#but alls to say that if we only ever see them when Martin's putting on the charm and soothing egos
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2024 China Grand Prix Race Analysis
Here is my full analysis of the 2024 Chinese Grand prix. I already covered the sprint in a separate post here.
The important thing to keep in mind about this weekend is that the Chinese track was a very unique surface. It caused a lot of unusual grip problems for many of the top teams. I think as a whole that this race saw some outlier results as far as car behavior goes.
Table of Contents
Stake
- Zhou
- Valtteri
Ferrari
- Start
- Charles: his race, vs Lando
- Carlos
- Data Analysis
Mclaren
- Lando
- Oscar
- Data Analysis
Penalties
- Logan
- Kevin
- Daniel
- Lance
VCARB
Aston Martin
Red Bull
- Checo
Final Thoughts
Stake
Zhou
I usually start these with Ferrari. However this is a special occasion. So we are starting the analysis by celebrating Zhou and his performance this weekend.
This was the first Chinese Grand Prix in Formula 1 history with a Chinese driver racing on track. Zhou Guanyu made history and considering the car he's in he gave a good performance for the home crowd. Between qualifying 10th in the sprint, making some pretty good overtakes during the race, and carrying his team after Valtteri's DNF it was a pretty good weekend all around.
It was so nice to see all of the home support for Zhou. He was given an honorary spot at parc fermé after the race, and I am so glad they did something special to highlight this moment for him and the country he is representing in F1.
Zhou driving this weekend really was the highlight. This was only ever going to happen once in F1. Glad I was here to see it.
Valtteri unfortunately suffered a power unit failure and had to retire from the race. No damage to the car. This did bring out the yellow flag and a VSC. And when the marshals were unable to roll the car off the track quickly enough it upgraded to a full safety car(don’t worry we will be coming back to this)
He was looking pretty good in the car until that point, actually getting close to the points. I think we might see Stake in the points this year if they ever get their pit stops under control.
Ferrari
Ferrari's race was probably the weakest for the team so far this season. It wasn't really a surprise though. The cooler temperatures and inconsistent track surface were not ideal for the SF24.
Charles started in P6 and finished P4, Carlos started P7 and finished P5.
I do consider this not to be indicative of any downward trend for Ferrari. It was pretty predictable and it did not reveal any issues in the SF-24 we weren't already aware of (tyre warming)
Ferrari did say that they sacrificed more in qualifying in favor of a better race setup. And I don't think this was necessarily a bad idea. It's impossible to say if a different setup might have put them higher and if they have been able to defend with that setup. Going for a more race focused setup and relying on the better tyre deg to be able to allow for overtaking is a pretty good plan, especially if they didn't think they could get much more out of qualifying.
This did mean that we got to see some proper overtakes in the SF-24 from Charles and that is something we just haven't seen a lot of this season so far. So seeing how it handles in that regard was good.
So the big question is, why did Ferrari suddenly end up behind a Mclaren when Ferrari have been easily beating them all season?
Well there are a few factors:
- Ferrari struggled this weekend with grip and failed to find the best balance in the car to maximize top speeds. They did sacrifice some downforce in favor of speed during the race but I don't think it was enough. It didn't do enough to help the top speeds and it sacrificed grip so we ended up a weird middle ground that didn't optimize either problem. This track surface really made it so hard to figure out the right direction for setup.
- Mclaren(Lando) were stronger than expected. Lando was really the one pulling performance out of that car.
I will point out some key areas on this in the data analysis section as well.
Race Start
The most notable thing about Ferrari’s race was the start, when Carlos compromised his and Charles’ start by attacking right into turn 1. This forced Charles to have to defend(something he should not have to do right off the race start from his own teammate who started behind) and this resulted in them both immediately losing a place to Russell. This was a place they both had to fight to make up.
Again, this kind of thing isn’t good when compromising the results for the whole team is the result.
Footage Analysis
Just so we are clear about who is responsible for the loss of placement I want to show the footage from this start. This is from Carlos' driver cam footage as it most clearly shows what happened.
Charles starts P6 with Carlos behind him in P7. George is behind them in P8.
Into turn 1 Charles has the inside line, very clearly. Carlos has the outside line into the turn, this is fine. Charles is also clearly ahead.
Carlos pushes inside more, putting pressure on Charles. Notice how much closer Carlos got and how much space he left on the outside(another vulnerability he left open)
Charles pushes Carlos back(to defend which he has to do if attacked especially into a crowded corner like that a the race start)
Charles then took full position in front of Carlos, and this allowed George to slip past both of them on the inside line.
Because Carlos forced Charles to defend George was able to take that inside line that Charles had and passed both of them, dropping Charles and Carlos down a place.
Charles cannot defend both the outside and inside line on his own. He defended against the car that put pressure on him first. His teammate should not be the main one he has to defend team track position against.
Carlos compromised Charles' ability to defend position against George(which is the priority, he's on a rival team that is more important than racing between teammates)
Again if he is attacked Charles has to defend, why would he give up the place to the teammate he was faster than? Nothing would have happened if Carlos hadn’t pulled this move. Charles would have kept George behind and they might have been able to overtake earlier in the race and gain one more position, because they lost a full position to George this early they had to take that back before they could make progress climbing further up the field.
Carlos
This was Carlos' weakest performance so far this year. He compromised the race start for himself and Ferrari causing them both to lose placement immediately. Then he was unable to overtake. The only real overtakes he's pulled off were on cars with seriously compromised brakes.
He struggled with grip and tyres more than Charles. They both had issues in this area but it was more noticeable in his performance.
Charles finished 10.36 seconds ahead of his teammate who was directly behind him in the final 13 laps this race. And that gap can be explained by the fact Carlos was stuck behind Fernando for more laps(as well as a pit stop), however once he got into clean air he did not make up any time at all, his pace didn’t gain on Charles at all with the clean air. A gap in pace that big between teammates is concerning(at least for Carlos) It may be due to his personal choice of setup, or tyre management, or grip in the track. Given that he had more issues with grip on this track I am thinking that was a factor. He lost most of his time on turns 1, 5, 7, 8, and 10.
Edit: also Carlos did pit under normal conditions while Charles pitted under the safety car, this saved Charles some time(aprox 7-8 seconds), however the main point stands that Carlos did not make any progress closing the gap between them.
Charles
Charles' overtakes climbing up the field really saved Ferrari's race. Starting off by losing a position he climbed up places pulling some really clean overtakes and also helping his teammate through.
It was great to see him doing some overtaking in this car, he hasn't been in the position to do much of that due to track position etc in previous races. SF-24 looked good on that front in his hands.
Charles mentioned the lack of speed on straights, and this is due to the fact he wasn't able to gain on Lando in those sections(when he should have) this is due to the less than optimal downforce balance Ferrari went with this weekend(again I don't this is anything terribly concerning, this was a hard track to get that right on)
Overall Charles ran a really good race, obviously not the results he wanted but he extremely optimistic about the upgrades and that they will address some of the current limitations of the SF-24.
Data Analysis
I want to compare Charles and Lando's pace to highlight where Mclaren had the edge on Ferrari in this race. Charles was the fastest Ferrari this weekend and Lando was the fastest Mclaren.
First here is a breakdown of the fastest lap both driver's set.
Lando's straight line speed was really a big factor in keeping him ahead. That plus the fact he was consistently strong in sector 2.
And here is a look at the overall race pace between the two.
Ignore the mess in the middle, that curve is just correcting a slope for the outlier laps due to yellow flag and safety car conditions. It's not important here.
Lando had the edge on Charles almost the entire race. Until the end on the old hards.
What is important is that Lando had the pace on the new hards. Charles didn’t have the time to catch Lando once he managed to gain the places. He probably would have without the yellow flags and if track placement was better. The point being that Ferrari’s pace was off this weekend but it wasn’t as bad as it looked on track, there were other factors at play.
I think this result was a combination of a sub-optimal setup for this track on Ferrari's part on top of the fact this wasn't Ferrari’s strongest track, and Mclaren getting things right for Lando. Also some fairly solid driving from Lando.
Now I want to compare Charles' and Carlos' fastest laps and pace. This was the biggest gap in performance we've seen so far this year between the two Ferraris. Some of that I will attribute to the fact this track was weird as far as track surface goes, but such a big difference between teammates like this means it wasn't just the car or the track surface. While both were not great with grip or setup this weekend one outperformed the other by a decent margin.
Here is a look at Charles' and Carlos' fastest laps.
Charles having better straight line speed consistently and putting in a strong sector three is what put him ahead of Carlos and kept him there for the entire race.
Now here is the full race pace.
Again remember to ignore the weird lines in the middle that is just the graphing tool not able to create a good slope for all the safety car laps.
But you can see that Charles' pace was better the entire race, on both the medium and the hard tyres.
I don't think there was a lot more to get out of this weekend for Ferrari. It's possible managing the pits a little differently would have gotten Charles up to third but with the yellow flag chaos It was really difficult to gauge in real time when the best time to pit was. I think the pit management was good. We can look back and go "oh we could have gained a place here" So I have no issues there.
Hopefully that clears up some questions about Ferrari's overall race and car performance this weekend.
Overall this was still decent points for the constructors’ and we saw some good racing from Charles. I do fully believe we will be seeing Ferrari come back stronger in Miami.
Mclaren
Why was Mclaren, specifically Lando, so strong this weekend?
Well it's unclear.
They have had the clear #3 car so far this season. So I think that it's a combination of this not being a strong track for Ferrari and some conditions that favored their car that put them ahead.
No one, not even Mclaren expected this so I really think it seems like it comes down to this track being better for them than expected and Lando specifically being tuned into the track. Like after practice Lando was not feeling confident(his words) and the team were also not making any promises. I don’t think they were sandbagging, I think this genuinely all came together for them.
Now it’s clear that Lando would have finished P3 behind Checo if it were not for the luck/strategy(a little of both they timed that well, but also had to get lucky with Red Bull timing) with the pits. Red Bull lost track position to Lando when they pitted Checo and they were unable to take it back. If Red Bull had timed their stop better Lando would have been P3 because his pace was not going to catch Checo if he was ahead.
So the P2 is due to some good driving on Lando’s part and Red Bull giving up track position and failing to recover it.
Oscar struggled more on this track. However he wasn't far outside where we've seen him in other races and for Mclaren in general. So he wasn’t under-performing, Lando was over performing. I also want to note that Oscar was slightly damaged during the crash between Lance and Dani, Dani's front wing tapped the rear of his car and there may have been a small amount of damage, important to note as he may have been compromised on pace due to this.
Data Analysis
Comparison of Lando and Checo’s pace
The first half of the race isn’t as important, the graph is very odd in the middle due to all of the outlier laps caused by the yellow flags, so that is not important. What I want to point out is that Lando was on the same pace as Checo(or slightly better) for those first 6 laps after the race started again when all the yellow flags were done, but after that Checo was faster until the end of the race. Not enough to catch Lando, but enough that Lando would not have been able to pass him if he hadn’t had track position.
Now here is a quick look at Lando and Oscar's pace.
There isn't a ton to dissect here, Lando was faster the entire race, by a pretty big margin on the hards especially. Given that a lot of drivers this race had issues managing deg on the hards I think that second stint gap really came down to tyre management, an area where Oscar is still improving.
Here is a look at their fastest laps to really see where Lando was making those bigger gains and where Oscar was struggling.
One thing that I find interesting is that Oscar's fastest lap had a section of DRS, Lando's didn't and Lando was still a full second faster. Just a really solid lap from Lando all around. His strength in sector 2 is what really gave him an edge all race.
Overall this was Mclaren’s best finish, but their strongest weekend overall so far this season is still Australia(because both drivers had a strong finish not just one)
Penalties and Incidents
Welcome to the “everyone gets a penalty!” section of the analysis. This was a mess to unravel. After reviewing the footage and reading the stewards judgements as well as the driver and teams statements I have come to a lot of the same conclusions as the stewards.
The middle of this race was a mess. One yellow flag had just ended before another had to be brought out again.
There were two yellow flags this race, the first after Valtteri DNF'ed and the second due to multiple incidents right after the end of the first yellow flag.
My biggest critique is that the VSC was deployed weirdly late. They seemed about 10 to 20 seconds off in calling for one, and that is concerning. A driver on the side of the track is at risk, so it’s important to make sure a race is slowed immediately.
Logan: overtook under safety car conditions after the VSC was enacted when Valtteri’s power unit failed. Nico was coming out of the pitlane as Logan was coming down the straight, Nico managed to barely exit in front of Logan, but Logan’s faster momentum into turn 1 put him ahead of Nico, and thus he overtook under a yellow flag. Time penalty and license points is an appropriate penalty. I have no idea why his team didn’t get him to slow down more. They said they missed Nico, which I really don't know how. Lack of track observation. This was a failure of the team as much as it was sloppy on Logan's part. I think he would have slowed more had the team actually noticed this sooner.
Kevin: Kevin made contact with Yuki going out of turn 6 right after the race restart. He broke late and made contact with Yuki’s rear wheel and this led to a tyre puncture. Yuki had to retire from the race. Kevin was clearly at fault here, he failed to brake when catching Yuki.
Daniel: Dani was penalized for overtaking under a yellow flag and a safety car. He did this deliberately because Nico took a place from him and he thought it was okay to take that spot back. However he should have waited for the race to resume under green light conditions before doing that. He knows better. What happened with Nico is a little murky as far as why he took a position and why he did not get penalized. I think it's because it was right before the safety car but the FIA reporting on that isn't clear.
Lance: At turn 14 Lance rear ended Daniel after the first safety car had ended they were waiting on Max to restart the race. Max was leading the race and setting the pace until proper racing speeds could resume. Lance is at fault here, it’s that simple. This was seriously negligent driving on his part. I really have no idea what he was doing but no competent driver does this. I will agree with Oscar in the sentiment that everyone was crowded together, only one person crashed into another car in that scenario.
“Yes, but not everyone decided to crash into each other.” - Oscar
Lance argued that it was the concertina effect, and said the stewards should account for that. This is a weak argument at best. The concertina effect is to describe car behavior on track, it isn’t an excuse. Going into a corner a driver who is supposedly one of the best in the world should know how to account for that effect. The fact is that he was going too fast into that corner and not paying attention to the car in front of him.
Furthermore his lack of accountability and attempts to blame everyone but himself for the incident is not a good look. He is very clearly in the wrong here. I think that the penalty he received might be on the gentle side of things as well. Personally I would have liked to see a 20 second time penalty for that, or a grid penalty.
I agree with Dani’s statement that Lance should have only been paying attention to the car in front of him. He clearly wasn’t doing that, or at least not well enough. He appears to be looking at Max and Oscar waiting for Max to restart the race. But that is not where he should have been looking. Additionally Dani pointed out that Lance’s speed there was too much, he put half his car under Dani, that’s not the concertina effect, that is going too fast.
Dani of course is heated, and I feel that for him, he DNF'ed because of the carelessness of another driver through no real fault of his own. I don’t think continuing to argue is good on either side, but he has every right to be mad, especially when the offending driver refuses to admit his fault. Two DNFs in a row is hard for any driver. Lance really cost him a lot.
This isn’t just sloppy driving on Lance’s part, it's outright negligent.
VCARB
Quick note about VCARB. Dani was on track for his best performance all year this weekend. Which makes the DNF all the more upsetting. Yuki struggled with this track all weekend, seems he was not feeling this track or that car. I will say his performance seems like an anomaly compared with the rest of his season so far so I don’t think it’s cause for concern for future races.
VCARB as a team were obviously the worst off this weekend with both driver’s DNF'ing at no fault of their own.
Aston Martin
I already covered Lance, so I want to just quickly mention that Fernando was on fire this weekend. He was defending, and had that car in places it really had no business being. His recovery from the close spin, the defending, the overtakes. He really is just continuing to show his skill and experience, and he overall had one of the best drives of the entire race.
Red Bull
Max won the race, and it was a pretty clean race for him, which is amusing due to the utter chaos happening behind him. First time he has won at this track, so that is another track conquered by Max. Well done Max!
Sergio
Checo’s race wasn’t actually that bad. He was comfortably in P2 until Red Bull gave up track position and he wasn’t able to recover the place from Lando. I already compared the pace between those two. But I think it’s pretty clear that he would have been P2 were it not for the pits. If he has position he has the pace to keep the spot. However he does not have the same pace Max has in the RB20 to take lost positions back if the car ahead has similar pace.
I also want to note here that there were a few corners where it was pointed out that Alpine and Williams were outperforming Ferrari on. However taking a look at the data it wasn’t just Ferrari. Pierre was literally faster than Max in that corner consistently. What this tells me is that something about the unusual grip of this track was not suited to any of the fastest cars. So it’s not a Ferrari problem, or a Red Bull problem, it’s just highlighting an unusual quirk of the track that no one really figured out this weekend.
Here is a fastest lap comparison of Pierre and Max. Obviously Max is the best driver in the best car, so I think this just highlights my point about certain corners especially turns 1, 2, and 3. There was something off there that gave the edge to some midfield cars are far as grip goes. All top cars struggled for speed on those turns and I think it was due to weird track surface conditions.
Final Thoughts
This was the most chaotic race of the season. Hopefully we have a penalty free race next time.
See you when I return with Miami GP analysis!
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First thing all these melanie-martin dynamic fics are doing wrong is glossing over the fact that Martin sold his "masters in parapsychology" lie to an occult youtuber, hellbent on roasting the """respectable"" supernatural capital s Society. Second thing they're doing wrong is glossing over the fact that Martin would absolutely make good on Melanie's baseless accusation of gaslighting.
#i dont buy that they would in any context be bff's#jokes aside it's bc she acts Like That toward martins partner#jokes back on their entire friendship hinges on martins willingness to reinforce Melanie's safety and indulge her petulence for a bit#and in his relationship with jon he demonstrated what his behavior looks like when he's genuinely at ease with a person#and it's messy! it's bitchy! its whiney! i love him for it!#but alls to say that if we only ever see them when Martin's putting on the charm and soothing egos#then thats not friendship#thats the same defense mechanism he employed with Salasa#Melanie King#tma melanie#martin blackwood#tma martin#tma#the magnus archives#my text post
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The Tortured Drivers' Department
— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece
Fortnight
— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)
The Tortured Poets Department
— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys
— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)
Down Bad
— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)
So Long, London
— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)
But Daddy I Love Him
— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)
Fresh Out the Slammer
— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)
Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine)
—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)
Guilty as Sin?
—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)
loml
— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart
— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)
The Alchemy
—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)
Clara Bow
— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)
The Black Dog
— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader
imgonnagetyouback
— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)
The Albatross
— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)
How Did It End?
— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)
So High School
—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)
I Hate It Here
—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)
thanK you aIMee
— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)
I Look in People’s Windows
—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)
The Prophecy
—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)
Cassandra
—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)
Peter
— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)
The Bolter
— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)
Robin
— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)
The Manuscript
—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 masterlist#max verstappen x reader#lance stroll x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#fernando alonso x reader#jenson button x reader#sebastian vettel x reader
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John was being honest when he described himself as dead lazy, and so having a partner and bff like Paul was perfect for him since Paul is such a workaholic and can hardly sit still.
John needed a push, someone who could carefully and patiently nudge and drive him along, or at least light the fire under his butt, because if not he could become listless, lethargic, and stuck. I'd say this was pretty obvious during the 70s.
Paul was perfectly suited for John in this, like in so many other ways too. Paul seemed not at all bothered, but quite comfortable with this position in their relationship, as far as I can tell. I'm thinking back to Paul making his way to John's house in Kenwood, that he'd often have to wake John up, this involving cups of tea or coffee. Maybe they did some writing and playing, maybe they didn't, as Paul said it was his way to get out of London.
Or, how Paul, John, and Ringo (sans George) had to do a Christmas recording, and how Paul, the whole time, was gently and patiently urging John on to just do it.
I think they're a perfect encapsulation of their relationship, these moments and memories caught.
They both gave each other a harmless need to compete, and to accomplish, together. I mean I'm sure there were plenty of times Paul's patience wore thin with John, and I'm sure John was very intentional in needling that, but insofar that I can tell, Paul really did have exceedingly, almost near limitless patience and love for John as both a partner and a friend.
John needed that, he needed someone like Paul, who could truly and unapologetically put up with him, and love him, and still want to work with him every day, day and night.
Even when the band broke up, the divorce finalized, and John was both loving and hating Paul in tandem for the next ten years... Paul was desperate to write with John again, and John was desperate just to write, you see.
PLAYBOY: But wasn’t it clear that John wanted only to work with Yoko?
LINDA: No. I know that Paul was desperate to write with John again. And I know John was desperate to write … desperate. People thought, Well, he’s taking care of Sean, he’s a house-husband and all that, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t write and it drove him crazy. And Paul could have helped him—easily.”
— Linda on John and Paul in the late 70’s and 1980. (X)
While Yoko was definitely driven and career oriented, that didn't necessarily mean she influenced, inspired, or drove John on herself. Not in the way Paul did. I think that's pretty evident, considering he subsumed himself to "house husband", only occasionally baking bread before even that lost his interest, in which he'd keep to lazing about, sleeping hours on end, and mindlessly watching tv.
John was no house husband, the role he took with Yoko was pretty far removed from his potential, even with Cynthia it wasn't that bad.
With Paul, John even thought of writing musicals, and he apparently wasn't even that fond of musicals—but if Paul wanted to do it, like so many other things, then why couldn't John? If John had Paul, then he could do just about anything and everything, really.
“MM: In the early days, did John and Paul really write together?
MARTIN: Yes, but they also wrote separately. “Please Please Me” and “From Me To You” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand” were undoubtedly collaborative efforts. They’d sit down and literally construct the songs together. I can’t remember the first individual songs, although obviously even before I met them they were writing individually, but if you go through them you can hear which of them are John-oriented and which are Paul-oriented. “Yesterday” is obviously Paul, and that’s an interesting point because it was the first time we ever used anyone other than Beatles on a record. There was no one on that record but Paul and a string quartet.
MM: Did you notice them growing apart, developing distinct personalities?
MARTIN: Paul and John had their own identifiable styles: Paul was the syrupy one and John was the hard one. But the rift wasn’t there then. They were really a unit.
MM: Could you tell me what you think of what each one has done individually since the last Beatles record?
MARTIN: I have great admiration for George. He’s done tremendously because it’s a sort of devotion to duty as far as he’s concerned. We forced him into being a loner, I guess … he could never collaborate with anybody in his writing and therefore when the split came he had more strength because he was forced to be alone. He learned an awful lot about producing, studio techniques, and so on, so that he was able … obviously, any one of them had the power - because they had the money - to spend as much time in the recording studio as they liked, and I know that when George made his album he spent six months doing nothing but overdubbing his own voice 16 times and producing his album. To have the tenacity to do that in itself is something of an achievement, but to go along and actually produce good sounds and good music and good lyrics with it is tremendous. I’m full of admiration for that.
I think the other two have suffered by comparison, because they’ve each indulged themselves in their own way. John’s become more obvious in a way … “Power To The People” is a rehash of “Give Peace A Chance,” and it isn’t really very good. It doesn’t have the intensity that John’s capable of. Paul, similarly with his first album … it was nice enough, but very much a home-made affair, and very much a little family affair. I don’t think he ever really rated it as being as important as the stuff he’d done before.
I don’t think Linda is a substitute for John Lennon, any more than Yoko is a substitute for Paul McCartney.”
— George Martin, Melody Maker Interview, 1971. (X)
John was very partner orientated. He needed someone, whether he liked it or not, and he needed them to need him too.
He didn't like being a husband, but he liked having a wife, someone there for him constantly, who loves him and will care for him. John had Cynthia for that, at the start. John had Pete as his partner in crime, bestest of mates, when they were just kids.
Then, John had Paul, and turns out, Paul just about covered all of that, too, and plus it. A best friend, a coconspirator, a wife, a collaborator, his partner, his rival and his greatest ally and muse. Cherry on top, Paul needed John just as badly, madly. Maybe John never saw it that way, maybe that was why he had his fear, his insecurity that Paul never really needed him as much as John needed him.
“IRVIN: Back then people were very keen on knowing who the leader of the group was…
GEORGE M.: Yes, I was. When I first auditioned them I said, “Who’s going to be the leader, is it John or Paul?” Such an odd couple really, because they were diferent and yet very similar, both had big egos, both very good songwriters, but they needed each other like mad.
IRVIN: Did they really like each other? It wasn’t just a competitive partnership.
GEORGE M.: Oh no, they loved each other! They were brothers, and like brothers they pissed each other off quite a lot. John could be maddening at times, Paul can be very bossy and even more maddening and George would get fed up with both of them. But they did love each other and adored what the other did and had an incredible bond.
Paul always took inspiration from John, especially in his lyric-writing. ‘Eleanor Rigby’, for example, wouldn’t have happened without John’s influence. Paul wrote all of it but John’s influence was there and similarly John was knocked out by the freshness Paul brought to melodies and harmonies. He learnt from Paul how to put in the odd chord that choked you up a bit.”
— George Martin, interview w/ Jim Irvin for Mojo: Sir George Martin: The Mojo interview. (March, 2007) (X)
I think I've gone off tangent, but the point of this was to say, John was dead lazy, vastly intelligent and talented, but very prone to sloth. Paul was a rather perfect stopper to that. He could whip John up, get him moving, shaking, ever patient and ever loving, just the right enough of mean, bitchy and stubborn, smart and quick tongued, to meet John toe-to-toe. Like a house on fire these two fired each other up, talk about all-consuming and intense.
They were pretty perfectly matched for each other.
“It was like a tug of war. Imagine two people pulling on a rope, smiling at each other and pulling all the time with all their might. The tension between the two of them made for the bond.”
— George Martin on Lennon/McCartney (X)
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Oh No..
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part 3: drunk words, sober thoughts
previous
***song has designated playing time. will be in big red font.
pairing๛: kate martin x iowau!reader
synopsis๛: kate catches you watching your saved edits of her
warnings: sexual content, mentions of drinking
not proofread again smh sorry
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Its been about 3 days since deciding to distance yourself from kate. and trust me, its been incredibly hard; not only do you miss her desperately, but you have to be around her constantly due to your training duties. you try your very hardest to ignore her at practices, only communicating when absolutely necessary. an example being when she gets knocked over, hard, during a pick and roll gone wrong. she smacked her head pretty badly, and you had to carry out concussion protocol. or, when they are in the weight room for lifts, she almost always needs direction for 1-3 exercises. this instance is arguably way worse than the other, considering you have to touch her and guide her into the right form. whenever you have no choice but to talk to her, she gives you these big puppy eyes. you love them, but again, stubborn ol’ you wont actually fix anything right now.
one day after practice, when you had just finished explaining stretches to jada for her hamstrings, caitlin and gabbie come over. gabbie looks worried and caitlin has a very serious look on her face, the one she only wears before giving the team a pre-game talk.
“y/n, we need to speak to you” caitlin starts. "yea, its nothing bad so please dont make that face!!" gabbie sees the worried expression you hold. looking around the gym, you slowly nod and look between the two taller girls. "alright...go ahead..."
"we have noticed-" caitlin pauses and looks at gabbie for reassurance, gabbie in turn nods her head and caitlin turns back at you. "you and kate have been rather, distant! and that is very weird for you too."
"usually you two are inseparable, and you seem like youre ignoring her, whats up?" gabbie continues.
mouth wide open, you start to move it but no words come out. the fact that they said something and noticed the ignoring was on purpose threw you off enough, and now you have to tell them why. 3 things go through your head. 1) lie to their faces. 2) tell them the truth and get yelled at. and 3) turn and run as fast as you possibly can. gabbie looks at caitlin and they turn and whisper for a second, you still standing there, trying to form a coherent sentence. caitlin turns and says "you dont have to tell us right this second, but we are here for you, so feel free to come to us whenever you need, ok?" she puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in a small circle. your eyes dart back amd forth between them, and you peep out a little 'ok thanks' before turning and walking away. usually people didnt pick up on the things you did, kate did though. shit, even when you try to hate her its so damn hard because she knows you like a calculator knows math. you felt like your life was slowly falling apart, like a broken pot thats been trying to stay together, but crumbles as time goes. you needed to add some glue.
ever since caitlin and gabbie came up to you after practice, they talk to you way more throughout lifts and practices. to be honest, its more caitlin than gabbie. in fact, youve noticed that caitlin has been touchier and more flirtatious. from an arm circling around your neck, a touch to the waist when she slides by, a wink in between drills, or suggestive jokes only between you too. you cant tell if its on purpose or not, but you kind of .... like it? maybe you like it, or maybe you like the fact that you can see kate in the corner of your eye everytime, staring the two of you down. when these interactions happen, its like she teleports so youre in her eyeshot. almost every single time you talk to caitlin, flirtatious or not, she turns and talks to hannah. this leaves you thinking, what could she possibly be saying? of course your whole being hopes that its her being jealous, but the devil on your shoulder tells you shes talking shit about you, calling you a whore and that youre only using caitlin to get popular. sometimes the angel on your shoulder talks too, though. kate has been consistently texting you, asking if you can meet up and talk, or if she can call you to resolve whatever it is that's happening. you respond with 'no thanks' or 'im busy rn.' to every single text. you feel like she owes you something, but you dont know what. your heart aches, wanting so badly to respond nicely and to be in her arms again, back to how it was always meant to be.
࿎
࿎
࿎
its saturday night, and you get a text in the team groupchat.
hawks🦅💛🖤
caitlin clark: hey guyysssssss so since we got the huge W (😜😜) i think we should all go out to the cluerrbbbbb
gabbie marshall: oh fuck yes what time should we meet and where
kate martin: im down if everyone else is
you roll your eyes at her text, only because its her.
(jada, kylie, and 5 others liked kate martins message.)
you look up at the time, seeing its 10 and use it as an excuse. you did not want to see kate in a club setting right now, let alone get ready. getting drunk did seem pretty nice though.....
you: ill pass, thanks thoooo
immediately, caitlin and gabbie respond, insisting you to go out with them. after 4 minutes of arguing with them, you give up and get off the couch.
now its time to get ready!!!!
pulling out your speaker, you blast your getting ready playlist. you slap on a stunning layer of makeup, drawing on eyeliner to emphasize your eye color, as well as 2 layers of mascara on your curled lashes. a little concealer here and there, some blush, highlighter and a layer of setting powder to make sure it stays intact while you are shitfaced. the dress of choice is a tight black, mini strapless dress, and to feel a little alive you throw a lacey pair of undies on underneath. its not like you were gonna get laid anyways. you did your hair in an updo, to accentuate the muscles in your back. you slip a small pair of heels onto your feet, then finally spray your signature perfume and some glitter. galncing at the clock, you see its 10:45, and that you have to get going. if we are being honest, walking out to meet everyone... you felt like a billion dollars. you dont know what it was, but something was making you so, so confident right now. the sway of your hips while you walked was hypnotizing, and getting a whiff of your perfume as you passed by put the cherry on the cake.
arriving at the club, the team stood outside waiting for the rest to get there. it seemed that you were the last one, so the girls filed in one by one. upon entering the club, it was hot and humid, bodys everywhere and the music blasting. not seeing where everyone else went , you made your way over to the bar to order shots.
"two shots of tequila please" you smile nicely at the bartender, grabbing the shots after he poured them, saying a quick thank you before downing both of them. you hoped that they would quickly take the edge off, and to make you stop thinking about kate. she was right in your eye sight, which didnt help too much. especially since she looked so fucking delicious. she sat next to jada, legs man-spread, wearing a green button down, top buttons open- showing her chest; and a classic pair of balck jeans on her botoom half. her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she stared across the room at you, sipping out of a solo cup. you turn back to the bartender and order some more shots, hoping they actually work some magic on your poor little brain.
after youre 4 shots and 1 drink in, gabbie comes and pays you a visit at the bar. " how ya doing over here girl?" she places her cold hand on your leg, standing and looking down at you. " im s'greatttttt. d'gyou kno that i loveee someone ? yesssaaaaa i dooooooo" you make a heart shape with your fingers and raise your eyebrows repeatedly. her eyes widen as you continue to slur some more words at her. " her— shes righttt over there next to shjada ! she looks so sexy fuck me bro" you put your head in your hands, and gabbie sits down next to you, picking up your chin. " babe i think its time to sweat some of this alcohol out, get out there and dance your little butt off." looking back at her, you crookedly smile and get up, hearing that your favorite club song just came on.
now playing 'Up Down (Do this all day)' by T-Pain, B.o.B.
making your way to the dance floor, you can feel kate watching you like a hawk. you pick a spot right in front of her and start to move your body. mindlessly moving, you back up little by little, and crash into a chest. looking up, you see its a basketball girl from another school. you dont remember her name— being that youre drunk, but her face rings a bell. "you dancing all alone baby?" her hand sits on your hip, other one creeping to your ass. looking up, you nod and put both hands around her neck. "lets change that then, m'kay?" as soon as those words came out of her mouth, you turned around, pushing back into her, slightly grinding your hips. you purposely turned around, wanting to see kate's face while you grinded on some random basketball girl. you watch her fist shut, squeezing the empty solo cup she held. you keep eye contact, moving your hands up and down your body, while the girls hands stayed on your hips, face in the crevice of your neck. this continues for a while until suddenly, kate gets up and leaves the room, clearly angry. it was sexy on her.
seeing that she went into the bathroom, you follow her in a couple seconds behind. you decide to wash your hands, as that girl on the dance floor was actually really sweaty. kate comes out of a stall, and she stares at you through the mirror. leaning against the wall, your first words with her outside of practice are exchanged.
"you gonna tell me what the fuck that was out there?" you turn around and look at her with a confused face.
"what was what? i was just dancing." her lip curls and she turns away her face. " y/n, i am— i dont like that. you shouldnt be grinding on someone you dont know." a smile grows on your face and you tilt your head. "oh, so i should be grinding on people i know? regardless of feelings?" her head whips back at you, wearing a confused but intrigued look. you walk closer to her and trace your finger across her jaw. "so i guess that means you want me to grind on you, right martin?" her last name comes out of your mouth with a little slur, both of you still being drunk. unexpectedly, kate grabs your face and waist, kissing you deeply. she turns the two of you around, the cold tile making contact with your exposed back. she lifts your leg up to her waist, and you tangle your hands in her messy hair. never in your life have you kissed someone so passionately before, and her hands roaming and groping your ass just make it 10x better. she kisses you like youre oxygen and shes the lungs. in between kisses, she speaks.
"i hate"
"that youre ig— noring me-"
" i jus- wanna love you— and make you mine- for ever- baby."
"please- i need yoh— im sor- ry for"
"whatever i did"
after the last blurb of words, she moves down to your neck, kissing all around, and sucking behind your ear. you let out a groan and grasp her a little harder. inside youre silently praying you remember this in the morning. but then what she said registers in your head. although you didnt want to, you pull away from her soft lips.
"wait."
she looks at you with her sweet puppy eyes, intensely waiting for you to keep talking. her hands still on your ass.
"why? why are you saying this now? and not before" she looks at you a little confused, stepping back a bit. you continue speaking.
"kate, baby. how'd we get here? how'd we get like this?"
she stares back and you and fails to answer again, now playing with the bracelets on her wrist. angry that she didnt say anything- ESPECIALLY after she just kissed the fuck out of you, you turn and storm out. kate follows you out, scared of what you'll do and also that you might find that girl again. gabbie sees the state you two are in, and lets the girls know shes calling an uber. not protesting, you galdly go home. the ride was completely silent, windows open letting cool air in. the chill helped you sober up a little, and thankfully you safely made it uo to your apartment. after showering and cleaning tbe rest of the makeup off your face, you climb into bed and think about the nights events.
a thousand questions fly through your head. why would kate say that right then? why did you do what you did? did she mean those things? although it confused you, one thing kept you content enough to close your eyes and fall asleep.
drunk words are sober thoughts, arent they?

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A/Nq(❂‿❂)p: i hope i wasnt being dramatic when i said i had a good chapter coming! i was gonna make this longer but i decided to save some stuff for the next chapter. i hope you guys like this one teheh PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! I WANNA IMPROVE AND MAKE THIS A GOOD STORY THAT YOU GUYS ENJOY! anyways.. toodles my munchkins😜
#Spotify#iowa wbb#kate martin#kate martin x reader#wbb#wlw#caitlin clark#gabbie marshall#omg kate martin#girls kissing girls
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Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P6
Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.
Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF
Of course your time in South Korea with Charles had to come to an end eventually, you guys had made the most of the sight-seeing and even managed to meet up with Carlos and Lando before all heading to Japan, you guys went straight to the track on Thursday for media duties.
Throughout the weekend it seemed you were the only one actively looking out for Charles, when you were walking through the paddock with your PR manager, you weren't listening to her. Your eyes tracked every individual person around you, trying to get a glimpse of the one face you wanted to see.
However, whenever you did spot Charles, he was never looking at you. He's be talking to a mechanic, or Joris, or Fred, or fans, or the latest celebrity in the paddock, but he never glanced over at you.
The first time you'd spotted him, you'd shouted his name and ran over to him with a big grin on your face. You didn't know who it was that he was with, but when you went to pull him in for a hug, he almost felt like he just leaned into the side not really paying much attention.
You then felt embarred at how you'd childishly run up to him, you knew that was an issue for you, for the first time in years the Grid was aging rather than putting their trust in rookies. Charles was now 28, you were 22 so there were obvious differences in how you both acted but you didn't think it would affect it this much!
FP1 was shocking, the car had no grip on the Japanese race track and you were all over the shop. But it wasn't just the car's fault. Mentally you were else where, cringing at the thought of what Charles possibly said to the people around him once you'd left.
FP2 wasn't any better, coming in 18th fastest on the grid. Everyone was frustrated, they couldn't work out what was wrong. You were frustrated with yourself and the team were frustrated that they couldn't work out what was wrong with you.
FP3, again wasn't much better, it got to the point where you were forced to go to the medical tent because you weren't being yourself at all.
You sat there while the doctor did his tests, everyone thought it would be a wrist or shoulder twist that was messing you up, but you told them you were fine. Of course the German team refused to not give the best to their young driver, so one of the mechanics and social media team sat with you waiting.
"Well, you seem fine physically. Blood pressures normal, you've not reported any strains or pains, anything going on up here?" he asks tapping the side of your head lightly.
"I'm fine, just an off weekend." you mumble, not only were you annoyed that your lack of confidence in yourself was giving you a lack of confidence of your driving and decision making.
"Give me 5 minutes!" he says leaving the room, he comes trotting back in with another man, who looks to be more casually than the doctor.
"Hello!" you smile quietly at the young man, a similar age to you, maybe slightly older.
"Hi Y/N, Dr Martin tells me that maybe you'll benefit from me" he smiles taking a seat in the chair opposite the one you were in.
"Hmmm?" you ask confused.
"I'm a specialized sport athlete related therapist. I think you are going through a down week, and I want to help you. Free, and off the books for this convo, then we can talk about potentially any needed in future sessions" he offers.
Talking to him about everything was actually really relieving, you were able to confide in him in a judgement free zone. Of course Charles ignoring you was the tip of the iceberg, but there had been underlying issues since you'd been announced as coming into F1.
You left the session with a clear mind, using the pointers he gave you when you left the room to get back to the Audi garage and to start Qualifying.
"Hey, I heard you went to the medical tent, everything okay?" Alex asks with Lily by his side.
"Erm yeah, nothing's wrong. Ready to race!" you grin at him, before pulling your race suit up and tightening it. You had your social media manager do your hair in a low plait before pulling your balaclava over the top, you were hopeless when it came to your hair under your helmet.
You walk out to where you car is pulling you helmet on it was a nice and new special one for Japan, decorated pretty and pink with cherry blossom which you new everyone would go crazy for.
Qualifying was crazy, you managed to get through Q1 coming in P5, which shocked everyone. You were driving like a completely different person than you were for the last two days. Q2 and you came P1, you flew round the lap, you and the car flying round the corners and pushing hard along the straights. Q3 and you placed P2, not a pole but there you were front row on the grid next to Lando Norris in P1 and Yuki Tsunoda in P3.
If you got a good start tomorrow, maybe just maybe you could take your first win.
Everyone congratulated you on a phenomenal drive, starting on the front row tomorrow while defending from Yuki and Charles behind you. Most of the interviews people could tell you'd been breathing a different air since you came out of the medical tent.
Two unidentified team principles put in a complaint asking for a drug swab on you as your change in driving was almost instantaneous making the FIA launch an investigation into you and Audi over the weekend.
"What happened in the medical tent Y/N, we need to know to let the FIA know..." your manager says on the Sunday, you'd had a good night sleep only to wake up to all the allegations and the investigation into Audi.
"I, I just met with the therapist, the reason I wasn't driving the best was because I've been struggling with the pressures that come with being an F1 driver, it's very different than F2. I didn't know it was illegal to ask for help..." you sass, not wanting to hear anything more before going out to do the track walk. You remain silent, thinking about everything going on, when you walked past other teams you heard the whispers, and the rumors coming from them.
"Y/N is it true?" you hear from your left as your walking back to the Audi hospitality to get lunch before the race starts.
"Sorry?" you twist turning around to see Charles and Carlos stood on the steps of the Ferrari motorhome.
"That's you've been using performance boosting drugs?" Charles frowns crossing his arms in a disappointed kind of way.
"You've got to be shitting me right now. Sorry I have to get to the Audi garage, I don't have time for this" you say turning away and walking off, but an arm reaches out and grabs yours.
"Tell us" Charles says.
"Let go of me Charles, it'd fine if you want to go round believing stupid rumors but i thought after the weekend in Korea you'd know the kind of person I am" you raise your voice. You rip your hand away before going back to Audi. You storm into your drivers room, trying to hold back the tears until they just fall out. You sit down on the edge of the sofa in there, turned away from the door.
"Y/N time to get in the car" a voice calls out knocking on your door. You primitively pull your helmet on, so no one can see the tear stained cheeks and your watery eyes.
"The FIA have come to a conclusion about your case, we just heard but it wont come until after the race" you engineer says pulling you to one side away from everyone else.
"That's a good thing, they are still letting you race. Which means they've taken on board your toxicology report and see you are clean, they've also got statements from everyone involved and Andrea is asking for a formal apology to you" he explains, you just nod, getting into the car and taking the wheel from him.
The race was, well. You crashed out actually going into turn 11. You were defending from Lando and Max who had made his way up the grid when they both tried to over take you either side. They pinched you in on the tight turn neither of them giving you room to move, and your wheels got destroyed. You were sent flipping over crashing into Lewis's front wing on the way. The race was red flagged, giving Lewis a change to fix his front wing and any damage that occurred to Lando and Max's car.
With the DNF, you were rushed straight to the medical tent to be checked out. After the rest of the day was a blur, the FIA confirmed a 10 second stop go penalty for both Lando and Max, as it was a very dangerous crash that caused you injuries and the car significant damage.
Your PR manager came with you for media duties as you were a little, spacey from the pain medication they'd given you and you weren't 100% capable of understanding things.
"So Y/N, it's been an interesting race today lets look at the finish board" he says handing you the clipboard knowing you probably wouldn't remember the lay out.
P1 - Yuki Tsunoda in Alpha Tauri
P2 - Charles Leclerc in Ferrari
P3 - Oscar Piastri in Mclaren
P4 - Alex Albon in Audi
P5 - Max Verstappen in RedBull
P6 - Lando Norris in Mclaren
P7 - Liam Lawson in Alpine
P8 - George Russell in Mercedes
P9 - Logan Sargeant in Williams
P10 - Lewis Hamilton in Mercedes
P11 - Carlos Sainz in Ferrari
P12 - Zhou Guanyu in Williams
P13 - Daniel Ricciardo in Alpha Tauri
P14 - Kevin Magnussen in Haas
P15 - Fernando Alonso in Aston Martin
DNF- Y/N in Audi
DNF - Lance Stroll in Aston Martin
DNF- Pierre Gasly in Alpine
DNF - Valtteri Bottas in Haas
DNF - Sergio Perez in RedBull
"Yeah it was, imagine driving 47 laps of a 53 lap race in 3rd, 2nd and 1st to crash out" you try to joke but it comes across blunt. Your PR manager explains your not angry just disappointed.
"Yeah, it was a spectacular race from you Y/N and I assume your happy with the statement the FIA released about you?" he asks and you look to your manager in confusion.
"I've been in the hospital all this time, I haven't been told anything" you admit, looking confused.
"They cleared the allegations, and explained the real reasoning why you were in that tent, and that your toxicology results came back clear. How did it feel to be accused?" he asks, pushing the mic closer making you flinch back a little.
"If I'm being honest ... this weekend has been the shittiest weekend of my life and I'm just glad its over. I'm going home and I'll see you all in Australia" you mumble, but the interviewer wasn't done.
"Just one last question Y/N did your team-mates and other colleagues fight against what their teams brought forward or were they in on these false allegations?"
"Considering my name has come out of everyone and their sons mouth this weekend its safe to say I know who is fake as fuck" you frown. You walk off like a boss, sticking your middle finger up when he goes to ask you another question.
"Okay, home time! You are most definitely not of sound mind to be doing this" she frowns pulling you away.
Alex had been there for you through the whole weekend even when 'evidence' to help the allegations came forward. Same with Lando and Daniel, but the people who really shocked you Like Charles, Carlos, Lewis, Sergio and Max who all had something to say were the ones that hurt the most.
"Australia's in two weeks. Come back with a completely new mindset yeah?" your PR admits rubbing your shoulders before sending you on your way.
You make one last phone call before you get into your Audi to drive to the hotel.
"Hey Chris, about those therapy sessions... how do i start paying for them?"
Taglist:
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#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#charles leclerc#charles lecrelc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 one shot#cl16 x you#charles lecrelc
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He actually cancelled con to see if we can pull off a fucking dirty martini in part three. Can girlie get it together?
we can but we can't, you know? it's.... we're real complex, aren't we? good thing joe's sort of into it :)
Wordcount: 3K
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Mistaken, Not Stirred
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
The bickering worked. It was fun. It did something. Being a bit bitchy and sassy and sarcastic, making faces and rolling eyes, it all just worked.
You swam in it.
Wanted to live in it forever, you liked it so much.
Joe looked extra nice when his stupid face was trying to suppress a smile, cheekbones on show, eyes all twinkly like a naughty schoolboy's.
“No thanks.”
Unbelievable.
And sure, it could be annoying when it happened in front of others, but now, with just you and him down in the bar, there was a tension that was impossible to ignore and the bickering kind of alleviated it enough to make it bearable.
To find amusement there.
A little bit of joy on these cold wet dreary December nights.
“No thanks.” Joe’d said when you offered a dirty martini. His face read he really didn’t want you to make one for him, but you knew if Martin had offered him one right now, Joe would’ve drank it dripping from his fingers if he had to.
To retaliate, you plonked down two martini glasses in front of you, and when Joe raised a challenging eyebrow, you said, “I’m thirsty.” which made him chuckle.
You turned around to find the right bottles of liquor and when you spun back, Joe had sat down at the bar right in front of you.
His eyes shot up from lower down when you looked right at him, and then they darted around for a second.
You knew what he’d been looking at.
Rude, yes. But next time you’d make sure to bend over just a little.
When Joe looked at you again, you narrowed your eyes a second and stilled in suspicion. Joe smiled a little bashfully, knew he’d been caught, but wasn’t going to apologise for anything.
“Martin says you’ve been dying to make me a drink.”
“Martin’s wrong,” you bit back immediately. “I’ve not been dying to make you a drink.”
You were.
You absolutely were.
“I just remember the first drink I ever made you–”
“Only.” He interrupted.
You stared at Joe a second. Blinked once. Twice.
“Only drink. The only drink you’ve ever made me.” Joe corrected you smugly, but pretended to be casual about it. Pushed his chin up and gestured with a hand for you to keep going, "But, go on."
The audacity of this man. Incredible.
You frowned and closed your eyes whilst you tried to find the right words, mouth ready to go, "What…?" followed by “the fuck?” perhaps, but the words never came out.
Instead, you put down the bottle and went, “You know what,” taking the two glasses and moving them down the bar a bit. Away from Joe.
“It’ll remain it.”
“No,” Joe laughed, immediately reaching out an arm across the bar that he then defeatedly rested his forehead on.
You moved the rest of your supplies down the bar too, and Joe looked at it for a moment, head still on his outstretched arm and, could he stop it already with this whole puppy dog face? The eyes, the pout?
The song ended and it was silent for jut a second, but that mere singular second felt excruciatingly long. It was just glass clinking and liquor pouring and you were being stared at from three barstools down, and then Joe got up and moved to sit right in front of you again and gave you a stupid little smirk, and, God.
You nearly dropped the jar of olives.
Made Joe laugh and silently mutter, “Oh my God,” like he couldn’t actually believe how cack-handed you were.
You ignored it.
Rose above it.
You didn’t, not really. You just couldn’t think of a come-back quick enough.
Finishing the drinks, you eyed Joe as you closed the jar of olives and the bottles of liquor used. Kept eyes on him in case he was going to reach over and take one of the glasses for himself.
He didn’t.
He stared right back at you though, all mischievous, waiting for what you were going to do with that second martini.
A flirtatious comment wouldn’t have felt misplaced, but you kept quiet. And so did Joe.
Obviously, that second martini was for him.
Were you just going to hand it over, though?
Of course not.
With everything somewhat tidied, you took both glasses, one in each hand, and took a tiny step backwards, just far enough out of reach that if Joe was to lurch forward, you’d be safe.
You went for a sip, but couldn’t hold in your laughter as you did. You got your mouth close, but not close enough to get an actual taste.
Your huffs of breath nearly blew the drink right from the glass, which only made you laugh harder.
Joe couldn’t help laugh with you, shaking his head before he dropped it, said, “Unbelievable.”
You had to put both glasses down to make sure you wouldn’t spill any, shoulders shaking as you giggled.
“Has Martin taught you nothing?” Joe said, standing up onto the footrest of the barstool to reach for a glass for himself, which, yea fine, he could take his dirty martini. You knew it’d be good and you knew he was going to eat his words in a second.
“Martin taught me plenty. This one’s on the house.”
Joe sat back down, dirty martini in hand, and you picked yours back up as well.
He smelled it first, winced slightly as if it stank, and you pretended offence.
Looking at him over your drink, you waited for Joe to take the first sip. You were so ready to accept a bitterly resentful compliment from him, were so excited to be able to rub it in his face for the literal rest of time. Or, you know, until you’d actually lose your job... not that you were a pessimist, but, you weren’t completely daft.
And Joe... he took a second. He waited to have a sip too. Raised an eyebrow, daringly so, but you were unsure what he was daring you to do.
So instead, you copied him.
Raised an eyebrow right back at him and then looked at the drink you made that he was holding. Saw how slowly, Joe made it reach his lips, tipped the glass slightly, and tasted what you’d just mixed for him.
The anticipation was high.
You eagerly awaited the review.
The rating.
Watched his face closely.
Waited to see how Joe was going to deal with drinking a perfect drink, made by your hand.
You held your own glass near your mouth, frozen, and waited.
Joe took a larger sip than you were expecting him to, a whole fucking gulp, and slowly set the glass back down as you saw him swirl the liquid around in his mouth.
His face read nothing.
He puffed out his cheeks and then sucked them in, was about to swallow and, fuck, you were so ready for him to tut, to groan, to fall down to his knees and to admit defeat.
But then, Joe didn’t swallow.
He didn’t fucking swallow.
Joe made eye-contact and instead of swallowing the huge gulp of alcoholic beverage, he leant forward a little, arms crossed on the bar, hanging heavily into his shoulders, and then he... he opened his mouth.
And he didn't open it to let a little drip out.
He opened his mouth wide.
Let whatever was in there just fall out back into the glass.
Let it splash and leak like a fucking waterfall.
Clear vodka, vermouth, brine had mixed with Joe's spit and was now leaking out of his mouth, over his chin and onto the bar in front of him where it ran down a little and wet the sleeves of his shirt.
Dumbfounded.
You couldn't fucking believe it.
What?
“Wha...” you couldn't even finish the word as your eyes grew in shock and your brow furrowed in confusion.
There was no way the drink was bad enough for Joe to not be able to even swallow it down.
“You um,” Joe held a fist to his mouth and grimaced. Looked at you like he was about to throw up. “You must have gotten some measurements wrong, I think...”
You looked at his glass.
Not a fucking chance.
You’d done it all correctly!
You’d measured everything just fine, knew the steps, did them all in the right order... mixing a dirty martini wasn’t hard.
You’d mixed that drink to fucking perfection and you fucking knew it.
And then, in an insane turn of events and choices, instead of going for your own drink that you were holding just a mere little tiny inch from your face, like, babe it was literally right there... instead of just going for that. The drink you made for yourself. The one you had right there. Instead of doing that, you reached for the glass that Joe’s mouth contents had just leaked into and took a sip right from the wet mess Joe’d created.
It went so fast, Joe didn’t even really have time to process what the fuck you were doing and what the fuck he was doing.
Before any of it registered, you gasped at the cold splash of drink that hit you in the chest.
You had reached for Joe’s glass, brought that to your face to have a taste because obviously Joe was wrong and being a little shit and you had to know. Had to verify.
You’d taken a sip.
But Joe’s hand had chased his glass.
Had taken hold of the foot of it right as you were pouring some of it into your mouth, and he’d pulled it.
That had been in his mouth.
You couldn’t possibly be fucking serious right now.
Joe felt himself twitch in his jeans at the sight. You shouldn’t be doing this right now, what the fuck was wrong with you?
But your grip on the glass was too strong as you tried to hold it in place, pulled on it as Joe did too, and then, Joe let go.
Made you splash the full thing against your whole person.
Joe was already up on his feet when a shrill gasp escaped you. Fuck, that was cold. Made whatever of the drink that had made it into your mouth escape it immediately, too.
“Shut... the fuck, up.”
No one was talking. Why did you tell the whole room to shut up?
It had all gone so fast.
“Are you joking?”
Joe rushed his way around the bar, hands finding a tea towel on the side and he was laughing.
“This is your–”
Fault.
You were about to tell Joe the reason why your whole front was wet was his fault. You couldn’t finish the sentence however, because Joe pressed the tea towel right against your mouth. Got a hand around the back of your neck to really press the fabric into your face, your neck, your chest.
If you wanted to push him away, which, coincidentally you didn’t, but you wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t give you the chance to.
Joe repeated sorry over and over as he tried to swallow his giggles, trying but absolutely failing at trying to remove the evidence of what he’d just done.
“You did this, why would you– you pulled whilst I was literally drinking from it– this is your fault,” you tried to get in his face, tried to force eye-contact, but Joe kept eyes on what he was dabbing. On the wet skin that was now tacky and sticky and the drink had been so cold but you were burning now, hot to the touch.
You drank the martini that had been inside Joe’s mouth and then got it thrown into your face, sort of. And whatever you got to taste of it was actually fine. You hadn’t gotten measurements wrong at all.
“That martini was fucking perfect, I didn’t mix it wrong at all, why did you spit it out?”
Joe kept dabbing. You kept accusing.
And, God, you just kept going.
Joe was still repeating sorry, louder and louder in a bid to overpower you eventually, make you shut up because this had just been a joke. He hadn’t meant to splash you with a perfectly fine dirty martini that he was just pretending wasn’t any good.
He was meant to help you close the bar, that’s what he told James and Chloé. Was meant to wipe the bar down after he humorously hadn’t swallowed the sip. Was meant to clean his own mess and remind you to empty the bins, remind you to check if everything was stocked correctly.
“You’re cleaning the bar, I’m not touching that. Why didn’t you just drink that– swallow that, like a normal person? Why did you–”
It was just a joke.
“I know how to make a dirty martini, that first time I gave you one– this one is good, it’s more than good, this one is perfhm–”
Joe kissed you.
Got you square on the mouth.
Shocked you right into silence.
It only lasted maybe two seconds before Joe pulled back and gave you a sort of wild look. Breathed all heavily. Still had a tea towel pressed to your collarbone. To your cleavage.
“I said... I’m sorry, all right?”
You didn’t even hear him say it. Just looked at his mouth and felt his hand still on the back of your neck where it held onto you firmly. Squeezed you there with his fingers.
“The drink was good,” Joe confirmed somewhat sternly, like he’d told you before already and you hadn’t been able to accept the compliment.
Silly.
As if it mattered at all that the drink you’d mixed him was any good.
You’d moved onto different things now, and couldn’t take your eyes of Joe’s lips. You felt heat rise up from the tips of your toes right into your face. Joe shouldn’t have done that. He tasted of martini. The drink you’d mixed for him. Had his sleeves wet with. Had his chin still damp with.
You were meant to close the bar.
To tidy and clean and get everything ready for the next day.
You were meant to turn off all the equipment, were meant to get the key from the register and lock up properly and leave it in the postbox.
Were meant to tell Martin the next day that James and Chloé had let you close by yourself and, you know our regular, Joe? He helped you a little and it was all fine, see, because you’d done a good job.
You were meant to just do your job.
Were meant to just do the things you knew Martin would make you do them had he been in.
But... you did none of those things, did you?
You didn’t even listen to Joe who was about to tell you he would clean up his own mess, and he was sorry about kissing you, but you couldn’t stop talking and his hands were occupied, how else was he supposed to silence you, you know? His mistake, he said. That was his mistake.
Joe said he was sorry, but smiled and remained close, and so how were you to blame for leaning close to kiss him again?
You weren’t meant to be kissing Joe, the regular, behind the bar after hours.
You weren’t meant to get your hands around him and push him right into you while you accepted that his grip on you grew stronger as he deepened the kiss, got his tongue involved.
You weren’t meant to push Joe backwards and have him bump into the side where his elbow caught a bottle and smashed on the floor. You also weren’t meant to ignore that. Weren’t meant to step into the glass and spread whatever drink that was across the floor in wet footprints.
You weren’t meant to do any of what happened after either.
But they happened regardless of if they were meant to happen or not and you let yourself get swept up and away. That was your mistake.
You fished the key from the register without having another look at the state of the place. Left the music playing and rushed up the stairs together, arms climbing into coats, grabby hands reaching for waists to make hips clash together.
Joe knocked one of Frank’s stools over, nearly let it clatter down the stairs. His mistake.
You let Joe feel you up, hands slipping into your coat and under your shirt as you tried to lock up. You let yourself be pushed up against the door when you fumbled too long with the key. Managed to eventually lock it and then let it slip into your pocket, force of habit. Your mistake.
Found your way to your flat which, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on from which angle you approached the current situation, was close enough to not let the realization of what you were actually doing sink in too much.
You remained full of giggles, full of pushes and pulls and you wanted to bite him because who the fuck did Joe think he was?
You’d tried your hardest, for literal weeks, to keep your job. To make it past the trial period. To impress Martin. To not step on anyone’s toes.
You were meant to mix the perfect dirty martini and impress Joe and thus impress Martin.
Do your job is essentially what it came down to. You were meant to do your job.
What you were not meant to do, was wake up to the ringing of your phone with another person occupying more than half the bed.
You were not meant to answer in the groggiest of voices and be asked by an incredibly monotone voice if you’d had fun the night before.
It took you a second to wake up.
To understand what Martin was asking.
To recognize that the heavy naked limbs of the person in your space was Joe.
The regular with the snarky comments and the cocky smirks. Martin’s friend from the bar who never fucking paid for anything because apparently, he was above that, gross, you wanted to retch.
“Oh fuck…” you groaned when the penny dropped.
“I expect you here to fix this mess yourself.”
“Yes,” you slung back the covers, revealed your naked body to the room and immediately pulled your duvet back over you again. “Yes, of course.”
“In 10 minutes.”
Fuck.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#icallhimjoey#mistaken not stirred
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How to Blow Up a Pipeline (or: why the climate movement is failing)
Okay, talking about politics this week, let me talk about this amazing book that you all should read, because it is not that long and it really makes a lot of good points. I found this book through the Philosophy Tube video a couple of years ago.
So, what is this book about?
To put it lightly: It is about how the climate movement is failing over their refusal to use any sort of violence or sabotage. And it is about the ethics of violence.
Which is not only important to the climate movement, but all sorts of progressive movements. Which again brings me back to what I talked about so many times before: Being against a revolution is being against change. And the left in general has a problem with idealizing parcifism to an unhealthy degree.
Let me explain: The left has in general very much drunken the cool-aid to accept that there is no violence happening right now, so using violence against the perceived non-violence is wrong. But that entire idea is bullshit.
Letting people starve, while there is enough food around for everyone, is a form of violence.
Letting people die of preventable deseases, because they cannot afford health care, is a form of violence.
Letting people die in extreme weather, just so that a few people can profit from fossil fuels... Well, that is a form of violence, too.
But left people - especially white, leftists - have very much accepted that non-action can never be violence. So, not giving someone the food they need, cannot be violence in their point of view. So, using violence to act against the system that lets this happen again and again... that is "out of proportion" in their point of view. Because they do not suffer themselves, they do not perceive the violence.
The book talks about how specifically the climate movement refuses to use any form of violence, even just in the form of sabotage, in which no human would ever come to harm. Which is why the title is "how to blow up a pipeline". Because blowing up a pipeline would harm those, who profit from climate change, from the fossil fuels. The book is also about how the climate movement then goes ahead to appropriate civil rights leaders, without really understanding the context they were in. Because they will name Martin Luther King, Ghandi or Nelson Mandela as examples of people who succeeded with non-violence, without acknowledging that all three of those leaders were leaders of a non-violent group that closely associated with a violent movement that aimed for the same changes. And through that contrast - of a violent group and a peaceful group with widespread support - the people in power were forced to make a move to work towards them to some degree.
Now, technically the book involved nothing new to me. Because I thought about this topic - about the ethics and visuals of violence - for a long while now. It also is fitting with the entire French Revolution thing I spoke about on Sunday. Because we see it in the judgement of the French Revolution as well. On how there a) was a peaceful group first, and b) the violence that happened, happened in response to other violence.
And as the book points out: The fossil fuel industry does not care. As a German I know this too well. And I think it is no accident that a lot of the examples of this in the book come from Germany. Our climate movement here is very tame. It is mostly just kids (like people between their teens and early twenties) doing protests in forms of blocking streets and the likes. Yet, the fossil lobby and those in power will call that "terrorism" and will call that one time when folks tore down a fence at the coal mine as "extreme violent behavior". They are doing massive and at times violent police action against those KIDS, who organize the street blockades. Having thrown literal teenagers into prison for at times weeks, before judges intervened clearly saying that "the kids have done nothing illegal".
They do not care that the movement is non-violent. And the movement will not get anywhere, without some group standing in and doing some damage to the most important thing those people can think of: Their base line.
#how to blow up a pipeline#climate movement#fridays for future#climate action now#anarchism#anti fossil fuels#protest#solarpunk
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All. Night. - Chad Meeks-Martin
One sentence summary: Chad, who’s your best friend, gets jealous at a party you only went to for him.
Word count: 1,138
“I didn’t think I’d see you out tonight” Chad grinned leaning against the counter.
“Didn’t think I’d be out” you finished making your drink, looking in Chad’s direction. “You want one?”
“Please?” He smiled sweetly.
You quickly made a second drink, slid it to Chad and took a deep breath. Truth was, you didn’t want to be at the party but you were there for Chad.
He quickly became your best friend and the person you trusted and leaned on the most…he also quickly became the person that consumed your every waking thought. You had no idea when your vision of him went from your best friend to the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life, but you knew there was no turning back.
“What time is it?” You asked as Chad thanked you for the drink.
“Almost midnight” he answered looking at his phone.
“Great, I can go home soon. I told myself to at least stay till midnight” you giggled, starting the nurse of your drink till you could leave.
“You’re leaving soon? Are you not having fun?” He looked concerned.
“I’m having decent fun, I just thought there would be more going on” you shrugged.
More like you thought you’d have more opportunities to get close to Chad and spend some time with him but in reality all you were doing was torturing yourself. Watching him talk to the dozens of girls who shamelessly flirted with him all night to which Mindy made gagging noises. You weren’t sure if she truly found it disgusting or if she was just trying to make you feel better.
“You can’t leave so early, the party’s just getting started! There’s still a lot to happen tonight” Chad tried to convince you.
“I’m finishing my drink and then I’m out” you laughed “not a lot of action tonight” you watched his reaction carefully.
He gave you a look as if to say ‘oh please’ before he spoke again.
“Please, all these guys are probably falling to their knees for a chance with you. Especially when you came out looking like that” he put emphasis on the last word.
“Excuse me?” You asked, unsure of the meaning of his words.
“It’s a compliment, I’m saying you look beautiful” he laughed, a wide smile on his face.
“Oh” a blush filled your face, entirely too fast for your liking. “Thank you, but that’s not the problem” you reached into your pocket and took out all the little slips of paper, napkins, cards and anything else guys could get their hands on to give you their phone number when you hadn’t asked for it and laid them on the counter.
Chad watched with a clenched jaw as you spread them out in front of him.
“So what’s the issue with tonight then?” His gaze pierced you, there was something intense about it.
“Nothing it-“ you had finally decided to take the plunge and let him in a little on how you had been feeling…that was until you were interrupted.
“I’m sorry, excuse me?” A tall blonde male asked as he smiled.
“Can I help you?” You asked, trying not to show any emotion.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to be my beer pong partner?” The blonde asked nervously as he eyed you up and down.
“No…thanks” you glanced towards Chad, hoping he would get the hint you felt uncomfortable and wanted his help.
“Oh ok. I mean we can go for a walk or something if you’d like?” The blonde tried again.
“Yeah sure” Chad started as he slipped an arm around your waist. “A walk sounds nice, doesn’t it babe?” He smiled at you.
“Got it” the blonde slightly raised his eyebrows and turned away hastily.
“Told you, you looked beautiful” Chad chuckled.
“Thank you” you breathed a laugh, pressing your head against his shoulder. “He made me uncomfortable”
“I could tell” he said lowly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you either”
“He’s just being a guy” you giggled, lifting your head and noticing the grip he had on your waist stayed firm.
“Yeah, well it pissed me off” he was aggravated.
“Why? It’s not like he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole”
“Right, it was you. And that’s even worse” his voice rose more.
“How could that possibly be worse?” You asked with a shake of your head.
“No one should look at you like that” he said seriously.
“Chad” you started with a hand on the side of his neck. “There’s only one guy I want to look at me like that” you took a leap and finally laid a little bit out on the table, hoping you were right about the vibes he was putting out.
“I swear, if you say another guys name right now I’ll-“ he started as he slammed his eyes shut and tilted his head back.
“Chad” you laughed, pulling his head down to look at you as he opened his eyes. “Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t know how crazy I’ve been about you”
“I had no idea” a smile spread on his face.
“I’ve done nothing short of throwing myself at you” you rolled your eyes.
“I didn’t want to read too much into it, you know get my hopes up and all that”
“Maybe you should have read into it more” you joked.
“Maybe I should have because maybe I could have been doing this” he pressed a slow kiss to your lips. “The whole time” he breathed out, taking in every feature of your face.
“Well…since it seems like this is all your fault, you have some time to make up for, sir” you grinned at him.
“Happily” he said comically before pulling you into another kiss. “It’s midnight by the way” he said against your lips.
“Guess it’s my time to go home” you smiled, pulling away from him fully.
“Seriously?” He looked at you, disbelief written all over his face as you turned away from him.
“Well, are you coming with me or not?” You held out a hand to him with a smirk on your face.
“Oh baby, I’m right behind you” he gripped your hand and let you lead the way.
“Good” you said with a small laugh as you tugged him through the party. “Because you’re definitely right” you stopped him outside of the front door to kiss him again quickly. “There’s still a lot to happen tonight”
“I’m a stupid, stupid man for not telling you how into you I was sooner” he grinned, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make it up to you” he kissed your lips quickly. “All. Night” he said between kisses.
“Deal” you giggled, moving to tug him towards your apartment again.
A/N: please feel free to send me requests! Trying to get back into the feel of writing! 🖤🤍🖤
#scream fanfic#scream vi#scream 6#scream#scream 2022#chad meeks martin#chad Meeks-Martin#chad meeks martin x reader#mason gooding
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silly little something about max & daniel watching 'how to build a sex room'. day 6 of the 12 days of maxiel advent calendar for @catofthecanals289
"I think this lady thinks she is much more kinky than actually she is."
It's winter break, which means they are in the middle of the rare collection of lazy weeks, that feel both endless and never quite enough. During this time they can be normal people, can spend days getting tanned- or sun burnt, in Max’s case- and evenings lounging on sofas, cuddled close despite Australia's scorching summer, can drink a beer and watch crappy TV.
Like, 'how to build a sex room.'
Max's head lifts from where it was resting on Daniel's chest to give his scathing review of Melanie, the British host who is strangely obsessed with floggers. The rest of his body stays tucked securely underneath Daniel's arm, where it belongs.
"I don't know baby," Daniel says, shrugging only one shoulder so as not to jostle Max around. His fingertips trace patterns across the top of Max’s pale arms, imaginary tattoos Daniel would like the idea of putting there, if the idea of defacing Max’s skin wasn’t worse. "There are like, different levels of kink I guess."
Max snorts, apparently unimpressed by Daniel's reasonings.
"This, of course, I know," he says petulantly, "but why is she always pulling out her metal butt plug like it is the wildest thing ever. I know even people who are not gay use those. Martin does."
Daniel laughs at Max’s idea of not kinky being his world famous DJ friend, who must have a shag in every major city. The sound bounces around the ranch’s living room, the entire house having become an echo chamber of happiness recently, their giggles never too far away.
"Well, not everyone can be as wild as you, Max Verstappen," he says easily, watching Melanie reveal another sex dungeon that must have a few too many clichés for Max’s liking, if the way he wrinkles his nose up at it is any indication. "Not everyone can be as lucky as me, I guess."
This seems to please Max. Enough to have a pink flush spread across the top of his cheekbones, and for him to watch the remainder of the show with significantly fewer critiques. It gives Daniel time to ponder.
Butt plugs, spanking and handcuffs were all things he didn't try until his late twenties. Until Max, really, until he had someone in his bed enough nights in a row that it felt safe to bring up ideas of what he might want or like, outside of head and a good fuck. Things he’d been worried would be too strange, would say something about him to strangers he wasn’t quite ready to say to himself.
Max, on the other hand, had been shameless. Since the very first time Daniel had braved a conversation starting with, ‘don’t you think it could be fun to try,’ he had been willing and ready for any of Daniel’s wants, but he’d also wanted in return. Had opened his eyes to a whole new collection of Max’s desires only for them to become Daniel’s too.
It is one of the thing Daniel loves so much about him. Not his kinkiness, but how he is never ashamed of being anything other than wholly himself.
"I still do not understand why there is the room," Max half mumbles, his voice bringing Daniel back to the TV. His lips catch on Daniel's nipple as he speaks. Its too hot for t-shirts. "Can these people not just be kinky in their bed?"
Daniel hums, considering. Then, thinking back to comments both their sisters have made-
"Maybe it's hard," he suggests, "like if they have kids and stuff."
Then again, because he's feeling brave-
"Maybe we'll be commissioning Melanie to build us a whole sex house, you know, when we have little terrors."
Max's breathing catches; Daniel sees the way it stops and then shudders out from his chest in one long exhale. When he rolls his head back to look up at Daniel again, his cheeks are pinker, but his smile softest one he knows how to curve his mouth into, reserved usually for their nieces and nephews.
"Okay," is all he says, like it really is that easy. Daniel still remembers realising years ago and with a shock, that for them maybe it could be. "A sex house, for when we have babies. I'm holding you to that promise."
“Deal,” Daniel says, holding this his hand up for Max to shake. The awkward angle of it while cuddled together makes them both laugh again, and Daniel can’t resist letting the laughter linger by tickling Max’s side.
There are no more serious questions to ask about their future that they don’t already know the answer too, deep down. Some things in life have been a given to him since Max Verstappen joined Red Bull Racing; he was going to be a world champion, Daniel was not, and they were going to spend their lives loving each other in spite of that. Whatever each of them wanted that life to look like, the other would be on board.
There are some things Daniel doesn’t know though. Some things he has to ask. Like-
“Can it be cowboy themed?”
#i've not had time to reread this so any errors etc are my own#its just something silly and fun#max/daniel#fic
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The different reaction on Sansa-Tyrion marriage by Brienne and Hound shows who is likely to gonna be knight to Sansa. Brienne was horrified by the news and likely believe that Sansa was innocent of killing Joffery. Whereas Sandor think that he should have raped her before her marriage.
Only Brienne is looking for Sansa actively and worried about her wellbeing. Hound didn't care about her after terrorizing her and left her to mercy of Lannisters.
That’s such an important contrast! I haven't read looking for them, but there are many moments that seem like a direct comparison of the two:
"True knights protect the weak."
He snorted. "There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don't ever believe any different."
Sansa backed away from him. "You're awful." (ACOK, Sansa IV)
vs
He could have tried, Brienne thought. He could have died. Old or young, a true knight is sworn to protect those who are weaker than himself, or die in the attempt. (AFFC, Brienne VI)
And this:
Sansa could not bear the sight of him, he frightened her so, yet she had been raised in all the ways of courtesy. A true lady would not notice his face, she told herself. "You rode gallantly today, Ser Sandor," she made herself say.
Sandor Clegane snarled at her. "Spare me your empty little compliments, girl … and your ser's. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight. Did you see him ride today?" (AGOT, Sansa II)
vs
So far he had been true to his word, and Brienne had been true to hers. Podrick had not complained. Every time he raised a new blister on his sword hand, he felt the need to show it to her proudly. He took good care of their horses too. He is still no squire, she reminded herself, but I am no knight, no matter how many times he calls me "ser." She would have sent him on his way, but he had nowhere to go. Besides, though Podrick said he did not know where Sansa Stark had gone, it might be that he knew more than he realized. Some chance remark, half-remembered, might hold the key to Brienne's quest. (AFFC, Brienne III)
They could not be more different! Brienne is really set off well against the backdrop of the total failure of other knights, and her desire to live up to the ideals Sansa cherishes seems like a sign that we’re to recognize that it isn’t the standard, but the failure to meet the standard, that’s the problem.
I've had Hound fans come into my inbox to argue about his intentions and whether he was being honest or not about his intention to rape her, but we all read him hold Sansa against her will on the bed, put a knife to her throat and demand "a song" and Martin uses that euphemism again when Sansa is assaulted again. I think it's pretty clear what that was.
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YOUR BLOG>>>>
i had a chad idea that i think you would write so well!! can you please do a singer!reader x chad fic where the reader is a famous singer and chad goes their concerts and already knows all the words to the songs and he’s just super fun and supportive?
thank you so much!
this is such a cute idea <3 i used to dream of being a singer when i was a kid (until i realized i was bad LOL) so this kinda felt nostalgic for some reason. i’ve also never been to a concert so sorry if it’s not accurate!
100 follower event
warnings: mentions of ghostface murders, kissing, established relationship, takes place (kinda) way into the future lol, not proofread i apologize
voice — chad meeks-martin
Chad had never been more proud in his life.
You’re in the dressing room, sitting at the vanity mirror about two hours before the show starts. You’d been talking to Chad who is sitting on the tiny couch while you bounce with nervousness in your seat. It’s your biggest show yet, and though you’ve performed time and time again during the tour, the fact that it’s thousands of people coming to see you still makes you giddy.
“God, I’m fucking nervous.” You look to him with those puppy eyes that endeared you to him when you first met in college.
He stands up and walks over to you, cupping your cheek. “I’m so proud of you, alright?”
You smile, putting your hands around his torso. (You’ll never get used to the feeling of his abs.)
“How did I get so lucky, hm?” You whisper. “I can’t believe you’re here.” And he knows you’re not just referring to how he’s gone overseas, paying out of his own pocket—though you offered to pay, he refused—just to see you perform. (You still gave him a discount.) You’re also referring to everything you’ve gone through together, including the ghostface murders.
“I think that’s my line,” he grins. “You’ll do great out there, by the way. I’ll be down there singing along, as always. And…I gotta go.”
“Do you really have to go?”
“You know I have to, I need to get a good view.”
“You always have a good view of me, though.”
“Oh, yeah?” He snickers, leaning in for a kiss.
“Yeah.” You slot your lips over his, melding together perfectly as it always had been.
You pull back first, and he almost whines.
“You’re the one who said you have to go, remember? Get a good view.” You tap his chest as he pouts.
“Well, Anika’s probably coming soon anyway. I don’t wanna face her wrath.”
For previous concerts, you hired Anika as your head costume designer as she studied fashion design and it worked out well because you were already friends—so you decided to take her on tour as part of the team.
As if on cue, the door opens and Anika is standing at there, beautiful as ever.
“Hey,” Chad drags out the word, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Look who we have here, what a surprise, eh?”
Anika rolls her eyes, unsurprised at Chad’s antics, almost annoyed. But the slight upturn of her lips says otherwise. “Go. They need to get dressed, dingus.”
As she pushes him out of the room, he exclaims, “Dingus is my thing!” while the door closes on him.
“How do you feel now that he’s your brother-in-law?”
She scoffs, laughing. “Don’t remind me.”
-
Chad chants your name along with the crowd, cheering as you appear on stage and began to sing the first song.
Your voice is still as angelic as the first time he heard it in freshman year during karaoke night. He practically swoons when you spot him in the crowd and flash him a smile, people around him screaming as they might have thought it was them you looked at, but he will always know that smile is for him. Only him.
He watches you play the crowd as if it’s your birthright. The audience sing with you, the packed stadium lighting up with the glowing wristbands given at the start of the show.
It’s at the end of the setlist when you begin to talk.
“Before the last song, I would just like to play something extra,” You say, out of breath from the performance. The audience cheers. “This song isn’t even released yet, so I don’t know how it’s gonna go—I didn’t rehearse.” You laugh.
Chad wonders what song it is—you didn’t tell him, typically he’d know if you planned to do something different.
“I wanna dedicate it to somebody in the audience, somebody who…” You scan your eyes to find him in the crowd, and everyone around him gawks. “Somebody who has supported me from the beginning, right there,” You point, and he laughs out of disbelief. “Chad, I love you.”
After a brief moment, you add, “And please don’t make fun of his name, it’s a sensitive topic.”
They laugh as the song begins to play, the boom of the bass overtaking the speakers, and your voice floods the area once again.
Tears line his eyes. You’d played this song for him only once before, but it was so long ago. It was in his dorm room, a few nights after he’d asked you to be his and you gathered the courage to show him songs you’ve worked on. Albeit the original was much less refined, only the bare bones of it, but he’d seen your potential and pushed you to start getting gigs at small places.
The nostalgia takes over like a wave. A tear falls, and unbeknownst to him, a fan films his reaction and posts it even before the concert ends.
-
DELETED SCENE
In your hotel room, you’re awake before Chad. You admire his sleeping features for a moment before you open your phone to see a text message from Anika.
Anika bby <3
saw this on instagram
[Attachment: 1 Video]
You press play, and end up tapping your boyfriend awake.
“Hm?” He murmurs groggily, sleep dripping off his voice. “What?” He rubs his eyes, and stares at you, trying to hold in a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He asks.
“You cried last night?” You coo, and can’t help but giggle when he props himself up on his elbow a little too quickly and gets lightheaded.
“Who told you?”
You hand him the phone wordlessly.
He squints while the headache goes away, eyes widening when he finally sees clearly.
He grins at you, “So, what? Can I not cry over the love of my life dedicating a song to me?”
“You’re such a sap,” though you tease him, the prospect warms your heart.
And though he laughs, there’s a ring burning through a hole in his suitcase; if you’re calling him a sap now, he wonders what you’ll do when he makes his speech for your hand in marriage.
#chad meeks martin#chad meeks-martin#chad meeks fluff#chad meeks martin x reader#scream 6 x reader#scream 6#scream vi#scream#scream x reader
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don’t be afraid to jump then fall
part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/alexmeeksmartin/716114654174314497/enchanted-to-meet-you
pairing: chad meeks-martin x gn reader
synopsis: the one where y/n fully joins the friend group. also the one where quinn accidentally meddles, anika and mindy deliberately meddle, and sam puts her advice out there.
a/n: i’m kinda feeling like making this a cute little miniseries, open to any suggestions ofc !i definitely feel more comfortable writing even now, also i am open for requests !
wc: 2.7k
it had been just over a month since you’d met anika’s friends, and you had pretty much become an integral part of the group already. you and mindy realised you had your film studies class together, and ethan’s free periods aligned perfectly with yours, allowing for a lot more studying and hanging out together. you had to admit that it was nice, the regular dinners at tara and sam’s place, mindy frequently coming in and out of your apartment, and going to the gym with tara. you slotted perfectly into the group. but, nicest of all was the opportunity to see chad.
ever since meeting him, you and chad had constant laughs with each other. he was a spark that could brighten up your gloomiest of days, and you felt the tension between the two of you rising more and more as the days pass.
it was a friday evening in your apartment as anika and you were getting ready to go round to tara & sam’s apartment for movie night. anika made her way into the bathroom, seeing you delicately fixing your hair and checking your overall appearance.
“y/n, babe, it’s a movie night. you do not need to be doing all of… well this. chad is still gonna stare as soon as you walk through the door regardless.” anika states with a playful tone, removing you from your transfixion on your appearance.
“i am not doing this for chad, anika.” you retort, turning around and making eye contact with anika, your roommate staring at you with raised eyebrows. you throw your hands up in defeat before looking back to the mirror. “okay, it is for chad. but i can’t look bad, ani, like this is very important!”
anika gently pulls your hands away from your hair before directing you out of the bathroom. she sits you on the couch and then starts speaking again, “y/n, that boy is like the definition of enamoured and infatuated when it comes to you. he is obsessed, and will continue to be.” she continues, making her way into your kitchen, “so, stop stressing about how you’re going to look for a movie night of all things, and just relax.”
“fine.” you huff, “but also, ani, that is complete hypocrisy, we both know just how much time you’d spend getting ready just for one night at mindy’s place before you guys were official!”
“now that is different!” anika replies, beginning to laugh. her infectious smile makes its way into you as well, and before you know it the two of you are giggling with each other. anika was right in fairness, you always stressed before seeing chad, it was a habit that needed to stop. “anyways, i need to shower.”
tara opens the door, a wide smile across her face. “hey, guys, come in!” she says, “that’s anika and y/n here now, sam, you can put the popcorn on!” tara yelled through to her sister.
“sorry for taking so long, but a certain someone takes thirty minutes in the shower.” you say, playfully blaming the two of you’s lateness in anika.
“hey, just because i like to perform in the shower.” anika mumbles in response as you put your coats away and take your shoes off.
“it’s a shower, not a theatre, babes.”
the pair of you walk into the living room, seeing mindy situated on one end of a couch, and ethan on the other, mindy having clearly reserved a spot for anika. beside them, tara makes herself comfortable in a bean bag and sam’s blanket wrapped over the armchair, leaving the only open seat in the room beside chad on the two-seater. a seat you‘re very grateful to have exist.
after greeting everyone else, you make your way to sit down beside chad. “this spot taken?” you ask jokingly.
“yep, saving it for my lovely friend, y/n- oh wait.” he responds, the two of you laughing at his lame joke.
you sit down beside him, curling up in the corner of the seat. “had a nice day?” chad asks.
“eh, it’s been okay. just been studying for my exam pretty much so i’m deadly tired. what about you?” you politely answer.
“pretty good, better now that i’m seeing you.” he flirts, and you hear a giggle erupt from where anika & mindy are sitting.
sam makes her way back into the room, greeting you and anika with a hug before sitting herself down. “so, what are we watching?” she asks, turning on the tv.
“wrong turn!” mindy exclaims from her seat, receiving confused looks from across the room. “what?”
“wrong turn?” tara repeats as a question.
“wrong turn. you know, the one where those college students and that doctor get lost in west virginia and are hunted by mutated inbred cannibals?”
“no, i don’t.” tara laughs, as everyone else begins to agree.
“i’ve never watched it, but i have actually heard of it.” you chuck into conversation. “thank you, y/n! i’m glad i’m not the only cultured individual in this room.” mindy replies, tara sticking her tongue out at them.
“i say a romcom!” chad butts in, only for ethan to also give his input, “but you guys said you’d watch star wars with me!” earning a laugh from you.
eventually, mindy convinces you all to settle on wrong turn. you watch the first third of the movie, but quickly finding yourself falling asleep, exhausted from revising all day. chad notices, and without you noticing moves himself along the couch slightly so that you fall asleep on his shoulder.
after a while, the movie finishes, and both you and chad have nothing to say about it. after you fell asleep on chad, he barely took his eyes off of you the entire movie, constantly checking that you were comfortable, and that none of the loud noises were startling you.
“so, who’s up for some pizza?” tara asks, receiving nods of agreement from the whole group. the group begin to organise themselves to go down to the pizza place, but chad remains seated. mindy and anika make their way over to you and chad, clearly on a mission.
“chad, i’m gonna need you to come with us.” mindy demands. “why? tara and ethan are already going too.”
“anika and i want to have a conversation with you.” she states with a very serious tone of voice.
“but y/n is sleeping. like sleeping on me.” chad protests, “do you not think i can see that?” mindy bluntly asks.
“well, i can’t fucking move, can i?!” chad whisper-yells at his sister as anika cuts in, “if y/n can sleep through the screams that we heard in that movie, i think you can move yourself off of the couch, chad. also, this isn’t a request. you’re coming with us.”
“fine.” chad sighs, then beginning to very delicately move you off of him and putting all of your weight onto the couch. chad leaves with mindy, anika, tara, and ethan, but not before a final glance to you.
only minutes later, you wake up to a redhead girl standing in front of you, seemingly studying you and giving you a jump, causing you to let out a small scream.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry, i did not mean to scare you!” she says, also having jumped at your startled wake.
“who are you?!” you shout at her, as sam rushes back into the room. ”um, you’re the one in my apartment.” the girl retorts.
“guys, calm down. y/n, this is our roommate, quinn. and quinn, this is tara’s friend, y/n.” sam explains, your breathing finally steadying.
“wait-“ quinn begins, her eyes wide with excitement. “like, chad’s y/n? anika’s roommate y/n?!” she asks sam.
“quinn!” sam says with a glare.
“was i not supposed to say that or-“ quinn continues, but you finally process what was just said. “what do you mean by ‘chad’s y/n’? also, where is everyone?”
“she means nothing by it, y/n. and they should be back in about twenty minutes, they’re just getting pizza. you like just basic cheese pizza, don’t you, y/n?” sam asks, clearly evading your first question.
“yeah, but still, what did you mean by ‘chad’s y/n’?” you ask quinn again. the redhead looks to sam, who sighs and nods at her. “you might as well, quinn.”
“well, i just meant cause y’know, you and chad kinda have a thing going… from what tara said at least.” quinn tells you. of course tara had told her, tara, like anika, had been constantly badgering you with support to get with chad. however, you were reluctant for a multitude of reasons: was he serious about things, were you sure of your feelings or were you just caught up in a guy paying you attention, and most importantly, can you coexist with his grief for liv.
“that adds up, i guess.” you say. “wait so what is going on there? is it a thing?” quinn asks.
“i mean, i’d like to know as well.” sam chips in from her armchair.
you begin to gather your thoughts. “so, anika and mindy both say that chad has a bit of a crush on me, and both ethan and tara seem to agree. but, i don’t know what to do about it. of course i’m attracted to him too-“
quinn adds, “who wouldn’t be?”
“-but i don’t know if he’s serious. or if i am for that matter. i also don’t know if he’s dealt with his grief for liv enough to focus on me. i don’t know, i’m an overthinker and i stress myself out about this stuff-“
“just go for it.” quinn says, getting up from the couch. “a wise man once told me ‘you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’. so, just go. you like him on a level, he likes you. anyways, i should probably get back to paul. nice to meet you!”
“you too.” you reply as she leaves the room. “she’s a bit of a character, isn’t she?”
“she means well. also, i agree with her. go for it, chad’s a super sweet guy. he wouldn’t take you for granted in any way. don’t be afraid to jump then fall, y/n. you both deserve it.” sam advises.
“thanks for the tips, really sweet sam,” you begin sarcastically. “but i don’t know if you’re the best person to give romance advice on considering tara says you’ve been staring at ‘cute boy’ across the hall for months.” you say, laughing at sam’s predicament.
sam sighs. “i feel like i can trust you, y/n. i can trust you, right?” sam asks.
“of course.”
“swear to me that you will not discuss this with anyone. not even tara.” sam says with a stones expression.
“i swear that i won’t disclose this to anyone.”
“i’ve been sleeping with ‘cute boy’ from across the hall.” sam says, your mouth dropping open. “oh my god, it feels so nice to finally tell someone.” sam sighs in relief.
“seriously, sam?” you say, mouth still agape.
“seriously.”
“she shoots, she scores.” you say, walking across the room to give her a high five. you sit closer to her, both of you getting ready to delve deep into your love lives.
outside of the pizza place, chad, anika, and mindy wait for ethan and tara to emerge with the food.
“so…” chad starts, “what did you ‘need’ to talk to me about?”
“y/n, duh.” mindy bluntly answers.
“what about y/n?” chad asks, defensive.
“chad, we’re not idiots. we can all tell that there is something going on there.” anika states. “plus, mindy knows you like y/n. like you like like y/n.”
“i don’t-“
“you do.” mindy cuts in. “and knowing you, it’s weird you haven’t made a proper move yet. so, what’s going on?”
“i don’t know if y/n likes me back like that. i mean, sometimes i feel like we’re flirting but y/n also talks to ethan in the exact same way.”
“that’s why you haven’t made a move? seriously? y/n adores you, chad. you realise that, right? y/n spent almost an entire hour picking out what to wear tonight and sitting in front of the mirror, just for you to be impressed.” anika says, mindy nodding along to her girlfriend’s words.
“fuck, mindy, you couldn’t have told me this earlier?” chad questions his sister.
“what? it’s not my fault that you can’t pick up on very obvious social cues. in fact, so obvious that everybody else picked up on it.” mindy retorts, with tara and ethan exiting the pizzeria.
“did you sort whatever’s going on with him and y/n?” tara asks the girls.
“come on, it’s not that obvious.” chad says, receiving looks that say ‘are you serious?’ from the girls. “ethan, back me up.”
“sorry, man, they’re right.” ethan shrugs.
“…i mean, i just don’t feel like i’m ready for a relationship yet.” sam says, telling you about danny.
“well, like you said, ‘don’t be afraid to jump then fall’, sam.” you respond as the rest of the group re-enters the apartment.
“so, who do i owe?” you ask.
“it’s fine.” chad answers.
“yeah, chad already paid your share.” mindy says, her eyes widening, chad also becoming a bit flustered.
“oh, thanks! i can still pay you back, though?” you ask, feeling slightly guilty.
“nah, don’t worry about it.” he says. you send a smile of gratitude his way before you all sit down to eat.
“so, y/n, enjoy the movie?” tara asks sarcastically.
“oh, shut up.” you say, laughing.
“i thought that you’d have some real insightful comments and analysis to add.” mindy playfully adds.
“you wouldn’t have fallen asleep if we watched star wars…” ethan mutters under his breath.
“oh, please, star wars would’ve had me passed out within the first ten minutes.” sam chips in, having heard ethan’s comment.
as the group devolves into nonsensical chatter, chad taps you on the shoulder. “you wanna go for a walk?” he asks.
“sure.” you say, with a smidge of anxiety creeping into your mind, unsure of what he wants to speak about.
you two make your way out into the cold night air, making small talk until you reach a bench, sitting down.
“um, so i wanted to talk to you…” he trails off. you’d never seen him like this, he was always in a very confident and relaxed state. not this kind of shy and awkward guy that was sitting before you.
“about?” you ask, encouraging him to go on.
“i like you.” he says, waiting to gage your reaction before continuing. your eyes light up and he continues, “i like the way i can’t keep my focus around you. your laugh might just be the best sound i’ve ever heard. when you speak it’s like i hear the words, but all i’m thinking is that we should be together. i know it’s cheesy, but every time i see you smile, i smile. above everything, i guess i just like the way you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”
it’s like you’re in a trance, absolutely speechless. “shit, i shouldn’t have said anything-“ chad’s doubtful words snap you out of it, finally processing what was being said to you. “it’s fine, can we just stay-“
you cut him off with a kiss, pulling him in. your lips make contact, and you passionately embrace each other for a moment before breaking it off.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you say, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. chad was serious. all the doubts that had been clouding your mind had been blown away.
you two walk hand in hand back to the apartment, chad giving you his jacket on the way back due to you shivering. you open the door to the apartment, seeing five hopeful and expectant faces on entering.
“what are the faces for?” you ask, confused.
“so… what did you guys talk about?” anika asks, trying to cover up a giggle.
chad looks to you for approval before giving the news, you nodding in return.
“well, we will both be unavailable on wednesday night.” he says, “because we will be on our first date.”
the group erupts in cheers, as you give chad a little peck on the lips. sam was right, you thought to yourself. sometime the best thing to do is to is jump then fall.
a/n: i don’t think i like this anymore but practice is good i guess, hope you enjoyed !
#Spotify#scream x reader#chad meeks martin#chad meeks x reader#mindy meeks martin#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#anika kayoko#ethan landry#quinn bailey#scream#scream vi#scream 6
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Heartbeat on the Highline
She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need.
AKA, the one in which Emily and Aaron get a call that their daughter has had to go to hospital whilst they are away on a case.
-x-
Hi besties <3
This is a fic I started a long time ago and never really got anywhere with beyond one particular scene, but I finally reopened the document today and finished it.
This fic brings my total word count to 1,736,161...which is more than the entire Game of Thrones book series (1,736,054) . Which is ridiculous and amazing and...just about everything in between. If George R. R. Martin ever actually releases the next book in A Song of Fire and Ice I guess I'll just have to beat him again!!
Thank you so much for your continued support of my writing, it means the absolute world. As long as y'all are here reading, I'll be here thinking of new things to put these two through!
Please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings: Sick child, hospitals
Words: 4.3k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily grimaces as she takes a sip of her coffee, looking down at the mug in her hand with disdain as she swallows.
“Leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it?”
She smiles as she looks up at her husband, “It’s not the worst we’ve ever had,” she mumbles, taking another sip and grimacing at the bitterness, “But it’s up there.”
It had been a long day that had started with a phone call from Penelope before dawn. They were dragged out of sleep and their bed for a case. Aaron had called Jessica to ask her to come over to look after the kids as Emily got ready for the day, distracted partway through her make-up routine by their toddler crying out for her. Ines had been grumpy, the 18-month-old’s usual happy demeanour nowhere to be found as she demanded her mother’s attention, her slightly too warm forehead against Emily’s neck as she refused to be put back down.
As they’d left the house and she’d handed her little girl over to Jessica she explained that Ines had a bit of a temperature. Familiar guilt had lingered in her belly all day, the reality of balancing her love for her job and her love for her children something she was never sure she got right. Leaving behind her daughter when she wasn’t quite herself made her heart feel heavy, a weight in her chest that she knew wouldn’t lessen until she was home again.
Aaron smiles at her and nods towards the front of the bullpen, “Come on, the sooner we deliver the profile, the sooner we catch this guy. And then we can go home.”
She nods and downs the rest of her coffee, putting her mug down before she follows her husband. She stops as her phone rings from her pocket and she pulls it out, her momentary joy at her wallpaper, a picture of Jack and Ines cuddled together on the couch, is immediately squashed. She feels a sense of dread when she sees Jessica’s name appear on her cellphone screen. It roots her to the spot, her limbs heavy, her grip on her phone tightening as everything else around her fades out, the sound of the rest of the team delivering the profile muffled as if she was behind glass.
They had a routine. If they were away on a case Jessica would always send a text to check if they were free before she called so Emily and Aaron could say goodnight to Jack and Ines when they were away on a case. They would step away from whatever they were doing, she and Aaron huddled together around one of their phones as they spoke to their children just before they went to bed, an ache in her chest that Emily learnt never quite went away when one of them told her they missed her.
This was different. It was only 5.45 pm, too early for either of them to be going to bed, even Ines, the 18-month-old well known for being occasionally defiant for anyone other than Emily when it came to bedtime.
She shakes her head at herself, ridding herself of thoughts she’s sure are an overreaction and she briefly looks up, her gaze catching Aaron’s. She tilts her head towards the hallway she’s near and holds up her phone to tell him she has to take a call. He nods, his smile as reassuring as it was subtle, something only she would ever be able to pick up on. She answers as she steps away, not wanting the call to ring out, her instincts that something was wrong still vibrating under her skin.
“Jess, hi,” she answers, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she’s far enough away from everyone else that she won’t be overheard, “Is everything ok? You don’t usually call this early.”
“Emily,” Jessica replies, and Emily immediately knows she’s right, that something has happened. Her training and profession both a blessing and a curse as she picks up on the poorly concealed concern in the other woman’s voice, “I’m so sorry to have you call you and tell you this, but Ines is in the hospital.”
Emily feels like all of the air has been stolen from her lungs. Her breath catches in her chest, hooking onto her ribs in a way thats painful. She leans against the wall she’d been standing near, suddenly not trusting her legs to hold her up. Her shoulders press into the plaster, the coolness of it through her shirt barely registering.
Something was wrong with her little girl and she was hours away from her. “Wh…what?” She asks, her voice hoarse. “What happened, is she hurt?”
“No, she didn’t hurt herself,” Jessica says, her voice calmer now, naturally falling into the role of the caretaker she often filled, clearly picking up on Emily’s unusual display of panic, “She spiked a fever and I couldn’t get it down with Tylenol or anything else and,” she pauses, blowing out a breath before she continues, “She had a seizure.”
Whatever she thought Jessica was going to say it wasn’t that. Her stomach churns and she immediately feels sick, the distance between herself and home further than it had ever felt, the guilt she felt for leaving, even for work, when she’d known Ines wasn’t entirely herself that morning overwhelming.
“Oh my God,” Emily exclaims, her hand coming to cover her mouth, her nausea climbing up her throat. Before she can say anything else Jessica continues, giving her more details she doesn’t know how to ask for.
“The doctors said she’s okay, it was brought on by the fever. It seems to be an ear infection and they are treating it now, they are also going to do other tests to make sure it isn’t anything else.”
“Okay,” Emily says, her throat dry, all of her efforts channelled into not bursting into tears in the middle of a police precinct. She clears her throat and swallows thickly, pushing down the bile that feels like it’s climbing up her throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, can you stay with her until I get there?”
She knows she doesn’t have to ask, that Jessica considers Ines as her niece as much as Jack is her nephew, but she does because she can’t think of what else to say.
“Of course,” Jessica says, “I’ll text you the details of where we are.”
“Thank you,” Emily breathes out, trying to steady herself, her nerves frayed to the point where they might snap. She’s immediately hit by another thought, cursing herself for not thinking of her son sooner, “Fuck, is Jack ok? Was he there when she…”
She drifts off, sure if she said outloud that her daughter, her baby, had had a seizure she would fall apart right there. That pieces of her would spill out onto the coffee-stained carpet beneath her feet, something she couldn’t let happen until she saw her little girl, until she made sure she was okay.
“He saw it happen,” Jessica says carefully, “He was scared but he’s okay now Ines is ok, he’s in there now reading to her.”
Emily chokes out a laugh that sounds strangled, caught in her throat in all of the fear lodged there, and she nods despite the fact Jessica cannot see her.
“Good, I’m glad he’s okay,” She blows out a steady breath and she looks up as she hears footsteps, her smile tight as she sees her husband enter the hallway she’d sought solitude in.
Regret fills her chest at the thought of what she has to tell him and she turns her attention back to Jessica on the other end of the phone. “I should go, but let me know if anything else happens ok?”
“Of course.”
Emily later wouldn’t remember if she said goodbye to Jessica, or anything beyond turning so she’s looking at Aaron properly, his eyebrows creased as he picks up on her demeanour, how something was clearly wrong.
“Em?” He asks, stepping closer to her. His hand reaches out and wraps around hers, linking their fingers together in a way he usually wouldn’t at work, instantly providing comfort that she never has to ask for. He was always there, ready and waiting, aware of her needs often before she was, “Is everything okay?”
She shakes her head in response. “No,” she swallows thickly and squeezes his hand in return, “It isn’t,” she clenches her teeth and presses her lips together, determined not to lose her composure, “That was Jess, Ines is sick. She’s in hospital.”
It feels like a jolt of electricity, a rush of adrenaline that makes him feel frozen in place, sending a shiver up his spine. His stomach churns, the mere mention of his little girl being unwell enough makes him feel sick. He looks at his wife and he knows he has to pull it together. She was always the strong one, always the glue that held him together, but he knew their family, their children, were her weak spot. The chink in her impenetrable armour. She was barely holding herself together, the emotions he can see she is desperately trying to hide showing through the cracks in her facade.
He could fall apart later when they knew their daughter was okay, when they were home and by her side.
“What happened?” He asks, stepping closer, making sure he is providing all the comfort he can.
“She has an ear infection, her fever spiked so high she had a seizure,” her voice cracks on the last word and she looks at the ceiling, willing the tears she can feel gathering in her eyes to disappear, “I need to go home, Aaron. I need to see my baby.”
It had never been in any doubt, the logistics of everything already playing out in the back of his mind as he stood there with his wife, “Of course, sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek with the hand not linked with his and briefly resting his forehead against hers, “Dave can take point here, we can get a flight-”
She looks at him, moving so fast she feels something pull in her neck, the pain barely registering.
“We can’t both leave,” she says, even though she wants him with her, her words contradicting everything she was feeling, “We’ve barely been here a day.”
She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need.
“Emily,” he says firmly, pushing down the spark of irritation in his gut at the implication that anything was more important than their family. He knows it’s unfair, that she’s like a frayed nerve right now, so he ignores it, aware she isn’t necessarily thinking straight, “There is no way I’m staying here when our daughter is in hospital. I’m coming with you. Okay?”
She pauses for a moment before she nods, “Okay,” she says, her lower lip trembling, “Can I…can I have a hug?”
It feels pathetic, like a ridiculous thing to ask her husband, but she asks anyway. Unsure what to do in this situation, this collision of their personal and professional lives, any pretence that they weren’t together, their relationship usually a point of interest to local cops if they figured out they were married, shattered on the floor around them.
“Oh Em,” he says, pulling her into a hug, his lips against her temple as she settles into his embrace, “You never have to ask,” he kisses the side of her head and then pulls back, “I’ll go speak to Dave and then we’ll go home to see our little girl.”
She nods, smiling tightly at him as she pulls back, her arms tight across her chest to hold herself together until he can do it for her again.
___
It feels like the longest flight of her life. Longer than the one that had brought her back from Paris, the flight that had brought her back from the dead, out of the place she had been hiding in the shadows for months whilst she waited for her demons to find her.
This is worse. Her fear not for herself, or coming face to face with the man who had torn through her life like it was made of something no stronger than paper, but for her little girl. For her son who had seen his sister get so sick so quickly. It was paralysing in a way she could never have anticipated, as if her heart was outside of her body. Walking around in the form of an 8-year-old boy and an 18-month-old little girl, a price she’d happily pay for the rest of her life in exchange for the joy she felt as a result of being their mother.
As soon as Aaron has parked up outside the hospital she’s out of the car, walking towards the entrance with a determination in her step. Aaron catches up with her, his hand wrapping around hers when he makes it to her side. He squeezes her hand, his fingers linked through hers as they walk into the hospital. They approach the nurse's station, Emily’s shoulders feeling tighter by the second.
“Excuse me,” Aaron says, his smile frustratingly polite despite the circumstances when one of the nurses looks up at him, “Our daughter was brought in earlier, Ines Hotchner?”
The nurse nods, typing on the computer in front of her before she looks back up at them, “She’s been admitted for observation,” she says, smiling reassuringly at them, “Paediatrics is on the fourth floor. She's in room 4102, the elevators are just down the hall.”
“Thank you,” Aaron replies, nodding before he turns around, his arm around Emily’s shoulders as he leads her towards the elevators, “Let’s go see our little girl.”
They take the stairs, both too anxious to wait for the elevator now they are so close. They give Ines’ details to the paediatrics desk, and for a moment Aaron is sure he’s going to have to stop his wife from yelling at a nurse for just doing his job when he asks for identification.
Emily takes a moment outside of the room they are directed to, giving herself a second to collect herself, aware that neither Jack nor Ines needed her to be a mess in front of them. Aaron places his hand on his wife’s shoulder, reminding her that he’s there, that he always would be. She puts her hand over his, hoping she can press her gratefulness, her love, from her skin into his.
She never quite had the words for how she felt about him, for how she felt about her life. She’d grown up surrounded by people who never said what they really thought, every word calculated and purposeful. It left her unable to always express herself in the way she desperately wanted to, the words I love you never feeling enough. Not even scratching the surface of how much she loved him and their children, how she would burn the world down to protect them.
She blows out a breath as she walks in, her heart seizing in her chest as she sees Ines, the toddler seemingly smaller than she usually was in the large bed she was sleeping in. Jack was asleep on the couch in the corner of the room, a blanket pulled over him and his arms hugging a cushion to his chest. Jessica turns to face the door as it opens, a relieved smile spreading over her face as she sees Emily and Aaron,
“Hi,” she says as she stands up, walking over and pulling Emily into a brief hug, “I’m so sorry, I should have brought her here sooner.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Emily says, hugging her back, “There’s no way you could have known what would happen.”
Aaron stores the comment away, making a mental note of it to remind her later when she inevitably blames herself for this, forever holding herself to a standard she’d never use against anybody else. Her concerns about turning into her own mother, something he knew was impossible, always lingering just below the surface. Breaking free through barely healed skin, pushing up through an always festering wound, whenever she considered herself a failure as a parent.
Emily disconnects from Jessica and walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. She looks at Ines, who, apart from the IV in the back of her hand, her soft skin bruised on her arm where she’d clearly had blood tests. Emily reaches out and brushes some of her unruly hair from her forehead, the softness of it against her fingers easing some of the tightness in her chest.
“The doctor said she’s fine, she should be able to go home tomorrow,” Jessica says, and Emily turns to look at her.
“Thank you, Jess. For looking after her and staying until we could get here,” Aaron says, pulling his former sister-in-law into a hug.
“Of course I stayed,” Jess says, rolling her eyes at him as she pulls back, her voice incredulous, “She’s my niece.”
Emily is about to respond, about to tell Jess how grateful she is regardless, how nice it was to know that her daughter was with someone who loved her until she could be there, but she’s cut off by a tiny voice.
“Mama?”
She turns back to look at Ines, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes meet her daughters, “Hi sweet girl,” she says, stroking her hand over her hair again, “Mama is here,” she says, her voice shaking a little, “How are you feeling?”
Ines shrugs, “Icky.”
Emily chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and she leans forward to kiss the toddler's forehead, “I’m sorry, baby. Mama is here now,” she says, not sure if she was reassuring herself more with the repetition of her assurance or her little girl. Ines grasps at the collar of her shirt, pulling her towards her with more force than she thought an 18-month-old should have. “Do you want me to snuggle with you?”
“Snuggle,” Ines says, nodding as she tugs on Emily’s shirt even more, and Emily kisses her forehead before she stands, carefully rearranging the little girl in the bed before she joins her. More of the tension in her chest unfurls as Ines leans against her, curling up in her mother’s arms, the little girl releasing a sigh as she rests her forehead against Emily’s neck. Ines looks over at Aaron, her smile wide like it always was when she looked at her father, “Hi Dada.”
“Hi princess,” he says, closing the gap between him and the bed as he leans in to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “Are you feeling better than earlier? Aunt Jessie said you weren’t very well.”
She shrugs, “Head hurt.”
“It’s all better now, though?” Emily asks, lost in her own world with her daughter, her awareness reduced to just the two of them in the bed for a few moments. She smiles as Ines nods against her neck, and she kisses her forehead, “Good. Mama loves you.”
Ines snuggles into her even further, getting heavier as she starts to fall asleep again, her words slurring together.
“Love Mama.”
___
They convince Jack to go home with Jess when he wakes up. It takes a while, the boy resistant to leave his sister’s side, but he eventually relents when they promise he’ll see her tomorrow. Emily and Aaron both stay at the hospital, both of them not wanting to let their little girl out of their sight, the latter using his badge to convince the nurses to let them break the usual ‘one parent overnight’ rule.
Aaron sits next to the bed, his focus on his wife as she watches their daughter sleep, her hand rubbing circles on her back.
He remembered when they found out they were having a girl, the mix of excitement and fear that had crossed over his wife’s face as she asked the doctor to repeat herself something that was burned into his memory. She’d quietly admitted to him later that same day that she was worried history would repeat itself, that she was cursed to be the same as her mother. He’d assured her it wasn’t the case, that she was already a better mother than hers had ever been, that she had been since the moment she’d stepped into that role in Jack’s life.
He knew moments like today she’d focus on the parts that seemingly confirmed her worst fears. That the distance between her and their daughter when she was sick was evidence that she was everything she hadn’t wanted to be. She wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that she’d got to her side as quickly as she could, that she’d glared at the air steward on the plane when he tried to make a joke about her nervous energy, or that she’d left work without even thinking about it. Her children her priority, the most important part of her life, which was something Elizabeth had never seemingly been capable of.
“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and quiet as he makes sure he doesn’t wake up Ines.
Emily hums and looks up at him, her lips pressed together, “I…” she swallows thickly, “I don’t know,” she says honestly, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from crying. She presses her lips together and her chin shakes, the emotions that had only been skin deep all evening finally starting to escape, “I wasn’t here, Aaron. She needed me and I wasn’t here.”
It feels like her chest cracks open, the pressure of everything she’d stuffed in there breaking free, her ribs aching as she tries, and fails to suppress a sob.
“Oh, Em,” he says softly, encouraging her to stand up, helping her lay Ines down on the bed so she stays asleep. He wraps his arms around his wife and leads her over to the couch, tugging her close and holding her tightly. She holds him back just as fiercely, her hands grasping fistfuls of his jacket as she sinks into him, her cheek against his chest as she keeps her eyes on Ines, her view of the little girl blurred by the constant stream of tears that didn’t seem to be going anywhere how they’d started, “She’s okay. She’s perfectly safe.”
She pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “She had a seizure Aaron,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to try to feel anything other than the tension in her chest, “Our little girl had a seizure and I wasn’t there. I was working. I knew she wasn’t well this morning, I knew it and I still went to work. What kind of mother does that make me?”
“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm but kind as he cups her cheek, forcing her to look at him, “You could never have known that would happen. As soon as you knew something was wrong you were on your way here,” he says, stroking her skin, his calluses against her skin soothing, a reminder of his strength, of his love for her, “You’re an excellent mother.”
She sighs, “Honey-”
“I won’t argue with you about this,” he cuts over her, a soft smile on his face, “You’re an excellent mother,” he repeats, “And I know the two youngest Hotchners would agree.”
She chokes out a sound, not sure what to call it herself, and she nods, too tired to argue with him, wanting nothing more than him to be right. She leans forward and presses her forehead into his shoulder, “Thank you for coming with me, I think I would have killed that air steward if you weren’t there.”
“You definitely would have,” he quips, kissing the top of her head as he rubs his palm up and down her back, “And you don’t have to thank me,” he says, encouraging her to look at him, “Our family is always my priority too. No matter what.”
She nods and leans forward, stamping her lips against his. It was moments like this that made her grateful to be the second person who was lucky enough to love him, to build a family with him. That he had learnt from his past, his complete lack of hesitation to come with her today all the proof she would ever need. It isn’t lost on her that he’s held back how he’s feeling, his own fear at their daughter being sick today buried deep in his chest whilst he helped her.
She’d make sure she gave him the space as soon as he needed it, at the first sign that he was letting his well-constructed barriers down.
“I love you,” she says, running her fingers through his hair.
“I love you too,” he says, kissing her before he wipes tears from her cheeks, “Do you want to lay down with her again and try and get some sleep?”
“God yes,” she replies, kissing him once more before she stands up, she looks at the bed and sighs, “I don’t think we’ll all fit.”
“That’s okay,” he says, carefully lifting Ines so Emily can get back into the bed, her shoes kicked off and under the bed, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She frowns at him as he settles Ines back onto her chest, “Honey, your back-”
“It will be okay for one night,” he says, even though they both know it’s not true, “Worth it so I can keep an eye on my girls.”
She rolls her eyes at him as he tucks the sheet around them both, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, smiling softly as Ines shifts in her sleep, “Sweet, but ridiculous.”
He presses a kiss against each of their foreheads and settles in the chair next to the bed, “Get some sleep, baby,” he says, “And tomorrow we’ll take her home and spoil her.”
“You always spoil her,” she murmurs, kissing the top of Ines’s head as she closes her eyes, the smell of her daughter’s hair soothing her.
Aaron chuckles in response, watching as she falls asleep, their daughter safely curled up in her arms, “You’re one to talk.”
-x-
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Chapter 6: We Take a Portal to School
Chapter 6 of my Byler Isekai AU is now up on Ao3! The party gets to relax a little after almost dying in the last one while also making plans on how to proceed. Plus there is some Mike and the boys bonding and worldbuilding happening, which is why this whole thing comes in at almost 10k. You're welcome.
Tags: M, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Fantasy AU, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Horror, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Summary:
Mike Wheeler hates High School, so when he almost dies and falls through a portal to another world, he’s not going to complain. Especially not when that world does not only have swords and magic but seems to work exactly according to the rules of his favorite tabletop role-playing game. But his euphoria might be short lived because the party of adventurers he falls in with turns out to be the target of an evil god and the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders. So, exactly like his games of D&D. Except the wanna-be Paladin soon realizes that being a hero is much harder in real life than it is in-game.
-
Or, Mike gets isekai’d into a world where D&D is real.
An excerpt and taglist below the cut:
Excerpt:
They are found, eventually. From where Mike is sitting he can see three doors leading into the building, all made of the same heavy wood. The one that opens grates on the stone floors, the noise so loud in the reverent quiet of the courtyard that Mike jumps.
The others turn towards the noise with equal looks of dread and resignation.
The door admits two men wrapped in white robes and big, colorful fabrics wrapped around them like greek togas. The smaller of the two is elven, a little shorter than Mike himself, with a pudgy, almost dad-like shape, short, thin white hair and pale skin. The other man is an owlin with brown and creme feathers, sort of like a barn owl. He towers over the other man but hangs back as they make their way to the edge of the walkway, curiously watching their bedraggled group, whispering to each other, before they finally step into the courtyard proper.
Mike puts his hand on his sword, not sure he’s ready to fight if it comes to it but also knowing that he’ll have no other choice. The men hold themselves friendly enough and as far as he can see they’re not carrying weapons, but in a world with magic that doesn’t mean much.
One’s weapon had also only been his mind.
The others react calmly to the approach, though. Lucas straightens up a little, clearly torn between holding onto Max and assuming his princely duties as their leader. Hop, Mrs. Byers and Jonathan look from the men to the group around Mike, and Will rises to his feet and approaches them. He meets the smaller man’s eyes and bows.
The man in charge smiles a smile that isn’t really comforting when he sees their Cleric. “Young Master Byers. I didn’t expect to see you here ever again.”
Will keeps his head bowed. “High Mage Owens.”
“Did that goddess of yours forsake you after all?”
Mike is sure the intention is just friendly ribbing, but the man’s tone is just slightly off, and Will gives him no more than a tight smile when he lifts his head.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” he replies. “But we seek shelter all the same. We will leave if you need us to, but-” he trails off, looking around the courtyard at his tired and grieving friends.
Owens follows the gaze with the same look of cold kindness that he’s been wearing since he stepped through the door. His eyes snag on the corpse sprawled out beside their bags. “So it is true that the Circle has fallen. I told Martin not to trust in gods.”
El tenses at the name, looking down at her feet. Mike understands the feeling. He doesn’t like that fact that this man used to be on a first name basis with the Father of Gods.
The man behind Owens leans forward, whispering something in his superior’s ear. Owens purses his lips, then shakes his head.
“Have you brought his body here with you to resurrect him, or-”
“No,” Lucas says, much too loud in his hurry to speak up. Again he looks at Mike in a way that makes him uncomfortable – a feeling not at all helped by the way Lucas still clings to Max. “He should receive a proper burial...we brought him so he wouldn’t fall into One’s clutches, but no...we just- the body just-”
He trails off.
Owens watches him with calculated interest, the barest hint of a shadow passing over his face. Then he turns back to Will with a tight smile. “We will take care of it.” He nods at Max. “Your friend-”
Hop rises to his feet and joins his son. “She’ll be alright, she simply needs rest.”
Owens nods. “You all need rest. And you shall have it. Let it not be said that the Laboratories turned away heroes in their hour of need.” He motions for the man behind him. “Shepard, see that rooms are prepared for our guests. And have the kitchens bring some food up for them.”
The man whispers something else in Owens ear, and Owens nods. Then the owlin hurries away.
“Come,” Owens gestures for them to follow him. “We have far more comfortable places to discuss your predicament than our portal room.”
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are you aware that by lying about the bastard status of her children Rhaenyra committed treason? You know what the punishment for treason is yes? Aegon is the heir wheither you want it or not. If Rhaenyra had legitimized her children we wouldn't have this problem. She was being stupid.
Are you aware that both the King, Corlys and Laenor recognized these boys as legitimate and treated them as such? Are you aware that they KNEW, DIDN'T CARE, and STILL named them as heirs?
Any bastard recognized by the King or the Lord they are inheriting from as legitimate are thereby treated as such. But let's not even get into that, and get into the fact that despite it being obvious in the show, in the book Jace, Luke and Joffery are NEVER proved to illegimate as no one knows what Laenor or Harwin looks like. These are simply just misogynistic rumors spread by, yes, you guessed it, the Greens as just another excuse to justify usurping Rhaenyra.
Truth be told they have no proof and they don't actually care. They only say this weaken her claim.
But no matter which way you spin it, Aegon is not and never will be the rightful heir. First of all, there is no such thing as a 'rightful heir.' You do not earn that status by simply being born as the first male as there is no set law in Westros that establishes this. The next ruler is chosen by the current King on a case by case situation and Viserys named RHENYRA was heir, not Aegon. If you want proof, check out this 1999 article where GRRM himself says himself that there are not succession laws in Westros:
Here is the snipit: "There are no clear cut answers, either in Westeros or in real medieval history. Things were often decided on a case by case basis. A case might set a precedent for later cases... but as often as not, the precedents conflicted as much as the claims."
Second of all, Aegon is a rapist. Rape believe it or not is ILLEGAL in Westros. Men who were rapers got sent to the wall or castrated or executed, as seen when Daemon literally cuts someone's dick off during his rampage. Any crime committed is crime against the King, which is treason. Therefor your logic is invalid because technically, your boy committed treason as well. Multiple times.
Third of all, you cannot call Rhaenyra stupid for making a choice to save her life and her claim.
Having bastard children is not illegal or treason but trying to put them on the throne IS. If Rhaenyra had announced that her children were bastards then she would be put to death along with Jace, Luke, And Joffery (who, mind you, is an innocent little kid). Viserys would probably have no choice but to execute Daemon as well seeing as he probably knew, and anyone else like Harwin, Lord Lynol (his hand at one point), Rhaena, Baela, Laenor if he was still alive (which would greatly weaken the crown because there is no World in which Corlys would support him after that).
You really expect this woman to put herself, her entire family and others in danger for what - rumors started by Alicent? Because once again I reiterate - just because the show makes it oblivious, does not mean it was ever actually proven.
Rhaenyra giving into those stupid rumors would cost not only her, but the realm so much. And I find it funny how you are so eager to put her children in danger when you probably think Blood and Cheese is wrong.
Well, news flash, advocating for Rhaenyra to admit to treason would mean little kids die anyways. Luke, Rhaena, Baela, and Joffery who is around the same age as Heleana's children would be put to the death but I find it funny how you have no sympathy for them.
But back to the point - Westros is an absolute monarchy. The King's word is law and there are no if, ands, or buts. What Viserys says, goes, and even if you threw everything I just said out of the window, THE KING, and I repeat, THE KING OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS NAMED HER AS HEIR. HIS WORD IS LAW. THERE IS NO ARGIUNG WITH THAT.
If you think Rhaenya is still not the rightful heir even after the King has said she was and never relented to his death, then it is because you have a problem with a woman on the throne. It was always supposed to be her and not Aegon, and the Greens usurped her not because Aegon was the rightful heir, but because they hated the idea of a woman on the throne.
I leave you with all this and if you disagree that's your problem. But remember, even Aegon himself once said:
"What kind of a brother steals his own sister's birthright?"
#house of the dragon#hotd#team black#rhaenyra targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#hotd discussion#didnt even get to mention that aegon also has bastards that he watches fight to death but of course team green doesnt#care because they are misogynists and it only bothers them with a woman does it
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