#y'all truly support the right driver

[scuderia-hamilton]

just found out that some people (we all know who) have a problem with Charles taking his puppy to the opening of his own ice cream shop??

[blerb-f1]

"Lost" - Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Charles celebrates too hard and gets lost. More news at 6

Find more on my masterlist!

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“Sir?”

“Sir!”

“Wah?”

Charles awoke as he felt his shoulder getting ruffled, eyes dry and hurting. His throat was dry.

“Sir, please get up. This train is finished cleaning, you have to leave”

‘Train?’, he wondered in confusion. Hadn't he just been celebrating his win in Monaco? He took a look at the person shaking him. She was a train attendant, pretty looking he might add. Her uniform was not flattering the least. A light blue t-shirt with a dark blue vest thrown over it. Her accent was german. He attempted to get out of his seat but stumbled, bad leg control.

She supported his shoulder. 

“Where am I?”

“Far off from any kind of civilisation you'd normally travel to, based on that watch on your arm” the attended reported. “The middle of nowhere, in Germany.”

Charles held his head. “I don't remember getting on this train at all.”

She looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, you had all the necessary tickets for your journey. Must have gotten them from somewhere.”

Together they walked outside of the train. The train station was small, one white painted building. Only two tracks, lot's off trees.

“Have you got anywhere to go to?”

Charles looked at her, thinking. Fumbling around his pocket resulted in nothing, his phone and wallet were gone. Shit.

“Apparently not. Let's just get going. You can stay the night with me, I've got space.”

“Can't I just take this train back to where I'm from?” Charles asked her in desperation.

“Good Joke, truly. This train runs every two hours during the day. And then you'd have to take more trains, none of which usually run in the night as well. Also, I've had a long day of work. I'm really, really beat up.”

Charles sighed. ‘What did I just get myself into? The people saying to not mix uppers and downers were right…’

She led him to her Car, a little silver Hyundai. Throwing her backpack in and settling into the driver's seat, she sighed in relief. “Finally done.”

“Done?”

“I've got the weekend off. Your arrival kinda ruined it but we gotta take the things as they come. I'm Y/N L/N. You?”

“Charles Leclerc”

“That sounds French”

“Monegasque”

“What? I don't know that word”

“I'm from Monaco!”

She looked at him in surprise.  “Now you're pulling my leg. You got here from MONACO? You must have taken like 10+ trains!”

“Urgs, not so loud. My head hurts”

“God.” She groaned as she inserted the car key, starting the little engine. “Move your hand”

“Huh?”

“Either you move your hand or you loosen the handbrake. I can't get it with you spreading over there”

Charles quickly lifted his arms in the air. “Isn't it Electric?”

She just looked at him exasperated. “Do I look like I'm shitting money? I can't afford a car that new. Unless you'd wanna pay one Mr. Money Bag over there.”

“Oi, that's rude”

“You're from Monaco, don't y'all bath in money and champagne? Now, let's just get going.”

The car ride was silent with Charles looking out of the windows. This really was the countryside. Trees, fields, cows and horses. Lots of half-timbered houses.

After half an hour of journey, with them passing over roads he'd never even classify as those, considering the many holes and breaks they finally reached a large property. A large half timbered house with a similar looking barn and a long building houses garages presented itself to him. She parked the Hyundai in one of the Garages, the smaller one to be exact, and stepped outside.

Charles followed her as she unlocked the front door, revealing a house with small-ish rooms with low height walls painted weight. The most color each room spotted was oak- all the furniture and floor were oak. He had never been in a house like this before.

“Stair up, the left room is the bathroom. Soap's there, go shower. I'll put clean clothes and towels in front of the door for you.”

“Shower?” 

“Sorry …Charlie. You stink. Long journey and all”

“Ah, I'm so sorry! I'll go shower immediately!”

Charles stepped into the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the ground. The second they left his body he noticed the less than stellar stench of sweat, alcohol and weed stuck on them. The water hitting his skin felt heavenly, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt he never thought could amass so quickly. The water was different, as well. It didn't smell of chlorine as much, more like iron instead. Nonetheless, only after the shower did he realize what a stinky guy he had become. The clothes laid in front of the door were oversized on him. Some red, used polo shirt and cargo pants with frayed edges awaited him. Downstairs in the Kitchen, Y/N had changed into casual wear, foot already served on the table. Charles settled into the chair, staring at the provided meal. “What, you’re not hungry?” she asked him, tauntingly. “I don’t know how to eat this” he had to state.

“Look”, she said. The table was covered in two plates, each having a solid kind of bun laid on it and a pot with sausages swimming around. She took her knife, cutting a slit into the Bun. “Take the Brötchen-”, she then grabbed a fork and fished out a sausage, putting it into the ‘Brötchen’, “then put the sausage in there. "That's it.”

“Nothing else?” Charles asked, pretty confused.

“Yeah, simple meal you know. "Nothing fancy.”

“Hm.”

They ate silently, with Charles being confused at how hard that Brötchen was. He slept in the living room that night. The house didn’t have blinds but there were no street lights to keep him awake. Instead pure silence, something he never encountered anywhere. It was almost blissful - until the sun woke him up at 6AM and the birds were singing really loudly. He heard a loud mechanical noise and a cupboard clinking, then Y/N appeared in the doorway, offering a mug. “Coffee.”

The cup of coffee was hot, very nice.

“We’ll go to the electronics store to get you a phone, so that you can get your stuff in order. I can’t get you onto a plane without documents.”

“Aight.”

“Are we there soon?”

“Sorry mate, nothing’s close by.”

Driving to the electronic store took over half an hour and as they finally arrived, no grand palace was awaiting him. It was a dinky old little store, the bottom floor housing washing machines, fridges and vacuums. The upstairs was mostly TVs and DVDs, the phones tucked into the corner. Charles approached the few iPhones they had there, playing around with them.

“Dude, pick something cheaper”

"Why?" I’d just buy something that lasts.”

Y/N looked at him in annoyance. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to pay me back. That stupid phone is like a third of my monthly income. I can’t afford that.”

“A third?”, he asked in shock.

“Yeah, train attendants don’t earn much. Tickets want to be cheap right? Also…” she added. “We gotta get you a limited plan. Since you don’t have an ID, I have to be the owner. We should get a monthly one so that i can cancel it later.”

He simply agreed, settling on one heck of a cheap phone.

“Finally.” he sighed, installing his social media apps and creating a new WhatsApp profile. Contact to the outside world could be established.

“I need to call my team.”

“Please do, i bet they’re worried sick”

Charles leaned against the door as Y/N settled inside, as he heard the familiar call beep. Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in a while returned from the speaker.

“Who’s there?”, asked his friend, Andrea Ferrari.

“It’s me, Charles!”

"Charles?!" Where the fuck have you been ? We were so worried about you!”

“So fun story, i apparently took multiple trains and am now somewhere randomly in Germany. And I lost my wallet along with my phone.”

“Somewhere in Germany and no identification… Can you rent a car?”

“No, since I obviously have no ID, right?”

"Ah, shit. How’d you get a phone?”

“A train attendant took me in and bought it, but she can’t really afford more than that.”

Andrea seemed to think for a moment. “What if we send her money and she drives you back?”

“That sounds like a moronic, stupid journey…”

Shortly afterwards, Y/N made large eyes as insane amounts of cash appeared on her bank account. She didn’t believe that Charles actually was rich, especially not that he was an F1 Driver. For Ferrari as well! The Michael Schumacher Ferrari! She was quick to convince however, as a paid vacation like that sounded like a nice idea. They headed to the car dealership which also rented cars.

“Hyundai, again?” Charles complained.

Y/N just stared at him. “I know a guy there, the only spot where they won’t scam you.”

She had picked a car that looked quite similar to hers, just a bit longer with more horsepower. “I don’t like driving big cars. Want some power for the Autobahn though.” Charles whined in Response:” Can’t I drive? Pretty please? I haven't driven a car in a while~”

“Do you currently have a physical license?”

“No”

“Then shut up. I'd lose my license if we were to get caught. My car takes me to work, no options without”

He wanted to pout in response but that had quickly become not an option. The drive was sheer madness. Y/N was running on hopes and energy drinks, pushing the little car to its limit. Charles was gripping every piece of interieur he physically could as she drove at max speed for every stretch she could. Google had estimated the journey to take 13 hours, she shaved off 2 of them. He made a note of never saying that women were the calmer drivers. Blasting loud techno music that turned into a monotonous drone combined with the engine screaming as German countryside flew past him, only interrupted by gas station breaks.

Sweet, sweet silence they proved to be. A heaven of calm, shoved tightly between what most likely was an out-of-body experience.

Then, silence, white doves and heavenly goodness stopped: the return of techno. Y/N throwing the Car around Italy’s shit roads, ignoring all laws of traffic ever created. One goal in Mind: Maranello.

With the crack of dawn and the first worker’s arriving to open the doors, they saw something they had never seen in their long career. A crazed car coming to a full stop, brakes glowing hot directly in front of them. Passenger side flung open and their golden treasure stepping out. Il Predestino had returned, he had risen from the dead. 

And was vomiting against a tree.

“Aren’t you F1 Drivers supposed to be tough or something?”

Charles tiredly leaned against said tree, face free of blood. “We’re tough but not tough like that. I can survive a long ass GP but not 11 hours of insanity”

The crazed driver laughed, her whole body shaking. She approached him, forcefully shaking his hand. “It was nice to get to know you, big boy. I want to go to sleep now, hit me up if you want to visit Germany again.” Y/N shoved a slip of paper between his tightly pressed fingers and walked off as an employee showed her the way. She was to stay somewhere close by as some NDAstuff needed to be handled now.

On the other side, more people were approaching. Charles' friends, the team and the media. Maybe Germany was actually a nice spot to vacation in. Without all the circus going on here. When was the winter break again?

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I pinky promise that i WILL continue this since i wrote it for my friend acexf1 over on YouTube. It's more set-up than anything rn. My other stuff is also getting continuations now!

[lunarriviera]

What are your thoughts on the last ep of under the skin...that cant be shen yi right...im seeing a lot of twin theories but thats a weird plot twist honestly 😅

to answer this question i guess i have to get up off the floor first, where i have been lying facedown and motionless since uts2 ended over a week ago. two weeks ago? yesterday? today? i don't know anymore i've lost all track of time, who are you? where are we?

oh right—the s2 ending. you must mean this scene, right? what a great way to end things! du cheng, happy, walking to meet a group of friends at his birthday party! truly wrapped up the whole drama, and left us in such a heartwarming place with our favorite characters!

...oh you didn't mean that ending? you mean there's another one?

[mindless screaming behind the cut AS WELL AS SPOILERS]

[and this winds up being about all of s2 as well as the final tag, OOPS]

so okay listen before i can even address this without the mindless screaming, i have to level with y'all here: s2 was rough on me. there are only like three du cheng stans in all of anglophone cdrama fandom and i'm probably two of them ( @wannings-wontons is the other one, thank god for her). i've written eleventyleven fics from his pov so i am ferally protective of my big stupid hot cop son. this season put him through the goddamn wringer and for my taste there were just a few too many scenes of du cheng looking like he was about to burst into tears while shen yi was smiling winsomely, for all the world as if he were not the one personally causing his captain to experience devastating mortal agony. allow me to demonstrate.

in the driver's seat: unspeakable anguish. literally can't talk.

in the passenger seat: hey nice air conditioner! guess what i have a new friend! i spent the night at his place, talking about infinity and human potential! in a few more episodes he'll be a murder suspect!

(i'm getting to the cliffhanger, believe me i'm getting there, no really i am, we just have to spend a minute dealing with the divorce arc first)

because, while i absolutely adore angst bambi (as @whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst has immortalized him), and thanks to @elenothar have firmly adopted him as a most beloved emotional support twink (not least because i suspect tan jianci is himself kind of a genius; no triple threat should be this good of an actor), i also honestly not infrequently this season wanted to drag shen yi into the men's room by his pretty hair and flush his pretty little head down the [redacted] until he came to his pretty little senses. because while later in the arc he clearly is, you know, attempting that deep-cover thing, and has to reject du cheng to his face, right in front of Evil Eugenicist Art Critic Weasel Man, in order to gain Weasel Moriarty's trust, etc.—

there are also a bunch of times when du cheng is visibly upset and miserable and in genuine pain, and shen yi just laughs. literally laughs at him. like tan jianci what are you doing, do you want the audience to dislike you? how are you trying to play this?? are we supposed to think, wow shen yi sure knows what he's doing? are we supposed to think he suddenly has the world's worst taste in men? because long before Weasel Man smashes a vase and snaps at his lab assistant and possibly kills someone and has assorted tantrums which start to tip off shen yi that maybe his new bestie is kind of a bag of dicks—long before that starts happening? shen yi just likes that guy. he LIKES him. enough to quote whitman to him (fang kaiyi you take his queer name out your mouth); enough to stay up all night painting the stars with him and we don't know what all else. enough to hang out in his lab for days on end, listening to junk science and pretending to understand the human genome and just what. shen yi. WHAT. he's literally a Bond villain styled like an asymmetric reptile—all this, just because he's tall? and he's gone to the symphony a few times? what, because he negged your painting, and that turned you on? i shouldn't have said any of that, but i did; and now i refuse to take it back. because inside me are two wolves, and they sound like this:

one wolf has been extremely online for many years, and thinks she's very hip and chill and jaded. this wolf talks in memes and laughs at herself, and she's like: “haha fun drama! Solving Crimes Through Art! lol i can't believe this turgid love song playing over a romantic montage, wow it's so stupid.” and also: “lmao divorce arc so hilarious, WELCOME HOME CHEATER lol get it, good joke right?” and: “oh my god why is there another pointless cliffhanger, they will NEVER GET a s3 what are they thinking. this scene is therefore not canon and can be safely ignored, just like the s1 tag turned out to be a ~~~dream."

but the other wolf is lying motionless in her barrow in the darkness flat on her stomach in mouldering leaves and mud head resting on crossed paws staring into the night with her old yellow eyes and she says they stabbed my son and left him alone in his blood and the last thing he saw was a cruel face worn by the boy he has come to love a boy standing at the end of the alley looking down at his phone who then moves past him and keeps on walking

and then, you know. then i lie on the floor for a week! which is fine, i'm an extremely psychologically healthy person who has certainly not at all outsourced her entire emotional well-being to an imaginary public safety bureau criminal investigator on the coast of southeast china.

so what do i think about the cliffhanger? here is what i think about it; and again, sorry for the hatchet job on shen yi but it was relevant:

1. i do think it's a dream, yes. they've already played that game with us—we waited two years to find out who was carving up shen yi's creepy murder-red self-portrait and whomst should it be but…nobody! just shen yi having nightmares about his future fling, apparently. (notice, too, how fang kaiyi GRABBED that craft knife, which shen yi had deliberately left on the easel, and didn't even ask why it was there. he might be tall and elegant and have good taste but he's nowhere near as smart as you are, shen yi. do better.)

2. whose nightmare is it, though: shen yi's, or du cheng's? remember that the first time du cheng meets fang kaiyi, he tells shen yi, "he reminds me of someone: the old you." (and shen yi laughs merrily, even though nothing about that is funny, either the observation or du cheng's immediate mistrust and jealousy. TAN JIANCI WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING). then, later, on the precinct rooftop, after the case is all over, shen yi confesses yet again that there's something in him that's not altogether good, that he has quote "demons," and that if he hadn't met du cheng, he might have gone down some vague unspecified dark path. not quite sure how a portrait artist was gonna become a mass murderer or whatever, but okay i guess. there was something off about shen yi 1.0, and du cheng could see it even a decade ago and he didn't like it then any more than he does now.

given all that, then, the nightmare is probably shen yi's. he's prone to them anyway, and he knows now how badly he's hurt du cheng, and that he came dangerously close to, well, getting into bed with the enemy. i don't think it's even until fang kaiyi is so limpidly nonchalant about zhou shanshan's death that shen yi's inner moral compass comes shrieking back into play (and then it really does; shen yi who never raises his voice out there just shouting that man down).

there's one argument to be made for the case that it's du cheng's nightmare, though, which is the way that he looks up at the camera at the very end of the shot, and laughs. shen yi 1.0 is standing too far away for that to be his point-of-view. so who's standing over du cheng? and who would he laugh at, in recognition, like that? shen yi 2.0, presumably (or 3.5? not sure what version we're on anymore).

either way here's my final observation, and then i swear to god i'll shut up, before the shen yi stans come for me like maenads. i was chatting with @wannings-wontons and she said something that absolutely blindsided me, which is that the cliffhanger literalizes the arc of the series: shen yi did, in fact, metaphorically stab du cheng in s2. why else would either of them dream that? du cheng being badly, even fatally wounded by arrogant young artist shen yi is precisely what happened during the divorce arc. and their reconciliation was so heavily censored as to be, to some of us anyway, unpersuasive. (two cops, talking on a rooftop all night! five feet apart cause they're not gay!) as @wannings-wontons said: "the last scene just reflects how badly hurt he was. and we're left to decide whether he'll recover."

so which is worse, dreaming that your lover stabs you? or dreaming that something twisted inside you stabs the man you love?

tldr, shen yi doesn't need a soap opera evil twin: he's his own evil twin, and he knows this. and what is more, du cheng knows it now too. if there's ever a third season, which seems completely impossible to me, the writers have to know that they have NOT fixed this.

fortunately, we have something censored production companies don't have, and it's called fanfiction. so bring on the episode codas, my friends. bring on the long painful conversations and the shouted arguments (du cheng never even got to yell, except once in a parking lot because he was frantic). bring on the tender reconciliations that can only come after those blowout knock-down-drag-out fights, and are therefore real and grounded, not stilted, wooden, woefully inadequate mockeries of reunion. let people throw furniture and cry and try to explain and plead and confess and even, sure, why not, grab the other person and kiss him breathless, and say I don't want to do this without you, say don't put me through that ever again, say but this isn't enough and I need something different, say okay then let's figure that out together, say i'm sorry i hurt you, you're the most important person to me and that's the last thing i ever want to do.

it's up to us, not to leave them there in the alley like that. but the good news is if it's work, it's only work. and it's our work to do.

[notheroicnotromantic]

WIP Wednesday - Landoscar Ageswap!AU edition.

Some of y'all might remember this idea I rambled about a couple of weeks ago and ever since then, I've been working on it! It's at around 15k words rn and I've only written out 1/4 of my draft so you better PRAY for me.

ANYWAYS there's a sneak peak under the cut. 🫶

some context might be needed, so:

it's set in an imaginary 2025 season with a made up calendar, grid + wdc fight. (obviously LOL)

oscar's 24 going on 25 and has been at mcl since 2020, lando's 20 going on 21 and in his rookie year.

nico rosberg is lando's manager. (listen, I had to.)

osc friend group = 2019 rookies (minus lando ofc) + logan

lands friend group = ollie + kimi (2025 rookies)

basically the thing that intrigued me so MUCH is the thought of having a rookie lando that's so enamored and obsessed with his cool older teammate BEGGING for some attention and awkward oscar who's used to playing second fiddle to daniel absolutely in TATTERS because why is his new cutie of a teammate trying to be besties?? aren't they here to race?? why is this puppy with the big eyes following him around PLEASE leave him alone.

and then they have like dramatic back-and-fourths for the majority of the season.

also I kind of ripped of the Alpine storyline for Lando but changed it to him being a former RB driver for the sake of drama.

It takes another fifteen minutes, but eventually Oscar emerges from his room, in a wine-red t-shirt and some dark shorts. That shouldn’t be considered a look in any shape or form, but Lando can appreciate the foundation the outfit is built upon. If you catch his drift. (It’s because he’s a racing driver, get it?) 

They head out together then, and Lando follows Oscar to the parking lot, where a chic and minimalistic black 720 S Spider is waiting for them, Lando’s salvia collecting in his mouth simply by looking at it. Yeah, maybe he’s a car guy, it’s literally his job. 

“What a beauty,” Lando marvels at the car, taking it in from all sides before getting ready to jump in. Oscar has stopped in front of the driver side door, holding out the ignition key. “You want to take the wheel?”

“Osc, I could never,” the younger chokes out, but the Australian simply tilts his head. “I’m not going to offer again, mate.” Fuck it, I’d be stupid not take the opportunity. Before the Oscar can regret his decision, Lando’s snatched up the key and is sliding into the driver’s seat.

Maybe it takes them another five minutes to start driving, Lando letting his hands run over the interior of the car, but Oscar keeps watching him with a neutral look, that makes Lando’s inside’s feel like he’s on fire, so he hopes he doesn’t hate him for it.

Another thirty minutes later and they reach the Piastri home, which should be called the Piastri Mansion, really. It’s almost as big as Lando’s own family home back in the UK and that’s been in his family’s possession for years, but this house is too modern for it to be some sort of family heirloom. Obviously, Lando knew that Oscar’s grown-up wealthy if his parents were able to send him across the world and support his racing career in Europe, but knowing and seeing are still two very different things, at the end of the day.

Nicole Piastri welcomes them at the door and the truly delusional part of Lando’s brain feels like he’s being brought home to his boyfriend’s family for the first time. Well, teammates aren’t that far removed from work-spouses, right? 

The older woman greets him with another tight hug, and Lando buries his head in her neck, clinging onto her tightly. In the next moment, there’s something trying to jump up his legs, a pair of fluffy middle-sized dogs trying to reach him, tongues out and tails waging. 

Oscars beside him immediately, “No, Rosie, Baz, back off!” He commands the dogs, which shouldn’t be this hot frankly, and the two stop, but continue to stand in front of Lando, big, dark eyes looking up at him. It’s too cute, really. So, he can’t do anything but sit down on his knees and open his arms wide for the dogs to jump into them, licking up on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take so well to a stranger,” Nicole gasps, cheering a little for their interaction. Lando loses his balance and falls onto his back, Basil and Rosie following him and continuing to cuddle up to him. Yeah, he knows the government names of Oscar’s pets. He run an Oscar Fan account for two years, it’d be a bad look if he didn’t. 

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to save you,” Oscar sighs, a little disappointed maybe before continuing his walk into the house and into what Lando assumes the direction of the back porch. It sems like the two furballs are finally excited by the presence of one more of their owners, because they’re gone in a flash and following his teammate outside. Maybe they’re hoping for a round of fetch. 

Lando would play with them all day.

Oscar’s mum helps him up, still left lying on the hardwood floor beneath him. “You know you’re first teammate he’s agreed to bring around?” Lando’s sure his face resembles one of the fish he loathes so much. It’s not like he assumed that Daniel and Oscar used to be best friends, but now he feels weirdly honoured. But he’s also like fairly sure Oscar only did so because of his mother in the first place. 

The rest of the Piastri family is in the backyard, Oscar’s in a conversation with one of his younger sisters, Hattie, and there’s Nicole’s boyfriend on the barbecue. The dogs are chasing each other around the grass and the large swimming pool at the right side of the garden.

It’s only now that Lando notices how much he’s out of depth here, because it’s literally just Oscar’s family, including Mark Webber, here for the celebrations. Lando figured he’d be able to blend in with some of the friends or acquaintances of the family during the party, but now he’s realizing he’s part of an actual family barbecue. He feels honoured, but the anxiety’s also back.  

Nicole takes him by the shoulder, dragging him to the table and chairs where the Piastri children have settled down. “Come on, Lando, I’m sure you’re hungry and exhausted after that race,” which is of course the moment his stomach decides to make itself known, grumbling. Lando feel his cheeks heat up, which might become a permanent state at this point, “Yeah, I couldn’t keep anything down before the race, so I guess I need to make up for some lost calories,” he tries to go for a light-hearted joke.

Judging from the woman’s facial expression, he didn’t quite hit the mark with that one. “What?” Nicole looks at him horrified, “Don’t worry! This has been happening to me since I started in like the British F3, so I’m totally used to it by now,” he explains - which doesn’t help his case at all, sadly.

“You’ve just awoken the demon,” Mae tells him as he sits down across from her. 

Unfortunately for Lando the next person to join them at the table is Webber, who chooses the chair next to him. Maybe he should have declined the invitation after all.

Most of the dinner is more than an awkward affair to Lando, who can’t shake this stiffness from his limbs. He tries to his best to the enthusiastic about the food, and it’s great. He’s starved too, which should be the perfect combination but every time his gaze shifts to the left his heart starts to beat a little quicker.

When the sun starts to set Lando feels like the celebrations have reached a point for him to make a polite exit without offending anyone. Nicole is quick to offer their guest room to Lando, but he doesn’t think he could stand being around Oscar for any longer. Even if his heart breaks as he bids his goodbye to Baz and Rosie, who’d been his rock during dinner, brushing up against his legs and resting on his lap. 

Instead, Lando orders himself an Uber for the way back to the hotel and Oscar offers to wait with him in the front of the property. “Thanks again for the invite,” Lando breaks the awkward silence between them, when he can’t stand it any longer.

“No need to thank me, mate. I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time with you, I can’t imagine Mark to be an enthusiastic conversation partner, but I get so little time with my siblings, I’m sure you understand,” Oscar explains as he wraps his hand around Lando’s wrist. Besides, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, I’m not your biggest fan, the sentence continues in Lando’s head.

“No, I think I do need to thank you. Could you give me your mum’s number? I want to properly thank her once more, I feel like if I hadn’t been around your family, it’d been a pretty sad ending to my first race. I’ve been missing my own like a limb today, honestly.” 

Oscar squeezes his wrist once more at the confession and promises to send Lando Nicole’s contact as soon as he’s back in the yard with his mobile. Then, Lando’s Uber drives around the corner. They bid each other goodbye, and then the Brit gets into the car. 

Making his way back to the Hilton, Lando’s still unsure how Oscar’s feeling about him.

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[AUDIO DESCRIPTION OF THE NEWLY-WEDS CHALLENGE WITH OSCAR PIASTRI AND LANDO NORRIS]

Oscar Piastri: Lando, what is Oscar’s favourite pizza topping?  Lando Norris: Mate, you probably enjoy something disgusting like Tuna. Or no, Hawaii? Oscar Piastri: Actually, it’s pretty simple, I just like pepperoni. Lando Norris: I think we just found a food opinion we can agree on, Osc. Okay, uh, Oscuh, what Disney character is Lando most like? Oscar Piastri: Hm. That’s a tough one, you kind of remind me of Timon, from Lion King. Or I guess Lighting McQueen from CARS would be fitting, too. Lando Norris: Don’t tell Liam about that second one. If I’m Timon, does that mean you’re Pumba? Oscar Piastri: Sure, Lando. If you want to me to be. Okay, next one question, who is most likely to deal with a spider? Lando Norris: Oscuh, obviously.  Oscar Piastri: Obviously!? Lando Norris: Those Australian genes need to be good for something, mate! Reckon you’d protect me from the big, bad spiders.  Oscar Piastri: I think your screeching will be enough to hold them off, honestly.  Lando Norris: Oh, wow. Well, moving on, Oscuh, what would be Lando’s dream job, except for his current profession?  Oscar Piastri: Something that’s not even a job, probably. Like streamer, or maybe Instagram model.  Lando Norris: Oh, the influencers are going to come for you, mate. Besides, I already stream. Wait, did you know that? Oscar Piastri: [just smiles in reply.] 

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[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 2: The Hospital

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company has to navigate the emergency room to help Malarkey?

Words: 3,732

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's Note: Hi y'all! Thank you all so much for reading Chap 1, I truly did not expect the fic to get the reception that it did 🥺💕 y'all are absolutely amazing and I can't wait to share more of the story with you!! (Link to picrew in collage)

The walk to the hospital was uneventful, unless you count the stares of passersby and Nixon struggling to understand how to cross the street. When it came time to cross the busy street to arrive at the hospital, the men were halted by a red hand shining across from them on a small, strange screen. When Nixon looked at the pole to his right, he noticed a button with the words "push to cross" written above it. Naturally, the man pressed the button. A deep, assertive voice sounded from the button, instructing the men to "WAIT." "Why is it telling us to wait?" Luz questioned indignantly, still rubbing the spot where Malarkey kicked him.

"So we don't get run over?" Guarnere posed to the group in his South Philly accent. Before anyone could affirm this, the red hand disappeared from the screen and was replaced by what appeared to be a person walking. Traffic was stopped, and the men were free to cross. As quickly as they could, the men made their journey across the street. Toye was the last one to complete the crossing, still being on the asphalt when the intimidating red hand reappeared. This earned the man a jarring "honk" from the driver closest to them. Toye whipped around in shock, instinctively reaching for his weapon before remembering where they were - or rather, where they were not.

Finally, the men made it to the entrance of the hospital. While Winters and Nixon tried to look for a handle to open the glass doors in front of them, they were astonished to see the doors slide open on their own as someone was walking past them, out of the hospital. Nixon shot Winters a look - one of bewilderment, wonder, and most visibly, exasperation. Winters simply replied with an amused smile before leading his men into the hospital lobby.

Dick and Easy Company didn't get far before a stocky man wearing a polo saying "Hospital Security" put his hand on Winters' chest, stopping the men from going further and making Dick rather uncomfortable. "Woah there buddy, you can't bring those in here, sick world war 2 replicas though," the man stated, more at Dick rather than to him. The man punctuated his sentence with a gesture towards the rifles carried by Toye, Guarnere, and Speirs. Each word the man said was more confusing than the last - you can't bring your weapons in? What is World War 2? And why was it "sick?"

"Um…what do we do with them?" Dick replied. It was not the best thing he could have said, but he was still trying to wrap his head around how a gun can have an illness.

"I don't care what you do with them, they just can't come in here," the man replied bluntly. Winters nodded and led his men back outside. They were alone again. 

"Sir, can we hide them behind these bushes?" Malarkey asked, pointing over Roe's shoulder to a line of thick, opaque bushes next to the hospital entrance. Checking to make sure no one was around, Winters nodded his head and started putting all his gear behind the bush.

"Nix, help me take their gear. Helmets and all weapons come off, men," Dick instructed the soldiers, Nixon assisting Malarkey and his supporters before getting rid of his own gear. The men felt naked without their supplies, but they needed to help Malarkey.

The men returned to the hospital lobby, the security guard from earlier giving them an approving nod before stepping aside. He outstretched his hand in the direction of the hospital front desk, quickly receiving a nod of thanks from each of the men as they walked past him.

"How can I help you?" The lady sitting behind the desk asked, continuing to stare at the papers littering her desk.

"My friend has a broken rib that needs to be tended to," Winters explained hesitantly, gesturing for Roe and Speirs to bring Malarkey up to the front.

"Name?" The receptionist asked, turning to a set of buttons that seemed to resemble a typewriter - next to the buttons seemed to be some kind of television, the boys deduced, even though the screen seemed extraordinarily flat.

"Donald Malarkey, ma'am," the redhead replied, wincing as Speirs adjusted his shoulder.

"Date of birth?"

"7/21/1921."

The receptionist gave him a look that could only convey the most intense form of irritation known to man. "Very funny, how old are you?" She continued, her tone indicating she was not the least bit amused.

Poor Malarkey, unsure of how he had said something wrong, simply winced in pain and replied, "I'm 23 ma'am." Making no indication that she heard Don answer her question, the receptionist clicked away on her buttons before a strand of glossy paper printed from a device connected to her television.

"Your wrist please," she instructed, holding out the paper like a bracelet. Looking at Winters for approval, Malarkey hesitantly unwrapped his arm from Speirs' shoulder and held out his wrist - the receptionist promptly wrapped the paper around him, sealing it with what seemed to be a sticky piece at the end. "Have a seat, they'll call you when they're ready," she told none of the men in particular as she went back to staring at the papers on her desk. Looking down at the paper band, Malarkey saw that it had his name and birthday beside a barcode. However, Don noticed a mistake - his birthday. Instead of 1921, the year read 2000. This just confirmed the thought all of the men were praying not to be true.

The injured redhead whispered a quiet "fuck" under his breath before being led to the waiting area by Roe and Speirs. With several seats around the large waiting room already occupied, the men agreed to have Roe and Malarkey take a seat while the rest stood next to them. Taking in his surroundings, Winters' eyes landed on a lady talking to the woman behind the desk. Her hair seemed to be…blue? As Dick unintentionally stared at the girl, trying to understand why she would have blue hair, the lady looked up, and their eyes met. The color of her eyes matched that of her hair - a deep, ultramarine blue. Dick only realized he was staring when he saw the shock and bewilderment in the girl's eyes - she quickly returned the way she came as Winters pondered how eyes could be so blue.

"Smooth," Nixon commented, leaning against the wall next to Winters. A choked chuckle came from the floor next to Eugene's seat, where Liebgott and Luz were trying everything not to laugh at their Captain's comment. Winters simply rolled his eyes at his men, of course they would think he was infatuated with the girl.

"I'm gonna go look around," Speirs said before wandering off on his own, not even giving Winters a second to approve the decision.

"Don't go far!" Nixon called out after the officer, sarcasm subtle but clear in his voice. Ron looked back with a nod of his head before disappearing around a corner. Ron Speirs was always one to do his own thing, and heaven help the person who stood in his way. The nine men tried their best to relax in the crowded waiting room, listening to the television in the far corner spout out words like "Google" and "wifi" before showing an advertisement for gadgets that felt entirely fake. The most impactful item was decidedly something called Bluetooth earbuds.

"I think it's real guys… I think we're really in 2023," Guarnere muttered helplessly - Nothing ever seemed to rattle the Italian American, but for the first time, the soldiers saw Guarnere be just that. Sitting on the floor, Guarnere’s back was back against the wall facing Roe and Malarkey. Luz and Liebgott were sitting next to the medic and redhead on the floor, George resting his head on the side of Roe’s seat. Toye could be found pacing in the corner next to the vending machines, Nixon needing to shift his position in order to avoid being run over. Bull was sitting next to Winters, his mountainous figure somehow becoming comfortable on the narrow window sill framing the glass displaying the vast parking lot.

"How could that have happened though? It doesn't make any fucking sense!" Liebgott spat out in frustration. This earned him several glares from his group, their eyes telling him to keep it down. Liebgott rolled his own eyes before continuing in a quieter tone, "One minute, we were dropping into a foxhole for cover, and the next, were 79 years into the fucking future? Tell me how that fucking works." The rifleman's tone became more irritated the more he realized how unreal this all was.

"Better yet, how the fuck do we get back to the rest of Easy?" Toye's tone matched the rifleman's in irritation, but the spitfire in Toye's tone caused the question to come across as venomous. Bull appeared to be the only enlisted man not about to lose his mind, once again chewing on his Emotional Support Cigar.

"Bull, how the fuck are you so calm?" Luz asked the mountain of a man, his nickname making sense without any verbal explanation.

"Just following orders, I know the captains will take care of us," Bull replied casually, nodding towards Captain Winters and Captain Nixon. The two officers smiled while Winters nodded in gratitude.

"I appreciate the trust, Bull," Dick replied, praying that he could live up to that trust and get his boys home safe.

"Malarkey!" A booming voice called at the front of the room, causing the named man to twirl around in his seat. He and the rest of the soldiers turned to see a man holding a clipboard, signaling for Malarkey to follow him. Eugene helped Don to his feet and all nine of them started walking over. "Woah woah, only one of y'all can go back with him," the man said, holding his hands up in protest. The men all exchanged glances of confusion and worry - their constant state since arriving here - before Winters instructed Roe to accompany his injured soldier. As the captain watched his two men disappear behind a door, a small voice in the back of his head prayed he would see them again.

While the men waited for Malarkey in the waiting room, Speirs had been wandering around the cavernous halls of the hospital. Unfortunately, his solo mission has proven to provide more questions than answers. All around himself, Ron was confronted with inventions, words, and people that seemed to be out of a moving picture. From men and women wearing strange clothes, to machines beeping as if to speak their own language, Speirs felt as if he were on another planet. The officer was snapped from his thoughts when he heard a hushed voice say names that he recognized - Winters, Nixon, Liebgott, Toye.

"I'm telling you Chrys, they look exactly like Easy Company! It has to be them!" The voice spoke emphatically. Speirs cautiously searched around the hallways, coming across a small alcove where a lady with bright blue hair was talking into what appeared to be a small rectangle. She was using it as a phone, Speirs assumed, but it looked nothing like any phone he had ever seen. Speirs ducked behind the wall, not daring to venture too close to the edge, lest he be caught by the woman. "Dude you need to get down here, I promise it's the guys," the lady said a bit louder, assuming she was alone. A brief pause occurred before Speirs heard her say, "Sweet! Text me when you get here! Love you!"

He suddenly heard footsteps coming in his direction, causing the man to glue himself to the wall, praying that she passed his hallway without a glance. His prayers were answered as he saw the mop of blue hair walk past him and turn down one of the labyrinthian hallways, paying the officer no mind. Speirs proceeded to dart back the way he came, bumping into doctors and patients alike before descending a familiar flight of stairs and returning to the waiting room. The officer drew every pair of eyes to him as he ran across to where his men were waiting on Malarkey and Roe.

"I think we have a problem sir," Ron said to Dick, his voice remained monotone, but the captain could see urgency in his eyes. Speirs recounted his experience in a hushed tone to his commanding officer.

"So she knows we're here sir?" Toye interjected after hearing the officer's story. His tone imitated the facial expressions of all the men - they were unsure whether to be relieved or terrified.

“Looks like it, I have no clue how, I highly doubt she’s from … our time,” Speirs replied, hesitant to say something that sounded like it could be from a fantasy story. “What do you want us to do, sir?” Ron asked, looking at the redheaded captain. Dick paused and thought for several moments, his men awaiting his response with bated breath.

“We need to find out what she knows. Best case scenario she can help us… worst case, she’s the reason we’re here,” Winters explained. “Speirs, Liebgott, go find her and figure out what she knows. If you can do it without arousing suspicion, try and bring her back here,” he instructed the two. The men nodded in understanding before the man with the clipboard reappeared.

“Malarkey family? He’s been admitted to a bed, you can come back now,” the man said, gesturing for Easy Company to follow him. Winters quickly leaned in to whisper to Speirs.

“Try and have her lead you to where we are, she probably works here and knows her way around,” the captain explained quickly before following his men back behind a mysterious door, the same one that Malarkey and Roe walked through earlier. As the door slowly swung shut, Speirs led Liebgott to where he overheard the conversation. The walls were decorated with bright colors and strange cartoon characters - maybe undersea animals? Except for one that looked like what the two could only describe as a squirrel in a spacesuit.

“What happened to the good cartoons?” Liebgott mused, processing all of the decorations - it was clear to the two that they were in the children’s wing of the hospital.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Ron replied to Joe, trying his best to be casual as he made his way around the corner. There was a big desk area in the center of the floor, with hallways splaying out like spokes on a wheel. Behind the desk were men and women wearing similar clothes with name badges attached at collars, pockets, and sleeves. On the wall behind the desk was a white message board appearing to have been written on with a marker. The board read:

Welcome to East Raleigh Hospital

Pediatrics Wing!

Date: Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Doctor: Damien Livingston, MD Ped.

Nurses: Dakota Brandt, RN

Reagan Morgan, RN

Azalea “Zay” Bennett, RN

“Zay! Room 303 needs you!” the man sitting behind the desk called behind him, typing away on what Liebgott and Speirs assumed was another weird typewriter.

“Coming!” Joe and Ron’s heads whipped around to see their target speed walking into a patient room with a sign on the wall reading “303.” Her azure hair was tied into a short but bouncy ponytail, black glasses framing her eyes that matched her hair in color. Her clothes were similar to the rest of the employees in the hospital - a shirt with a multitude of pockets and cuffed pants with cargo pockets. The girl’s look was finished with a stethoscope laying around her neck and a pair of scissors hanging off a loop on her pants. The pastel pink of her uniform was a prominent but pleasing contrast to the saturated color of her hair.

“There’s our girl,” Joe Liebgott mused, leaning against the wall, unable to stop a smile from growing on his face. “What do you wanna do, sir?” he asked Captain Speirs, turning his head to look at the superior officer. Speirs continued looking thoughtfully at the room, and Liebgott could see the wheels turning as he figured out what to do.

“Sublest thing to do would be to wait until she takes a break, but I’ve never known Doc, or any medic for that matter, to take a break of his own volition,” Speirs mused. Sure, Zay may not have been a doctor, but Speirs could still not remember a time where he saw anyone at an aid station choose to leave their patients.

“Would there be any other reason she’d leave the floor?” Joe responded, keeping an eye on room 303. Just then, a voice came over the hospital speakers calling “code blue, room 350.” In the blink of an eye, medical staff could be seen speeding down the hall past the boys, Zay along with them.

Speirs gave Liebgott a knowing look before both of them speedily followed the group. The pair passed a door with a small window, showing the room to be empty, save for a table with a couple of chairs. Testing the doorknob as they passed it, the door slowly creaked open. In a flurry of surprisingly silent motion, Speirs grabbed Zay around the waist, using his other hand to cover her mouth before whirling into the room. Liebgott quickly shut the door behind them and kept an eye out the window as Speirs shoved the nurse against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth.

Speirs’ eyes pierced into hers, shock and fright evident on the girl’s face. “No more hiding, blue,” Speirs whispered threateningly to Zay, her fear only intensifying. “I’m going to remove my hand, and when I do, you’re going to tell us what you know about Easy Company and how you know it. And don’t pretend you don’t know anything, we heard you say our names earlier. If you scream, try to fight, or try to run, this is going to end very badly for you, understand?” Zay nodded as best she could, Speirs’ hand limiting her head’s range of motion. Slowly, Ron took his hand off of her mouth, staring expectantly, and scarily, at the nurse.

Speirs and Liebgott were unsure what they expected Zay to say, but her answer to Speirs’ command was definitely not it. “You’re on TV,” she spoke in a low, shaky voice. “T-the show, there’s a show, it features Easy Company,” While the words themselves were difficult to believe, Ron saw honesty in her eyes.

“So you’re telling me that there’s a TV show about us, and it tells everyone everything about us,” he replied, once again hating how fantastical everything happening around him was. The nurse nodded her head, slowly becoming more confident.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked, confusion joining the fright still evident in her expression. Speirs scoffed at the question.

“You telling me us going through the foxhole isn’t on the show?” he challenged the nurse. The muscles in Zay’s face scrunched as she listened to the officer.

“What do you mean going through the foxhole?”

The officer thought for a moment, debating whether or not to share more information with the stranger. Grumbling in frustration, Ron decided it was worth the risk, “In Bastogne, a bunch of us jumped into a foxhole after we saw Doc Roe drop in and not come out.” Zay’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Speirs. After a moment, her expression changed to one of irritation. The adrenaline had subsided, and Zay’s common sense kicked in - there was no way the characters from Band of Brothers were here, holding her hostage in the patient-conference room.

“Look, your costumes are great, but I need to get back to my patients,” she said as she attempted to walk past Speirs. As Zay started to move, the officer forcibly shoved her shoulders back against the wall, effectively pinning her. His tall figure towered over her, and Zay could feel her fear rising once again.

“Why the fuck would we be lying about this?” he asked with agitation.

“Alright, prove to me you’re from the 1940s,” Zay instructed with as much courage as she could muster. Speirs thought for a moment before Liebgott spoke up.

“I think I got something that can prove it,” he explained before patting his pockets, searching for something. Zay and Speirs watched the soldier as he pulled out a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes and a dollar bill. Both, while appearing relatively new, showed the date. On the bottom of the Lucky Strikes, the year next to the copyright symbol read 1944. Likewise, the dollar bill displayed a print date of 1944. Zay gulped as she stared at the evidence - her favorite TV show has come to life right before her.

“Alright, I believe y’all,” she responded with a shaky voice. “H-how many of y’all are here?” Zay asked as Speirs’ grip on her shoulders relaxed.

“There’s ten of us - Winters, Nixon, Guarnere, Toye, Bull, Luz, Roe, Malarkey, Speirs, and me,” Liebgott explained, Zay nodding in understanding. Liebgott continued to explain how they fell into an alley, and how they made the trek to the hospital after Luz landed on Malarkey. Speirs wanted to reprimand Liebgott for giving away so much information, but the air of kindness and honesty around the blue-haired girl put the officer at ease.

“So y’all really have no clue where you are or how you got here…” Zay thought aloud after Joe explained everything to her. Ron and Joe shook their heads, indicating their lack of knowledge. “Would y’all be willing to take me to captain Winters? If it’s okay, I’d be happy to help you guys if I can,” Zay offered shyly, still rather intimidated by Speirs.

Speirs nodded before replying, “We’re not really sure where he is, the guy with the clipboard just said that Malarkey was admitted to a bed and then led the rest of the guys behind a door.” The nurse gave the soldiers a warmhearted smile as she responded.

“I know where he is, just follow me,” the blue-haired girl said, Speirs finally allowing her to slide past him. Liebgott politely opened the door for her as the two soldiers followed the nurse out and down the hall.

~~~~~

Chapter One | Chapter 3

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

Thank you again for reading! Be on the lookout for Chapter 3 coming next week! ✨

[inchidentally]

I've got a few asks that are all actually roughly under the same umbrella in terms of my replies - and be aware I've had to get way more serious then usual so pls skip if you're not here for that <3

mmmmm yea you can feel as you want anon but I personally am not going to want to parallel that relationship with Oscar and Lily's. my main cause when it comes to wives and girlfriends is that they all deserve to be protected against rampant, casual misogyny in fandom spaces. but also to not to project any reflected good will onto her boyfriend or husband simply because he's the boyfriend or husband. and there's so much about the 2000s drivers that makes me hope that at least some of their behavior isn't being carried on with the current younger guys on the grid :///

also just as a reminder: I was raised by intersectional feminists and I've witnessed what even supposedly "loving" het relationships can do to people who identify as women* - so I'm never going to be rooting for heterosexual relationships as far as women are concerned. I'm not overly prejudiced and I fully support any woman's choices for herself - and I don't have the smallest delusion that I have a right to an opinion on those choices <3 but equally I'm not going to lie to myself that women don't statistically always lose or sacrifice something of themselves when they become a partner to a man and that the man loses and sacrifices nothing - and if he makes the most basic effort he's praised as a god among men. especially not a man who's career has and will always take priority over his relationship and especially if the woman has to navigate or alter her life to deal with the man's profession, public image or his fanbase. I will always want women to pursue life on their own terms without men in any way dragging them down or altering their lives - that's just my opinion and it's fine if others disagree or hopefully project onto those relationships for any reason. so far, to me, the only driver's relationships that seem at all truly balanced and not negatively affecting or requiring compromises of the women that the man doesn't have to repay, are Lily and Alex and Melissa and Nando - and while I don't know much about them probably Tiffany and Valtteri. those women were already fully adults when they met these guys and would be able to leave the relationships whenever they want without having their own individual lives and incomes affected or altered in any way. I do not see any excuse for a woman to be in a relationship in any other way or with any further sacrifice and especially not because of a man, who will always enjoy economic and social power above hers.

*I know this is a whole unique point but as far as I'm concerned identifying as a woman is how I'm referring to women at any time. TERFs DNI.

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ok so I've heavily edited these next two bc my blog is not the place to get into All That and I don't want to bring stress and negativity to moots

I think the funniest part of this rumor is how everyone's been asking for a screen recording of this and absolutely no one can produce anything other than one screencap of Rebecca at one brief time offering subscription content with no explanation for what - and that was something all models and influencers did for a while to make some money when a bunch of platforms screwed over their engagement. everyone's just running with this as if it's anyting and wtfff you're saying all she was offering were 'pictures of Carlos from the back' LIKE BFFR what are y'all even saying here ??? who was being robbed what crime was committed how is this even worth remembering ??? the reach being rought!!

but on the serious side, I'm gonna need all of you to sit yourselves in a quiet place and start taking this spontaneous and erratic morality that magically shows up when women are involved and start actually applying it to your pookie bears in F1. because not only does Carlos and the rest of the grid exploit the media, fans and sponsorships for cash, gifts, engagement and popularity - they also endorse and personally directly fund and engage with entire companies and individuals who actively perpetuate and uphold the absolute gutter of amorality and social iniquity that is the foundation of this whole sport !!

like here you guys are hunting for any tiny scrap of something to further the prejudice that these wives and girlfiends are not your ideas of Perfect Pure Sainted Angels - meanwhile you're looking at hugely problematic words and actions from your favorite driver and literally assuming that they've suddenly "had a change of heart" or are "better people now" based on ???? nothing ???? and THEN you start hoping that the girlfriend or wife is "good for him" or that she won't "be bad for him" I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind since when does a girl or woman over the age of 15 think that rich, powerful white men in hugely problematic fields of work are the ones being cruelly corrupted by the women they personally choose to date ??? if these men are shitheads then they did it all on their own babes !!

and I have to assume that even die hard Carlos fans on here are aware of how he's very much not perfect and that anyone sensible has to admit that unless he made the decision to publicly and loudly make a statement to the contrary then all of his opinions and affiliations are the same. you can absolutely compartmentalize these guys - we all do! - in order to like certain things about them or engage in content about them, but nobody should be out here so woman-hating as to take nothing of substance and use it to award these men virtues that have no foundation in reality. all while vilifying their wives and girlfriends over literally the smallest thing or making the most tenuous of connections to try and prove why they shouldn't be with your fave guy. or because while the men can fuck and cheat all they want, you've decided the women they date or marry have to conform to regressive ideas of female purity.

(just to clarify, the stuff I'm referring to "men" or "drivers" as doing is not specifically referring to Carlos or one man in particular but about the wider issue of double standards between drivers and their girlfriends and wives)

so a wife or gf of a man with an all-consuming career that involves her altering her life and plans to go all over the world just to be with him, decides to do exactly what he does and utilize a fanbase and popularity for gain? suddenly she's an evil conniving witch capable of manipulating and controlling poor widdle rich, white, powerful, influential man !! even though he dumps women and cheats on women whenever he wants and doesn't face a single bit of criticism for fans' perceptions of problems in his relationships but oh he's just a helpless hard-working victim who is nobly doing his dream job that his one percenter family and/or social status and/or race and gender made completely effortless for him and how DARE his wife or girlfriend get any of the financial benefit from a field of sports where women are so hated that even the most powerful woman is publicly accused by the highest authority in the sport of collusion based on nothing more than one gossip columnists lie !!

I could go so fucking far about how the women these men date and marry have been socially groomed from birth to be beautiful and silently supportive of their man and told they're not good enough or smart enough to succeed in a "serious" business environment - and that the drivers conveniently always end up with beautiful women who suffer at the hands of his fans who blame women for how men treat them all while he says nothing so as not to upset his base of support - then fuck it, let them all sell you people subscriptions for pictures of the drivers! let them scrape even a tiny fraction off the top of this imbalanced and unfair socioeconomic dynamic compared to the huge, unearned kickbacks and handshakes that make these men so effortlessly successful and rich. you can see those subscriptions as payment on your part for spreading rumors and hate about women and using double standards.

the rich famous man will NOT change his life to either fit your rpf ship - or to stay single so that you can continue your parasocial relationship with him uninterrupted - or choose a woman based on who you deem to be an appropriate self-insert. no matter how many rumors you believe or spread or how often you post content hating on his partner, his choice will not be affected by you. so keep those delusions and misogyny to yourself - or at least away from my blog and inbox !

honestly anon, I've already known the content of all of your messages over the past few months and I'm choosing the least offensive one for a reason to post (edited ofc so no one can accuse me of slander or whatever)

listen: if I was at all saying that Carlos is unproblematic or publicly promoting him in any way then I'd absolutely deserve what you're saying. but for myself personally, Carlos is part of am f1blr specific hyperfixation where I stay on my blog and write stupid narratives using drivers for fun. I'm not contributing anything to his overall fanbase or giving him any of my financial or personal support. I stick to fandom spaces only and not any platform that the drivers or anyone in wider F1 circles use.

and the thing is that not only would it be putting the burden of his problematicness on me if I were to post your asks bc I alone would have to answer for them, it would also probably just be informing people of what's fully and easily available to find elsewhere. everyone I mutually follow and most people I see are fully aware that we're taking these men and for the most part using them for our own fanon rather than their actual reality. so for me to pick one driver and say look at these awful realities then I'd have to do that with all of them, including the drivers who are at all friendly with known problematic drivers and people. so while I totally understand if someone wants to kick all of F1 out of their fandom experience bc Men then jfc absolutely go for it. I'm not at all pretending that what I'm doing on my blog is worth the smallest shit! but me deciding to pick one driver out of all of them to put on blast would do nothing but make me a hypocrite and rightfully have people asking me why I don't talk about this or that driver too.

and quite frankly unless someone never supports with any male-majority content and solely focuses all of their time to intersectional feminist content then there ain't a leg to stand on to blast any other fanbase or focus on one particular person. it's fully fair to be critical! but not to get on a high horse if there's even one cishet man in your list of fandom things. honestly that could even be broadened in some cases to one cis man.

absolutely, take the truth to people who are out there on public platforms trying to claim that any of these drivers are saints and perfect humans where they could potentially be recruiting to a fanbase using false narratives and covering up problematic behavior. but ask yourself if you're time is best spent mostly attacking women and girls in fanbases over this or going right to the comments and tags that squarely target the men themselves.

but on here I've got to kind of assume we all know what the score is and nobody's in denial that these are mere Rich Powerful Men and none of them deserves our actual serious allegiance yk ??? I feel like we're all aware this is us having fun and we're all accepting that while we can block and blacklist tags based on personal preferences, none of us in f1blr who likes a male driver can pretend to be superior to liking a different one. at best they're better at keeping their mouths shut but they also permit and overlook a LOT. and yes, that includes Lewis even though my god he has a gigantic lead on the rest in terms of progressive actions and deeds compared to any other man in F1. and that while he still has unaddressed problematic associations and behavior, all of us white fans need to be fucking vigilant of going after him if we're not fully going ten times harder on the white drivers.

[ageless-aislynn]

Dear friends, I believe it's time to send a computer exorcist to my humble dwelling place. The reason I've been gone (if you've noticed I've been gone) for the past few days? 5 more blue screens of death and one refusal to completely shut down.

The utter heartbreak of these things? This is a new computer. My dad got it for me for Christmas.

I've been in charge of a computer for at least 20 years now. I've dealt with many problems, I've caused my fair share of problems through just ignorance at the start, through not checking things out thoroughly enough before installing them or whatever (again, at the start). I've dealt with viruses, malware, just weird borked up problems that develop over time as a computer ages. But I've never had multiple computers act like this at the same time.

It's got to be me. But I don't know how or why. This issue started with my poor Mass Effect: Andromeda again. I installed Steam and then Halo and everything ran perfectly (this girl has more RAM so the graphics are GORGEOUS). I installed MEA and when I tried to launch it, I got thrown into a loop of blue screen-reboot-blue screen-reboot 4 times. I finally got it out of that and started researching the problem. Turns out my graphics card driver, which was supposed to support DirectX 12, had a big ol' blank where it came to DirectX. Updated the driver, MEA could launch without dying.

That night, I shut the computer down, everything looked normal, the monitor went off, the keyboard and mouse shut down, but the pc itself stayed powered on. Dead but humming away, utterly unable to be reached by mouse or keyboard. 😐 Had to hard shut it down, then this morning, discovered that it was an known issue with a Windows update. 😑 At least you can uninstall updates.

Then while I was sitting here just looking at my email... blue screen. Oh, didn't you know that that wasn't the right Network adapter driver? Silly girl! Updated it.

Now I'm just staring at it, waiting for the next disaster. I legit feel cursed right about now. I don't see how I could've anticipated any of the above but yet... I'm sure it's somehow my fault. Just like whatever else goes wrong. It'll be my fault for wanting a working computer, I guess. I feel SO BAD for my dad. He wanted to do something so nice and awesome for me (and he DID) and I didn't want to tell him about all of these issues but he came through during one of the blue screen moments so there was no hiding it.

Otherwise, it's an amazing computer, has so much power and if I can just get it past these weird driver issues (everything is updated now, done directly, not using the Windows update thing), I think she'll be a great, awesome pc friend.

I just wish I didn't feel so cursed right now. This is such a wonderful gift and I feel terrified to be happy about it because then something else goes wrong.

Also, apropos of nothing but I truly dislike Windows 11 emojis. Where are my cute emojis? Now they all look as borked up as I feel! 😱😱😱 (Depending on your device, they probably look exactly the same as they did before, of course. 😉But to me? They looked CURSED. 😨)

The ones on the left are the ones I'm used to. The ones on the right are trying to look 3D, I guess? But at a small size, they just look weird and unclear or something to me. Not a big deal, I'll adapt, but I'm an emoji girl, y'all know that if you've been around me long enough, and this makes me feel like I'm suddenly speaking with an unfamiliar accent or something.

Ending with the minor issue. I'll hopefully catch back up with everything I've missed ASAP if my new girl can outrun the out-of-the-box driver issues she's been plagued with. Poor, sweet girl. I know she's good, they just gave her a terrible start. 🤗

THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT HUG EMOJI. 😭OH MAN THIS ONE IS EVEN WORSE.

*sigh* Goodbye for now, frens. Love you. 💖

[erensproudsimp]

Confession

Jean kirschtein x reader Oneshot

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : You didn't want to admit your feelings to Jean in fear of losing him until tables were turned.

"I wonder how much everyone changed after all this time", you said staring at the moving landscape through the windshield.

"I'm pretty sure there's a lot to catch up with friends you haven't met since one year", Annie replied from the driver's seat.

"I bet Historia and Ymir must be dating by now", you chuckled.

"That wouldn't be much of a shocker to me to be honest", Annie added face straight at the road.

It's been one year since your friend group graduated university and because everyone was preoccupied with their individual lives, y'all didn't have the opportunity to meet up. Until today as Jean had organised a party at his mansion. The thought of his name made your face feel hot. For as long as you can remember you've always felt a certain type of way towards that horse face.

"Thinking about him huh", Annie said noticing the redness on your cheeks.

'Wha- what do you mean? No I'm not thinking of Jean", you responded frantically looking away.

" I didn't say a name though." You could see Annie smirking in the corner of your eyes.

"Don't you think it's high time you tell him about your feelings? Who knows he likes you back too and besides you two would actually make a pretty good couple looking back at how both of you were with each other," Annie suggested.

"I don't know about that, Annie, you know I fear rejection", you said dejectedly while reminiscing at the good old days when all you and Jean did was tease the hell out of each other and pull pranks with Sasha and Connie on teachers and the others.

Soon after you reached a grand gate.

"Open up horse face it's me and y/n," Annie said over the radio.

"Yeah yeah and don't call me horse face!" Jean scoffed on the microphone. Hearing his voice made butterflies errupt in your stomach. It was the first time you were coming over his house and damn the boy was rich rich as you looked at the magnificent well-kept garden enriched by a fountain in the middle face-to-face with stairs leading to the three story illuminated building.

When you reached inside, your eyes fell on Mikasa who was lounging on the couch. Shrieking you threw yourself on her, "Oh my god! Oh my god! Mikasa It's been so long!"

"Ahaha! Welcome y/n! I missed you too now stop crushing me," Mikasa coughed from the impact of your bodies colliding.

"Did someone get hurt? Why was there a scream?" Eren inquired coming from what seems to be the kitchen with Armin.

"Oh its just y/n", Armin said as you ran and jumped on him making both of you fall down laughing, "Armiiin! I missed you so much!"

"What's all this commotion about?" Connie asked revealing himself accompanied by Sasha who was savoring a pizza, a quizzical look on her face.

"Gosh I missed you guys so much! where are the rest?" you asked a tear in your right eye.

"Reiner, Berthold, Marco and Jean are setting up the projector to watch a movie and Ymir and Historia haven't reached ye-", Eren was cut off with the arrival of said people.

"Hola amigos! We have news for you all!" Ymir shouted while hugging Historia, "We're finally going out with each other!"

"Tell me why am I not surprised," Annie said as Historia blushed and Ymir just frowned at her words. Just at that moment Jean entered the room alongside with the boys making everyone invited present in the hall.

All the blood in your body rushed to your face as you saw Jean being a totally different person from last year. He grew a goatee on his face and his hair was longer too which seemed to be a mullet. He was wearing a casual grey hoodie and sweatpants yet this was so hot to you.

Your voice was stuck in your throat when you tried to say a word to him but either ways the monent the came he announced that everything was ready for the movie. He didn't even acknowledge your presence or make eye contact with you. It felt odd as you two were so close and he barely looked in your direction.

Everyone proceeded to go to the cinema hall which was located in the basement. You took your seat between Annie and Mikasa and Jean was right behind you. In a few the movie 'Attack on titan' started. Fifteen minutes in and you had already finished all your popcorn so you got up to fetch more from the kitchen. While going out you noticed that Jean and Marco were not in the hall but you choose to ignore it to go fetch your food. Right before you entered your destination you heard two voices coming from a room. You usually don't eavesdrop but the sudden mention of your name intrigued you to do so.

"It's now or never Jean who knows after how long you would finally see y/n again", you heard Marco said to Jean.

"I don't know Marco this seems like a bad decision to me", Jean continued.

"How would you know about that Jean? You think you know how y/n truly feels but you may be wrong you know ", your heart skipped a beat after hearing this.

Did this mean it was what you were thinking?

"Marco, I think it's for the best I don't tell y/n how I feel about her/them", Jean mumbled. So that's why he's been ignoring you. This confirmed your thoughts and under the shock you lost your footing pushing the door you were leaning against open. Jean saw his life flash in front of his eyes when he realised you heard what he said.

"You know what, I am letting you two alone to talk", Marco said taking his leave giving you a reassured look before closing the door behind him

You looked at Jean with soft eyes while he turned his back on you with his hand on the back of his neck. You noticed that the tips of his ears were red and before you could say anything he spoke up.

"So you heard what I said huh, would you please forget about it? I don't want to lose you because you're aware of my feelings for you", Jean said looking down with his back still facing you.

"Jean look at me", you asked him but he refused to do so which resulted in you walking to face him but he still looked away.

You grabbed his face to make him look at you. Jean was expecting you to reject him but instead you pressed your lips against his. His eyes widen at your action and he kissed you back more roughly when it hit him.

You pushed him to the bed as you sat on his lap continuing to makeout with him. His hands roamed around your body from your waist to finally grab your ass and give it a little squeeze.

You pulled back with a string of saliva connecting your mouths and looked him.

He looked at you thinking if only you knew how beautiful you were in his eyes.

"Does this mean you return my feelings?" Jean hopingly asked.

"Who kisses their best friend without feelings moron?" you smiled at him bopping his nose.

At this instant your mouths collided with each other again. Your hand reached down to peel his hoodie off his body and goddamn he was hot. You ran your petite hands against his hard muscular chest and abbs as Jean was looking at you adoringly.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin and attacked your neck with kisses. He ran this tongue on the skin while he unbuttoned your shirt to reveal your red bra. He went down from your neck to your collarbone leaving hickeys behind. A sharp pain followed by pleasure made you purr. He skilfully opened your bra with his one hand while the other was in your hair pulling it.

As your undergarment fell to the floor his jaw dropped at the sight of your perfect boobs in front of him. It felt like a blessing that he was witnessing you in this state. While he was busy gawking at you, you took his big slender hands and placed it on them. His cheeks took a bright red colour.

You grinded on his thighs feeling him getting harder. He let out a soft grunt feeling this sensation. He was sucking on one nipple and pinching the other one which made you throw your head back in absolute bliss.

Jean then advanced into helping you take off your pants leaving you in your panties. The more this man undresses you the more mesmerised he was by your figure. He slid his fingers up and down your cunt feeling how wet he made you when he barely even touched you.

"Would you sit on my face? please", Jean breathed with eyes filled with lust. You felt your clit pulsating at his request and you knew Jean could feel it too on his thigh. You nodded with your flushed face unable to say anything out of embarrassment.

He laid down on the bed as you took off your panties. Climbing on him his hands grabbed your waist guiding you right above his mouth. He ran his tongue through your folds making you lose your breath. He held you still so that you wouldn't move away while he was eating you out. He flicked your bud then inserted his tongue into and out you. You held onto the bed counter for support, your hair falling on your face.

"Jeannn", you moaned as you began riding his face. Jean was delighted let his tongue flat to let you pleasure yourself on him. Moving up and down you ravished this sweet feeling coursing through you. Soon after your legs began trembling signaling you were reaching your climax.

"Go ahead cum on my face please y/n", Jean pleaded and you did as he told. He felt your juices ran down his neck as he was savoring the taste.

"This is the best dinner of my life," he panted as you got off him. Your heart was beating so hard against your ribs as though it would come out.

You returned to your original place on his lap. You helped him take off his sweatpants watching his hard member spring free.

"Are you okay with this?" Jean asked.

"I've waited years to be able to do it so hell yeah I am," shifting yourself on his lap to make his dick right outside your entrance, you slowly inserted it in you. Feeling the neediness grow bigger Jean couldn't take it and pushed you down completely making his dick disappear in you. You bit his shoulder to help you bear with this immense pleasure.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good", Jean moaned being wrapped with your tight walls.

Pulling back from his shoulder you looked at him in the eyes as you rode him, your foreheads touching each other. Your boobs were bouncing from your up and down movement making you look so erotic to Jean. With time you picked more speed and was moving quicker. Jean was losing his mind at this. Your bodies blended into one. Jean bit his lips and grabbed your thighs so hard it was leaving marks. Your lips connected into a sloppy yet passionate kiss.

"Shit y/n I'm reaching my limit"

"Let's cum together Jean"

Jean was thrusting his hips into you out of instinct. The room was filled with the heavy breathing of both of you and the dirty sound of your ass and his thighs clapping.

Your body freezed as you let everything out of you and felt Jean's hot liquid inside of you. You screamed his name against his chest. Removing his dick from you, you sat on his lap looking into each other's eyes.

Suddenly you heard the door open revealing Eren outside.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" the poor boy appologised closing the door as fast as he could.

Jean and you broke into a laughter being happy that one of two finally confessed.

End.

Thank you for reading. :)

[xpao-bearx]

《Original post here》

Part 2 HERE

SUMMARY: [Supernatural TWD AU] In which Negan is a kinky incubus, Rick Grimes is your secret guardian angel, and Daryl Dixon is a gruff monster/demon hunter. Three drastically different men who can only agree on one thing: making you theirs.

PAIRINGS: Reader x Negan, Reader x Rick Grimes, Reader x Daryl Dixon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please be prepared and do NOT report.

NOTE: This is actually my first time ever writing an xReader story series as well as writing on Tumblr (I usually only write on Wattpad). As such, it probs won't be perfect though I would SERIOUSLY appreciate your *respectful* feedback and support!

I understand writing xReader content can get a lil tricky, so please just keep in mind that not everything Y/N says or does would be something that you'd do IRL or even approve of. Also, sometimes I may not help but put a teeny bit of myself in Y/N...

Lastly, I recently got back into the TWD fandom after a looong ass time and I'm taking a while re-watching the whole show. So I apologize in advance if my portrayal of any of the characters are rusty or I may not remember too much of the events from the show, but I promise to do my very best and hope y'all enjoy~!! \(^o^)/

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @blccdyknuckles and @negans-attagirl 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 1

The sounds of laughter and easygoing chatter filled your ears as you walked closer to the church, a light breeze blowing through your F/C floral dress and the sun blinding your eyes. It was Sunday, most residents of the small town of Alexandria having gathered for mass.

It was a day like any other; peaceful and happy, children giggling and chasing each other around as their parents socialized outside before church could start.

Your heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you were just about to enter the building before a familiar voice called out.

"Y/N!"

Spinning, a huge smile instantly reached your ears as you saw none other than Carl Grimes waving enthusiastically at you as he jumped out of a car. From the driver's seat, his father soon followed as he stepped out.

Rick Grimes--dedicated sheriff of this fine town. His usual uniform forgone, instead replaced with a casual navy coloured suit. His baby blues met your E/C, flashing you a bright smile of his own that rivalled the sun itself.

Carl was running towards you now, and once in front he gave you a big hug.

"Settle down, cowboy! It's as if you haven't seen me in forever." You chuckled, ruffling Carl's hair affectionately.

"That's 'cause it did feel like forever." Carl pouted, eventually letting go as he looked up at you.

Before you can reply, Rick patted Carl's head and greeted you. "Hey, Y/N. How are things?" He asked in that endearing Southern accent of his.

"Just fine." You nodded, grinning before you couldn't help but let your gaze wander around a bit. "No Judith?"

It was then that Rick's smile faltered, but just barely. You nearly didn't catch it. "No. She's with her mom."

Rick was divorced from his ex-wife, Lori, after he discovered her cheating on him with his also now ex-bestfriend Shane Walsh. After the divorce, Shane and Lori quickly moved to the neighbouring community of Woodbury together and agreed on joint custody of the kids.

It really made your blood boil; you've interacted with Lori only a few times before so you didn't really have much of an opinion on her...that is, until, you learned what had happened between her and Rick. You knew it wasn't any of your business, but you cared about Rick a lot and he sure as hell didn't deserve to get cheated on.

"Oh." Was all you could say, quite stupidly. Your cheeks reddened, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "Will I see her in the daycare tomorrow, though?" You were a daycare teacher and even though you loved all of the kids, Judith was your favourite. She was simply such a sweetheart.

Rick nodded, his smile softening. "You got it."

You couldn't continue the conversation as the bells rang, making you jump out of your skin. Carl, noticing this, laughed which made you playfully roll your eyes before slinging an arm around him as all of you went inside.

♡♡♡

You took your place near the back of the church with Carl and Rick. Once everyone was settled and done singing, the service began and Father Gabriel stood on top of the podium. A few minutes into his sermon, the interruption of a motorcycle revving loudly outside sliced through the air. Gabriel flinched in surprise, and it was obvious he was desperately trying to keep his cool. Finally, when it was silent again, you found yourself biting back a smile knowing all too well who had caused the ruckus.

It seems Rick knew, too, judging from how his jaw clenched and his hands turned into tight fists.

The doors were thrown open, making Gabriel flinch once more and some of the congregation turning in the pews to look. But poor Gabriel quickly fumbled with his Bible, raising his voice just a tad to regain their attention.

There was a low whistle accompanying the approaching footsteps, but the congregation did their damn hardest to ignore the latest visitor.

"Damn... I assumed the church would be a lot more welcoming than this." A husky voice whispered, and you at last couldn't hold back as a smile broke through.

"Negan." You whispered back, turning slightly in your seat to see he has taken the spot behind you. His leather clad arms lackadaisically resting on your chair, the musky scent of his cologne invading your senses oh so wonderfully. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What? Is it really that surprising, darlin'?" He grinned, presenting a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "I go to church."

"Not all the time." You pointed out.

"Ah..." He chuckled softly, hazel eyes twinkling. "That's 'cause Father Creepy McGee over there is just that. Creepy. As. Shit."

You bit the inside of your cheeks, suppressing your laughter. True, Gabriel did have his moments, but he wasn't that bad. That didn't change the fact that Negan knew exactly how to tickle your funny bone, though.

He was new to Alexandria. It was a lovely town, but since it was relatively small not a lot of people want to move here not unless it was families looking for their children to grow up in a safe environment. Which was why it was quite a shock to find out that a single man like Negan chose this destination, and even more so when he took everyone aback with his infamous pottymouth and rather inappropriate charisma.

He had moved just a couple of houses down from yours, and you made it your mission to befriend him. Right from the get-go, he had piqued your interest and curiousity. He was different from everyone else--even possessing an air of mystery about him--and that definitely intrigued you. And also, perhaps you were just too nice and didn't want him to feel outcasted. Although, that didn't seem like an issue to him at all.

"Want one?" You were brought back to reality when you saw Negan's hand outstretched with a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, we're in church." You reprimanded, frowning.

Negan didn't say anything, only cocking a brow and still with that same shit-eating grin. You sighed, finally giving in as you swiftly grabbed one and stashed it away in your purse for later.

"Y/N." You turned to the left, Rick's icy gaze piercing you. "Pay attention."

"R-Right. Sorry..." You mumbled sheepishly.

Carl, who was sitting in the middle of you and Rick, had dozed off. Rick nudged him, but the brunette only groaned softly and snuggled into Rick's chest. Defeated, the sheriff sighed and was just about to listen again to Gabriel before Negan cut in.

"Rick!" Negan purposely raised his voice, knowing it would get a rise out of the other man. "Didn't even see ya there. Howdy, cowboy!"

Rick grimaced, and it looked like he was just going to ignore Negan though he knew that if he did that then Negan would just irritate him even further. "Good to see you, Negan." He forced himself to say.

"Only you can say that while giving me such a deadly side eye, Grimes." Negan snickered. "How have you been? How's the wife?"

Rick flushed, his fists in a tight ball again and it looked like his nails would be digging into his skin. You abruptly swung into action, placing a hand on Rick's own.

"Rick..." You said gently. "It's okay. Calm down."

Rick did, his shoulders drooping as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He can barely pay any attention to Gabriel now, then you suddenly stood up and grabbed Negan's arm.

"We need to talk. Now."

"What, we going for a quickie?" Negan smirked, but that soon faded when he saw your serious expression. He sighed dramatically, reaching his full height as he towered over you before following you out.

At this point, you didn't care if people saw what transpired or would even start gossiping. No one, not even Negan, was allowed to harass Rick. He has helped you through so much shit--more than you'd like to admit--and you at least owed him this much.

Once outside, next to where Negan parked his motorcycle, you exploded. "What the fuck is with you?! You leave Rick alone, or I swear to fucking Christ I will--"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses, missy!" Negan guffawed, his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I like 'em feisty, but goddamn! Watch your fucking language."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Did you just scoff at me?" He raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly drew closer to you. A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, tilting his head slightly. "No one's ever fucking scoffed at me and didn't regret it soon after."

You frowned, letting out a huff as you met his gaze challengingly. "As if you'd do anything to me."

He was silent for several moments before chuckling, leaning back against his motorcycle. "You're right. I have too much of a soft spot for ya." He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it then taking a drag. He drew his head upwards, puffing out the smoke. "Whaddya say we just forgive and forget? I truly am sorry. You can even tell Rick that I am metaphorically down on my goddamn knees begging for forgiveness~"

"I'm not forgiving or forgetting anything until you actually face Rick and apologize yourself." You muttered. And without another word, you spun on your heel and strutted back inside the church with your head held high.

Negan's intent stare lingered where your ass had just been, taking another long drag and letting out a small laugh to himself.

His eyes suddenly glowed a crimson red, a smirk playing on his lips.

Oh, he really did pick a GREAT one.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I A VENOMOUS INTERLUDE

Did y'all know symbrock is canon? Well, now you do. Reader's favourite deadbeat surrogate uncle is in town and he brought a... Friend. No warnings, just a boatload of crack and fluff, as usual. Reader being mouthy. Takes place a little bit into the future - around after chapter 32: spoiler alert is useless because we already know a tonybrucestrange/reader quartet is the endgame. 💖💝✨

"What," I had to pause for a second for my brain to catch up with my eyes. "The fuck?!"

It was truly a miracle I could say anything out loud, at all. Words weren't valid enough to describe my shock and confusion. The scene unfolding in front of me resembled and unholy cross between a B-rated horror movies about demonic possession and some deep-sea Eldritch monstrosity.

The eight-feet tall black, oozing dude in front of me? Yes, you, with the teeth. Ctulhu called, he wants his tentacles back.

The creature honest to god rippled, like some nightmare-fuel goth Jell-O, rapidly shrinking in size within seconds. As more of the black tar-like substance receded, a much more human form started to appear under it. Worn jeans, leather jacket, ungroomed beard and the look of a biker gang member coming off a serious bender.

"Uh, Princess?"

"Eddie. Fucking. Brock. Uncle Idiot." I punctuated each word with an increasing widening of my eyes. The world was fucking nuts. Two and two did not compute - Eddie might have looked threatening to some people - like white suburban Karens - even without the... Gooey squid-on-steroids thing he had going on. The man was built like a fucking brick shithouse, but I knew him way too well. Eddie couldn't be that badass to save a life.

"You two know each other?" Tony shrieked indignantly, a coarseness in his voice that indicated only one thing: my boo was well into his third drink. Hell, I didn't blame him - that gaping toothy maw was fucking gnarly.

Hands on my hips, I caught myself slipping into a mute rage, storming over to the 200lbs worth of pure dumbass and knocking him right in the face. "You! Didn't tell! ME!" A black tendril wrapped around my wrist, carefully but firmly securing it and preventing me from causing my non-related uncle any more physical damage. Although I must admit, my knuckles probably were more affected than his jaw. "You! Are! A MUTANT!!! HOW COULD YOU?! How could you NOT tell ME?"

I trusted the man with my soul and most embarrassing drinking stories. Hell, I called Eddie in a stoned haze the very same night I lost my v-card. I just thought we were bros, you know? I saw his whole fucking life implode more than once and personally flew to California to ice his injuries and his hurt ego countless times. I was done dirty in the worst way.

"I'm not-" Eddie's sigh was long-suffering. "I, uh, I have a parasite..." He sounded meek, in the same way he used to describe his drunkenly misconduct when I made our family driver bail out his ass outta jail in the morning.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" A deep gravelly voice thundered, seemingly coming out of his chest?

"Okay, okay," Eddie smiled. It was strangely soft and un-eddie-like. The only person he smiled like that was... used to be Anne. "This is Venom. They're an alien and we're, uh, a thing. It's a recent development." The tentacle unwrapped itself from me as I took an involuntary step back.

Even barring the fact that Eddie was dating an alien, this was way too fucking weird for 3 o'clock on a Sunday. I always knew the reporter was, for the lack of a better word, a little weird but he really took it to new heights. With Thor and Loki looking... Like that, I could see a human dating some sort of a hot alien. But with Ctulhu looking the way he did just minutes ago? Did Eddie seriously let all of those teeth in close proximity of his dick?

I had a "ERROR 404, common sense not found" hanging over me for the longest time. The others were quiet behind me, too, even Tony - one of my boyfriends, the most likely to cause utter chaos, was hanging back and expecting me to do something.

"Venom," I clarified, just to fill the silence with some noise while my brain processors re-synced.

"WE ARE VENOM." The tentacle that was sleek and black now had two completely white eyes and a smaller-scale version of the toothy grin that had drooled all over the common room carpet. Their voice had an interesting effect: it was so deep, the air around them vibrated slightly when they spoke.

I tilted my head examining the appendage. It was considerably less terrifying when it wasn't five times my size. "What are you?" And most importantly, are you a threat to my favourite non-related family member? I left that statement unspoken although it was obvious I was ready to fight it? Them? If need be.

"A SYMBIOTE," They replied, swaying the head-tentacle slowly. "WE LOVE EDDIE AND KEEP HIM ALIVE AND HEALTHY." So, they understood the actual question.

"Which is fucked up because Klyntar usually behave in the opposite way." Hearing Thor swear was, perhaps, even more unsettling than finding out about the symbiote-alien-boyfriend thing my uncle had going on. The thunderer himself was nursing a jug of golden liquid. The good Asgardian stuff, he must've been really fucking bamboozled.

"Okay. So anybody wanna fill me on the details before I beat up my favourite idiot?" I sighed, pointedly looking at Tony.

"I thought I was your favourite idiot!" He immediately retorted, hurt, but nonetheless opened his arms to give me a grounding embrace. We may have sucked face for a few seconds, because why the hell not, Tony was an amazing kisser and his tongue down my throat was very calming.

"Hold up, what the fuck?" Now it was Eddie's turn to act all offended. "Aren't you a little too young for him?"

"You and your most likely carnivorous goth space pudding can fuck right off if you're not going to be supportive of my very inappropriate, very polyamorous relationship with three incredibly hot boomers," I shot back, slipping into some resemblance of normalcy. Me and Eddie go way, way back and shitting on each other's bad life decisions was the founding stone of our bromance. Hell, he was the guy who showed me the wonders of sarcasm at an early age! Wonderbaum!

"There's three of them?" Eddie's voice pitched and he gaped, palming his face.

"SHE HAS A POINT, EDDIE. WE EAT PEOPLE. BEING UNSUPPORTIVE WOULD MAKE US LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE." Eddie's buddy stated, sounding almost fed up. So, they were sentient enough to recognize how much of a pain in the ass Eddie could be. I could work with that, disregarding the cannibalism comment, of course. What the fuck was up with that?

"Yes, Eddie, I also periodically bump uglies and trade disgustingly sweet text messages with the Hulk and a badass wizard," I rolled my eyes at the reporter's following gasp and angry muttering. "Venom, I like you."

"WE RETURN THE SENTIMENT. YOUR CHOICE IN MATES IS VERY WISE, CONSIDERING YOU ARE A WEAK MORSEL. THEY CAN PROTECT YOU."

"Shut up, Squid. I'll still kick your motherfucking ass if you hurt Eddie."

The emo space goo laughed, a terse scratching noise, showing way, way too many teeth for me to feel comfortable but I allowed myself to be placed on the couch between Tony and Eddie nonetheless. The initial shock of seeing a talking octopod with fangs passed quickly - I've seen Stephen's "trophies" he brought from his otherworldly journeys and Lovecraftian horrors were, honestly, pretty low on the gross/creepy scale.

"Both of you, explain. For the love of fuck," Tony sighed, emotionally exhausted and drained of his usual bravado.

"Eddie was my dad's friend until he moved to Cali, I've know him for fifteen years, give or take. He taught me how to ride a bike and bake the best pot brownies," I shrugged. There wasn't much to say. "I visited him whenever I could but you know, with school and then you guys, there wasn't that much time to iron out the details." I have Eddie a death glare, pointing to Venom's floaty head with my eyes.

Eddie nodded. "What she said..." And then launched an elaborate tale about some company called Life Foundation, some evil dude named Drake and his own alien pudding named Carnage, who was one ugly motherfucker judging by Eddie's and Venom's combined "ew" face, their aching need for human brains to survive and other, more trivial things, like mental breakdowns in a lobster tank and getting dumped by a fiancé and eating their way through a HYDRA base after being captured and tortured. What a wild fucking ride.

"Sounds like you had a rough year," Everybody's dumbfounded silence was ended by Tony who took a slow swig of his whiskey before speaking.

"Yeah, no shit," Eddie muttered, twisting his black coated fingers in elaborate but frankly pretty shapes. His alien wrapped around his neck like a tube scarf and additional tentacles appeared between Eddie's hands, gently prying them open and enveloping them in a sort of a hug? It was hard to compute, the black mass appeared to be totally amorphous.

"How's your anxiety?" I asked, damn well knowing Eddie's mind tended to run like Tony's: zero to sixty in point five with no clear destination. Having an alien inside of him must've really thrown Eddie for a loop.

"It's, uh, better. Venom helps," The reporter admitted, still staring at his hands but the crease between his brows had disappeared and the expression he wore was kind of fond.

"Good. You know, Venom," I thoughtfully addressed the definitely sentient creature. "Eddie is a bigger dumbass than me, which is saying something. You ought to keep a really close eye on him. If not for me, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning, like, years ago."

"WE ARE AWARE. WE CAN ACCESS EDDIE'S MEMORIES." A head manifested itself on a thicker tentacle, floating over to look me in the face but maintaining a respectful distance and staying out of my personal space bubble. "AND WE ARE THANKFUL. EDDIE IS THE PERFECT HOST. WE LOVE EDDIE."

I felt the corner of my mouth tilt upwards at the alien's proclamation. It was child-like in its blunt honesty but carried a certain weight with it. It told me whoever tries to separate those two in any way would get eaten faster than they could say "SIKE!". And honestly? I would help Venom hide the evidence.

"I literally had you for thirty minutes but I would kill everybody and then myself if you two got hurt. This is too soft, I can't." I snorted, extending a curious hand towards Venom. They looked so shiny. I had to touch them.

And they let me. Venom butted their head into my palm and let me gently run my fingers over their slightly cool, slippery flesh. It felt like putting my hands on a surprisingly sturdy yet bouncy piece of flubber. I purposely avoided the small maw and the endless rows of sharp teeth but managed to accidentally brush against something rough and scratchy - as it turned out, the Symbiote had a very long, very dexterous tongue. And didn't that give me a bunch of interesting mental images.

"Oh my God, NO!" Wanda moaned from somewhere, the voice mortified and disgusted.

"Why are you touching the people-eating alien?" Bruce yelped, entering the room with several people in tow. The scientist looked worried, a little bit green around the edges. The tablet in his hands beeped periodically, signifying the ongoing sciencing bender he was in process of.

"WE WOULD NOT EAT THIS HUMAN. WE ARE FOND OF THE MORSEL." Venom defended, well, venomously. Eddie wisely choose to stay silent, trading a knowing look with Tony.

Stephen Strange sighed, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a jagged movement. "One day, Princess, one day you will stop collecting people that are obviously bad for your health and your future. That, or space in the tower will simply run out." With a deeper, calmer sigh, the sorcerer landed in front of me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and subtly begging for a head scratch. Which meant just placing his always neatly trimmed curls under my free hand. His jealousy was about as subtle as a foot in the face.

"I'll just ask Tony to build more floors, duh," I rolled my eyes with force at the obvious solution, giving into Steph's demands, beginning to card through his hair. It was calming both of us, really.

Bruce came over to give me a kiss and my other boyfriends didn't even grumble about the scientist placing himself in my lap, crawling over both Tony and Stephen to get comfortable.

Our dynamic was unconventional and more than a little weird, but it worked for us and the rest of the team most certainly didn't complain about the vast decrease in conflict that came with the territory. Come to think of it, all of us were more tactile than just a group of friends sharing a house and I was very much on board with that. None of us except select few (looking at you, mister doctor) were hugged enough as children and we were making up for it in spades right fucking now.

"Girl has a type," Wanda remarked, like the messy little shit she was. I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

The Avengers' brain trust began talking about Venom's slightly inconvenient diet that directly resulted in multiple felonies for one Edward Brock, and as much as I tried to follow the flow and make my own, however feeble, contributions to the scientific side of the conversation, the new life form was much more interesting. I asked Venom several questions and they deemed them acceptable enough to answer - which evolved on both of us absolutely geeking out over the differences in our physiology. The space pudding didn't hold back one bit, insulting the inferior human biology with gleeful gusto.

"They need a chemical called phenethylamine," Bruce sighed, having deduced it through discussion since Venom and Eddie both protested aggressively against any kind of invasive testing. "I can synthesize it. No more head-chomping, no more murder."

It made perfect sense. Except it didn't. "Brucie-bear, you're a brilliant fucking scientist but a shit psychologist." I interrupted whatever came next. "Venom is a person, like me and you and, yes, even Hulk. Tell me this: if you found a way to get rid of Hulk, would you stop sciencing in the gamma radiation field?" I looked my boyfriend straight in the eyes, hoping for a spark of common sense. "Do you see my point? You science, Tony engineers, Steve draws and Clint bakes. Venom hunts. It's who they are, you can't give them a pill to make it go away."

The weight of my word landed in the room like lead, heavy. The only source of sound was the TV, playing the news quietly in the background for the longest time. Those few minutes felt like hours until Thor expectantly turned towards Eddie/Venom.

"IT IS SO. WE ARE AFRAID WE CANNOT INFLUENCE OUR INSTINCT TO HUNT PREY. KLYNTAR ARE APEX PREDATORS." The little black goop sounded almost apologetic. It was hard to hear undertones with their voice being so deep and grating. "BUT WE CAN TRY." Okay, I could totally hear the hope. Finding out the Eldritch horror could make puppy eyes was... Terrifying, to be honest, because they fucking worked.

"Got any better ideas?" Tony asked me sarcastically.

"I do, actually." I leveled a look with Natasha. She understood. "HYDRA goons. The aliens that, for some reason, keep invading New York every month or so. Stephen's adventures in Hell. Do I need to continue?"

"Wait, hold on," Steve raised his palms. "We don't kill HYDRA, we deposit them in SHIELD custody."

I snorted at the naïve Captain. "And what do you think happens to them there? Did you honestly think they just let torturing, murdering, world-domination planning psychos back on the streets?"

Steve frowned in confusion. "They go to prison?"

Natasha choose that moment to step up. "It's not uncommon for them to possess certain enhancements to be deemed too dangerous to be released back into society. Some of them are low-tier mutants and inhumans. Trust me, Steve, the lethal injection is a much more humane treatment than solitary life imprisonment in a ultra-high security prison." Romanoff stated with a trace of compassion. "And some mutants, we can't contain for prolonged periods of time." She added quietly, looking away.

Rogers was staring blankly into the wall, mulling over the information in his head. His intensive thought process was plainly visible on his face. I heard about some kind of fiasco with HYDRA agents suicide-bombing a city in Europe few years ago and Steve was there, along with Wanda and Sam.

"Venom is a whole person, and even if they look like they could be the main character in Call of Ctulhu video game, we can't just disregard them like they are some kind of badly behaving pet. They're my honorary uncle's boyf-sorry-significant other, for fuck's sake," I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Y'all should know I don't fuck with people who give shit to one of my own. Don't disappoint me like that." I finished, feeling more tired than I had in months. I didn't regret giving into the found family dynamic, however I didn't exactly sign up for hard choices like them vs my long lost uncle, y'know?

Great, now I had a headache and three very concerned boyfriends glaring at me for unknown reasons. The urge to pace always manifested strongly within me as the emotional atmosphere rose in the room. With Bruce dangling off my lap, I couldn't do even that and I felt the restlessness blossom into irritation more and more with each passing second of my existence.

Eddie remained silent, looking down. Venom had mostly receded into the reporter's body, save for a few tentacles tightly wrapped around Eddie's palm.

"Alright," Steve suddenly said. "We can work with that."

"Princess, you look like you're either going to cry or yell any second," Bruce said softly, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me closer.

I immediately hid my face in his chest, taking several deep, shaky breaths. "Eddie is family. Y'all are family. It's terrifying to have to choose between the two." I said, after a brief moment of hesitation.

The reporter made some sort of a choked gasp, quickly masking it with a cough - I knew him way too well to miss the way he was fighting back tears of his own. Bruce understood, he really did understand me - hopped off my lap and let me hug Eddie properly, my happy-sad tears soaking through the collar of his tee.

"You're, uh, welcome to stay. I'll have a guest room prepared." Tony cleared his throat, passing his half-finished glass to Stephen who swallowed the liquid in one gulp. My boyfriends were so fucking emotionally illiterate. Disaster humans.

Huh, I really did have a type.

Later that night, I made the mistake of barging into Eddie's room with a bottle of really fancy whiskey I liberated from Tony's overstocked liquor cabinet. Visiting my uncle and boozing and smoking on the balcony, for old times sake, was my plan and...

I failed the mission successfully.

I didn't bother knocking. As soon as I saw a pair of bare feet, my eyes traveled further up on the couch on their own volition. There were so many tentacles, a writhing, oozing silky black mass and Eddie was making sounds, unmistakable noises-

"UNSEE. UNSEE. OH MY GOD, UNSEE, UNSEE." I stumbled back into the common room shivering.

"What happened, is everything okay?" Bucky stood up as soon as he saw me enter the doorway with my face scrunched in a grimace of regret. I felt like I've gone through the five stages of grief in the shortest time possible for a human being.

Somwhere, I heard Wanda's sudden moan full of pain and misery. "Please, stop THINKING about it!"

"Brain bleach, oh my God," I cringed. "Where's the Clorox?! I have decided I don't need my eyeballs-"

"Oooh," Tony's proverbial lightbulb lit up. The engineer sounded like he was about five seconds away from building a space ship and permanently moving to another planet. "They're together-together..." Tony intercepted me nonetheless, doing the most effective thing to make me stop speaking and thinking bullshit. He kissed me. With lots of tongue.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[thestrollpatrol]

just as most people on here im extremely disappointed in lando and the other drivers for travelling during a pandemic. but getting mad at lando while you don't call out the other drivers sits wrong with me, and ik seeing a lot of that on social media. Lando should be called out for his actions, but so should Daniel, Max and Charles. Don't attack one driver but not the others. All 4 of them need to be held accountable, not just lando. If you truly care for your fave driver, you want them to make the right decisions. And traveling for fun during a pandemic is not the right decision.

As a person with an 'essential job' (as our government names it) its really upsetting seeing drivers, but also influencers and people around me not caring about the rules (my flatmate is going on a date tomorrow like wtf???). Ive been in complete isolation in my bedroom several times and my work has been absolute chaos. Yet, so many people think their fun and social contacts are more important.

i will still support Lando and Daniel when the new season starts. But for now, I'm just really mad at them. And every single one of you has the right to be mad as well. I just can't believe their isn't a single person in their lives to tell them not to travel. So if their inner circle doesn't hold them accountable, we as their fans have to do it. because in my opinion, that is also a part of being someones fan.

This is all I'm going to say on this topic. Its a bit all over the place but i had to get it off my chest. Thanks for reading my rant, im going back to playing on my nintendo switch. Can't take all the drama on tumblr and twitter. See y'all later ✌🏼✌🏼

[padme-amitabha]

Is Anakin a Mary Sue?

Now it may shock you to learn this but it turns out that Disney Star Wars is kind of a contentious topic. The fandom's been more or less divided between those who like the sequel trilogy and those who like good movies but both groups spend a great deal of time slinging [ __ ] at each other over every form of social media known to man and truly no battleground is more fiercely contested than the protagonist of each trilogy. People who hate the Disney trilogy tend to criticize Rey for being an overpowered, flawless, perfect, invincible and unrelatable character for whom everything just kind of happens with no real struggle or difficulty a Mary Sue if you will.

Meanwhile supporters of the sequel trilogy are quick to leap to her defense usually with one of two potential counter arguments:  1. You just hate strong women 2. So what if she's op as [ __ ] Anakin Skywalker from the prequels was a Mary Sue too and you don't criticize him. You just hate strong women. This argument was brought into sharp focus for me the other day when I was perusing twitter in search of calm, logical, rational discussion about the merits of the sequel trilogy and I chanced upon this little gem of a comment. Ah yes that famously perfect protagonist who wins everything, always makes the right decisions, has a selfless and compassionate personality, and is universally loved and respected by everyone. Well random twitter [ __ ] as it turns out, I am ready to have that conversation right now. So saddle up y'all because the drinker's here to round up this [ __ ] and put an end to this argument once and for all. Let us journey deep into the world of the Star Wars prequels and see if we can figure out whether Anakin Skywalker really is a Mary Sue.

Now in order to do this, we have to nail down what exactly a Mary Sue is. Well according to the dictionary definition it's a term used to describe a fictional character, usually female, who is seen as too perfect and almost boring for lack of flaws originally written as an idealized version of an author in fanfiction. Now the finer points of what makes a Mary Sue can vary depending on who you talk to but after consulting multiple sources and drawing upon my own experiences as a writer, there's a few common traits that I think most people would generally agree on:

1.      Mary Sues usually possess skills and abilities that are not consistent with their situation and personal history. They can do stuff they shouldn't realistically be able to and they can do it better than anyone else.

2.      They usually possess flawless idealized personalities that no real person could measure up to they never give in to negative emotions like anger, greed, jealousy, selfishness or arrogance.

3.      They're universally loved respected and embraced by every good character they encounter even when there's no logical reason for this to happen.

4.      They never get seriously challenged, fail at anything or get beaten by anyone, success and victory come easily to them.

5.      They always make good decisions and strive to do what's right in any situation so why is this actually a problem.

Well I think the answer should be obvious, Mary Sues are boring as [ __ ]. If a character has got no flaws or weaknesses and never really gets challenged or tested by anything then what is there to get invested in?

It's the flaws and failings of a character that make them interesting in the first place and their struggle to rise above and overcome these flaws that make them so compelling. If these things are missing from a character, then there's nothing for the audience to latch onto or care about. There's nothing to like or root for. That's the essence of a Mary Sue and that's what we're going to be looking at here. So, with that in mind let's see how Anakin stacks up against this list shall we?

Point number one: Being overpowered and having abilities that he shouldn't. Now this more than anything else is what people tend to latch onto when they criticize Anakin and who can blame them really? On the surface it seems pretty ridiculous to see a nine-year-old boy doing stuff like this autopilot but let's put it into a wider context, shall we? When we first meet Anakin in The Phantom Menace, he's a slave living with his mother on Tatooine. He's spent most of his life salvaging junk and using it to make new stuff that can marginally improve their quality of life. As a result, he's become pretty good with technology. Well that makes sense, I guess. He's even applied these technical skills to pod racing where he's been fairly successful despite suffering at least one major crash that we know about. Again, this kind of makes sense when you consider he's strong with the force which would likely give him heightened perception reactions and understanding of the world around him, you know qualities that are important to high performance racing drivers. Anyway, his racing abilities allow the main characters to win an engine part that they need to repair their ship as well as enough money to buy his freedom. Sensing his importance Qui-Gon Jinn takes him under his wing and begins to teach him about the force. Remember when older mentor characters were allowed to teach the protagonist things? I miss that. He also takes part in a space battle that destroys an enemy mothership at the climax of the movie. Now as goofy as this scene is in its execution, it's not actually inconsistent with Anakin’s abilities and experiences. If you've worked around technology vehicles and ships your entire life and you can pilot a racing pod to a high standard then it stands to reason that you could probably operate other types of spacecraft as well, particularly if you have a droid on board to manage most of the ship's systems for you. However, for the sake of argument let's concede the Anakin in The Phantom Menace is indeed more skilled competent and capable than your average person.

So, what kind of effect would this have on a young man from an impoverished background suddenly thrust into a much larger world of power, politics and opportunity? Well that brings me neatly along to point number two: Mary Sues are supposed to have flawless personalities never giving in to anger, jealousy, resentment, vengeance or ambition. All throughout the second and third movies in the prequel trilogy, Anakin displays an increasingly severe set of personality flaws that begin to undermine his position in the world and his relationship with other characters. He's impetuous and hot-headed, frequently rushing into dangerous situations without waiting for backup or considering the risk to himself particularly when someone he cares about is in danger. Keep that one in mind because it'll be important later. He's ambitious but also impatient, feeling like he's been unfairly held back by other characters, particularly Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this resentment causes a growing rift between the two men that eventually spills out into open conflicts. Rather than taking the longer and harder path to wisdom and understanding, Anakin wants everything right away. He also cares deeply about people close to him and this attachment often manifests in explosive bites of anger and jealousy when he feels that they're being threatened like when his mother gets kidnapped and killed by Tusken Raiders, causing Anakin to go on a violent rampage that escalates into wholesale slaughter. Afterwards even he's shocked by what he did or when he believes that Padme has turned against him by Obi-Wan Kenobi, causing him to lash out violently against both of them. By this point he's been totally consumed by uncontrolled jealousy anger resentment and betrayal. All of the emotions that lead to the dark side of the force. The point here is clear: if you [ __ ] with someone he cares about then mercy and compassion go right out the window.

All of his skills, abilities and potential which seemed so overpowered and unnecessary in the first movie in fact serve a very important purpose for his character development. They've generated a sense of superiority, arrogance and overconfidence, and a reluctance to listen to criticism or advice no matter how well intentioned they might be. These are dangerous flaws in his personality all by themselves but combined with his overwhelming emotional attachment to people he cares about it creates a potent cocktail of reckless ambition and deep-seated insecurity that makes him uniquely vulnerable to manipulation something which will later prove disastrous because while Mary Sues are universally loved respected and trusted by everyone, Anakin certainly isn't in the first movie. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu and Yoda are all against training Anakin to become a Jedi despite his obvious potential because they know he's already too old to be inducted. This lack of early discipline in his life would leave a dangerous gap in his personality, making him unpredictable and less able to control his emotions, two factors which are extremely dangerous for Jedi. These misgivings would carry over to the next two movies where Anakin is elevated to the Jedi high council on Palpatine’s orders but the council itself refuses to grant him the rank of master because they feel he hasn't earned it yet. Now a different man would see this as an opportunity to prove himself by working hard and earning their trust eventually winning them over and gaining the recognition he deserves but Anakin takes this as a personal insult from the council which drives a deeper wedge between him and a Jedi order which he believes will never truly respect or accept him. Wow it's almost like Palpatine knew this was going to happen and engineered the whole thing to pull Anakin closer to him portraying himself as the only one who can help Anakin realize his full potential. It's a surprisingly smart piece of characterization that's completely consistent with everything we know about both men. The higher Anakin rises the more it stokes the fire of his ambition and superiority and the more he comes to see anyone who doubts or cautions him as a threat to his success. This arrogance and overconfidence also causes him to test himself against powerful opponents before he's actually ready for them and unlike Mary sues who easily win every battle they have to fight, Anakin’s recklessness causes an escalating series of losses like here where he tries to take on count Dooku all by himself and it ends with Anakin getting his [ __ ] arm sliced off. But his desire for revenge against the man who defeated him ultimately causes a more powerful and better prepared Anakin to execute him in the following movie, again proving his willingness to give into vengeance and anger even against helpless opponents or here in his climactic confrontation with Obi-Wan where his enemy has the advantage but Anakin presses the attack anyway and well I think we know how that turns out. Just as a side note I love how this carries over to Return of the Jedi. See Luke’s taking the high ground here just like Obi-Wan did.

What we have here is a clear pattern of behavior from a man whose ambitions consistently outstrip his abilities. Rather than demonstrating patience and restraint and taking the slower and harder path to lasting wisdom and fulfillment, Anakin’s inherent character flaws cause him to push himself beyond breaking point with increasingly disastrous consequences which brings me neatly along to the final points: whereas Mary Sues consistently make good righteous decisions and always strive to do the correct thing, Anakin on the other hand demonstrates a consistent pattern of mistakes and misjudgments that ultimately cost him everything. As I've already shown you the flaws in his personality are exacerbated by his powers and abilities making him easy prey for a ruthlessly ambitious man that knows exactly how to flatter his ambitions and prey on his weaknesses this eventually causes him to commit terrible crimes like murdering an entire tribe including unarmed civilians murdering children, executing a helpless opponent, helping to kill a jedi master, trying to murder his own wife, trying to kill his mentor and best friend, joining forces with an evil dictator to overthrow the republic, delivering this scene…

What I’m trying to say with all this is that Anakin Skywalker is the very furthest thing from a Mary Sue that you can get. Trying to label him as a Mary Sue for no other reason than because he's good at lots of stuff demonstrates a complete misunderstanding of what a Mary Sue is and also of who Anakin is. The reality is that he's a powerful but deeply flawed man whose unique combination of circumstances and abilities have created a dangerous personality that's vulnerable to manipulation and corruption his greatest strengths ultimately proved to be his most terrible weaknesses with consequences that echo across the entire galaxy. Now I have my own thoughts on the prequel trilogy as a whole and I’d be lying if I said they were great movies but fundamentally I think the story they tell is actually pretty [ __ ] good and I’m just gonna say it: Anakin’s rise to power and fall to the dark side is a damn good piece of character work that Disney would have done well to pay more attention to. Anyway, that's all I’ve got for today. Go away now.

I would argue the prequels are great movies but he makes some very good points. I have seen so many Disney fans claim Anakin is a Mary Sue, when he’s anything but a Mary Sue. 

[halfandhalfshoto]

“You were busy.” | kageyama tobio

- hi! i got this prompt from this blog

- pairing: tobio kageyama x reader

- warnings: angst!, cursing

- word count: 1,763

Kageyama was once again tired from all the training he underwent. It was past 12AM when he arrived at your house, and by then you had already fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive.

They began training harder this past month as their match with the MSBY Black Jackals was nearing. They'd been training non-stop.

He sighed of disappointment—laced with guilt—as he stared at your sleeping figure. You're asleep and yet you still look like the angel that you always are. Kageyama thought to himself. He hated this, you know. He hated how he always arrives late to your dates, how he always seems to miss your calls, how he always comes home to find you asleep, alone on the bed. You don't know how badly he misses the times when you and him goofed around, when you would cook dinner for him and you'd both cuddle and watch a movie afterwards, how he'd open up to you like he's never done to anyone else before.

If he could just go back to high school with you, even if it was just for a week, a day, or even an hour. He'd do anything to make that happen. You always supported him with his dreams. You'd show up at his practice matches, cheering you on beside Coach Ukai. The Karasuno VBC loved you because you took good care of him. You'd bring them food whenever possible and were close to them, close enough for them to always ask Kageyama where you were whenever you weren't around.

“Those were the days,” He mumbled as he stepped out of the shower, ready to sleep beside you.

He sunk onto the space beside you, pulling the blanket up until his chest. He turned to his side, your calm face in front of him. A strand of your hair fell upon you, and he gently pushed it back, cupping your face in the process.

As if you could sense his touch, you move and wrap your hands around him. He wasn't startled. After all, he was already planning to cuddle you anyway.

-

You awoke to Kageyama beside you. Startled, you rubbed your eyes to see if it was really him. Oh, it is him. You thought to yourself excitedly.

Now, it wasn't that you were overreacting to the situation, but you rarely awaken to find Kageyama besides you. These days, he usually leaves early in the morning for training and comes home late at night, so when you saw him sleeping soundly beside you, you couldn't help but let out a grin. Maybe he called in sick. You thought to yourself once again. Yes, maybe that's what's happening. Actually, you don't really care how he got the day off, but seeing him sleeping beside you again just made your heart flutter with excitement.

Carefully, you removed his arm around your waist, got out of the bed, fixed up in the bathroom and went straight to the kitchen. You made him breakfast and thought that for lunch, you'd cook his favorite—pork curry with an egg on top. Humming happily as you set up the table, you suddenly heard Kageyama curse as he seemed to be scrambling inside the bedroom. Curious as to what the fuss was about, you stop what you were doing and went to him.

“Tobio, is everything okay?” You asked as you entered the room. You felt your heart ache a bit as you saw him preparing his bag, grabbing his towel as he was about to take a shower.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Tobio asked, frustrated. You didn't know how to answer that. You thought he took the day off, maybe called in sick in order to spend the day with you.

Turns out you just assumed he did.

For the first time, he was late for training. You guessed that maybe he was just exhausted the night before, which is why he didn't wake up at the time he usually did.

You felt guilty, your head was lowered as you fiddled with your fingers. Because you missed him so much, you didn't stop to think that maybe he was just tired, that's why he woke up late. You were so elated with the idea of spending the whole day with him, forgetting that everything was just an assumption you had made.

A few tears dripped down your face as you made your way back to the kitchen, deciding on eating by yourself already. He's already late, he wouldn't bother to eat breakfast with me right now. Maybe a quick bite, and that's it. You frowned at the thought.

You were right though. After a few minutes, Kageyama came out of your room, dressed in his jersey, bag on his shoulder as he went to the kitchen and had a bite or two, before giving you a quick kiss and heading off to training.

You sighed as you finished your breakfast. You have nothing to do all day. After all, you called in sick to work thinking that your boyfriend would be spending the day with you.

“Stupid,” You whispered to yourself as you washed the dishes.

12PM in the afternoon and you were already tired, huh. You get your things ready and decide to take a shower to at least relieve a bit of your stress.

As you step in the bathroom, you immediately notice a note stuck onto the mirror, and grab it at lightning speed.

I'm sorry for being so busy lately, love. I promise I'll make it up to you. Hold on for a little while longer. I love you.

- Tobio

You smile slightly because you knew Tobio sincerely wrote this with every ounce of longing he had for you.

“I'll be waiting,” You mumbled.

-

You waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

Where was he? This was the only day of the week where you get off work extra early, and it was also the only day where he could actually come home early from training.

So where was this boyfriend of yours?

“Late again, Tobio,” You whispered as you reached for a glass of wine. Checking the time on your phone, it was 7:30PM, and he was already 30 minutes late. You settled on waiting for him a bit longer.

For a little while longer, love.

-

You struggled to find the keys of the house in your purse. 4 hours. He made you wait 4 hours and didn't have the decency to show up. What the hell was that?

You felt utterly embarrassed. As you left the restaurant—being the only customer left—you could barely hold yourself together as the waiters looked at you with pitiful eyes. You even nearly snapped at the cab driver for asking if you got stood up, judging from the look on your face. It was truly the worst, most embarrassing night of your life.

Finally finding the key, you tried to unlock the door.

Except you didn't have to try. The door was unlocked.

“Is he actually here?” You muttered in disbelief.

You entered the house and believe it or not, there on the couch, sat your boyfriend with the remote on his hands, watching a tv show.

Soon, he noticed you and the scowl on your face. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hey, it's 11PM. Where have you been? I came home an hour ago,” he said nonchalantly.

“An hour?” You questioned. No calls? No texts? Did he really forget that he had a date?

“Yeah, I was called in to film an endorsement after train-” He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the information and brought the pieces together. He eyed you from head to toe as he realized what he had done.

“Y/N, I'm s-so s-sorry,” He stuttered, eyes filled with guilt and regret.

You smiled as the tears brimming in your eyes finally fell down like waterfalls. “Yeah, well sorry's not gonna cover for it right now, Tobio,” You answered in a low voice, walking past him, avoiding eye contact as you went into the bedroom.

You've had just about enough of it.

As you grabbed a bag out of the closet, Tobio immediately followed you into the room.

“Love, what are you doing?” He asked, eyes widened in absolute horror as he saw you packing away your clothes.

“I've had enough, Kageyama,” He froze as he heard you utter those words. It was his first time hearing you solely call him by his last name.

As quickly as he can, he snatched the bag away from you, making you glare at him in the process, but he wasn't backing down.

“We can talk about this. This was just one time. I swear, love, I will neve-” Once again, he stopped mid-sentence as he saw the love of his life break down in front of his very eyes.

And it was because of him.

“Just shut the fuck up, Tobio!” You cried angrily. He tried to come closer but you just backed away.

“You'll never what? Never do it again?” You scoffed. “That's not the fucking point, Tobio. The point is I'm so fed up with the way things are with us now!”

“I wait for you when you're late. I understand when you have to leave for training. I hold myself together when I see women trying to get a hold of you. I always prepare dinner for you, in case you're hungry when you get home,” You pause for a brief moment, holding your head up high for your eyes to meet his.

“But at the same I'm worried that you might be overworking yourself. I'm crushed that we don't get to spend much time together. I'm furious as jealousy eats me away. I'm heartbroken when I go to sleep, and wake up without seeing you beside me,” You finished as you finally lowered your head. You couldn't bear to see the look on his face. That look of regret, guilt, sadness, and anger he had. Hid fists were clenched as tears were now rolling down his cheeks as well.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He whispered, barely audible but you still manage to hear it.

“Because you were busy, you were always busy,” You answered. You're startled as Kageyama suddenly hugged you tight, the sincerity of his feelings overwhelming yours. He kept saying sorry over and over again, kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and kept promising that he will make it up to you, no matter what.

Eventually, he did.

-----------

- hello! I hope y'all loved reading this<3 it's my first time writing for haikyuu!!

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Sun 10 Mar

It's been a big week lads. We've been on some emotional journeys together. The stunt podcast was a shock in a number of ways, it was unpleasant and difficult to process, and it was also the death of real hopes that had grown over the course of the last year that certain things might have changed in big ways. But even without that, as wonderful as it is that Louis' song is out and doing well, there's a letdown that comes after a much anticipated event comes to pass that's very real. And like, that song is AMAZING, I truly can't believe how good, but it's also rough, it's intense and potentially triggering or at the very least kinda sad okay? A hard thing to be listening to a lot in a row and I know many of us are doing that. Let alone mercury going gatorade! So really, it's not surprising to me that I'm seeing so much meanness and pessimism and crankiness out there, but it is a bummer. We, as a fandom, are stressed and tired and maybe a little sad, and that's okay, but let's name it and try to take it easy on each other? Obviously you don't have to listen to me but I'm begging you, turn off anon for a bit, definitely please stop picking fights with other fans if you're doing that for any reason at all, just give it a few days and see how you feel, maybe reread some favorite fluffy fics or whatever makes you feel happy? Can we start some friendly memes or something?

Or watch Liam's ig live! I challenge you to find me something more charming than Liam being driven around a Formula One racetrack, what a total delight, I absolutely defy you not to smile back at that crinkly eyed puppy even once, it can't be done! He's hanging out with racers in Hong Kong, and tested out some kind of twitter thing to support the drivers, requesting that followers tweet a hashtag, then a different one. It was late in the night in many places but that didn't stop his tag from trending, THE IMPACT Y'ALL. Naomi Campbell is also there and the tabs report they declined to be photographed together but published all kinds of wild claims anyway.

We learned that the Two Of Us music video (the main one that is, we are really spoiled for videos) will be out in late March so that's something to look forward to. LTHQ is posting about streaming parties and Louis is appreciating fan efforts but also reminders are circulating that we, the fans, aren't solely responsible for taking this song to the top, and in fact cannot do it all by ourselves. Like Louis always says, it's a team effort, as in, not all up to us. His team is doing their part right now, and it might take a minute, but so far things are going just fine, so by all means stream but again, be gentle with yourselves. I really think he's gonna win this time, but it won't happen overnight.

So many Louis interviews! He talks about seeing Niall live, playing his songs for the boys, going grey, olives, in a moment of almost Niall-like candor he lays out his schedule for the year (TOU, a more fun single in the summer, maybe another single, then album in the fall and tour soon after), he posted a pic from the Two Of Us show, and liked a post about some "alphaomega" video [no comment no comment no comment] 🙊🙊

Meanwhile, Niall tweeted about sports.

[doodlelolly0910]

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: So I have been reliably informed that I am cruel and evil for this chapter sooooooo sorry? Lol. Some very big shifts happen here, but I won't say much more because I don't want to give too much away for this chapter or the chapters this affects in the future. You'll have to read and see ;) An especially large thank you this week to @kmomof4 who was very patient and efficient with this chapter, which made it possible for this to be posted on time (I had a really rough week lol) and of course thank you to @courtorderedcake because she's amazing, this art is amazing, and I'm just in awe of her period. *insert Wayne and Garth WE'RE NOT WORTHY bowing here* lol. Y'all are fabulous for all the reviews and favorites and reblogs and even just for reading this. I appreciate each and every one of you. Alrighty, on with the show, I hope you guys like it!

Chapter 13

Despite her better judgement, and the severity of the situation, Emma found herself managing Will Scarlett’s presence quite tolerantly. He reminded her of an annoying little brother, eating her sunflower seeds and spitting them all over himself, fiddling with her radio, trying to go through her console and glove box, making her thankful she’d locked the latter. It held her badge and gun in case of emergency.

“Take another left over here.” He pointed to an upcoming side street, happily bobbing his head to the music and chomping on another handful of seeds. Emma wrinkled her nose as he noisily slobbered shells into an empty convenience store cup.

“Can you not do that? It’s distracting. And disgusting,” she said, turning down the street he’d pointed out. She was glad she'd called Jefferson before they left and let him know she was waiting on Gold because this journey was taking much longer than she thought it would.

“Aw. Have I offended the princess’s delicate sensibilities?” he asked, grinning and still chewing on the seeds in his mouth. “Turn right up here.”

“Where are you even taking me?” Emma asked, complying with his instruction once more.

“Don’t trust me, love? I thought I had an honest face,” he grinned, a black bit of seed lodged in between his second and third upper teeth.  Emma rolled her eyes, and tightened her grip along the steering wheel. Much as she tolerated Will Scarlett, he was still a criminal leading her to a dangerous man in an unknown location. That, and he was infuriating.

“Can’t you just give a single straight answer?” she grumbled and suddenly, she recognized their surroundings. The smell of the sea permeated the vehicle, which was a welcomed break from the floral torture she’d been under for the last day solid, and she took a deep breath. “The docks, huh? I still have my knife if you’re trying to dump a body.” Will snorted.

“Hook would have more than me balls for somethin’ like that. And it’s broad daylight, if ya haven’t noticed,” he pointed out, motioning around them as the car came to a stop. “Not exactly prime conditions for corpse dumpin’.” With a final grin and a waggle of his ridiculous eyebrows, he opened the door and slipped from the vehicle like a cat. Emma was slower to respond, taking in her surroundings and a deep breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She exhaled slowly, trying to get her bearings, when her breath cut off short at the sight waiting for her.

Will was making his way towards a small pier where a figure stood staring out over the water. She knew even from behind that it was Killian Jones. His slightly overlong hair moved with the seaspray, his good hand tucked into the pocket of his leather jacket. His weight was supported on one leg, giving him a slight lean, his hook swinging freely at his side. It was exactly like the very first vision Milah had shown her of him. This must be something he did often, and she wondered briefly why he would summon her to a place that obviously meant a lot to him. Will approached him, saying something that she couldn’t hear, and Hook turned to acknowledge the man before setting his sights on her. He said something back, slipping his hand from his pocket and clapping Will on the shoulder but keeping his gaze firmly locked on hers. Shaking her hands out over her lap, she reached for the door handle and got out.

She leaned against the open door as he walked over to her, expression near unreadable, but somehow lighter than anything she’d seen on his face before. As he got closer, his eyes seemed to hold a note of apology and relief, which surprised her. He did throw her out, after all, dismissing her admissions and fears immediately. She couldn’t say without a second thought, because, well, here she was.

“Have you met with Gold yet?” he asked, coming to a stop just on the other side of the barrier the door provided. She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Good to see you again, too. And, yeah, I did,” she said, motioning to the bruise forming on her cheek and the split in her lip where the man in question had struck her. The anger that she was used to seeing in Hook’s eyes flashed there once again and he clenched his jaw making her blink at him in bewilderment. “I’m still in one piece, though, so I mean, it could be worse,” she mumbled, unsure of why she felt the need to reassure him of her well being.

“Aye. It could. Maybe you are a fool after all, Swan,” he said tersely, as if he were scolding a child. This ignited the rage in her belly all over again.

“Okay,” she said, slapping her hands on the top of her door. “Nice to see you again. I’m leaving.” She made to get back in the driver’s seat.

“No, no, wait, love, wait,” he rushed forward, hand and prosthetic held up to stop her. She paused, her lips pursed into a tight line.

Just listen, Milah murmured softly and Emma squeezed her eyes shut at the sound, shaking her head lightly. She blinked them open and scanned the area again, finding Will still patiently waiting on the dock he'd approached Hook on, clearly giving them space. She turned her attention back to Hook, his eyes searching her features as if trying to read her.

“I know you're upset with me,” he began and Emma snorted.

“Understatement,” she scoffed and a surge of jasmine around her made her bite her tongue against further barbs. The last thing she needed was for Milah and Hook to be battling for her attention.

“I know, and I called you here because perhaps I was a little hasty in enforcing your departure.” He nearly winced at the words, looking down and fiddling with his prosthetic with his good hand, and Emma found herself mildly amused by his discomfort. Apology did not seem to be his strong suit.

“So you regret missing an opportunity to recover your mother's ring,” she replied, irritation overriding her amusement. “Anything else?”

His eyes snapped up to hers with a force that almost had her stumbling backwards, a curious intensity to them that almost made the blue brighter and darker at the same time.

“I never told you that was my mother's ring,” he said, his tone low and even. Emma almost swallowed her tongue, fully expecting him to lash out again.

“I- I- uh- you didn't? I'm sure you did because, I mean, how else would I know that?” she tittered nervously, scooting closer to the interior of the car in order to make a quick escape if needed.

Silence descended between them and his eyes settled into a saddened expression, his brow furrowing slightly.

“No, love, I didn't. I haven't spoken of my mother in quite a long time. And the last people I spoke about her with are long gone.” He shifted towards her carefully, his movements slow and obvious, as if she was a wild cornered animal. She felt like one, so it was appropriate.

“Why am I here, Hook?” she said in a cracked voice, much higher than she would have liked it to be. He was standing practically up against the door now, his expression more sincere than anything she'd seen from him yet. There was a glimmer of vulnerability in the depths of his pupils that she was sure he didn't let free often and her heart clenched in her chest at the thought of him letting that side open to her. In this moment, she knew she was dealing with Killian Jones, not Hook.

“I want to help you,” he said with a steady certainty. “Gold is… well, you're in over your head. I'd like to help get you out of this predicament.”

“I can take care of myself,” she ground out. “I'm not a damsel in distress.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Swan,” he said, the mirth returning to his voice. He smirked and rocked back on his heels with a single ridiculously arched eyebrow. “But it would be bad form to leave a lady in distress when I have the power to ease her troubles.” He chuckled a little. “That's something Liam would have said. He was a navy man. Believed in all things done in ‘good form’.” He made air quotes with his hand and hook, eyes glazing in memory, and Emma couldn't help but soften as he spoke of his brother. His gaze came up to meet hers again, raw and honest. “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she gauged his expression. Strangely, she found no judgment or malice there this time. Just something that looked an awful lot like hope. She didn't trust her voice, she she offered him a simple wide eyed nod. He smiled, a soft little thing that made him look years younger and infinitely more handsome. Emma blinked a few times against that thought and drew her brows together in confusion. She had a job to do, she reminded herself. No time to be distracted by handsome criminals.

But distracted she was when his good hand came unexpectedly to rest on top of hers, turning it to grasp her fingers, his skin warm and callused on hers. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch and she stared at him, trying to get a read on what was going on.

“I don't know who you are, Emma Swan, or what's happening here, but I think I want to,” he said earnestly and Emma's heartbeat went from moderately fast to breakneck speed, her grip involuntarily tightening on his hand. He smirked at the movement, his tongue coming out to trace over his lips before lifting her fingers to them and placing a kiss on the back of her hand and releasing it easily. Emma didn't know what to do, what to say.

A shrill ringing sound coming from the console inside her car broke the tension and she darted her eyes to the interior.

“I better…” she trailed off, pointing awkwardly into the vehicle before slipping into it and retrieving the phone.

The words UNKNOWN NUMBER flashed across her screen. Emma felt a chill run through her and she fought not to shiver, knowing she was still under Hook's scrutiny.

“Swan,” she answered, a little proud of how businesslike and even her tone was.

“Neverland Shipping Warehouse,” Gold's voice said through the line, clipped and straight to the point. Emma was surprised to hear him on the line, rather than Zelena or another of his goons. “I've sent the address to your phone. There is a crate inside that I need you to get into. It is labelled with a large red X. You have four hours. Do not disappoint me again,” he said coldly and hung up before she could say another word.

DANGEROUS, Milah's voice shrieked out in her head, and Emma frowned deeply, ignoring her and looking down to the phone to confirm she received the information. Once she had, she looked up to see Killian Jones watching her with quiet concern, his hand on her still open door.

“Gold's people, I presume?” he said, his eyes darkening again.

“Ah, the man himself, actually,” she said and Killian looked so surprised it bordered on alarm. “I have to go. Duty calls.” She gave him an apologetic look, then glanced towards the docks to see Will Scarlett heading back in their direction.

She reached for her door, fully intending on making her escape (and making Scarlett Hook's problem), but she was halted by Hook's hand pulling the door gently, but firmly back to him. A puzzled look crossed her face and she jerked her head up to meet Hook's gaze.

“This isn't right, love. I don't think it's wise that you go,” he said, caution painted in every word.

STAY, DANGER, Milah repeated.

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes at the both of them, pulling the door back to her and out of his grip, shutting it with only a little more force than strictly necessary. She rolled her window down to about halfway and smiled up at him, his face still a mask of stony concern.

“Swan, you're playing with fire here,” he cautioned again.

“Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten burned.” She shrugged and started her little yellow bug, the engine puttering to life. “I'll be in touch.”

As she pulled away with one last reassuring smile, she saw Hook motion sharply for Will Scarlett to get in the black SUV that was parked by a small building. He would get over it. She had to focus on Gold. Then she could worry about him.

The drive was short, thankfully for her nerves. She shot Jefferson a quick text to update him on her location and the plan, and he confirmed it with the usual caution to be safe that made her roll her eyes again. She had more people seemingly concerned for her well being now than she'd had in her whole life.

When she pulled up to the abandoned looking metal building that matched the address Gold had sent her, she was pretty damn sure that Hook and Gold must certainly have the monopoly on the real estate market for places that looked like they'd be a good spot to hide a body.  The building looked like it hadn't been used in at least a decade. It was the last one standing on the block that was surrounded by dilapidated, crumbling structures, buildings that were shadows of their former selves and that should have been set for demolition years ago. A general unease set into the pit of her belly.

Dangerous, Milah murmured in her head again, the sound a feeble plea. Emma supposed she was getting as tired of saying it as she was hearing it. She ground her teeth together. She knew it was dangerous. She had no other choice.

She took a deep breath and pulled her door open, her senses on high alert and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. The jasmine scent surrounded her still as she moved towards the warehouse, strangely giving Emma comfort that she wasn't alone, even though Milah was adamantly unsupportive of this endeavor.  She scanned the area, making sure no one was watching as she made her way to the door and tried the handle.

Much to her surprise, it wasn't even locked. The door was heavy though and it took several pulls before the rusty old thing swung open on a loud groan that had Emma's heart dropping to her stomach. She quickly looked around as she darted inside, making sure the noise hadn't given her away. She still saw no one in the vicinity and she wondered briefly what was so important and difficult to obtain at this location. She shrugged it off. If this was the way to get back into Gold's good graces, so be it.

The room she found herself in was large and mostly empty, a few empty crates and pieces of abandoned, unstable furniture littering the area. The door shut heavily behind her, making her wince once more. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. But none of that mattered when she spied her prize.

A wooden box sat in the center of the room, not overly large in size, but conspicuous all the same as it looked like it had been recently placed there. The large, spray painted red X on the outside of the box told her she was in the right place.

Emma, leave now, danger, Milah said firmly, her accented voice full of worry, making Emma pause in her tracks. The spirit had never called her by name before and a chill went down her spine.

“I can't, Milah, I have to see this through,” she said, her tone acknowledging the regret she felt in the pit of her stomach.

As she approached the box, one of the corners appeared to be wedged up, giving Emma her in. This was turning out to be far smoother than she thought it would be, which put her even more on alert, especially with the steady warnings her ghostly companion had been offering (not to mention how the last time something was going her way went). She screwed her courage to the sticking place and put her gloved hands on the lid, prying it open. The box was filled with styrofoam peanuts, a paper that looked like a packing slip at first glance sitting on top. She picked it up and unfolded it to read and her blood immediately froze in her veins.

One is not useless if they can be used as an example, dearie.

It was then she noticed the red wire hanging limply from the back end of the lid, most likely separated from whatever it was connected to when she lifted the wooden top. Frantically she shoved the packing peanuts out of the way until she laid her eyes on the something she definitely hadn't been prepared to see.

Several gray blocks of a clay like substance sat surrounding a clock face, a motherboard and wires connecting them all together wedged underneath. She looked at the digital numbers in the center and her adrenaline spiked immediately.

00:12

00:11

00:10

00:09

EMMA RUN, Milah screamed out in her head and she didn't have to be told twice. The paper fluttered to the floor and she scrambled to turn around, her feet carrying her as fast as they could back to the door she came through. The heavy metal door was even harder to open from the inside. She struggled, pulling and yanking on the handle so hard she was almost afraid she was going to pull it off. In one last effort, Emma planted her foot against the door frame and tugged as hard as she could, the groan from the hinges giving way like music to her ears. She stumbled backwards with the force of opening it but quickly righted herself and ran through the door to freedom.

A deafening boom rang out behind her the instant her feet hit the packed dirt outside the door, heat and debris assaulting her back, and then she was falling. She could hear nothing except a high pitched ringing in her ears as her world turned on its axis. Her body rolled midair with the force of the explosion, the sky coming into view above her, flames licking at her peripheries, and her head hit the ground with a crack she couldn't hear in the same spot she had been struck before. She felt immediately ill, her vision blackening at the edges.

Through her haze, she registered two sets of legs running in her direction, but she couldn't see who they belonged to through her rapidly darkening sight.

She must have been going crazy after all,  because the last thing she thought she saw before losing consciousness completely was the profile of her mother's face, the song that had comforted her for years echoing over the ringing in her head.

[onestowatch]

Hollyy Dives Headfirst Into Heartache on ‘Miss The Feeling’ [Q&A]

Photo By: Tess Graham

Chicago alt-soul band Hollyy warms our hearts with their passionate vocals and retro-inspired grooves in their latest EP Miss The Feeling. The release is a skillful blend of something old and something new, embodying a vibrant Memphis soul sound full of heartache and visceral emotion that cannot help but transmit that feeling out into the world for others to see, hear, and feel. Although this isn't the band's first EP, Miss the Feeling is their unyielding introduction into a world that needs unapologetically honest music.

Formed in summer 2018, Hollyy consists of Tanner Bednar (vocals), Brandon Couture (guitar), Peter Giere (keyboard), Rafe Soto (drums), and Dominic Zeier (bass). Ones To Watch was able to chat with the band about Miss The Feeling's creation process amid a global pandemic.

Ones to Watch: With this being the first EP the band has released since your debut "Letters From Lawndale," what are some things you all have learned about the production and creative process that made this an easier release?

Tanner: I think we've mostly just all grown as musicians and songwriters during that span between projects, which is great. We've also changed our process quite a bit for the better. Rafe has really souped-up our basement studio into a magic music-making space, which we love and hold super dear to us. This EP was also the first time we worked with a producer, and it was truly the most incredible experience. We owe a lot to our friend/producer Nick Boyd for this work.

Brandon: This EP was a much more collaborative songwriting process than our first EP as Holly,. We all contributed songs and helped shape each other's ideas. Once someone brings an idea forward, it becomes all of ours, and we all put in a lot of care to make each song the best we can make it. It takes a willingness to feel exposed and accepting of how someone else is going to hear what you write.

Rafael: I think we've all learned a thing or two about collaboration and how we can change certain aspects of a song and get something brand new out of it that plays to our strengths.

This EP is full of retro, warm tones that still touch on themes and feelings of loneliness, lost love, and more. To you, what is this EP about?

Brandon: It's a reflection on times past that you once longed for and trying to find your way forward.

Tanner: Miss the Feeling is kind of a perfect literary send-off for acknowledging you've been stuck in a rut for a while as well as just not feeling yourself and getting back to that point of being internally content again. It could translate to human relationships or emotional struggles not involving human relationships, and I like that.

Rafael: I agree with Brandon. It's about being able to let go of moments in your life.

What was your favorite song from the EP? Why?

Tanner: I love all my children equally hehe. But I have found that rocking out to the end of Turn it Around has been rather therapeutic during quarantine. So I guess that??

Brandon: Beach is one of my favorites to play live, we've been playing it back to back with Miss the Feeling, and it's really fun.

Rafe: I also enjoy the miss the feeling/beach medley because it's super fun to play.

Pete: Like anything, it depends on the mood. The ending of "Beach" has a very dreamy/jazzy vibe and has been fun to expand and jam on musical ideas.

How do you feel Hollyy has evolved not only as a band during the pandemic, not only in regards to your sound but overall?

Brandon: This time has really affected my writing for sure. This year has been challenging on many people, and the future is so uncertain for so many. People need something to look forward to, and I've found myself trying to write about that pain and confusion of not knowing which way forward is.

Rafael: I think it's helped us really streamline our process and figure out what we absolutely have to do in person and the things we can collaborate remotely on. Our writing process usually takes place in person but it has found its way to a million different messaging and document apps, I think this gives us the chance to reflect multiple on what we're writing.

What have been the biggest struggles of trying to record this EP during a pandemic?

Brandon: Luckily, we finished a lot of the recording for this project before the lockdown, but it's forced us to find other ways to push our new music while not having the ability to promote it live. It's also changed how we've had to work on our next project, moving to virtual meetings and writing from our respective homes.

Tanner: Yeah, it's honestly been super cool to see how we've adapted to essentially being a virtual rock band these past seven months while still being very efficient and productive with our tunes, writing, and releases. Personally, I have really enjoyed the challenge of needing to get creative to find different outlets of marketing and content pushing during the Covid-era, and we have a super supportive and talented team that helps us out along the way as well, so that's been great.

What would be a dream collab or feature for a future Hollyy track?

Tanner: We're ready to get down in the writing trenches with Stevie Wonder or Anderson .Paak at ANY point!

Brandon: Kevin Parker from Tame Impala would be incredible, as would the Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio.

Rafael: Probably Gwenno or Dex Romweber.

Pete: I think we've talked about having a rapper put down a verse on a song before. I've been listening to a lot of Action Bronson lately, so I would have to put him.

The EP not only goes on a sonic journey but a visually artistic one as well. In all the music videos, fans have seen a mysterious driver in a vintage car driving into the sunset and towards an unknown destination. Who is the artist, and how did this concept come to be? Is there a deeper meaning, or was it just something the band thought looked cool?

Brandon: The artwork is meant to elude themes of escapism and finding your own way forward, which I think are some of the more subtle themes in our music. When I drive alone, I often find myself having intense internal conversations with myself, often to reflect on something that might be bothering me.

Tanner: Yeah, the artwork is definitely super purposeful with some underlying meanings and symbolism, and that's something that I'm glad came together for us in the end, and people are catching on to and deriving their own ideas of what it may mean. We had talked about using the car and the geographic locations to help depict escaping and longing for new and better days. We played with the concept of colors and backdrop settings to allude to what lyric meanings may be included in that single as well. All in all, our friends Lucas and Ariel from Brazil (two super talented artists, by the way) helped us out with these images, and we're super happy we got to use our friends' work for these.

In a time when touring and live shows are on pause, what does Hollyy plan to do from here? Live stream concerts? Do y'all plan on pulling a Flaming Lips move and encourage people to go to shows in bubbles?

Brandon: Giant bubbles would be incredibly fun! We've been finding ways to get together, make some videos and live stream, and certainly plan on continuing, but our big focus now has been writing and working on the next project. The one benefit to the pandemic is it's given us a lot more time to write, and we have a good number of songs that have piled up now. It's helped give us something to look forward to and work towards.

Tanner: Yes, I think nothing says giant bubble mosh pit quite like the intro to Miss the Feeling. I would love to try that out one day. But to piggyback off of Brandon, we're absolutely just enjoying the writing process right now, staying safe + healthy, and looking forward to creating more and more music with each other while we're stuck in the dystopian universe. One day we'll play a normal, carefree live show again :)

Who are some "Ones To Watch" you would recommend people to check out?

Brandon: Chicago is an incredible hub for local bands. Ratboys, Divino Nino, and Sen Morimoto are some really incredible artists that have been crushing it lately.

Tanner: I think some of these artists are going to start/continue to make some noise over the next year: Neal Francis, Fat Night, MICHELLE, and Qari.

Rafael: Lately, I've just been listening to a ton of roots reggae, so checkout Desmond Dekker. I am stoked about the new Fuzz album though.

Pete: I think right now, everyone should check out Wyatt Waddell. He has an absolutely incredible mix of RnB, soul, and hip-hop to his sound. He's also from Chicago, so that helps too!