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#with this media I don’t think they can make the changes I want.....
anodymalion · 2 days
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ok I am in fact using this as an excuse to make a long post about this thank you thank you asjksdjfaljdf
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Interpreting Yuri as asexual is my very very favorite type of headcanon, which is one that 1. is compellingly coded in the source material (even if that wasn't the creator's intent), 2. is thematically relevant to what the piece of media is Trying To Do as a whole, and 3. just means a lot to me, personally, because I said so.
Coded in the source material
Yuri’s short program is “eros”, aka desire (you can interpret what “eros” means in various ways, but YOI itself explicitly refers to sexual love, at least in the English translations). Yuri struggles with this. Hard. He can’t come up with an answer when asked what eros means to him. His big revelatory moment about desire is that it’s how he feels about wanting to eat his favorite food (omg… boy). Even as the season goes on and the way he views the Eros program changes, the program doesn’t ever really embody the idea of eros as sexuality or romance (which was how the other characters expect him to interpret it) but rather as a desire to keep Victor in his life.
Like look. I’m obviously not going to say that the creator intended any kind of ace subtext to be there. I kind of doubt it was her intent. But goddamn is the subtext there.
2. Thematic relevance
The central theme throughout YOI is “love”, and especially loving people in a way that inspires you both to be your best selves: Yuri learning that the people in his life truly love and support him; Victor finding someone who makes him feel joy about skating again.
Like, Yuri’s whole skating theme for the Grand Prix is literally about him exploring what love looks like to him, even when it takes a form that other people don’t totally understand. Viewing all this through a lens of him being ace is really compelling. It adds depth to the idea of learning how to express the way you feel love even when it looks different than what other people expect. I think it’s a really delicious layer that adds even more nuance to what the show is getting at.
Besides, it’s an interesting way of viewing the criticism of the show that occurred for it not being 100% explicit about them being a couple (aka people getting mad because the kiss in ep 7 is blocked by Victor’s arm lmaooo). Like, ok, did you see the ending scene of ep 9? Did you see ep 10??? They definitely, definitely love each other, in whatever way that means for them. Their relationship takes a form that’s pretty different than the other way people in the show are going about romantic relationships, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real for them. That is very much in line with the main themes of the show.
3. Means a lot to me
In the final scene of the penultimate episode, Yuri tells Victor that they should end their coaching relationship after the Grand Prix ends. This is because he thinks he’s holding Victor back, that Victor would be happier being free to go back to skating on his own instead of being Yuri’s coach. When I watched this (and, I’ll be honest, this is completely me projecting here) I REALLY interpreted this as an ace thing. I think it’s pretty easy to internalize the idea when you’re asexual that you just won’t be… enough, for other people. In my case I ended up a strong impulse to self-sabotage relationships because I would rather be the one to end things than to let someone else tell me that who I am as a person is fundamentally lacking. Yuri destroying a connection he desperately wants because he thinks there’s something about him that is holding Victor back from a life he’d be truly happy with? Oh yeah. I can fucking relate to that.
Also: YOI came out in 2016, which was the absolute peak of hostility to ace people I was seeing on this site. It was bad here. At the same time Tumblr was going wild over this show. Everyone was watching it. Seeing a whole site of people absolutely adore a character I very deeply in my heart believed to be ace? Extremely vindicating.
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In conclusion Yuri is asexual because it is fun and interesting that way, and also because of this:
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frozenjokes · 2 days
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I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work
Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..
The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:
Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼��⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY
It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.
Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.
“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”
Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”
“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”
“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”
“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”
“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”
“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.
“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”
“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”
Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”
“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-
“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”
“Seriously.”
“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”
“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”
“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”
“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”
Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”
“Great.”
“You should go to work though.”
“I know your motives, Cub.”
Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”
“This is extremely appealing to me.”
“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”
“Scar will text you.”
“He might not.”
Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”
“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.
“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”
“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”
“You are in on this!”
“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”
“It won’t be.”
“If you say so.”
Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.
With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.
Apparently Scar had anticipated this.
“Well hello there!”
Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.
Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.
“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”
Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”
“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”
Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.
“Did you see my message this morning?”
“I saw it.”
“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”
“No.”
“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”
Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”
“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”
Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.
Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.
It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.
Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.
“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”
Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)
“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.
Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”
“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”
“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”
“You paid him to do that?”
“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”
“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”
“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”
Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”
“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”
“This sounds awful.”
“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“
“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.
“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”
Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.
“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.
“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”
“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.
“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”
Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.
He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.
So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.
“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.
“Hello Diane.”
“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.
“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.
Eventually the door closed.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”
“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”
Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”
“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”
Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Nothing.”
“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”
“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”
Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.
“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.
“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”
“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”
“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”
“I feel awful.”
Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”
The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”
Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”
“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”
Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”
“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”
Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.
“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.
“Of course.”
Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.
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k-evans-reads · 1 day
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In Living Color
Chapter 26
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Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist
September 13th, 2022
“Alright, cut! That was a good one so that’s a wrap for today.” 
Hearing those words was like music to Chris’ ears. He’d been on set since before the sun had risen in the sweltering Atlanta heat and he was ready to call it a day. Chris only stayed to chat with his co-stars for a moment before walking off the set, ready for a shower and quiet evening at his rental with Dodger, but he would soon find out he was in for anything but. 
Chris had made some headway through his plans when he stepped out of his set trailer, his costume long gone and instead dressed in loose shorts and a tee-shirt. He called goodbyes to everyone as he headed to the parking lot, figuring Josh and Dodger had already gone home, but soon he was stopped in his tracks. 
“Chris! Hey, hold on,” he heard Josh call, turning to find his long-time friend – and assistant – jogging over to him with Dodger by his side. 
Chris paused, letting Josh catch up to him. He could see the rest of the cast slowly making their way off set, either to the wardrobe trailer or to their own trailers, and the line of cars waiting to take them all home. “I thought you already left for the day?” He asked Josh, surprised to see him, but with a small grin as he reached down and greeted the excited, and tired, dog. 
“No, I took Dodger on a longer walk but your phone has been blowing up. Jamie keeps trying to call you and asked me to have you call him back as soon as you can,” his friend explained quickly with a serious tone.
Chris pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, unsure why Jamie, of all people, was trying to reach out to him right now. He’d kept in loose contact with Mark and Jamie since Nat moved, occasionally texting them but mainly just keeping up with them through social media and Nat. “Jamie? I wonder what that’s about?” He asked, knowing this was out of the blue. 
“I don’t know but here’s your phone,” Josh told him, handing the phone over. “Let me know later if anything is up.” 
“I will, thanks Josh,” he said with a tight grin, pocketing the 
Chris could feel the anxiety building in him as he took Dodger’s leash from Josh, thanking him again before going to the car service that the production provided and climbing into the back with Dodger sitting down on the bench seat right next to him. He clicked on Jamie’s number, returning his call as his leg bounced with anxiousness as the phone kept ringing and ringing until it went to voicemail. 
Although Chris’ brain loved to torture him with all the what if’s, he thought that this maybe was a good sign. If there truly was something urgent or earth shattering that he was so desperate to get a hold of Chris, he would have kept his phone on him and answered his call. Chris almost wanted to laugh to himself now as he relaxed in his seat on the drive back to his rental, thinking about the quirky best friends of Nat, knowing that he probably would be getting a call about something ridiculous that would make him erupt in laughter, but also remembered just how long it had been since he’d gotten those funny calls from Nat or either of her best friends, knowing that things had changed since she moved. 
He tried not to worry about it as he got to his rental and climbed in the shower, happy relax after the long day, but he had just climbed out and changed into his sweatpants and a comfy tee-shirt when his phone ran from where it sat on the bed next to his sweet pooch who was curled up. Chris grabbed the phone and put it on speaker, greeting his friend with, “Hey man, how are you? It’s been a while.” 
“It has been, but um, Chris are you on set?” Jamie asked, his voice muffled as he moved around on the other end of the call.
Chris’ brows furrowed and his hand froze on Dodger’s side, noting the urgency in Jamie’s voice. “No, I’m done for the day. I just got back to my rental… why?” He asked, his shoulder tense with anxiety as Jamie hesitated. 
The other man let out a shuddering sigh before he confessed, “I need to talk to you.” 
Chris shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t sound good,” he murmured. 
“It’s not,” Jamie agreed, his voice turning sad and sympathetic. Jamie took a deep breath before he explained, “I was in San Francisco today and Chris… Nat is not doing well.” 
If Chris had been nervous before, it was nothing compared to the fear that flooded his body at that simple explanation. He wanted to not believe it, wanted to call Jamie a liar, that this wasn’t his Nat they were talking about. “What? What do you mean?” He finally asked, his voice unsteady and fearful. 
Jamie’s voice was low, sad, and defeated when he told him, “She’s not okay, Chris.” 
“Jamie, I need you to tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand,” Chris all but demanded him, unable to stop his brain from spiraling. Nat was…. Nat. Resilient, flexible, and strong, with a stubborn streak that rivaled his own. It was his last concern that she was ever going to be anything but okay. She’d rolled with every last one of his wild ideas, schedules, and asks of her for the last year, and he couldn’t see where anything changed to push Jamie to make this call. 
“She’s incredibly depressed, Chris. She’s super skinny, she doesn’t eat much and I found out that basically none of the office there in San Francisco hardly even know her. They said she just comes in and works all day in her office and goes to meetings and doesn’t say much and then goes home,” Jamie explained, listing off every reason that caused Chris’ heart to practically shatter. He couldn’t believe everything he’d missed, everything she’d been hiding from not only him, but her family and friends as well. His heart began to race anxiously as Jamie continued, “Yesterday night I stayed with her and by the time we went out to dinner and got back to her apartment she was practically falling asleep. She has no energy and looks like she’s going to burst into tears at any moment.” 
Chris’ mind raced as he still tried to pinpoint exactly where and when everything went south for her, knowing that he hadn’t seen all of that when he visited in early July. Sure, she’d been overworking herself, but that was a losing battle Chris had been trying to fight with her for almost a year now. All he knew was Nat being a near workaholic, and he figured with the move, she had been throwing herself into the only thing she was familiar with up there. “What’s going on? Is it something with her job? Or did something happen? She hasn’t said a word to me,” he finally answered, clearing the lump in his throat away. 
“I don’t know. I tried to talk to her and she wouldn’t say anything… you know how stubborn Nat can be,” Jamie explained with a sigh, sounding just as frustrated and concerned as Chris felt. 
Chris’ mind was still moving faster than he could catch up with, and he frustratedly admitted to the other man, “I just can’t believe she hasn’t said a word of this.” 
“I don’t know why she hasn’t but Chris, but I’m really worried about her. Things are not good and I don’t think anybody knows,” Jamie explained, sighing as he paused. “Everyone came in early this morning for a meeting so I’m going to send them all home early so maybe call her in a little while? My flight for LA is in a couple hours so she’ll be alone.” 
Chris nodded, taking note of the time on the alarm clock next to him. “I will,” he promised, knowing Jamie knew that already. 
“Chris... She’s not herself. She needs help so don’t take no for an answer, okay?” Jamie gently suggested, with more muffled sounds filtering through the call from the office in California. Chris listened intently, but his attention was split as Dodger whined nervously, looking up at his owner anxiously.  
Chris smiled sadly to himself, reaching his hand down to pet Dodger reassuringly. “I won’t. Thanks for telling me, Jamie,” he thanked the man, not knowing what he would’ve done had he not known the truth. 
As they hung up the call, Chris tried to pass the time between then and when he could call Nat in any way – turning on CNN, only to not pay attention to it. Texting Eric, asking if Nat had said if anything was wrong, only to hear “She hasn’t said anything to me, everything’s sounded okay.” That only made Chris more worried, knowing how close Nat was to Eric. She was so close to him, in a way that made Chris only hope to one day have that relationship with a child of his own. 
But it seemed like they were all in the dark, and once forty-five minutes had passed, Chris raced to open his texts with Nat. There still had been nothing since early that morning, when she liked his text about when he’d be on set that day. But he pushed down the hurt at that and instead hit the FaceTime button and called her, wanting to see her for this. 
He was thankful when Nat answered, but instead of being greeted with her face, he could only  see a ceiling. “Nattie, are you at home?” He asked, getting to the point almost immediately. He couldn’t beat around the bush with this, not when he felt like he was about to break down at any minute as he pictured everything Jamie had told him. 
Nat’s brows were furrowed when she adjusted the camera so he could see her, and he let out a sigh as he finally looked at her. He’d seen her in fleeting calls and random pictures over the last few months, but he’d never been able to see the change in her until today. The weight loss, evident in her face, the light, nearly all gone from her eyes, the way her once-fitted shirt now hung off of her shoulders, and the bags under her eyes… the ones he knew weren’t there the last time he saw her. It all hurt, scared, and alarmed him, but most of all, he felt frustrated with himself that he was too stupid to see past all reassurances to notice all these things months ago. “Yeah, why?” She brushed him off, a single brow raising. 
“What’s going on Nat?” He asked her point blank, eyes moving over hers as he stared at his phone. He could even see the way her hair was thrown up, messily, with strands falling out of her bun, slicked back against her scalp in a way that told him she hadn’t been taking care of herself there either. And he knew it wasn’t by choice. She was exhausted, something she had told him repeatedly in the previous months. He’d always brushed her off, feeling it was just her not handling the move great. But now he saw the truth, he saw it in every shift of her eyes, the slimness of her wrist as she tucked her hair behind her ear, how heavy the undereye bags were…. He hated himself most of all for missing this, letting it get to this point. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Jamie called me and told me that you’re not doing well. He said you’re depressed and that he’s really worried about you,” he explained, his voice almost clinical to disguise the sheer panic he was feeling at everything. 
Nat waved her hand, her voice small as she told him, “That’s just Jamie. You know he’s the dad of the group and he’s just worried because it’s been a couple months since I’ve seen him.” 
“Nat, if you’re struggling, you can talk to me,” Chris tried to reason with her, feeling more anxious with every dismissive comment she made. Dodger shifted against his leg, rolling onto his back as he drifted to sleep, and Chris watched Nat carefully, hoping her walls would finally go down. 
“I’m fine, it’s just different settling in here is all,” she whispered, shrugging as she glanced away from the camera. 
“It’s been almost five months though,” Chris pointed out as he arched an eyebrow. “Did it take you that long to settle in when you moved to LA?” 
She huffed out a breath, stubbornly telling him, “That was different because I met Jamie and Mark right away. You said it yourself that I just need to give it time.” 
“Is it this job? Is that what this is or is it something else? Do you miss LA?” He questioned, practically grappling at straws here. He didn’t want to push her too far, but he had to get to the bottom of this now. Nothing good would come from throwing his hands up and walking away, not when she was hurting as much as Jamie suggested. This had to get out of her system now, for both of their sakes. 
“No, I want to be here. This is the dream job. This is what I worked toward so I’m going to do it,” she explained, but he didn’t believe her. He didn’t believe her back in April, and he would never hold that over her head, but he’d lost her somewhere between then and now. Everyone had, it seemed, but the only thing he was sure about now was that Nat was convincing herself everything would get better as she clung to her work like a lifeboat. “I’m the one who wanted this promotion. It’s not that. I’m fine, Chris.” 
“Nattie, you’re lying to me. I know you’re lying,” he clarified, his voice firm as he ignored her attempts to interrupt. He looked at her dead-on, eyebrows raised as he firmly stated, “You’re lying to Jamie. You’re lying to Eric. You’re lying to me and I think you’re lying to yourself.” 
He just sat there staring at the screen as he watched panic settle on Nat’s face. Chris wasn’t even aware just how true those words were. Nat had been lying to herself for so long, ignoring everything other than putting her nose to the grindstone and ignoring her emotions. He watched as tears glossed over her eyes but he wanted to push her a little more, he wanted to get her to fully open up and he gently went on, “We’re just all worried about you. I love you Nattie and I want you to tell me the truth.” 
Chris saw her face on the screen seemingly frozen for a moment before he watched her last defenses crumble and the tears start flowing down her cheeks. Her shoulders slumped and a hand went up to rest on her face as her body shook with her sobs. He hated to see her this way, but wanted her to be open and honest, even if his heart had to break as he watched her fall to pieces. 
“I don’t even know how. I don’t know what to do,” she admitted through gasping breaths, her chest shuddering as the emotions finally came to the surface. The tears poured out of her eyes furiously, and Chris finally – and sadly – saw Nat for the first time in what felt like months. Her guard, walls, and defenses were all down, and she was finally ready to be honest with someone. 
“Just talk to me, baby,” he pleaded, desperation replacing the fear and anxiety from earlier. His heart was shattered as he watched her fall apart, wanting nothing more to pull her into his arms and tell her they’d get her through this. But he couldn’t. She was alone, truly alone, in San Francisco while he was stuck in Atlanta, with a busy schedule for the rest of the week. 
“I hate it here, Chris. I hate it so much. I hate this job and I don’t feel like anyone likes me and I have no friends and I don’t know how to do half of what I’m doing and so then I have to go home and work even more just to get caught up and I miss you so much and feel like I’m never going to see you again,” she spoke, her voice moving so quickly that she occasionally stumbled over her words. 
He watched with a frown, feeling helpless as he asked, “Nattie, why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me this was going on?” 
“...I tried… but you’ve been so busy,” she whispered, a hand moving to wipe her face. “And I just didn’t know how.” 
“Nat, this is just a job. If you hate it, that’s okay,” he told her, a frown on his lips. He knew it wouldn’t happen overnight or in an instant, but he was trying to get her to take this role off a pedestal and put it back on the ground. At the end of the day, it was a job, just like the film role he had right now. Was it a great opportunity for anyone to get offered it? Of course. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to change her mind, to realize it wasn’t right for her, or to walk away from it. But she needed to get there herself first. 
“You don’t understand, Chris,” she began, shaking her head as she took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t have prepared himself for what was coming when she added, “This was my dream job. This has always been the sign that I'd made it. That everything my dad worked for truly paid off. That I wasn’t the screw up little sister… that I wasn’t just a joke. And now I have it, and I hate it and I can’t seem to make it work. I failed at my dream.” 
His eyes shut and his heart was done for it as she shared that insecurity, and he whispered, “Oh Nattie.” 
Chris wanted to reassure her, wanted to remind her that this was just a job. That this didn’t prove anything and sometimes losing a dream makes room for something new but he knew that none of that would help in this moment. Right now all he could see was the love of his life on the other end of this call completely heartbroken and crying her eyes out and he felt that there was nothing he could do about it. 
“I just can’t do this anymore, Chris. I can’t hardly get out of bed in the morning anymore,” her voice crackled as she dissolved into tears once more. He felt as if his heart was being squeezed when he watched her crumble on the other side of the screen and all he wanted to do was to be able to just take this all away. 
“Nattie, baby I want you to listen to me,” his own voice was laced with emotion but he tried to speak with assurance as he told her, “I have a couple more days on set before I have the weekend off but then I’m going to come out, okay? Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call your dad and see if he could fly down there tomorrow and be with you until I get there.” 
“He can’t, he has to work more because a bunch of people quit,” Nat muttered before seeming to slip back into her indifference that came with her depression and just shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be okay.” 
Chris just shook his head, knowing that he wasn’t going to let her keep going this way and stated, “No, this is what got us into this position in the first place. I can’t sleep knowing you’re like this, baby. I’m going to figure something out.” 
“I don’t want you to have to do that just because I’m a mess. I just need to suck it up,” she muttered again while looking down at something he couldn’t see. 
“Natalie Marton, there is nothing in this world more precious to me than you. I don’t care if I have to drop out of this film to come be with you, I’ll do it,” he said without a second thought. This was his girl. His Nattie. The person he wanted to be his forever and he’d be damned if he let anything come between them or him being able to help her. “Just stop trying to be so strong for just a minute and let me help you.” 
Chris watched her sit there for a moment, tears still falling out of her eyes before she just nodded before he kept on, “It’s going to be okay, honey. I love you and it’s going to be okay.” 
He watched her weakly nod before he followed his instructions to get in bed and try to relax but he couldn’t do that himself. There was no way he’d be relaxing knowing that Nat was on the other side of the country, completely heartbroken and beat down. He couldn’t sit still after the call ended, and he definitely couldn’t have gone to bed after all that. Not when Nat was sitting alone, miserable, and had finally admitted what she’d been dancing around for months. 
Chris had seen a few texts pop up on his phone during the call from Eric, the messages verging on both worried and concerned, and felt that he at least owed her father some explanation after reaching out earlier. When Eric declined his call, he immediately texted Chris back, explaining that he was working and couldn’t talk but could text. While it was reassuring to Chris that he wasn’t the only one who’d been left in the dark about all of this, he felt bad for them when Eric said he couldn’t even go down to visit and help Nat out with everything this week due to a ferry driver shortage in Washington. There was no one to cover his hours and no way this emergency request off would be granted, and Chris’ brain began thinking through everything. 
Emily would understand. He’d known her and John for years, and was friends with them both. She’d been an amazing costar so far, and he’d hate walking away…. But this was for Nat. He didn’t have any immediate obligations with Netflix beyond this film, and even if he burned this bridge, it was one bridge. 
But the more he thought about it, the more he considered the strain he’d put not only his friends on the production under, but the hundreds of staff and crew on the film…. He just wasn’t sure. As he did in every situation he faced like this, he dialed his Ma’s number, hoping she’d be able to guide him in the right direction, or tell him he was being stupid and of course he should call his agent to tell him he had to leave. 
After he caught Lisa up to speed on everything, almost too fast for how chaotic the last few hours had felt, he sighed. “I’m just so fucking worried, Ma,” he told her, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve never seen her like this and when I talked to her it just… it sounded bad.” 
“My poor Nattie,” Lisa sympathized with the woman that she’d come to love so dearly over the course of her dating Chris. 
“I was going to fly out there Saturday morning once I’m done filming but I don’t know…” Chris truly couldn’t figure out the answer to all of this, knowing that either decision he made would hurt someone. But with Eric unable to go, Nat’s sisters having their own children and obligations, Mark and Jamie both working, and Nat having missed out on having a mom, he just didn’t see any other solution for how to help her get through this. He reached out to rub a hand across Dodger’s soft fur, needing that bit of comfort himself before telling his mother, “I’m thinking about dropping out of Pain Hustlers so I can just go out there now.” 
“Is it that bad, Chris?” 
“It’s pretty bad,” he honestly told her. Just thinking about what Nat looked like on that screen, every bit of joy and happiness that made Nat, Nat was completely gone. She was broken and Chris wanted to be there to help put her back together. “Ma, it just fuckin’ broke my heart to see her like that. And Eric can’t go because he’s working doubles because they’re already down people.” 
Without hesitation, Lisa presented her own solution, “Chris, let me go out there. I could fly out early in the morning,” 
“I wasn’t asking you to do that,” he wanted to clarify, not wanting her to feel obligated to fix all of this. 
“I know you weren’t, but I want to. I love Nattie and I’m worried about her too and I hate knowing that she’s out there all alone and dealing with all of this by herself,” she seemed to put his own feelings into words. 
A long sigh poured out of him as he ran a hand through his hair anxiously, “That’s why I’m thinking it might be better if I just drop out of this film because even when I fly out on Saturday, I’ll have to come back Tuesday morning.” He knew that he could help for the weekend, but didn’t see how this could be solved in just a few days. There was nothing more important to him than Nat and her well-being and didn’t want anything to stand in the way of him being there for her since he had missed out on doing that the past few months. 
“Honey, we both know what a big hit that will be if you drop out,” Lisa tried to bring in the reality of his obligations back up before reminding him, “I know you’re worried about Nat, but it’s going to be okay. Let’s just take this one step at a time. I’ll go out there tomorrow and then you can come on Saturday and we’ll figure all of this out, okay?” 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ma.”  
And those words were even more true than he realized over the coming days. Knowing that Nat was being taken care of by his mother was the only way that he was able to stay working in Atlanta and having the realistic updates from Lisa allowed him to have the full picture of what really was going on. It brought him so much comfort knowing that Lisa was taking her to work, bringing her lunch and was with her in the lonely evenings but it still wasn’t the same as him being there himself. 
He wanted to be able to look in her eyes and hold her to know that she really was there and assure her that it would be okay, even though he didn’t feel it himself. Chris wanted to be with her so much that it hurt and the second that he was done on set that Friday night, he couldn’t wait until the following morning to fly to her and chartered a flight to take him to San Francisco then. 
Chris had texted his mom to tell her that he was coming but found out that even then, Nat had already gone to bed. He knew firsthand how much anxiety and depression could exhaust your body and he was glad she was getting rest. When finally he landed in San Francisco, he got a car to take him to the small apartment where he stepped inside and shared a long hug with his mother. There was so much to talk about between the two of them but in this moment, all that mattered was his Nattie. He needed to have his own eyes on her and quietly let go of his mother to walk down the tiny hallway and open the door to her room. 
There she was, fast asleep underneath a pile of blankets but even underneath the bulky fabric, she still looked so tiny. His heart just hurt seeing her this way but there also was a piece of him that felt more at peace than he had this entire week, knowing that he was finally able to be with her. He quietly took off his shoes and jacket, leaving them on a chair before gently climbing into bed next to her and resting a hand on her back. 
Even in the dim light, he could see her puffy eyes flutter open and without a word, they filled with tears as her arms latched around his neck like a vice. He held her tightly, breathing in her scent as his own tears started falling down his cheeks as they clung to one another in a way they never had before. Chris knew that there still was so much ahead of them, so much to be sorted out and fixed, so much fear and uncertainty, but none of that seemed to matter in this moment because he was here with her and that’s all he wanted. 
A/N: This was the final completed chapter we had from last year. While we have a halfish chapter written, we probably will not have the time to actually finish it. Let us know what you guys would prefer - a half chapter and brief synopsis of the end, a summary only (no chapter), or something else.
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beenbaanbuun · 2 days
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Hiii bun I have no friends who are into kpop so if you don’t mind me Idk just talking about this here you don’t have to respond if you don’t want to at all so please don’t feel inclined to~
Okay Idk if you be on twitter but oh boy twitter but it’s been wild. I get on there briefly just to see atinys and others referring to hwa with she/her pronouns and then defending it hard calling him a woman and saying shit like it’s his fault for being so motherly 😭 Then saying it’s just jokes and then some of it has spiraled into talking about shipping and sexuality etc I’ve then went down a rabbit hole and it’s just a mess
I think it’s crazy that a decent amount of atinys behave so poorly when atz as a whole are so respectful, supportive and accepting to all and make sure to keep everything gn for their fans then their fandom does the complete opposite towards them.
Imo It’s cool to wonder and be curious but some atinys just don’t understand boundaries and respect and it’s disheartening to see.
Like if you think two members would be cute together or something like that’s cool but shipping imo can be a little weird simply because these are real people with feelings etc and they have just as much access to social media as we do and seeing yourself being shipped with someone you consider family or a friend could be a little awkward and uncomfortable (this applies to anyone not just atz or idols. I mean genuinely would you be comfortable seeing people ship you with your close friends and family?🤷🏽‍♂️) (and don’t get me wrong every idol isn’t the same and some might be cool with it but it’s safe to say most probably aren’t) Like woosan love them to death but they’ve then stated multiple times that they’re just friends and the way san said it that one time it appears they don’t seem to care for the ships themselves. Atz are family borderline brothers I know within my heart they all love each other to DEATH but it’s most likely solely platonic love🤷🏽‍♂️
again they’re REAL living breathing people just as us and deserve the same amount of respect and privacy as we do. Some fans act so obligated to every little detail to an idol/celebrities life and that’s so uncool and weird.
Unless hwa says anything differently about his gender identity then he is a man. he/him, a masculine man. you can’t just push another identity onto him because it’s what you fantasize about and desire.
I feel like this really started happening when he started getting more comfortable with a more genderless style
Hwa as also said in one of his lives that he is a MANNNN
I say all this though because doing this could make the members uncomfortable and could make them distant and then with hwa it could make him stop experimenting with clothes and fashion the way HE wants (clothes don't equal gender.) because whether or not people want to believe this as I previously said these people have feelings and access to the media just like us they could see something that being a comment,(even in lives) a tweet, a post and it can make them feel bad. They can see something and it can make them feel uncomfortable. They can see something and it could make them feel some type of way and then they’re changing themselves or denying themselves, distancing themselves, (from anyone/anything) beating themselves up/thinking bad about themselves etc.
I’ve seen a lot of people say that it’s not that serious referring to him as she/her but whether or not you think it’s serious it’s weird. like refer to people as their correct pronouns it’s just basic respect and human decency
I hope if you respond you or nobody else don’t misunderstand what I’m saying but it’s the internet so it’s bound to happen lol thanks for coming to my Ted talk~ I wish you a marvelous day bunny! *boop*🐰❤️
i think using context clues is very important. someone making a silly funny is not the same as misgendering someone. people calling seonghwa mother and using she/her pronouns for a joke is not the same as misgendering someone. i have multiple male friends who i use she/her pronouns for as a silly and not one of them has ever said i’m misgendering them? i call one of my male friends babygirl to his face, am i misgendering him?
like i said, context is important and unless someone is actively saying ‘i think seonghwa is a woman and here is my proof’ then what you’re saying doesn’t really make sense to me? media literacy seems to be lacking as of recent and i think it’s important that we try and bring that back before the ability to make jokes on the internet gets completely removed.
as for shipping… huh?? it has always been a thing. since i was 12 and listening to one direction, it has always been a thing! and i bring up one direction for good reason because that is an instance of shipping going too far. that infiltrated their real lives and affected the members negatively. people writing silly little member x member fics online is nothing compared to that? writing member x member fics is actually not much different to me writing x reader fics except it’s, y’know, a little more gay!
and for the ‘would i feel comfortable with people shipping me with my friends?’… yeah?? my bff’s boyfriend didn’t approach us at first because he thought we were together. my friends i made at my job over summer thought me and my bff were together because she’s the only person i ever talk about. i don’t care! i actually think it’s kind of cute that people ‘ship’ me and my bff! (i’ve kissed her too!! boo hoo)
finally i just want to say that like you said, hwa is a grown man. if he wants to experiment with fashion and shit, then i don’t think someone calling him ‘mother’ on the internet is going to have much of an effect on that. someone saying something along the lines of ‘shes slaying’ isn’t either.
anyway, here is my fic that i wrote about matz (a married couple) and their third! just as a forewarning, reader calls seonghwa mommy in this!! enjoy :D
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frogcoven88 · 3 days
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My Thoughts on Wish 💫💜🌳🐐🫧
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FUCK I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
First of all, this review is dedicated to that one Wish stan on Twitter who said I have "no media literacy" when I tried to say that Magnifico wasn’t really threatening, but wasn’t trying to start off a big fight or anything.
I hope that person is having a wonderful day, and I hope this review proves that I do actually have media literacy 🥰🥰
Now, back to the film:
I really wanted to like this movies guys. A film about the origins of the wishing star sounded amazing!
And after I saw the film TWICE in theaters, I was in love. I thought surely my opinion wouldn’t change.
But…the more I thought about the movie, the worst it got.
For example, the songs. I don’t think I need to explain to you guys why "I let you live for free and I don’t even charge you rent" and "throw caution to every warning sign" and "watch out world here I are" DO NOT WORK.
I don’t blame the songwriters for this, because I’m sure they are very talented people.
But they were clearly not the people who should have been in charge of the music.
Not to mention the fact that Julia Michaels was given TWO WEEKS to write “This Wish”….
The Characters
Asha 💜
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I like Asha’s design enough, like her braids. But her personality is as bland as a scoop of vanilla ice cream (jk, vanilla ice cream is goated).
Lots of people have complained that the “adorkable” leading lady trope has worn out its welcome.
I used to disagree since those “quirky” characters were some of my favorites (Like Rapunzel, Mirabel, and Moana), but Asha has definitely reached my limit with them.
Rapunzel, Anna, Moana, and Mirabel all feel like distinct characters from each other (yeah stfu ModernGurlz), but Asha feels like an imitation of them, like the cheap Walmart version.
And she’s not really interesting either, she has a passion for art, but the film doesn’t do anything with it. In fact, nothing about her feels genuine. She feels so hollow and like she only has two personality traits: Quirky and the protagonist.
Like, during “This Wish” (which is probably the worst Disney “I want” song ever) I never felt connected with her. It just felt like, oh this is the Disney “I want” song because this is a Disney movie.
I didn’t understand what Asha wanted, “something more for us than this”? Okay…what about you? What do you want?
With all the other Disney “I want” songs, I could feel a connection and what the character wanted.
So yeah, Asha is probably the worst protagonist in the modern era of Disney. At least in terms of writing.
And while I did say I like her design, I prefer her concept arts.
King Magnifico 🫧
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Chris Pine seems like he is having a blast in the recording booth, and I gotta say his performance was pretty good. But it wasn’t enough to save this character :/
So, the main problem with his character is that I can kinda agree with him on the whole wishes thing. But, I also barely found him threatening.
The most threatening things he does in this movie is crush a bunch of balls (that’s what she said) that make people feel sad and chain everyone to the ground.
Not only that, Magnifico’s use of his magic is SO LAME! Another major reason I was never intimated by him is because he never did anything really scary or threatening with his magic, all he could do was create giant hands and chain people up. Like…ok? Is that all you got? Really? 😑
Also, I don’t think I need to tell you that his villain song SUCKS ASS. You know it, everyone knows it. I’m not getting into it. Go listen to a real villain song like "Hellfire" or “Friends on the other side" instead.
As for the other characters, I don’t have much to say about them unlike Asha and Magnifico.
Star ⭐️
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The Star was really really cute, even tho they were just a Luma/marketable plushie. And also REALLY reminds me of a squish mallow, am I the only one who sees that?
I should definitely mention how he was originally gonna be a StarBoy, but we’ll get to that later don’t you worry. That is a VERY important element in our discussion.
Amaya is so BORING! She barely has a character outside of being the queen and Magnifico’s wife, she was just…there. You could remove her from the movie with very little tweaking and nothing would change.
I would’ve preferred it if she was also a villain like Magnifico, which WAS originally in the script. But like StarBoy, that is something we will get to later.
The Other Characters this movie has
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The Teens are fine, but really forgettable. I like how they are all based off the Seven Dwarves, that’s cute. But it feels like they didn’t have any character outside of that.
Yeah, Dahlia is Asha’s bestie, but there wasn’t enough scenes between them to show me their dynamic to make me feel like their friendship was genuine.
Simon ended up snitching out on Asha and betraying the Teens in the middle, but I literally couldn’t have cared less because what do we know about this guy other than he’s sleepy and gave his wish to Magnifico?
As for the other Teens, just like Amaya, they could’ve been removed from the script and barely anything would change. The grumpy one had some sassy moments, and he’s voiced by Harvey Guillén (Perrito’s VA) so that’s something I guess. The shy one had this one gag that had comedic potential, but wasn’t really expanded.
And as for the other Teens…uh…I can’t remember a single thing they did honestly.
And then there’s Valentino…fuck that goat man. 😑 I love Alan Tudyk and
Uhh…Asha’s grandpa was build up as someone important but he just peaces out in the middle of the movie with Asha’s mom, who did not do a single thing other than a ball getting shattered making her sad.
And that’s all the characters in this movie.
Legacy Nods, why they do not work
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Alright, what else is there to talk about?
Maybe the endless amount of Disney references? I get it’s the 100th anniversary film and all and Disney has had Hidden Gems like that in their films. But the difference is the ones in previous films were subtle and hidden in the background, and it would probably take you a rewatch to see it.
But in Wish? They all feel shoved down your throat. It’s like: “HEY REMEMBER THIS MOVIE??" “REMEMBER THAT??” “DON’T YOU WANNA WATCH THAT MOVIE???” It’s so exhausting.
When I heard the movie was gonna have “legacy nods” as they liked to call it, I was excited and thought it would be so much fun to point them all out and to pay closer attention to the background.
But instead every nod was thrown at my face and was heavily obvious. Disappointing 😔
The Animation
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Let’s get to the animation now. It’s probably (one of) the most discussed things about this movie, especially when the teaser first dropped last year.
Lots of people were complaining it looks like a Disney Junior show or Ai and said it looks unfinished. Even one of my best friends who was just as excited for this movie as I was admitted it looked weird.
At first, I loved this art style and thought it was beautiful. And I was determined it would look even more beautiful on the big screen.
And now? I…actually still like it. I definitely don’t hate it, and thinks it gets some getting used to. I think it’s actually kinda pretty.
Apparently it’s supposed to be watercolor and combined with 2D animation, which is neat.
But compared to the films like the Spider Verse films or Puss In Boots 2, yeah it’s not the best.
I personally would’ve preferred it if the film was in 2D, Disney’s 100th anniversary would’ve been a PERFECT time to return 2D animation! But, nope 😒
Yeah it’s bad, but…
I know I’m making it seem like I hate this movie, but I really don’t. I’m disappointed in it more than anything.
If anything, I’m thankful this movie was still made.
Why?
Well, easy.
It allowed many people to be able to tell their own version of the story.
I’m sure we’ve all heard of StarBoy and the cut Evil Amaya.
And yeah, these concepts could’ve made this movie 1000x better.
But because of these concepts, so many amazing people have been given the opportunity to rewrite the movie and give amazing stories.
I have read so many wonderful Wish rewrites, which are so much better than the film.
At the end of the today, Wish is a bad movie.
But, I’m glad it exists.
Without it, we wouldn’t have gotten so many amazing stories.
I’m gonna give Wish a 4/10, still bad, but I appreciate its existence for the rewrites alone.
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mossflower · 8 months
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yeah you need hobbies outside of media consumption or you’ll go insane. however if i spent an entire day reading books i would not go insane i would feel happy and fulfilled <3
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badolmen · 11 months
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Had a revelation today in the woods. As you do.
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e-m-yl · 2 years
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The feminine urge to write a whole new timeline for kagepro as a fanfiction
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samuraisharkie · 7 months
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I don’t think I’m going to be able to convince my parents that Palestine is the victim. My Dad is so aggressively for them every since he heard the propaganda about Hamas “killing thousands of children”, and nothing I could say sounded like it was getting through. He’s a republican so i guess it was kind of fucked from the start. It fucking sucks I had to go to a doctor’s appointment and the tv in the waiting room was just. full blown Israeli propaganda and support and when I tried to ease into a discussion he started acting like I was being tricked and brainwashed and that he was the only one who knew how to find correct sources (his source is Fox News so. and he doesn’t believe in researching both sides, he pretends he does but he doesn’t) I had to leave bc I got called in and pretend I wasn’t shaking with rage and fear. It’s terrifying to see what my Dad has become in recent years. He falls for it every time there’s a “rage bait” propaganda bc he gets so mad he refuses to even entertain that it’s not true. He also refuses to entertain that he could be wrong about anything he believes. It’s fucking mortifying to witness all of this and then watch my family align themselves with such fucking abhorrent evil people. colonizers naturally align with colonizers I guess. I wish I could show them how wrong they are and peel the film off their eyes. I wish I could do something more to make up for their heartless, callous cruelty.
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stuckinapril · 5 months
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23 things I learned in 2023:
Breaking promises to yourself is essentially telling yourself you’re not worthy of commitment or effort.
Listen to people when they tell you who they are.
People put their best foot forward when they first meet you. If they’re already being shitty, it’s likely only going downhill from here.
Self-care isn’t always indulging instant gratification and not doing hard things. I was actually at my most fulfilled when I did hard things DESPITE not feeling like it.
If you’re clinging to other people for fulfillment or validation, you probably don’t like yourself very much.
It’s never the end of the world like we think it is.
If someone wants to walk out of your life, let them. Never be in the business of changing people, even when it comes to changing how they think about you.
Brutally honest communication is everything, but that can also coincide with tactful kindness. Neither is mutually exclusive.
Having a routine makes a massive difference.
Comparison is pointless. No one else has been dealt the same cards you’ve been dealt.
Envy is a waste of time. Instead of being envious of other people, view them as proof of concept.
Self-accountability is important. We are fallible and it’s okay to make mistakes; we just need to own up to them.
Every failure is an opportunity for growth.
Every severed friendship, failed opportunity, lost connection etc etc leaves space for better things to replace it.
We are not tethered to people’s image of us. We are free to change ourselves whenever we please.
It’s not other people’s way, but it’s my way—and that’s all that matters.
Someone denying you love does not erase you.
Piggybacking off the last point—someone not acknowledging the virtues you have doesn’t mean that you don’t have those virtues.
All that really matters are the opinions of the handful of people who truly love you, as well as your opinion of yourself.
Waiting at least 15 minutes before reacting to something. Never trust yourself during the moments when something just hits (learned this the hard way).
Situations are complex and almost never a one size fits all. Asking for advice is okay, but take it with a grain of salt/ultimately follow your own judgment.
Social media isn’t the devil, but scrolling endlessly is. Make an intentional effort to supplant screen time with books and hobbies and friends and tangible, real life things.
We all die one day. None of this is that deep and none of this really matters. Stop taking things so seriously and just enjoy the process 🤍
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birdantlers · 9 months
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
Muting notifs
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sabertoothwalrus · 2 months
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There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.
Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.
There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.
I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.
So anyway, let’s get into it.
Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!
He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.
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But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.
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He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.
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He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.
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He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.
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Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.
And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:
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And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.
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is what he's doing really so different than this? ^
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YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!
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coco-loco-nut · 29 days
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Revelations
pairing: Daniel x reader
summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr
request are open pookie masterlist part 2
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Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.
You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.
“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.
“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.
“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.
“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.
“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.
“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.
Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?
I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.
Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend
Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.
Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.
Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.
“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.
“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.
“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.
“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.
“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.
Last car in, good luck Daniel
I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race
Ok, Daniel, whatever you say
The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.
“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.
Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.
Does this mean I’m off the couch?
Focus.
Sorry.
And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.
LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.
Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.
Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.
“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.
“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.
“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.
“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.
“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.
“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.
“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.
“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.
“THE KIDS?!”
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pucksandpower · 1 month
Text
Live Like We Want To
Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Lewis Hamilton
Summary: there’s only one thing harder than keeping a relationship between two of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden … keeping a relationship between three of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request
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The drivers settle on the awkwardly shaped white couch, microphones clipped carefully to the collars of their shirts, waiting for the pre-race press conference to begin.
Lewis fiddles with his Mercedes cap, lost in thought. Lando and Daniel banter back and forth, Lando ribbing Daniel about his recent attempts to be artsy on Instagram and Daniel giving as good as he gets.
The moderator steps up to begin the press conference. After a few standard questions about the track and the upgrades the teams have brought, it’s time for the driver questions.
A reporter looks over at Lewis. “Lewis, you and Y/N seem very close lately. There’s been speculation you two might be dating. What do you say about that?”
Lewis opens his mouth but before he can respond, Daniel jumps in. “Oh come on, we all know Lewis is way too old for Y/N! She needs someone younger and spicier.” He winks at the camera.
Lando chuckles. “Too right, mate. Y/N deserves a fun guy who actually knows how to have a good time, not someone almost eligible for a senior discount.”
Lewis forces out a rehearsed laugh. “Hey now, I’m not that old!”
“Face it, the age gap is just too much. She needs someone closer to her own age, like me!” Lando says with a grin.
“You?” Daniel scoffs. “Please, Y/N needs a real man to show her a good time, not some baby-faced kid.”
“Who are you calling a kid?” Lando shoots back. “I’m mature for my age!”
Max, who has been quiet up until now, suddenly pipes up. “Actually, I think Y/N and I would make a great match ...”
The other drivers swivel their heads to look at him. “You?” Daniel says in disbelief.
“Why not?” Max shrugs. “We’ve got a connection.”
Lewis grits his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. He wants to tell them all to back off, that you’re taken. But he knows he can’t reveal the truth about your relationship, as much as it pains him to stay silent.
Lando laughs. “Mate, she’s way out of your league!”
“Oh yeah? I could get her if I wanted to,” Max says defensively.
Daniel grins and claps Max on the back. “Ooh, those are fighting words! You don’t stand a chance.”
Max crosses his arms. “Maybe she likes a bad boy. I’m more exciting than any of you.”
“Exciting? You?” Lando pretends to yawn. “All you ever think about off the track is sim racing! That’s not exciting, it’s dull.”
“Hey! Sim racing is very intense and takes a lot of skill,” Max says indignantly.
Lewis has finally had enough. “Alright guys, maybe we should change the subject. I’m sure Y/N can decide for herself who she wants to spend time with, without all of us bickering over her.”
Lando ignores Lewis and looks back at Max, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I bet I could get Y/N to go out with me before you can.”
“You’re so on!” Max says.
Daniel shakes his head. “Woah now, let’s leave the poor girl out of your competition. Especially since neither of you have a chance anyway.”
“Oh really? I suppose you think you’re the obvious choice?” Max says sarcastically.
“Obviously!” Daniel replies with a cocky grin.
As the three younger drivers continue with their posturing, Lewis pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. He catches the moderator’s eye and nods, signaling it’s time to move on.
The moderator clears his throat. “Alright, next question ...”
After the press conference ends, Lewis hurriedly gathers his things. As he’s walking out of the media center, Max catches up to him.
“No hard feelings about all that, mate?” Max says sheepishly.
Lewis musters up a smile. “Of course not. It was all in good fun.”
“Cool.” Max nods. “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually have a thing for Y/N. I was just messing around back there.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says, clapping Max just a tad too hard on the shoulder before turning to go. Over his shoulder he calls out, “May the best man win!”
Max laughs and shakes his head as Lewis walks away.
Lewis enters the Mercedes garage and immediately spots you chatting with the engineers. His heart skips a beat like it always does when he sees you. A vision in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you lean over a data sheet, nodding intently.
So beautiful.
You glance up and spot Lewis. Your face lights up, a radiant smile spreading across it. Lewis grins back, the stress of the press conference fading away.
He waits until you’re done talking to the engineers, then pulls you discreetly aside. In an empty meeting room, Lewis wraps you in a tight embrace.
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling your hair.
You cling to him. “I missed you. How was the press conference?”
Lewis hesitates. “It was … interesting.”
You pull back to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there were some questions about us. Our relationship.”
Your eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. But the other drivers jumped in with their opinions.”
You groan. “Do I even want to know?”
Lewis runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Well, apparently I’m way too old for you. Daniel, Lando, and Max all started competing over who would be your best match.”
You snort. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says. “I wanted to tell them you’re mine, but ...”
“You did the right thing keeping quiet,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy, keeping our relationship a secret.”
Lewis sighs. “I just hate not being able to claim you as my girlfriend in public. Having to pretend I don’t care when other guys flirt with you.”
You squeeze his hands supportively. “I know. But my dad would freak if he knew I was dating you. He’s so overprotective. And the press would have a field day if they found out Lewis Hamilton was seeing Toto Wolff’s daughter.”
“You’re right,” Lewis says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
You smile softly at him. “Just think, one day we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll be out and proud for the whole world to see.”
Lewis grins. “I look forward to that day.” He pauses, gazing at you tenderly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Lewis glances around quickly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. All the stress and frustration of pretending melts away as your lips meet.
You come up for air a few moments later, both flushed. “We should get back before someone notices we’re gone,” you murmur.
Lewis nods reluctantly. “See you after quali?”
“Definitely.” You give him one more quick peck then slip out of the room, back to the bustle of the paddock.
Lewis watches you leave, his heart full.
One day there will be no more hiding. One day you’ll be free to share your love with the world.
He just has to be patient. You’re worth the wait.
***
You’re sitting outside of Mercedes hospitality between practice sessions, chatting with Mick Schumacher. Mick is eagerly telling you about his experience getting to take the W15 out in FP1 that morning when Charles Leclerc wanders over.
“Hello Y/N, Mick,” Charles says with an easy smile.
“Oh hey Charles, what’s up?” You say casually, hoping he makes this quick. Ever since that silly press conference, Charles has been popping up everywhere trying to get your attention.
“Not much. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Charles says, ignoring Mick and focusing his gaze on you.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Um, thanks?”
Mick glances between you two and starts to stand up. “I’ll give you guys some space.”
“No, stay!” You say quickly, grabbing Mick’s arm. You turn back to Charles. “Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to come say hi, see how you’re doing.” Charles drags over a chair and sits down close beside you. Too close.
You slide your chair away ever so slightly. “I’m fine, thanks. Just hanging with Mick.”
Charles nods, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “Have you given any more thought to grabbing dinner sometime? I know this great little restaurant in the city, very private and intimate.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll have to pass,” you say politely. Mick looks back and forth between you two, a faint smirk on his face.
Charles pouts. “Come on, it would be fun! No pressure, just two friends enjoying a nice meal.”
You resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think you’re that naive? “Sorry Charles, but I’m going to be really busy this weekend. Raincheck?” You have no intention of ever taking him up on the offer, but maybe it will get him to back off for now.
“Playing hard to get? I like it,” Charles winks.
You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you really think. Time for a subject change. “So, you feeling good about the race this weekend?”
Charles sighs, finally moving away from the topic of dating you. “I think the car has potential, but Red Bull are still the ones to beat.”
You nod. “Very true. They have been especially dominant here the past few years.”
“We’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get pole and shock them all,” Charles says with a smile.
You chat about racing for a few more minutes before glancing at your phone. “Oh shoot, I have to get going. Meeting with my manager.” You stand up quickly. “See you later Charles. Bye Mick!”
Charles grabs your hand as you start to walk away. “Leaving already? At least let me walk you to your garage.”
You pull your hand back, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, thanks. Stay and chat with Mick!” You give them a little wave before briskly walking off.
As you make your way through the paddock you hear footsteps behind you. Glancing back you see Charles jogging to catch up with you. You bite back a groan.
“Y/N, wait up!” Charles calls after you. He hurries to your side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just thought I should properly apologize for being so forward back there. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
You stop walking and turn to face him. “It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
He looks relieved. “Good, I’m glad. The last thing I want is to upset you.” He shuffles his feet, looking down shyly. “I really do think you’re amazing, Y/N. Any guy would be so lucky to be with you.”
You soften a bit. As persistent as he is, you know Charles is a good guy at heart. “Thank you. I think you’ll find the right girl someday.”
“Well, I was rather hoping the right girl was standing in front of me now,” Charles says earnestly.
You shake your head. “Charles ...”
“I know, I’m being too bold again,” he says. “Please, just consider it? One dinner. If you hate it and never want to see me again, I’ll accept that.”
You hesitate. Maybe it would be easier to just go, let him down gently in person. But no … that’s too risky. If word got out it could compromise everything with Lewis. As much as you want to set Charles straight, you just have to keep playing hard to get.
“Like I said, just too busy right now,” you say firmly. “I should get to my meeting.”
Charles nods, looking slightly dejected. “Of course. Well, the offer stands. I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiles and heads off with a small wave.
Over the next two days Charles remains persistent, finding excuses to talk to you in the paddock and complimenting you endlessly on social media. You continue dodging his invitations, letting him down as gently as you can.
Sunday morning you’re doing a photoshoot for British Vogue, posing on the track. Charles happens to walk by as you’re finishing up. He saunters over and leans on the barrier, watching you intently. The photographer notices him hovering and suggests you take a quick picture together.
Charles immediately hops the barrier and throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You plaster on a smile as the camera flashes.
“Beautiful! What an attractive couple,” the photographer gushes.
You extricate yourself from Charles’ grip. “We’re not … I mean we’re just friends,” you mutter.
“My mistake!” The photographer says. Charles just grins.
After the photoshoot ends you try to make a quick exit but Charles catches up and falls into step beside you.
“One picture together and we’re already mistaken for a couple! It must be a sign,” Charles says playfully.
You resist rolling your eyes again. “Clearly you’re not getting the message here. I’m not interested in anything beyond friendship.”
Charles just smiles wider. “Ah, but friendship is the basis for any lasting romance. I’m happy to start as friends and see where it goes.”
You stop walking and turn to him. Time for some straight talk. “Charles. Listen to me. I do not want to date you. At all. Please stop asking.”
Charles’ smile finally falters slightly. “I see. My apologies, I clearly misread the situation.”
You feel a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen face. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just forget it and move on.”
Charles nods, looking thoughtful. For a moment you think maybe he’s finally going to back off. But after a pause he says, “Well, since romance is off the table for now, friendship it is.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real?
Oblivious to your incredulous expression, Charles just keeps talking. “The season’s almost over, but I look forward to seeing much more of you next year when Lewis is my new teammate.” He winks.
It takes you a second to process his words. When they sink in your eyes go wide. “Wait, Lewis is joining Ferrari next season?”
“Oh, has it not been announced yet?” Charles grins mischievously. “My mistake. Forget I said anything.”
You grab his arm. “Charles, tell me!”
He mimes zipping his lips.
You groan in frustration. “Ugh, fine. Keep your secret for now.” You’ll get the truth out of Lewis later.
Charles just smiles innocently. “See you around, friend.” He strolls off with a little wave, finally leaving you in peace.
You shake your head as you watch him go. Next year is sure to be interesting with Charles around. But you take comfort knowing that no matter what, you and Lewis can get through it together.
***
The 2025 season kicks off in Melbourne. You’re wandering the paddock under the bright Australian sun, dodging TV crews and trying not to get run over by the team scooters zipping every which way.
As you pass by the Ferrari garage you peek inside, spotting Lewis talking to some engineers. He glances up and meets your eye, giving you a subtle smile before returning to his conversation.
Your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s been nonstop media obligations since arriving in Albert Park and you haven’t had a moment alone with Lewis yet. Between his big move to Ferrari and the speculation about your relationship, you’ve been the center of attention.
You linger nearby, hoping to snag a private moment with Lewis. As you hover just outside the garage you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing over you see Charles strolling up, looking effortlessly cool in his team kit.
“Well hello there,” Charles says with a grin. “Come to wish me luck before qualifying?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “You caught me. I snuck over to send positive vibes your way.”
Charles chuckles. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming to see me.”
You shake your head amusedly. Same old Charles. “Actually I was looking for Lew-” you stop yourself just in time. “Um, just wandering around saying hi to everyone!”
Charles’ eyes gleam knowingly but he doesn’t call you out on your near slip-up. “Of course. We’re happy to have Lewis join the Ferrari family. Should be a fun season.”
You nod. “Definitely. I might have to frequent the Ferrari garage more often,” you add teasingly.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” Charles says. “In fact, there’s an open seat on my side of the garage. You’re more than welcome to join.” He smiles invitingly.
You hesitate, tempted despite yourself. Before you can respond you hear Lewis calling Charles from inside the garage.
“Charles! The debrief is starting soon, let’s go.”
Charles turns back to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Duty calls. But think about my offer, yeah? Plenty of races left this season for you to cheer on your favorite driver.” He winks before jogging into the garage.
You catch Lewis’ eye as Charles brushes past him. Lewis gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile reassuringly before blowing him a subtle kiss and walking away.
Over the next few races you find yourself spending more time with Ferrari than you expected. You tell yourself it’s just to support Lewis in his first season with a new team, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s really to see Charles.
Despite your better judgment, you can’t deny enjoying Charles’ flirty banter and shameless pursuit of you. And clearly he doesn’t intend to back down now that Lewis is his teammate. If anything, Charles seems more determined than ever to win your affection.
By the time the Chinese Grand Prix rolls around, you’re dangerously close to having a full blown crush on Charles. Sitting in the Ferrari garage watching him joke around with the mechanics, you have to refrain from staring at him too obviously.
After qualifying, you wait around hoping Lewis or Charles have time to sneak away for a bit. You spot Lewis first and flag him down. He follows you to a secluded spot behind the paddock.
“Great lap today,” you say, rising on tiptoes to kiss him congratulations.
Lewis smiles against your lips but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. “Thanks love. Listen, can we talk?”
You pull back, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, what’s up?”
Lewis runs a hand over his face. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling about this whole situation with Charles.”
You tense up slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And if I’m being honest … I’ve noticed some looks going the other direction as well.” Lewis keeps his voice neutral and non-accusatory.
You bite your lip. No point lying to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore him at first but he’s just so charming and persistent. I swear nothing has happened between us though!” You add hastily.
Lewis rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe you, don’t worry. But it seems there might be some mutual attraction there, even if you haven’t acted upon it. I think we should discuss that openly.”
You nod slowly. As nerve wracking as this conversation is, you appreciate Lewis’ calm approach. No jealousy or accusations, just honest communication.
“You’re right,” you say. “I’ve been trying really hard not to, but I can’t deny feeling drawn to Charles.” You look down, ashamed to admit it out loud.
Lewis lifts your chin gently. “Hey, it’s okay. Emotions aren’t always rational. I’m not upset with you.”
You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, you know that? What did I do to deserve someone so understanding?”
“Just got lucky I guess,” Lewis says with a wink, making you laugh. His expression turns serious again. “But we should figure out what to do moving forward. Any ideas?”
You take a deep breath. Time to put all cards on the table. “Well, there is one possibility. But it’s a bit unconventional ...”
Lewis raises his eyebrows. “I’m open to anything. What were you thinking?”
You rush out your words before you lose your nerve. “What if we brought Charles into the relationship? As in, invited him to be with us?”
Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t immediately shoot down the suggestion. “You mean the three of us, together? Huh.”
He looks thoughtful. You fidget nervously awaiting his verdict. This could make or break everything.
Finally Lewis meets your anxious gaze. “I admit that’s not what I was envisioning … but I’m not opposed to at least exploring it.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “Really? You’d be open to trying?”
Lewis nods slowly. “If we all discussed it openly and set clear boundaries, I would consider it. I want you to be happy, Y/N. Even if that means expanding our relationship.”
You throw your arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to have your support with this.”
Lewis hugs you tight. “Of course, love. We’re in this together.”
You chat excitedly about the possibility of bringing Charles into your private world. It’s risky, but maybe just crazy enough to work.
“Why don’t we invite him up to the penthouse tonight and see how the chemistry is?” Lewis suggests.
Your pulse quickens at the thought. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Lewis kisses you softly. “Alright then, it’s a date. I think you should go talk to Charles.”
Tonight will determine if you move forward as a trio or close the door on this tantalizing new dynamic. Either way, you’re grateful to be exploring it together with the man you love.
***
You smooth down your dress for the tenth time, nerves and excitement warring within you.
Tonight’s the night.
Taking a deep breath, you glance around the penthouse one more time. Candles cast a soft glow, music plays quietly in the background, and wine chills on the counter. Time to see if this fantasy can become a reality.
Lewis emerges from the bedroom looking unfairly hot, designer shirt hugging his muscular frame. He wraps you in his arms from behind, meeting your anxious gaze in the floor-length mirror.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, lips brushing your neck.
You shiver and lean back into him. “I think so. Are you sure you’re okay with it though? We can call it off if you’ve changed your mind.”
Lewis smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t. We’ll take it slow and see how it feels. No pressure.”
You smile back gratefully. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
“Mm, feel free to say it more,” Lewis teases, making you giggle. He kisses you tenderly. “Let’s do this.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rings. You and Lewis exchange one more weighted look before going to answer it.
You open the door to find Charles standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as always. His eyes widen almost comically as he sees Lewis over your shoulder.
“Lewis! What are you doing here?” Charles stammers out.
You bite your lip to hide a smile. “Why don’t you come in?”
Still looking baffled, Charles steps inside. You lead him to the sleek living room, Charles glancing around in confusion.
“Have a seat,” Lewis says kindly. Charles perches on the edge of the grey suede couch, visibly wondering what the hell is going on. You and Lewis sit across from him on the loveseat.
“So … is one of you going to explain what’s happening?” Charles asks slowly.
You look to Lewis. “Maybe you should start?”
Lewis nods and turns to Charles. “Right, so I’m sure you’re very confused about all this. But there’s something Y/N and I need to tell you.”
He reaches over and takes your hand. You give it a supportive squeeze.
“Y/N and I are together. Romantically,” Lewis reveals. “We’ve been dating in secret for over two years now.”
Charles’ eyes bug out of his head. “You two are … WHAT? Since when?”
“Since midway through the 2022 season,” you explain gently.
“But … but ...” Charles splutters. He looks between you and Lewis, dumbfounded. It would be comical if you weren’t so nervous.
“I know this must be shocking to hear,” you say. “We’ve had to keep it very quiet.”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. If you’re together, why am I here?”
You glance at Lewis. “Go on,” he says with an encouraging nod.
You turn back to Charles. “Well, the thing is … we’re very attracted to you too, Charles.”
Charles freezes, eyes zeroing in on you. “You … you are?” He whispers.
You nod, holding his gaze. “I tried to ignore it, but I have feelings for you. And Lewis and I have discussed exploring what it would be like if the three of us … were together.”
Charles just stares, mouth agape. You start to worry you’ve broken him.
“Charles?” You prompt gently. “Thoughts?”
Charles visibly shakes himself. “I just … I need a minute here,” he mutters. He puts his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.
You nod understandingly and fall silent, letting the information sink in. After a tense minute, Charles lifts his head.
“So you two want to try some kind of … polyamorous relationship? With me as your shared boyfriend?”
“Only if you’re interested,” Lewis clarifies. “We know it’s unconventional.”
Charles chews his lip thoughtfully. “And you would be okay sharing her?” He asks Lewis.
Lewis squeezes your hand. “It’s not about possessing her. It’s about all of us wanting to explore something together. I trust you both.”
Your heart swells with love for this incredible man. Charles looks touched as well.
“I appreciate you putting your trust in me,” Charles says earnestly. “This is a lot to process but … I’m open to trying.” He looks between you and Lewis. “I want this. If you’ll have me.”
Joy and arousal flood your body hearing those words. You glance at Lewis to confirm.
He smiles. “We want you, Charles.”
Charles’ eyes darken. He stands up from the couch and closes the distance between you. Gazing down at you, he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.
You nod, heart hammering in your chest. Charles’ hand slides into your hair and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is electric, your body lighting up everywhere you touch.
After a dizzying minute you break apart, flushed and breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning.
“I want you,” he whispers. “I want this.”
Your pulse racing, you turn and pull Lewis into a passionate kiss. You pour all your need and love into it, leaving no doubt that you want him just as much.
Lewis’ eyes are dark when you separate. Without a word, he stands and holds his hand out to Charles. Charles takes it immediately. They stare at each other for a weighted moment before Lewis reels him in for a searing kiss.
You can only watch, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the two gorgeous men exploring each other. They kiss aggressively, hands roaming over backs and arms. Finally they break apart, panting.
Charles turns to you, eyes blazing. In two strides he’s kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasps out. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want this. I want this so much,” you affirm breathlessly.
Charles surges up to capture your lips again. Lewis moves behind you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. Sandwiched between them, you’ve never felt more alive.
You have a fleeting thought that you should slow down, take things step by step. But as their hands and lips worship your body, reason melts away.
Tonight you’ll explore each other fully and forge this new bond that transcends convention. Tomorrow you can discuss logistics.
Charles kisses you hungrily while Lewis deftly unzips your dress, letting it slip to the floor. His hands glide over your newly exposed skin as Charles trails kisses down your neck to your lace-clad breasts.
Lewis reaches around to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to Charles’ eager mouth. You gasp and arch into his touch as his tongue swirls around one nipple, then the other.
Lewis captures your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His hands roam your body, caressing your hips and rear before slipping into your panties. You keen against his mouth as his fingers find your slick heat.
Charles kisses his way down your trembling body until he’s kneeling before you. Locking eyes with you, he slowly peels off your panties. Lewis moves behind you, arms wrapped around you, hands still working their magic between your legs.
Charles parts your thighs and dives in hungrily. You cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you, the dual sensations pushing you quickly to the edge. Your pleasured screams echo through the penthouse as you come undone between these two incredible men.
They lay you gently on the plush rug, hands and mouths continuing to ignite fires across your hypersensitive skin. You reach for them frantically, needing to feel them too. Together you undress them with eager hands until all three of you are bare and flushed with need.
Lewis kisses his way down your body until his head is between your legs, stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. His talented tongue gets to work, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as you grasp his braids, back arching off the rug.
Charles moves up your body to take a hard nipple in his mouth, fingers tweaking and plucking the other. The near-overstimulation makes you see stars, crying out louder as Lewis’ fingers join his mouth in driving you to euphoria.
As you come down from your high, panting and trembling, Charles captures your lips in a messy kiss. You taste yourself and your favorite body oil on his tongue as he grinds his hard length against your hip. Guiding him up further, you take him in your mouth eagerly, reveling in his groans of pleasure.
Lewis slides up behind you, hardness nudging your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, filling you up exquisitely. You moan around Charles in your mouth as Lewis sets a steady rhythm. Charles’ eyes are nearly black watching Lewis take you from behind.
Charles gently pulls out of your mouth, moving down to kiss Lewis passionately. Their tongues tangle as Lewis continues rocking into you. The erotic sight makes you clench around Lewis. Sensing you’re close, he reaches around to circle your clit until you shatter again.
As you float back down, Lewis slips out from behind you and lays on his back. You straddle him eagerly, taking him back inside your slick heat. Charles moves in behind you, grasping your hips. Feeling his tip brush your back entrance, you glance back and nod consent.
Charles pushes into your other hole slowly as Lewis praises you for taking them both so well. Sandwiched between their hard bodies, filled so exquisitely, you feel worshipped and desired. They find a synchronized rhythm, driving you higher until you’re screaming out your pleasure again.
Lewis follows you over the edge, your pulsing muscles milking him dry with a growl. Charles takes over, pounding into you relentlessly until he stills, spilling deep inside with a choked cry.
You collapse together in a satisfied, breathless tangle of limbs. Trading soft kisses and caresses, you bask in the afterglow of this new bond forged in passion. Staring into your boys’ sated eyes, you know you’ve found something extraordinary.
For now, you are content to let passion consume you, losing yourself in two sets of hands, two mouths worshipping every inch of you.
Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, your world has expanded to make room for three.
***
The new season is in full swing and your blossoming relationship could not be going better. Stealing moments alone is a challenge, but the time you spend together makes it all worthwhile.
The only downside is how difficult it is for Charles to hide his feelings for you in public. While Lewis has had practice concealing your relationship for years now, Charles is still learning restraint. His affection for you shines through in lingering looks and subtle touches that don’t go unnoticed.
During one pre-race press conference, things come to a head. You’re standing just off stage, watching proudly as Charles and Lewis field questions.
A reporter looks over at Charles. “Charles, we’ve noticed Y/N hanging around the Ferrari garage a lot this season. Any insight into why the daughter of the Mercedes team principal spends so much time with your team instead?”
Charles tenses, panic flashing across his face. Before he can respond, Pierre Gasly pipes up from the end of the table.
“She’s always welcome to spend time with Alpine too!” Pierre says with a playful wink your direction. “Our garage door is open for you anytime, chérie.”
Charles’ hand clenches into a fist under the table. You can see him biting his tongue, holding back from saying that you’re taken.
Lewis discretely reaches over and lays a calming hand on Charles’ arm. Charles takes a deep breath, the brief touch grounding him.
“Y/N is friends with many drivers, not just myself,” Charles says evenly. “She offers encouragement to everyone on the grid.”
You let out the breath you’d been holding. Crisis averted, for now. But the reporters look unsatisfied with Charles’ generic response.
One speaks up again. “Come on Charles, you two seem especially close lately. Anything you want to tell us about the nature of your relationship?”
Charles’ eyes flick towards you. He opens his mouth but hesitates.
Lewis jumps in. “Like Charles said, Y/N is a supportive friend to all the drivers. We’re lucky to have her around.” He steers the conversation to less dangerous waters and the questions about you cease.
After the press conference, Charles makes a beeline for you. Taking your hands, he searches your face anxiously.
“I’m so sorry. I nearly slipped up and exposed everything. I just couldn’t stand Pierre flirting with you like that.”
You smile reassuringly, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s okay, you stopped yourself in time. I know it’s not easy.”
Lewis joins you two in your hidden corner. He squeezes Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “You handled it well, babe. I know firsthand how hard it is to stay silent.”
Charles sighs. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Lying about the woman I lo-” He stops himself. “About someone so important is torture.”
Your heart skips a beat. Lewis meets your gaze, equally affected by Charles’ unspoken words.
Taking Charles’ face in your hands, you kiss him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have not just one, but two incredible men willing to go through all this for my sake. I promise, it won’t be forever.”
Charles relaxes into your touch. Lewis moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Charles covers Lewis’ hands with his own. The three of you share a quiet, tender moment before stepping back out into the bustle of race day.
That evening after the race, the three of you finally have time alone back at the hotel. Lewis pours champagne while you massage the tension from Charles’ shoulders.
“What Pierre said today was out of line,” you murmur. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, in every way that matters.” You press a kiss to his neck.
Charles twists to capture your lips. “I know. It just drives me crazy seeing other men try to take what’s mine.” His tone is playful yet possessive in a way that makes you shiver.
“Let them flirt all they want,” Lewis says, handing Charles a glass of champagne. “She only has eyes for us.”
You and Charles both smile at Lewis’ quiet confidence. Taking your glass, you raise it in a toast. “To the apples of my eye. Here’s to a long future together.”
You clink glasses and sip, eyes locking over the rims. Setting your glass aside, you take each of their hands in yours.
“I know keeping this secret isn’t easy. But it will be so worth it in the end, when we can stop hiding and be together openly. We just have to be patient a little longer.”
Lewis squeezes your hand, emotion shining in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, darling.”
Charles cradles your face adoringly. “A thousand times over.”
Your heart swells being surrounded by such unwavering love and support. Despite the challenges, in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.
The rest of the night is spent getting lost in each other, reaffirming the bonds between you. Fingers intertwined, bodies moving as one, you bask in the oasis you’ve created amidst the pressures of your public lives.
Tomorrow you’ll go back to pretending, dodging prying questions and curious stares. But here, cocooned in this hotel room, you’re simply three people entwined by love. Partners promising without words to stand united until the day your relationship can step into the light.
For now, secrecy is a small price to pay for a love unlike any other.
***
The azure waters of the Mediterranean glisten under the Sardinian sun as you lounge on the deck of the yacht. Lewis rubs sunscreen slowly over your shoulders, his touch sending tingles through your body.
Charles emerges from the water, rivulets streaming down his toned chest. He joins you on the loungers, shaking his wet hair playfully over you and Lewis. You squeal and swat him away, laughing.
These past two weeks sailing around Sardinia have been pure bliss. Finally you can be as affectionate as you want, stealing kisses and cuddling close without worrying who might see. You’ve explored every inch of this yacht and each other’s bodies. After keeping your relationship under wraps, it’s glorious being so free.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sigh contentedly.
“Soon, love,” Lewis says, pulling you close. “Just have to get through this season.”
Charles nods, trailing his fingers down your arm. “It will all be worth it in the end.”
You smile softly at them both, heart swelling with love. “You’re right. As long as we’re together.”
You while away the rest of the afternoon trading lazy kisses and caresses, basking in the sun and each other.
That night, fireworks burst bright over the inky sea. You tilt your head back against Charles’ chest, watching the rainbow sparks. Lewis nuzzles your neck from behind, arms wrapped around your waist.
“I love you both,” you whisper as gold and purple light up the sky. Charles kisses your temple while Lewis squeezes you gently. You’ve never felt so full of love and joy.
Then, you all fly to Lewis’ villa in Brazil for the rest of summer break. The days pass in a carefree blur — lounging by the pool, sunset walks on the beach, and passion-filled nights tangled together in bed.
Charles cooks dinner shirtless one evening, playfully feeding you and Lewis bites as you sip wine. Lewis pulls you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen, the three of you laughing breathlessly.
“If only this could never end,” you say wistfully, pulling them in for a group hug.
“One day, baby,” Lewis murmurs, kissing your hair. Charles rubs your back, gazing at you tenderly.
You etch every moment into your memory, from languid mornings waking up between them to romantic picnics at sunset on the beach.
If only you could freeze time and stay in this private paradise.
But of course, time marches on. Before you know it, the break ends and you’re headed to the Netherlands for the start of the second half of the season.
Walking through Zandvoort a friendly distance from Charles and Lewis, everything feels different now. You have to stop yourself from being too openly affectionate, hyperaware of prying eyes.
Lewis senses your tension. “Soon this will all be out in the open,” he reminds you softly. The secret aspect still weighs on you all, but the promise of a future without hiding lifts your spirits.
On Thursday, just a few days before the race, you’re leaving the motorhome when your phone explodes with notifications. With a sinking sense of dread, you open social media to see leaked paparazzi shots plastered everywhere — the three of you kissing on the yacht, Lewis’ hands blatantly grabbing your rear in Brazil, you and Charles making out poolside.
You stagger back against the wall, blood rushing in your ears. This is a nightmare. Your private oasis shattered, your relationship outed in the most public, scandalous way possible.
Charles exits behind you and his face pales seeing your expression. Lewis comes around the corner a second later and you wordlessly show him your phone screen.
“Fuck,” Lewis swears. “Where did these come from?”
“I don’t know, they’re everywhere,” you say shakily.
Charles peers over your shoulder, jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”
You’re confused only for a second before you hear the swell of voices and footsteps rapidly approaching. Security won’t hold the media mob back for long.
Charles and Lewis spring into action, flanking you protectively as you hurry back towards the entrance. Halfway there, the dam breaks as reporters and cameras flood the paddock. You freeze like a deer in headlights.
Chaos erupts, cameras flashing, mics shoved in your faces, everyone shouting questions at once. Charles and Lewis shield you from the onslaught, yelling for security. Two guards appear and help navigate you through the frenzy back into the Ferrari motorhome.
You collapse on the sofa, heart pounding. Lewis paces angrily while Charles punches the wall. “Fuck! We were so careful,” he rages.
You blink back panicked tears. “What do we do now?”
Lewis sits and pulls you into his arms. “We face it head on. No more hiding. We own this together.”
Charles kneels before you, clasping your hands. “I’m with you no matter what. We’ll get through this.”
You cling to them, anchoring yourself. As long as you have each other, you can survive the storm.
You’ve just managed to catch your breath when the door flies open. Your head whips up to see none other than your father storming in, fury etched on his face.
“What the HELL is going on here?” He thunders.
You shrink back against Lewis. This is already a disaster — but your enraged, overprotective father finding out like this? You brace yourself as his glare pins you in place, demanding an explanation.
Toto slams the door behind him, eyes blazing like you’ve never seen before.
“Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” He shouts. “Because I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my daughter is splashed all over the tabloids in compromising photos with her secret boyfriends!”
You shrink back against Lewis, tears pooling in your eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you.
“Toto, let’s all just take a breath and talk about this,” Lewis says calmly.
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Toto snarls, pointing a finger at Lewis. “You are supposed to be teammates and instead you’re … you’re ...” He splutters, at a loss for words.
“We’re in a relationship,” Charles says firmly, taking your hand. “The three of us.”
“A relationship?” Toto looks apoplectic. “She is my daughter!”
“Who makes her own choices,” Charles shoots back. “She’s an adult.”
Toto ignores him, glaring at Lewis and you. “I trusted you with her. And this is how you repay that trust?”
Lewis squeezes your shoulder gently before standing up to face Toto. “I understand you’re upset. But our relationship isn’t about you.”
“The hell it isn’t!” Toto shouts. “I am her father!”
“Stop yelling at them!” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.
Toto falters slightly seeing your distress. Charles pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and glaring at Toto.
“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?” Charles snaps. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”
Toto looks back and forth between the three of you, anger warring with confusion. Lewis takes a cautious step toward him.
“I know this is a shock,” Lewis says evenly. “But we didn’t intend for it to come out like this.”
He gestures for Toto to have a seat. After a tense moment Toto sinks into the armchair, face still thunderous. Lewis sits back down beside you.
“Help me understand this,” Toto says tightly. “Clearly this … arrangement has been going on behind my back for some time.”
You take a shaky breath. “We’ve been together since the start of the season. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we knew you would react badly.”
Toto drags a hand down his face. “You cannot expect me to be happy about this. My daughter dating two men at once? One of whom used to be my employee?”
“We don’t need your approval,” Charles says firmly. “All that matters is that we love each other. Right?”
He looks at you and Lewis. You both nod, Lewis taking your hand supportively.
“She’s right,” Lewis tells Toto. “We don’t need your blessing. But we want you to understand this is real, not just some fling or scandal.”
You look pleadingly at your father. “Please Vati, try to understand. I’ve never been happier than with these two.”
Toto stares back stonily. The silence stretches on. You feel Charles and Lewis tense on either side of you, bracing for Toto’s wrath.
Finally Toto sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “You’ve always been my sweet girl. My only wish is for your happiness and safety.”
He levels Charles and Lewis with a piercing look. “If either of you two hurts her, they’ll never find your bodies. Understand?”
Charles and Lewis both nod rapidly.
“We would never,” Lewis vows.
“Good. See that you don’t.” Toto turns back to you, expression softening. “This will take some adjustment. But I suppose if you’re happy ...”
“I am, I promise,” you assure him.
Toto shakes his head. “Well, try to keep the sordid details to yourself please.”
You huff out a wet laugh, wiping your eyes. “Deal.”
Toto nods stiffly and stands. Looking between the three of you, his face settles into resignation.
“I will do my best to … adjust to this,” he mutters. “But no funny business at the track!”
He points sternly at Charles and Lewis again. They both work to keep straight faces.
“Of course, totally professional at all times,” Lewis promises solemnly.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” Toto heads for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns back.
“You’re still my little girl. I just want you safe and happy.”
You smile tearfully. “I know. Thank you.”
With a grunt and final glare at Charles and Lewis, Toto takes his leave.
The moment the door shuts, you collapse into their arms in relief. Laughing and crying all at once.
“That could have gone worse,” Charles remarks.
Lewis chuckles. “He only threatened us a little bit.”
You kiss them softly. “I can’t believe you stood up to him for me.”
Charles caresses your face. “Always.”
“We meant what we said — we’re in this together, no matter what,” Lewis affirms.
You cling to each other, coming down from the emotional rollercoaster. The worst is over. Your relationship is out in the open now. The media will have a field day, but you can weather any storm with your men by your side.
“So ...” you say with a watery laugh. “Who wants to handle the press release?”
***
The news of your relationship with Lewis and Charles has sent shockwaves through the paddock. You knew it would be a scandal, but the sheer scale of the reaction has been overwhelming.
Thankfully you’ve had each other to cling to through the firestorm. Their love and support keeps you strong in the face of snarling reporters and leering drivers.
In the Ferrari garage a few days later, Lewis has his arms wrapped around you, placing gentle kisses to your hair as you discuss weekend plans. Charles is in the engineering room, focused on prep for the upcoming race.
The two of you are in your own world together when Lando sheepishly approaches. "Hey mates, can I talk to you both for a sec?"
You tense instinctively and Lewis’ arm tightens around you protectively. But Lando’s face is regretful, not leering. “What’s up?” Lewis asks calmly.
Lando shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for all the times I hit on Y/N and crossed the line. I feel proper ashamed about it now that I know she was with you two. You deserve better from a friend.”
You and Lewis share a surprised look. Before you can respond, Pierre joins Lando, gazing at you repentantly.
“I want to also apologize,” Pierre says. “It was wrong of me to overstep boundaries and disrespect your relationship. I’m sorry.”
You bite your tongue, holding back what you really want to say. As usual, they’re ignoring you and directing apologies to Lewis instead.
Sensing your reaction, Lewis speaks up. “We appreciate you owning up to it, but I think Y/N deserves your apologies more. She’s the one you objectified and disrespected with the unwanted advances, after all.”
Lando and Pierre have the decency to look abashed. “You’re completely right, that was thoughtless of me,” Lando says. “I’m truly sorry for ever making you feel uncomfortable or pressured, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”
Pierre nods. “Please accept my sincere apologies as well. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and respected your privacy.”
You give them a stiff smile. “Thank you. Just please think about how your words and actions affect women as fellow human beings, not just as conquests or property.”
Lando and Pierre both nod earnestly before excusing themselves. As they walk away Lewis kisses your temple. “Well handled, love. How are you feeling?”
You sigh heavily. “I appreciate the apologies, but it still stings that they only considered your feelings initially, not mine.”
Lewis makes a sympathetic noise and hugs you close. “You deserve so much more respect. I’m sorry this has all been so ugly.”
You cling to him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “As long as I have you and Charles, I can face anything.”
Lewis is about to reply when footsteps approach again. You tense, but it’s only Charles this time. His smile fades seeing your expression.
“Everything okay here?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You explain what just happened with Lando and Pierre. Charles’ eyes flash. “They are lucky I wasn’t here. I would have had a thing or two to say about them disrespecting you like that.”
You smile softly, touched by his protectiveness. “My heroes. However would I cope without you two defending my honor?”
Lewis tickles your side playfully. “We have to protect our lady’s virtue!”
You swat him away, laughing. Charles kisses the top of your head. “Joking aside, you never have to tolerate that behavior again. Not with us here.”
“I know,” you reply, snuggling into them happily. "My gallant protectors."
***
“Home sweet home,” you declare as the car pulls up the long driveway to your family’s sprawling Swiss estate.
Lewis lets out an impressed whistle from the backseat. “This is incredible!”
“Just wait until you see inside,” you grin at him in the rearview mirror.
You had kept putting off bringing Lewis and Charles here but it was finally time for them to see where you grew up.
They grab your bags as you lead them inside the grand foyer with its sweeping marble staircase. Lewis and Charles gaze around, taking in the ornate moldings and priceless artwork adorning the walls.
“I know it’s a bit ... much,” you say self-consciously.
“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!” Lewis crows, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.
You give them a brief tour of the endless sitting rooms, home theater, indoor pool, and your father’s meticulously organized garage housing his impressive car collection.
Finally you bring them upstairs to the family bedrooms. With a deep breath, you push open the door to your childhood room.
Lewis and Charles follow you in, peering around with interest at the spacious suite with its canopy bed, plush seating area, and panoramic mountain views.
You watch nervously as Lewis wanders over to your bookshelf and Charles admires the view from the French doors. Waiting for their judgment, you feel self-conscious about your privileged upbringing.
Suddenly Charles points to your wall and turns to you with a grin. “Well well, what do we have here?”
You follow his gaze to the life-size posters still occupying prime real estate on your wall, relics from your starry-eyed teen years. A young Lewis from his early Mercedes days gazes broodingly down, next to a smirking teenage Charles in his Prema race suit from back in F2.
“Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot those were there!” You groan, covering your rapidly reddening face.
Lewis chuckles, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Aww, someone had a little crush, did they?” He teases.
“It was years ago!” You protest through your fingers.
Charles pries your hands away, smiling affectionately. “It’s cute you were our fan. Never be embarrassed for having good taste in drivers,” he winks.
Lewis kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry love, we won’t give you too hard a time about it,” he says magnanimously.
You snuggle into his embrace. “How lucky am I to have manifested my crushes into reality?”
“The lucky ones are us,” Charles murmurs, stroking your hair and kissing you tenderly.
Lewis tips your chin up to meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You cling to each other, the outside world fading away.
Eventually you lead them hand-in-hand to your massive bedroom balcony overlooking the mountains. The summer air is fragrant with the smell of wildflowers.
Settled together on the cushions, you snuggle between Lewis and Charles as they take in the stunning panoramic views.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” Lewis sighs contentedly. “Thank you for bringing us with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for wanting to know every part of me.”
Charles wraps an arm around you, meeting your eyes sincerely. “Of course we do. Your soul is what we fell in love with first and foremost.”
You have to blink back tears at his words. Being with them has taught you that real love runs far deeper than surface trappings.
Overwhelmed with emotion, you pull them close, kissing each with all the love and gratitude overflowing inside you.
As the sun dips behind the mountains, setting the sky ablaze in stunning hues of orange and purple, you curl up safely between the two men who see, know, and love the real you. The only home you’ll ever need.
***
The warmly lit dining room of your family estate is filled with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation as you share an intimate dinner with your father, stepmother Susie, younger brother Jack, and your loves.
Despite your anxiety, the evening has gone smoothly so far. Toto seems impressed with Lewis and Charles’ maturity and devotion to you. Susie dotes on them like a surrogate mother. Only Jack seems bored, pushing food around his plate.
During a lull in the conversation, Toto turns to Lewis. “It’s remarkable what you are accomplishing at Ferrari this season. Good to see you on top of the podium again.”
Lewis smiles. “Thank you, Toto. It’s been incredible.”
“Still, I was surprised when you first told me you were leaving Mercedes,” Toto remarks. “I didn’t fully understand what prompted such a sudden departure.”
He levels Lewis with a probing gaze. You freeze nervously, grasping Charles and Lewis’ hands under the table. You’ve managed to avoid telling your father the real reason for Lewis’ change in teams. But it seems that reckoning has arrived.
Lewis meets Toto’s scrutinizing look evenly. “Well, as you know, Mercedes has strict rules against relationships within the team. It began impeding my personal happiness. So I sought more freedom elsewhere.”
Toto’s eyes narrow, glancing between the three of you. “And when exactly did this personal happiness begin?”
You hold your breath. Lewis says simply, “During my third to last season with the team.”
There’s a long, fraught silence. Jack glances around confused while Susie presses her napkin to her lips, no doubt hiding a small smile. She’s always been your most enthusiastic supporter.
Toto’s face slowly turns an alarming shade of eggplant purple. He points an accusatory finger at Lewis. “You! You were already involved with my daughter during your Mercedes contract?”
Lewis nods calmly. “We couldn’t be public about it then. Your rules left us no choice but secrecy.”
Toto turns his glare on you. “So while I was managing Lewis’ negotiations, you were ... were ...” He seems unable to form the words.
You lift your chin. “Yes, Vati. We’ve been together since mid-2022. I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest about it at the time.”
Toto looks back and forth between you and Lewis, jaw clenched. The whole table is frozen, awaiting the eruption.
Finally Toto thrusts his chair back and begins pacing angrily. “This whole time ... right under my nose! With my star driver, in clear violation of team rules and ethics!”
He rounds on Lewis. “I treated you like family! Supported your career, fought for your contracts. And you betrayed me by sneaking around with my daughter behind my back!”
Lewis faces Toto’s tirade calmly. “I apologize for any perceived deception. But we couldn’t deny our hearts.”
He takes your hand, gazing at you adoringly. Charles clutches your other in solidarity.
Toto drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. I thought I knew you, Hamilton.”
Finally you can't stay quiet any longer. “Vati, stop,” you implore. “I know you’re upset, but don’t blame Lewis. We fell in love, simple as that.”
Toto sighs, looking between your determined face and Lewis’ sincerity. His anger slowly deflates.
“Bärchen, you will always be my little girl,” he says gruffly. “I just want to protect you.”
He turns back to Lewis and Charles. “But I can see you both genuinely care for her. That’s all that matters in the end.”
You smile hopefully. “So you’re okay with this?”
Toto holds up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. I am still adjusting to the idea.” He narrows his eyes at Lewis and Charles. “No messing about, you hear me? My girl deserves the utmost love and respect.”
“Of course,” Lewis says seriously as Charles nods in agreement.
“Good. See that it stays that way.” Toto sits back down with a huff. An awkward beat passes before conversation resumes again.
Later, as you all say goodnight, Toto pulls you into a hug. “They really make you happy, hmm?”
You nod, eyes shining. “Beyond words.”
Toto pats your cheek affectionately. “Well then, I suppose that’s what matters.”
You kiss his cheek in gratitude. No matter how overprotective your father can be, you know he just wants you safe and loved. With Lewis and Charles by your side, you always will be.
***
Seven Years Later
The Ferrari garage is buzzing with activity as race day gets underway at the Italian Grand Prix. You stand with Lewis among the controlled chaos, keeping one eye on your enthusiastic children weaving through the mechanics’ legs.
“Be careful, Lou!” You call out as your daring five-year-old Louis takes a corner a little too sharply, his Ferrari cap nearly sliding off his wild wavy hair.
Lewis shakes his head in amusement. “He’s as spirited as his Papa.”
You grin proudly at your son, the spitting image of Charles, as he zooms around mimicking pit stops. Your little three-year-old Helene clings shyly to her daddy’s leg, peering up at the action with wide brown eyes that are the mirror image of Lewis’ own.
Charles emerges from the engineering briefing and makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you into his arms, he greets you with a passionate kiss. After over seven years together, the sparks between you still ignite instantly.
Pulling back, Charles grins at your slightly disheveled state. “Hello to you too,” you laugh breathlessly.
He winks before turning to give Lewis a tender kiss. Your unconventional family drew some skepticism at first, but your extraordinary love has proven unshakeable.
The kids chorus “Papa!” and attack Charles’ legs. Laughing, he scoops them both up, kissing their heads. “Are you ready to cheer for me, my little racers?”
Their enthusiastic cheers draw amused glances from the team. You soak it all in — your little family, together forever.
Charles reluctantly sets the kids down to focus on pre-race prep. You feel a phantom flutter in your belly, though you know it’s still too early for it to be real. Grasping Lewis’ hand, you share a private smile. Baby number three is on the way.
The race begins in a blur of excitement. Charles aces the start, quickly pulling into the lead. Louis abandons all decorum and just starts screaming “Go Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you and Lewis take turns occupying your hyperactive son so as not to distract the crew. Shy little Helene contents herself hugging a Ferrari-themed teddy bear, peering intently at the screens showing her Papa as he speeds around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.
The laps tick by, Charles fending off the competition masterfully. As he crosses the finish line to claim victory on home soil, Louis and Helene are jumping and cheering loudly. The passion for racing already runs strong.
Back out in the paddock after the podium celebration, you and Lewis balance the kids on your hips as reporters head straight for the two of you. The questions are familiar after years in the spotlight.
“Lewis, what’s it like spending almost every weekend at the track despite your retirement five years ago?”
“I love it,” Lewis smiles, bouncing a giggling Helene. “Getting to support my husband and spend time with my family, it’s very fulfilling.”
“And Y/N, how do you manage the kids and your husband’s demanding career?”
You grin. “We make it work. We’re so proud of Charles and feel lucky to be by his side through it all.”
On cue, Helene pipes up “Papa is the best racer!”
The reporters chuckle. One asks, “How do you feel seeing Charles continue to build his legacy with Ferrari?”
“I couldn’t be prouder,” Lewis says, genuine emotion in his eyes. “He’s taken the team to new heights and really made his mark. Seeing him succeed means the world.”
Louis suddenly grabs the mic, yelling “Are we done yet?” You have to stifle your laugh.
“I think that’s our cue to wrap up,” you grin sheepishly, gathering the rambunctious children in your arms. Blowing kisses to the laughing media, you make your exit.
Back in the privacy of the motorhome, your unconventional but beautiful family shares celebratory hugs and kisses. Charles rests his hand gently on your belly, his face lighting up when you confirm the news.
“Baby number three on the way!” Lewis crows, sweeping you into an excited embrace.
Louis and Helene cheer, demanding another sibling immediately. You laugh giddily, leaning into Charles and gazing at the pure joy on your husbands’ faces. Your hearts swell with love.
This life you’ve built together has faced skepticism, but your extraordinary bond conquers all. Gazing into their eyes, you know without a doubt you were destined for each other. Hand in hand, side by side, forevermore.
***
18 Months Later
You finish strapping a squirming Cosette into her car seat, smoothing down her hair that is the spitting image of your own. “There we go, my little princess. Time to go see Opa Toto!”
Cosette babbles happily, waving her chubby fists. At just over a year old, she is the perfect blend of you and Charles, with your lips and nose and his vibrant green eyes.
Louis and Helene are already buckled into the backseat, their patience for the short drive to your father’s house wearing thin. “Hurry up!” Louis cries. “I want to show Opa my new race car!”
“We’re coming, hold your horses,” you laugh, sliding into the passenger seat beside Charles. Lewis is meeting you there after stopping at home to grab a few extra toys and changes of clothes for the kids’ overnight stay.
During the short drive, Charles keeps resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing distracting circles. You try your best to keep your breathing even. After all these years together, just the slightest touch from your husbands can still ignite that spark instantly.
You pull up the long driveway to find Lewis’ car already parked outside the stately lakefront home you grew up spending summers in. Before you can even unbuckle, the front door swings open and Toto comes striding out, arms open wide.
“My lieblinge!” He booms as Louis and Helene barrel into his embrace.
You lift Cosette from her carseat and Toto takes her gently, eyes crinkling with delight. “And there’s my littlest liebling,” he coos, nuzzling her soft curls.
Lewis joins you all outside, greeting Toto with a warm hug. “Thanks again for watching the kids tonight, Toto. We really appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course! They’re my grandbabies, it’s my honor,” Toto declares, ushering everyone inside.
Soon the kids are happily playing on the living room floor as you and Susie chat over tea. Lewis joins Toto out on the back patio, no doubt talking about the current state of the team as always. Charles wanders in from the kitchen and comes up behind you, massaging the knots from your shoulders in that way he knows you love. You have to bite back a moan, not wanting to scar your family. Susie just smiles knowingly into her tea cup.
Too soon it’s time to head out for your rare adults-only evening. You pry Louis away from showing Toto his toy car collection and scoop up a sleepy Cosette. Helene hugs you tightly around the legs.
“We’ll be back to get you tomorrow, sweetheart,” you assure her, kissing the top of her head.
Lewis takes his turn hugging the kids while Charles checks his watch. “Reservations are in 30 minutes, we should get going soon.”
You pass a sleepy Cosette to Toto and he cradles her gently. “We’ll hold down the fort, you three go and have an enjoyable evening.” He gives Lewis and Charles a stern look. “But not too enjoyable, hmm? Keep it respectable.”
Lewis just grins as Charles steps up and claps Toto on the back. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be very respectable. Just having a nice dinner while we discuss when to start working on baby number four.” He winks cheekily at Toto while you and Lewis have to stifle your laughter at the mortified look on your father’s face.
Charles dodges Toto’s half-hearted swat and pulls you and Lewis in close. “Come on, our romantic evening awaits.”
You bid one more goodnight to the kids before letting Charles usher you out the door, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The drive to the restaurant passes enjoyably, laughter and teasing flowing freely. For one night, you have the rare opportunity to just be yourselves, simply three lovers.
At the upscale restaurant, you’re shown to a cozy corner table lit by flickering candles. Charles orders an expensive bottle of wine while you and Lewis peruse the menu. His foot trails slowly up your leg under the tablecloth and you have to resist the urge to jump him then and there. After years together the flames still burn hot, stealing passionate moments whenever you can.
Dinner passes enjoyably, full of laughter and flirty touches. Afterwards you stroll hand-in-hand along the lakefront, the starry sky reflected on the rippling water. Lewis pulls you into a dance right there on the path, the three of you swaying and giggling drunkenly together. Passersby stare but you’re oblivious, caught up in your own private world.
Eventually you make your tipsy way back home, shedding clothes on your way up to the master bedroom. They lay you down reverently in the middle of the expansive bed, hands and mouths immediately reacquainting themselves with every familiar curve and hollow of your body. Soon you’re panting and writhing between them, their dual caresses pushing you rapidly towards euphoria.
“Need you ... both ... now,” you manage to gasp out. Without hesitation Charles is kissing you hungrily while Lewis repositions himself behind you. You cry out as they join your bodies seamlessly, swiftly bringing you to the peak again and again. Their stamina and synchronicity even after all these years together never fails to leave you awestruck.
Much later, sated and pleasantly sore, you rest comfortably sandwiched between your husbands. Their hands caress you languidly as you all come down from your highs together.
“We certainly made the most of our kid-free night,” Lewis chuckles, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.
You hum contentedly. “It was heavenly. But I can’t wait to get our babies back tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Charles agrees, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Our family is everything to me.”
You smile softly at him, heart swelling. “Our lives turned out pretty perfectly, didn’t they?”
Lewis nods, his eyes drifting around the bedroom that over the years has become a shrine to your shared journey — photos of race wins, kids’ drawings, and candid shots of your unlikely love filling every surface.
“Beyond anything I could have dreamed,” he murmurs. “Being with you both, raising our babies together ... it’s more than I ever imagined was possible.”
Charles kisses you tenderly. “We’re so lucky to have this extraordinary love.”
You cling tighter to them, emotion welling in your chest. “Every day I’m grateful we followed our hearts and created this life together.”
They hum contentedly, holding you close between their warm, solid bodies. No more words need be said. After so many years, your souls are intertwined seamlessly by the incredible bonds of your love.
Come what may, you know without a doubt that you were destined for each other. And you would choose this unconventional but beautiful life with them every single time.
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xoxomireya · 3 months
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ㆍ⇋﹒how to fix your phone and social media addiction: a tutorial ;ᨴ﹑📲ˎˊ˗
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DO NOT delete social media !!
If your phone is taking over your life, who’s the real culprit? Exactly. Social media is not bad per se, the problem comes in when the content that you surround yourself with is toxic and unhealthy. Use your phone and social media for motivation, productivity, inspiration… Mindlessly scrolling is the real problem, not social media.
Don’t you have something better to do?
Being on our phones and constantly scrolling mindlessly through social media gives us dopamine and makes us addicted to it. But the thing is, phones aren’t the only thing that can give you dopamine. Explore and experiment life to see what can give you dopamine. For example, I love reading and when I’m doing it I never think of going on my phone because doing something that I love already gives me the dopamine that I seek.
Discipline is key.
This is kind of obvious since discipline is the solution to most of these issues but you actually need to learn how to have discipline. Change your mindset to one that understands that getting used to comfort will only bring weakness in the long run whilst getting out of your comfort zone will build strength. Start by choosing to do something that will be better for you in the long run even if it’s hard than settling for brief happiness just because it’s easier.
Start by not going on your phone first thing in the morning.
Going on your phone first thing in the morning will pretty much guarantee that you’ll be glued to it the rest of the day because the first dopamine hit that you get in the day is what you will continue to look for throughout the day. Get an alarm clock or just leave your phone in another room (e.g. your bathroom) throughout the night so when the alarm goes off in the morning you’ll be forced to get out of bed and not crawl back in it with your phone.
Change your phone from color to black and white.
Accesibility > display & text size. If the only colors you see on your phone are black and white it’s just not going to hit the same, you’re not going the get the same dopamine hit and you’re not going to want to mindlessly scroll because it’s not giving your brain that reward and that satisfaction that you would usually get, which is what unconsciously keeps us coming back.
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azuremist · 2 years
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A message to Twitter users coming to tumblr: a message from your local duel-hellsite citizen
So, I’ve seen a ton of Twitter users talking about making and sharing their new tumblr blogs, to escape Elon Musk’s “anti censorship” bullshittery. First of all: welcome! I know it’s looking bleak over there; especially for trans people. But, now that you’re here, I’m here to tell you all about tumblr etiquette, how this website works, and how it’s different from Twitter. Because you can’t come onto here acting like it’s Twitter, lest The Beast get to you.
First, here are a small handful of tips and tumblr facts!
Your likes and who you are following are automatically set to public. You can make them private in your settings!
You can block tags from the settings, too.
There are lots of bots on here. If you’re not careful, you could be mistaken for one! The main way you can avoid this is changing your icon and header from the defaults. Adding a bio helps too!
You can queue and schedule posts so that your account posts throughout the day.
Like Twitter, tumblr has a radical feminist and TERF problem. However, they’re pretty easy to spot. There are lots of guides out there to help you learn how to spot tumblr TERFs!
Tumblr, for the most part, does not have any celebrity or brand accounts.
Your tumblr follower count is private.
You can have multiple accounts with the same email, and they’re very easy to switch between! These are called “sideblogs”.
Your main page is not a “timeline”. It is a “dashboard”!
You can have a custom desktop theme using HTML! Think like ye olde MySpace days. There are tons of pre-made tumblr themes available, if you’re not already proficient in HTML; including free ones!
Now, let’s talk tumblr etiquette and how it’s different from Twitter. You’re a tumblr user now! It’s time to start acting like it!
Don’t just like posts. They don’t increase visibility whatsoever. The way that you can help posts that you like is reblogging them to your blog. Especially for art!
We don’t say “oomfs” or “oomfies”. Just “mutuals” is fine, thanks!
Adding onto a post with pointless comments is frowned upon. If all you have to say is “this is so true,” or something else to that effect, you should put that in the tags of your reblog.
Most people don’t have carrds or rentries on here. Some of us do, but it’s not an obligation like it is for Twitter.
Similarly, we don’t censor words like “die” and “death”. Posts about wanting to brutally murder people in power go viral all the time, and it’s completely allowed. I’m serious! Enjoy your newfound freedom!
Blocking isn’t a big deal here. Get rid of any weird notion you have that morality is linked to blocking certain people.
But lastly, and most importantly:
Drop your discourse at the door.
If you try to post about most of the things that Twitter users discourse about, you will be laughed off the site. Especially Twitter LGBT+ discourse. Posts actively mocking topics of Twitter discourse go viral on here regularly.
Tumblr has mostly healed since its discourse-ridden days, and it’s now much more chill. Of course, discourse still happens, but it is so easy to avoid now. For a lot of us, tumblr is the last pleasant social media site left, so don’t ruin it.
Here is a list of discourse-related things that tumblr users don’t do:
Most of us don’t do callout posts, unless it’s something actually serious (like that one blog that had a human slave).
Everything that you heard on Twitter was “exclusive” to certain LGBT+ groups is used by just about everyone on here. Bi women use the double venus symbol on here. You’ll just have to learn to live with that.
In particular, I want to emphasize how much we don’t do flag discourse. To the point that somebody caring about flag discourse of any kind is how we tend to identify an ex-Twitter user.
On here, you will never have to see another slur discourse post again, unless you actively seek it out.
You’re free.
You’re welcome. And enjoy your time on here! If you have the time, please consider watching StrangeÆons’ Tumblr Etiquette Manual on YouTube, as well.
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