, so he knew what he needed to do, but the kisses were giving by his soul.

The way that Rio was there and he just goes in her direction, like is something he already did others nights.

Rio interrupts him going to her and points back to Agatha, and she does it in a affectionate way, like a mother remembering her son something she has already told before.

He looks at Agatha and then stops, like he was think in something, like Rio has already prepared him for this moment, and he knew exactly what he needed to do. As if Rio has told him that in one specifically day, when she would visit him, he would say goodbye to his mama before he would go with his mother. And we can see that there is no hesitation, fear or doubt, he just stops, like he is remebering something he was told, and then goes to do what he already knew he would had to.

And then the two kisses scene, it really looks like he is giving two goodbye kisses, one for him and the other for Rio. And it seems like Nicky’s mouth is barely touching Agatha’s cheeks, I think in this moment we maybe are seeing his soul, ready to go.

Just a curious thing, even with Rio and Agatha not being together, Rio still is more in her Green Witch energy, like she knows that even giving Agatha more time, in the end, Nicky will come with her, because his time there was a borrowed time. I think she thought Agatha would understand that, with some time, what she made, and she said it in 1x08.

But we know that didn’t happened, a mother will always want to be with her son, and is a cruel irony that Agatha lost him for Rio, the person who took him away, and because of Rio, as he is most likely Death’s son too, almost like he was born to die.

I believe everytime they would meet again, when Agatha was killing other witches after Nicky’s death, they would fight, Agatha would throw all her sorrow and pain in Rio, Rio would fight for her, and they would make out, or at least reconnect for a moment, like in 1x04.

But then Agatha would leave, almost like she was torturing Rio, denying to Rio the person she loves, the same way Rio denied to Agatha, to be with their son.

I feel this happened again an again through decades, giving an even more dark and complex energy to their relationship, and for them as individuals. The Rio we met in present time is way darker than the one we see in the flashbacks. Then Agatha got the darkhold and hid from her, until Weastview.

That would explain Agatha’s reaction to Rio acepting the deal with her, in 1x08, she wasn’t expecting Rio would say ok, she probably was used to throw all her tantrums to Rio and Rio trying to make amends with it. But not this time, Rio had enough, so Agatha has her surprise face, and the pain, like she feels, for the first time, Rio is giving up on her.

But at the same time she masks it quickly, and we can see she is almost loosing the control over her emotions. Later, with Billy and Jen, she is on full villain mode because Rio let her there, and she still can get out of the road. Rio is the constant in her life, since Salem, no matter what happens, how much they fight, love or hate eachother. They always find themselves in each other’s path.

And we know how this ends.

[alipeeps]

Episode 16

I'm ready for the pain. *whimpers* Bring it on...

.......

Whyyyy is Zhu Yan's (much shorter) hair fully grey when he was younger? Is my boy vain? Did he start colouring it as he got older? 😂

Okay so young Li Lun is a sulky bitch. I'm getting "teenager forced to come on a family holiday and determined to hate it just because" vibes...

Why do I feel like I know the dragon mountain god somewhere?

*goes to check MDL*

Meh, he's done this and My Journey to You (which I only got a few eps into before getting distracted) and two movies that I've not seen. So, no idea why he seems familiar.

Though for some reason (his styling maybe - with the braids and the hint of moustache?) he is giving me Nie Mingjue vibes...

Ahahahaaaa they knew in advance that Zhu Yin was skanky!! 😁

Gotta say (I have mentioned it before) I am loving the narrative device they keep using in this show where they flash back to a previous scene and show more of it/detail that we didn't get shown the first time around that completely reframes the current scene and shows that they were expecting this and had stuff planned in advance...

But wherrrre is my boy Bai Jui during all this? Ying Lei asked this earlier and Zhuo Yichen said he should be with Pei Sijing... I took that at the time to mean they still had no idea that Sijing is the spy and thought he was somewhere safe with her... but could it mean that they do know/suspect and they maybe sent Bai Jiu after her, knowing she would spot him and (trusting she wouldn't actually hurt or kill him - which is a big risk tbh?) would have to stay and guard him, thus keeping Bai Jiu away from the fight *and* taking Sijing out of the fight?

Aiya... Ying Lei living up to his potential as a mountain god...

Uhoh, dragon boy is fighting back with his weather-controlling powers.

And Li Lun is just standing there not doing shit. 😂 Like... dude... they are all occupied with either holding the area or spell-casting inside it. You could just walk up and stab em and they wouldn't be able to do much to fight you off...

Oh shit no... dragon dude is not controlling the weather... he's making it night time rather than day...

Which means... blood moon

Oh SHIT!

Welp Zhu Yan pulling in all the malicious qi has at least dealt with the creatures outside the gate... but on the other hand you've now got a MUCH bigger problem!!

Well fuck

So the Baize token was what was shackling Li Lun and that's why he wanted it broken... bullshit about breaking the barrier between the wasteland and the mortal world so demons could be free was just the lie he sold Zhu Yin to get him on board (just like the lie he sold Qing Geng - this is his modus operandi)

God this is glorious imagery...

Goddamit though, Zhu Yan has absorbed all the malicious qi and very clearly lost control but all he does for the longest time is just hover there... he doesn't immediately go on an indiscriminate rampage. I can only imagine him spending all that time hovering just... trying to cling to control...?

And the first person he *does* go for is Zhu Yin, who betrayed him and his friends.

Ugh the dismissive ease with which he shrugs off the mountain god's power...

Oh man, the slow deliberate malice in the way he moves...

I shouldn't be finding this expression hot AF, right?

OMG look at how distressed he is - even after everything Li Lun has done - at seeing his friend be sealed...

So... it was *again* a blood moon that caused Zhu Yan to kill Zhao Wan'er? But... where did the blood moon suddenly come from? Or did it appear *because* Zhu Yan started absorbing malicious qi?

The *sound* in this scene... no music at all... just silence and the over-loud, almost distorted-sounding sounds - slosh of the water from Wan'er's footsteps, her breathing, the washing of the waves....

So. Fucking. Atmospheric.

But wait, in this memory he attacks Wen Xiao and (it looks like?) ?breaks her neck? (Or does he just knock her unconscious?) That didn't happen though in the other depictions we've seen of this scene? Is this memory faked/altered? In fact... how the fuck can Li Lun be showing her a "memory" of shit that went down after he was sealed? He wasn't there to see any of this? I call bullshit! Unless... he somehow stole this memory from Zhu Yan?

Oh SHIT is the blood moon where he killed Wan'er the same one in which he attacked Demon Hunting Bureau?!!

This song by Hou Minghao is so melancholy and haunting... and even more playing over this scene...

Oh what the fuck Sijing actually fighting on the side of the good guys? Or is she...?

Also wtf happened to her boss who was outside the gate. Why has he not gotten involved in the latest shenanigans... he wants Zhu Yan's core still, doesn't he?

Oooh baby bro enters the fray!!

Using Ying Lei's blood to fire up the sword?!

Oooh divine blood, demon blood & the Bingyi clan blood on the sword = maximum effort!

Ooooooh is he faking? I've been slightly spoiled about Zhu Yan giving him immunity to his one word spell... are we gonna get another flashback showing that that already happened and Zhuo Yichen is once again pretending to be in a coma to get the upper hand?

Fuck WHAT?!! You end it THERE?!!!

And it's fucking 3am, I cannot watch another episode, I will have to go to bed and SUFFER until tomorrow!!

[lopposting]

I have the feeling that originally, earlier in development, P was supposed to die at the end.

(Or, About more than a year after the official release,

the headcanon that changed everything for me.)

So the ending I'm talking about is this, the Rise of P ending.

But what really made me think this is this event in 2022. (people back then correctly guessed might be one of the endings or the ending of the game. Taking from this post here)

At G-Star Neowiz booth in 2022, there was a promotional statue of the Saintess statue in the game, except the figurine of the puppet is strangely suspended, as if it's literally ascending to heaven. The post writer also notes even then that the figurine looks like P. (The literal Rise of P)

There's also some footage of the figure here: (around 1:16)

The symbolism seems very very apparent, as though Neowiz were spoiling their own game two years before release. Not only is the figure literally ascending to a higher plane (imagery often associated with death), the statue itself is an inference to a famous statue of Mary mourning the death of her son. The writer of an article covering Neowiz's section at the event also notes that the ascending figure looks like P, and that it has a feeling of melancholy.

Beginning and End

Around the time of the release I think what was going around was that Rise was being considered as the "true" ending. It's interpretably the best possible outcome of the game, but I feel like it's also because it made the most sense thematically (the puppet -> Human ending, and the saintess statue being foreshadowed earlier). But P's collapse at the end was also widely (mis)interpreted as his death. And I think that's also because, in a way, it makes the most sense thematically. Puppet awakens in the train, goes on an adventure, and then sacrifices himself for who woke him up in the first place, it's just narratively a very classic and might I say standard thing to do in that very traditional, circular sort of storytelling sensibility.

However, we know that the truth is that P has fallen asleep (a human act). It is still his death in some sorts - but he's leaving a past behind and it's his "rebirth" that is being emphasized now.

And then it hit me.

I don't know if P knows that he will survive reviving Sophia.

Keeping in mind that if P was originally supposed to die - I think the entire end sequence of ROP and the overall tone of it makes SO MUCH sense to me now.

Sophia brings a lone puppet to life in the train, he is animated, listening, fighting. At the end of his journey, so much has changed - but to return her favour perhaps, truly human at heart, he returns her life to her, and then - returns to back to stillness. It’s just a narratively very tight and circular thing to do in a traditional storytelling sense, especially when you consider a kind of tragic korean media sensibility that might have influenced the country in which this studio is based out of. (Film critic Roger Ebert once suggested that he had not yet seen a happy korean film.)

I am not an expert on the Korean cinema, which is considered in critical circles as one of the most creative in the world (“Oldboy” won the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes 2004). I can say that of the Korean films I’ve seen, only one (“The YMCA Baseball Club”) did not contain extraordinary sadomasochism.  "Oldboy" review (2005)

Not to mention... Since release, I've always felt like there was this strange feeling of sadness, of melancholy, permeating throughout the entire game. Of course, we're walking through a destroyed city, but still. And I was glad that that didn't seem lost on other people:

We know that Sophia is able to turn back the clock for our main character, but turning back time is Sophia's ability, and it's possible that she can't just revive anyone once that part of her that animated him was returned back to her. Okay, maybe it's a little contrived - but that hardly matters when audiences can often overlook these things for the sake of a story making a statement. Besides, remembering that P could not even wake up without Sophia's help in the first place, it's possible that for whatever reason, he cannot sustain life on his own. In his POV this might very well be his final act.

Another thing to keep in mind is that P has just lost his father. He's witnessed Polendina's death, Antonia's death, etc., in a string of major losses throughout the game's final arc. We see him mourn over his dad but in the ROP ending it will then cut straightaway to the balcony scene. Regardless of how much time has actually passed, Geppetto's death is the scene right before this one. I don't mean to suggest that this act was one of pure self-destruction, but it is something that we as the audience can't help but feel affects him and the decision we are seeing now.

There's a certain gravitas to the way he's walking towards her that in the released version isn't unjustified, but the tone of the entire sequence has so much conviction and sombreness that it came across as a little odd to me in retrospect. And I also think this is why others might have (mis)interpreted the ending as "he died", because of the tone of this scene. But in line with the game's themes - I remember that often, it's the intent that matters. And if he doesn't know that he's going to survive this, and this is what he chooses is his final act, for all intents and purposes, it IS him sacrificing himself to save Sophia.

Re-contextualizing it this way, I think the balcony scene was maybe originally meant to be him choosing to look at Krat one last time. I definitely think that was the implication now.

P's blue butterfly flying away (his spirit leaving him). I used to think this blue butterfly represented Sophia, but now I feel like it represents P ? as I don't think we ever see this specific blue butterfly anywhere else in the game. [maybe a reach I dunno]

To be honest - when LOP first came out, up until about a week, I really did think he was dead. I was honestly pretty sad about it, but in equal parts I was sort of really impressed that Neowiz would have the guts to kill off their breadwinner straight away [I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT THIS TOO AHH]

So if this ending was originally written to be P's demise, I wonder why the powers that be would have rolled that back. Presumably they need him alive for some sort of future franchise instalment? Maybe they genuinely thought it was just too sad? But there is one thing that doesn't change, and it's what P doesn't know.

The truth is what you make it, I suppose.

Who are you? Are you a puppet or a human being?

[coffeegnomee]

um can i get an explanation of what pb&js plans were in S5 that didnt hold up (help)

Basically Minute, Jumper, Pentar, and Ashwag had a secret plan that they refused to reveal but would only say "trust the process" over and over and assured chat that it was going to be awesome.

They basically streamed 0% of the ideation process, 0% of the struggles, 0% of the surprise successes.

Then on the infamous day, Lifesteal Sunday (5/19/24), Ash went live to build a new pb&j base, so imagine, you're just watching the most normal boring chill base building stream.

Jumper goes live and starts talking to Mapicc about wanting him to ban her because she doesn't agree with her team killing people to make peace on the server, it's a tbh sus but also great moment of improv lore, interesting character development from Jumper. It was all just a lie though. So it wasn't even a real lore moment. (I'm not salty at all. nope)

She leads him around the server, and halfway through her sentence he pops like a grape. Killed (and banned bc it was hardcore mode) instantly by a claymore, a *special* arrow cannon. we already saw arrow canons this season. it was. omg it was so unoriginal and uninteresting and IMMEDIATE, no banter from Mapicc, no evil speech, no possibility of escape, just instant shotgun to the head.

Swap back to Ash stream and him and Minute are absolutely celebrating for a job well done, "thanks for watching the show". What show. You were building a base.

And that was the "trust the process" plan.

But it wasn't quite over. They got wemmbu on and for pt2 of their epic plan they do *something* and suddenly wemmbu isn't immortal anymore so they 4v1'ed him and he died almost instantly.

No explanation, no lead up, barely a villainous speech. While they were gloating and trying to figure out how to further chunk ban wemmbu to make sure he couldn't play anymore Ash finally explained that as a part of Minute's final Presidency Decree he added a mod to the server that meant they could manually turn of Wemmbu's immortality just like wemmbu could manually turn it on. So it was something completely behind the scenes to a degree unfathomable.

Basically, their plan worked flawlessly but it was the most unsatisfying thing to watch of all time. It was too secretive, they allowed for no error, they didn't give the opps a chance, they didn't do an ounce of real rp, and they killed ALL their opps in one fell swoop.

This all after about 2(?) months of doing NOTHING on the server, barely playing, not streaming, refusing to fight, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash a perfect plan.

Also as an additional aside, the Original Perfect Plan(TM) was creating a void trap in Jumper's base to trap Mapicc or Zam (yes. after she stopped them from opening the void). The mining out was streamed but how it would go down was also kept totally secret and then it just got dropped in favor of the claymore. Basically pb&j promised a lot but took their sweet time making it happen to the point where it was very unsatisfying and then they lacked the rp pizzazz and whimsy to make it interesting in other ways.

[vashtijoy]

So the conversation you can have with Futaba in the attic after the interrogation room has always bothered me, she says something along the lines of "You weren't the only one risking your life, y'know? Everyone else was in danger too."

Which... Is a weird thing to say to your best friend/brother figure after he risked getting shot in the head and beaten to a pulp underneath the police station. It just comes off as creating a problem that didn't exist...

Nobody thought the other thieves weren't in danger, No one said that they didn't have it rough.

Just seems like an out of pocket thing to say in that situation. Which makes me wonder if it was yet another translation boo-boo. I don't know for sure, I'm going to keep looking into how I could translate it.

Does this stick out as weird to you? Or is it just me?

Hi, anon, thanks for your question! The immediate answer is that Futaba qualifies that statement a little in Japanese:

Futaba わたしも、みんなも、こう見えて 、わりと体張ってたんだぜ。 watashi mo, minna mo, kou miete, wari to karada hatteta n da ze It may not have looked like it, but everyone else was risking their lives too. [lit. I and the others, despite how it looks, were risking our lives a bit too.]

(Incidentally, note her ze there—a very masculine particle which Futaba is fond of, which goes well with her rather rough and ad hoc speech.)

That wari to means "relatively"; "kind of", or "sort of". "We were all in a bit of a pickle too." As she goes on to emphasise, while Ren was in the most danger, everyone else was in some danger:

Futaba ま、命賭けでホントの逮捕までされた{F1 82}が一番がんばったのは、間違いないけどさ。 ma, inochi kake de honto no taiho made sareta <Ren> ga ichiban ganbatta no wa, machigai nai kedo sa Though there's no doubt you were the most at risk. I mean, you actually got arrested. [lit. but you, Ren, who bet your life and went so far as to get arrested for real, did the most, there's no doubt about that.]

Somewhere along the line Futaba's "you gambled with your life and even got arrested in real life!" has turned into the rather understated "you actually got arrested"—which again contributes to her seeming to understate what Ren endured. Her "you did the most" is 頑張る ganbaru, a word most anime types know very well—it means to give it your all, to keep at it, to persist, to be tenacious; to fight against all odds. "You gave it everything, you bet your life, you got arrested!"

Don't forget that, while Futaba is ICly speaking to Ren, she's also performing exposition here. We, the audience, are the ones who should not forget that all the PTs were in danger. It's a bit clumsy, but what can you do.

I do think this exchange of Futaba's has to be taken together with the immediate followup section, which is all about what the PTs had to do—the events of the 11/20 cinematic, after Ren's arrest:

Futaba: Well, since the rest of us didn't get captured, we had to act. Futaba: We had to pretend we never wanted you to get arrested… Pretend the suicide news was a real shock… Futaba: Basically, we had to act like we didn't know anything, 24/7.

acting vs acting

I'm going to highlight the first line of this one, since it contains an error:

(Doesn't she look pleased, all of a sudden? It doesn't quite match the tone of the English—but goes very well with her pride over their little one-act play.)

Futaba 捕まらなかったわたしらの、一番のシゴトは『芝居』だ。 tsukamaranakatta watashira no, ichiban no shigoto wa "shibai" da Well, since the rest of us didn't get captured, we had to act. [lit. the main task of the rest of us, who were not arrested, was "acting".]

Do you see the confusion? The localisation has Futaba say, "we had to act"—that is, in English, "we had to do something". But the intention of the line is "we had to act our parts"—that is, they had to put on a play or a drama! They had to engage in the craft of acting!

This exact error crops up in at least one other place, with Akechi in Shido's Palace:

Akechi 学業に励み、優等生を演じ、正義の名探偵として、名を上げた。 gakugyou ni hagemi, yuutousei o enji, seigi no meitantei toshite, na o ageta I devoted myself to my studies, acted as an honor student, and made my name as an ace detective. [lit. I devoted myself to my studies, played the part of an honor student, and made my name as an ace detective of justice.]

See the error? The Japanese words are different, but the translator, again, didn't know how the verb "to act" works in speech. So Akechi just sounds like he's saying "I acted like an honor student"—his emphasis that this was a performance is lost.

Lastly, there's no doubt the other PTs were in genuine danger. Witness Shido's order to take the rest of them out next, earlier on 11/21—which Akechi evades:

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/11/03)—first posted.

[gothamite-rambler]

Batfamily Mitzvah (I learned about Bruce is canon Jewish because his mother was and this is if Kate dragged Bruce to a family bar mitzvah) (Batfamily Chronicles Microfiction Series)

Kate is reading a People magazine.

Kate: Bruce, do you know Linda?

Bruce (sorting through paperwork): The crazy family member? That doesn’t narrow it down, does it?

Kate: Not really. She’s our third cousin, but she goes by Aunt Linda. She’s the one who hit her husband with her car, and when he survived, they stayed together.

Bruce: That Linda... I’ve always hated her.

Kate: We all do. But her son's son—

Bruce: Her grandson?

Kate: Yes, smartass. They’re throwing him a bat mitzvah in a few weeks, and they invited me. You’re coming.

Bruce: I’m busy that day.

Kate: I haven’t told you when it is.

Bruce: My schedule is full when it comes to visiting 'Aunt' Linda and her insane family.

Kate: My bad, cuzzo. You misunderstood. That wasn’t an invitation; it was a command. I’m not going alone.

Bruce: Why not?

Kate (looking up from her magazine): I’m a lesbian, and they’re very religious. Linda will be there and has made it very clear that “Oh, it’s just a phase, darling. You’ll find the right man!”

Bruce: Why am I coming, though? I don’t like her, and I don’t want to hear her voice.

Kate: I’m bringing you so she can ask why you’ve adopted those kids and aren’t married yet, how one of them died and then came back to life, why you’re dating a former bank robber, and why you only have one biological son. Tsk, tsk, naughty, naughty, naughty. I told her some things about you in the group chat, and she’s already asked a lot of evasive questions... about you. Make sure you have a good suit; that’s basically all you wear.

Bruce: Oh, okay... I have no say in the matter. Got it. Fine.

Kate (dryly): There’s the master detective you pride yourself on being.

Bruce (already regretting this): What time are we supposed to be there?

Kate: We have to be at the synagogue early in the morning because it’s on a Sunday—you are going into the synagogue; I don’t want to hear it.

Bruce groans, rubbing his head. He and churches don't get along.

Kate: After that, the party is at three. I hate talking to so many of them; we can sneak off, have a drink, whatever you want to do, and show back up at four. Are you bringing the kids?

Bruce (sarcastically): Was that a question I'm allowed to answer? Thank you so much for allowing me to respond.

Kate: I can be nice like that.

Bruce (aggravated): No, they’re not going. I don’t even want to bring Damian. They wouldn’t like that side of the family.

Kate: Hmm, I never asked—are you practicing Judaism?

Bruce: Nope.

Kate: Why? Aunt Martha was Jewish; by extension, you’re Jewish.

Bruce: That’s not true.

Kate: You’ve studied numerous forms of fighting, weapons, and even opera, but you don’t know that if your mother is Jewish, you’re Jewish, too? Damian, however, is ethnically Jewish. Your dad doesn’t factor in... were you unaware?

Bruce glares at Kate, refusing to answer.

Kate: Oh my goodness! Yes, I knew something you didn’t know!

Bruce (rubbing his forehead): Yup, I’ll give you that. But for your information, I was never raised with a Jewish upbringing.

Kate: Seriously, I thought they’d do something—

Bruce: They died when I was eight in an alley. You lose the spirit of anything when that happens!

Kate (sighing): You use that excuse too much.

Bruce: My parents died!

Kate (silent for a second): My sister is clinically insane, and one of your sons shook hands with God. It’s not a competition.

Bruce: The way Jason tells it, he met Satan for some time.

Kate: He’s joking; were you unaware of that as well?

Bruce refuses to respond, pretending to read a document on his desk.

Kate (laughing): Are they aware you’re Jewish?

Bruce: Yes, but again, I’m not practicing. So it’s like... yes, but no.

Kate: Oh, so me. Cool.

Kate returns to reading, while Bruce looks over a case about Scarecrow.

Bruce: Can I pay you—

Kate: You’re going to this party; money won’t change that.

Bruce (semi-sarcastically): I enjoy when we spend time together.

Kate: Aww, same, cuzzo.

(Batfam mitzvah part 1 of 7)