#i have some weird feelings about this track. at the same time i like it and don't like it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jessicaloons · 2 days

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Chapter 41:

I like shiny things, but I’d marry with Paper Rings…

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TW: spicy, adult content, 18+

Info: to fit my story line I swapped Austin with Mexico, the triple header will then be Mexico, Austin, Brazil

I stirred in the bed, the sunbeams sneaking through a gap between the curtains woke me up and I yawned.

"What time is it?" Charles whispered next to me and I turned a little, checking the time on my phone.

"Too early to be awake…" I mumbled, turning back, snuggling into him.

"Yeah? Then let’s sleep for a little longer." he kissed my forehead as I laid my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Sounds like a plan." I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Why is your heart racing like that?" Charles asked after a while and I opened my eyes "Are you okay?" he turned his head, looking at me.

"I think so…"

"You think so?"

"It’s nothing, let’s just sleep…" I closed my eyes again, but he put two fingers under my chin, tilting my head up.

"What’s wrong?" he asked gently and I sighed.

"Last year here in Mexico…" I said quietly.

"That’s on your mind?"

"A little? I mean when we did the track walk and we walked past the spot where it happened… I don’t know, it’s just felt weird and I thought back to when I was in the garage and- and I thought you were dead…" my voice broke and Charles pulled me closer into him.

"But I was okay. I am okay. It’s just a bad memory, nothing else! Don’t think about it anymore, it’s not good for you, especially not when you have to focus on the race ahead!" he kissed the crown of my head and I slowly nodded.

"Can you just promise me that you take care out there today?" I whispered after a while and heard him sigh a little.

"I can promise you that I will try. You know that’s all I can do…"

"I know. But please try to."

"I promise that I will."

Unfortunately keeping his promise was harder than it sounded like, when I watched the RedBull and Ferrari sandwich in front of me, sending Checo off track and Charles losing the lead to Max. I took a deep breath and focused on my own race which I ended in the same position as I started in.

"That’s P4. Good job." Pete radioed and I sighed a little.

"Yeah, it was the best I could do I guess. Good job on the team’s side, our pit stops are getting better with every race!"

"Team effort."

Austin next started out strong. A good quali and sprint race were making me feel optimistic for Sunday, the race didn’t bring the same result tho, with a P7 but it was the best we could do. I finished my interviews when I saw Charles looking frustrated, shaking his head.

"What’s going on?" I asked and he sighed.

"The FIA checked the planks on some of the cars… Lewis and mine apparently didn’t comply the technical regulations, so there’s a hearing."

"Are they for real? That was probably because we had two races at one weekend! Of course there’s some high wear on the skin pads! This track is fucking bumpy and with the stupid sprint race there’s not enough time to check it properly?" I said loudly and some people looked.

"Lizzie…" Julie warned and I sighed.

"Let’s go…" I grabbed his hand and lead him away, back to his hospitality "I would wait with you, but I’m not allowed in there…"

"Let’s go to Audi, I don’t want to wait alone…" Charles shrugged and I nodded.

"Okay." we walked back and waited, but I had a bad feeling and when Mia said that the final decision was made, I already knew by the look on her face what it meant.

"I was disqualified, right?" Charles voice was trembling.

"Yeah… you and Lewis…"

"Lewis as well? That means…"

"Carlos will move up into P3…" Mia said and Charles laughed.

"Of course… but hey, Lizzie, congrats to your P5 now." he patted my arm.

"Charles…" I began but he got up.

"No, it’s fine. It’s like this. Whatever. We can’t change it now anyways. I go to my race debrief, what’s there to debrief anyways but yeah… you go to yours. I see you later." he kissed me briefly and walked off.

"Can you please make sure that he’s okay?" I asked Mia and she nodded.

"Of course…" she walked off and Julie sighed.

"What a day…"

"What a day indeed."

"I don’t know if that’s a good idea…" Charles mumbled and I rolled my eyes a little.

"Oh come on! After that race? You deserve a little fun!" I said.

"Yeah but… I have to make some points in Brazil! I can’t mess this up!" he sighed.

"You won’t mess it up! It’s all going to be fine! We’ll be in Brazil right in time for the media day. It will be fun, you’ll see!" I smiled and after a while he sighed.

"Danny Ric and his ideas."

"It will be fun. Come on now, costumes!" I smiled excitedly but I didn’t like the look on his face "Why are you looking at me like that?" he just chuckled and I punched his arm "I swear, if you picked a slutty nurse or house maid costume… I’ll cut off your ba…" I began but got interrupted by his hysterical laugh.

"Oh cara mia, although I would love to see you as a slutty nurse or house maid, I wouldn’t want 500 other people to see that, too, there are parts of your body only I get to see… no, I picked something better!" he said and his little possessiveness made me blush.

"Alright. Then I’d say let’s exchange the costumes and get going?" I said, trying to contain my grin.

"Oh, what have you done?" Charles asked, voice laced with a tint of worry.

"You’ll see…" I chuckled and grabbed the garment bag "I’ll go to the bedroom."

As I zipped the bag open I sighed and took the costume out, now I preferred a slutty nurse or house maid costume. I googled for make-up and hair ideas when I heard steps coming my way and the door flying open.

"Absolutely not! No! I’m not wearing that!" Charles cursed and I looked him up, from head to toe.

"Holy shit, you look hot… umm… I’m… umm…" I was at a loss for words, he looked amazing. Hot. Sexy. Dangerous. Wearing all black.

"I’m not wearing a Mercedes race suit as a costume! Ferrari will kill me!" he groaned.

"Then I’m not wearing this…" I said and pointed at the costume on the bed.

"Fine. If I lose my job, it’s your fault!" he sighed and I chuckled.

"Oh come on, if anything it will only make them draft your new contract faster!" I said, still ogling him up and down. My insides began to stir and I was feeling hot, flushed "Go now, please. I have to get ready." my voice was raspy.

"Maybe I should talk to the design team and ask for an all black suit next season?" Charles chuckled and I shook my head.

"Go. Now. Thank you." I pushed him through the door and sighed "Slutty cheerleader here I go…"

Charles POV:

I watched how Lizzie danced with Kika, having fun, laughed.

"It’s been a while since I saw her this carefree?" Pierre nodded towards our girls and I smiled.

"Yeah… this whole thing with Diaz, then with Sainz, Singapore and the m…" I stopped abruptly and Pierre cocked an eyebrow.

"What happened in Singapore?"

"I mean, she could’ve won that race, silence the media who were slandering her again and again…" I lied and he nodded.

"Yeah, that’s true, it was a shame, honestly."

"It was. But look at her, she’s happy. That’s what’s most important."

The two girls pulled us on the dance floor and Lizzie threw her arms around my neck.

"Are you having fun, Charlie?" she asked swaying and I smiled.

"A whole lot… my beautiful cheerleader is here dancing with me after all." I replied and kissed her.

"Mhh me too. It was a good idea that we came here… alright your costume…" she mumbled against my lips and I tilted my head a little.

"What’s with my costume?"

"I don’t like how all the girls are staring at you because you look so devilishly handsome in this black race suit." she pouted and I had to laugh "That’s not funny!"

"Cara mia, you chose the costume!" I said matter of factly.

"I know… but still…" she groaned a little and I pulled her closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, down her jaw, feeling her squirming in my hold.

"Don’t worry, pretty girl. They might see me in the suit… but you’re the only girl seeing me out of it…" I whispered in her ear and I felt her shuddering.

"Let’s get a taxi…" she rasped out and I grinned at her like a devil "Now."

She clung to me, her arms around my neck, hands carding through my hair, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along the column of my neck, my jaw, my throat. My hands gripping her waist, pulling her close into me, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt, hiking it up her thighs. As soon as the elevator door opened I pushed her out, walking us fast toward our door, prying my hands from her waist, lifting my head up to see the security panel of the door. Lizzie looked up at the loss of my arms around her and the sudden movement of my head.

"Pretty girl, I have to open the door… stop pouting…" I groaned as she began suckling at the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Hurry up…" she whined, pulling my head down, clashing her hot, wet lips onto mine, making me taste the sweetness of the cocktails she drank earlier. The door opened with a simmer and I tapped her thighs, making her jump a little, wrapping her legs around my waist on instinct. I walked inside, kicking the door shut with my foot. Holding her up at her thighs, massaging them, distracted by her kisses and licks around my neck I stumbled into the bedroom, where I dropped her on the bed. She tilted her head up, eying me from head to toe, hungry look in her eyes.

"You look so devilishly hot in that suit… mhhh why don’t you screw Ferrari and go for Lewis seat instead?" she said breathless and I slapped her thigh "Was that supposed to be a punishment? Try again…"

I chuckled and leaned down, holding myself steady above her, ghosting my lips over hers before I kissed the corner of her mouth, then kissed a line to her ear, breathing out, hot and heavy against it, making her moan a little.

"I think you would much rather enjoy a reward…" I whispered, gently biting down at her earlobe.

"How do I earn it?" she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"I’m a Mercedes driver… I want to be cheered on by my personal cheerleader…" I grinned at her and she put one hand in my neck, pulling my head close.

"I can do that…" she breathed against my lips and nibbled at my lower lip before she pushed me off of her and got up, she then turned around and I sat up. She unclipped the Pom Pom’s from her waist and began to do a cheer routine.

"I love seeing you wearing my logo… it’s like I marked you… for everyone to see…" I muttered and she smiled seductively "But right now I wouldn’t mind seeing you out of it…" Lizzie understood the hint immediately. Throwing the Pom Pom’s my way. Sliding her hands up and down her sites, before she hooked her thumbs under the hem of the top, pulling it slowly over her head, revealing a dark red lace bra, making me choke up. I loved seeing her in red. And she knew it. She gently cupped her breasts before turning around, bending down, shaking her behind a little to reveal the sight of the matching slip underneath her short skirt. I felt how the suit got tight around my crotch, too tight, and threw my head back, closing my eyes. My breathing hitched when soft fabric hit my face and I opened my eyes, looking down at Lizzie’s bra in my lap. The second I looked up I lost all restraint and jumped up. Backing her up against the wall, making her whimper as the rough fabric of my race suit dragged along her bare skin, when I pressed my knee between her thighs, pushing up her skirt. I kissed her, rough and deep, almost frantic as the sweetness of her lips and tongue engulfed my senses. Sensations of heat, lust and love rushing through my body. I felt my growing bulge against her thigh, making her moan and me taking a deep breath. Lizzie’s hands began to fiddle with the zipper of the suit and she whined desperately as it wouldn’t budge.

"Don’t be so impatient, pretty girl!" I grinned and helped her, pulling the zipper down, letting her strip me off of it, the suit pooling around my waist, before pulling my shirt over my head. She pressed her firm breasts into my chest and I could feel her pebbled nipples against my skin as we moaned in unison. I pushed her skirt further up her thighs, exposing the dark red, lazy slip, cupping her heat with my hand, rubbing once. She bit her lips, suppressing a moan and I felt her knees buckling so I grabbed her thighs, hiking them around my waist, pushing her further into the wall. She let out a surprised huff and locked her eyes with mine, before she captured my lips in a searing kiss, it was sloppy, messy but above all desperate. It was suffocating and hot in the best way possible, but my growing bulge pressed against her hot core made me pull away, trying to catch my breath. Lizzie made a little sound of protest, before gripping my neck again, trying to pull my lips back to hers.

"Charles…" she whined and I pushed us off the wall, carrying her to our bed, falling back down on it, Lizzie above me. She blinked and sat up, straddling my hips, and I felt my heart palpitating, lungs clenching, as I saw her naked frame, looking like a true goddess. I put my hands on her waist, rubbing circles on it and with one swift move I turned us over, hovering now over her. Her hands shot up, tangling in my hair and pulling me closer. I only gave her a soft kiss on her lips before I started my way down, kissing her throat, collarbone, leaving tiny marks. My hands pushing her skirt down her legs as I kissed down the valley between her breasts, locking eyes with her, hungry and full of lust. I kissed my way further down, nibbled at her stomach making her clench it in the process. As I arrived at her core I kissed it above the fabric, making Lizzie bucking her hips, I gently laid one hand on her stomach and pushed her back into the mattress, waiting a moment for her to calm down, then I hooked my thumbs under the band of her slip and pulled it down with one smooth move, throwing it together with her skirt behind my back. A soft thud telling me both clothings landed on the floor.

"Ready for your reward?" I whispered and looked up at Lizzie, who nodded slightly, and I grinned, devouring her. Caressing her soft skin, making her moan, gripping my hair, pulling me closer to where she needed me the most.

"Don’t stop…" she whimpered as I stole the air from her very lungs, making her puff out a long breath "Close… so close…" she mumbled underneath her breath. After a short while, she arched her back, grinding her core into my face, whining and moaning in ecstasy, as she reached her climax. I let go of her, looking up at her gorgeous face, eyes closed, blissful smile on her lips, chest heaving with every breath she took, beads of sweat glistening all over her beautiful body. Her hands let go of my hair, searching around until they found mine, still holding her waist down. She intertwined our fingers, gently pulling me up and I obeyed, leaning down over her face, looking at the pretty girl underneath me, my pretty girl. She slowly opened her eyes, still out of breath.

"Hi…" she whispered, all of a sudden shy again, cheeks slightly blushing, as she looked at my face, bottom half glistening with her essence and she closed her eyes again, groaning quietly.

"Hi pretty girl…" I answered, gently nudging her nose with mine. She bit her lip and looked up at me with hooded eyes, then she leaned up, pressing her lips on mine, tasting herself on them. I had to grin into the kiss and she slowly pulled back, licking her lips. She pulled our intertwined hands to her lips, kissing my knuckles gently. Smiling her most gorgeous smile, falling back even more into her shy demeanour, she still wore at times. As I adjusted my position above her, my straining crotch, still covered in the race suit, brushed against her heat, and her breathing hitched. She looked down and gulped audibly.

"Take it off…" she said in a hushed tone, her fiery gaze burning a hole in my middle, before she put her hands on my hips, pushing the suit down herself. I helped her, sliding it off, letting it fall onto the floor. Her eyes found mine and she cupped my cheek with her hand, gently caressing it "I love you…" she purred softly and I laid a feathery kiss on her lips, getting more heated with every moment that passed and in that I could feel her soft core beneath my skin. She grabbed my hips, pulling me flush against her, an impatient whine on her lips as she greedily captured my bottom lip between her teeth. I felt my heart racing, my body buzzing all over with anticipation and locked eyes with her, gently freeing my lips from hers. Littering her face and jaw with tiny kisses, as I sucked on her collarbone she arched her back into me and with one last look in her eyes I let my arousal take over, making her moan loudly as our body’s melted into one.

"I love you too…" I muttered out, moaning as her heat clenched around me.

"We could’ve chartered a whole plane for all of us…" Pierre chuckled as I watched almost half the grid settling into their seats, occupying the entire first class.

"True that!" Daniel laughed, plopping down in his seat.

"Just so you guys know I want silence the next 10 hours. Utter and complete silence." Lando groaned and put a sleeping mask and his headphones on.

"And it’s all too much for little Lando Norris." Daniel imitated Crofty and we all laughed.

"I said silence." Lando murred and I cuddled back into my seat.

"Comfy?" Charles asked after a while and I shook my head, taking his hand and cuddling it to my chest.

"Better." I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle.

"Silly girl. Sleep now, we have a hectic day ahead of us." he said, kissing the crown of my head.

"Hectic weekend. And did you see the weather forecast? Damn…" I whispered.

"Yeah I saw it…" Charles said and I felt him tensing up a little.

"Hey, it will be alright, don’t worry, we’ll have a good weekend, you’ll see." I kissed the back of his hand and he smiled a little.

"I hope you’re right." he said and I sat up.

"Forget about Austin. It’s in the past. You’ll do amazing! So come on. Have a little nap with me." I smiled and Charles sighed. I could literally see the wheels turning in his head with how hard he was thinking about the weekend ahead.

"It’s just… I need to proof that I’m better. John Elkann will be in Brazil… he wasn’t supposed to be there, he planned to come to Vegas. But now he’s already in Brazil? What if it is to tell me that they’re not happy with my performance? That they won’t extend my contract?" he whispered and I sat up.

"Stop it now, okay! Why would they do that? They’re not stupid! Austin wasn’t your fault! Stop this nonsense now! He’s coming to Brazil because he wants to, there’s no reason behind it. Period." I looked at him determined and after a while he smiled a little.

Maybe you’re right." he leaned back, taking my hand in his again "What would I do without you?"

"I answered that question before, so you know the answer." I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder.

"I might sink and drown and die."

"Exactly."

"Was that Fred that I saw earlier?" I asked Charles when we walked to the car, late at Saturday night.

"Yeah… he’s here…" he opened my door and I looked at him "He said he wanted to talk to me after the weekend…"

"About what?" I waited for him to get in the car as well.

"He didn’t say about what. Just that we need to talk." Charles looked worried. I saw how he clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white.

"It’s going to be okay, you’ll see." I pried his hands away from the steering wheel and made him look at me "Fred loves you. Whatever is going to happen, it’s okay!"

"I hope so." he mumbled and started the car.

We drove in silence but I felt Charles’ anxiety radiating off of him, the tension in his shoulders visible. And although I tried my best to soothe his worries, to calm him down, he was as nervous as ever when he got into the car on Sunday. I watched horrified how he flew off in the formation lap and my stomach was in tight knots the whole race. As soon as I was out of the car, I was looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"You text me as soon as you see him, okay?" I said to Andrea and he nodded, walking back into the Ferrari garage.

"Lizzie, we really have to go now… come on." Julie urged and I followed her to the media pen, where I gave my interviews in the fastest way possible and Julie chuckled when I looked at her after the hopefully last one "Okay, okay, we’re done! You can go and look now for Charles!"

"Thank you!" I almost sprinted away, looking for Joris and Andrea.

"He’s here." the latter said when I stopped in front of the Ferrari hospitality.

"Is he okay? He didn’t answer my texts…" I was slightly out of breath from running.

"He’s umm-… he’s in a meeting with Fred… and I think I saw John Elkann with them as well…" Andrea said slowly and my heart began to race.

"Okay- I mean… I guess I wait then?"

"That’s all we can do now." Andrea smiled at me when I saw Silvia coming our way.

"But you know what? I can wait at Audi as well…" I walked off before the evil witch of the easy reached us, making my way to wait for Charles.

The debrief felt like a whole eternity and when I finally left I saw a text from Charles, saying that I should wait at the car for him. I had a bad feeling and said good night to everyone, walking to the parking lot. My heart was hammering in my chest when two arms engulfed me from behind, but just a second later I relaxed, feeling it was Charles.

"Hey cara mia." he kissed the side of my head, spinning me around.

"You’re smiling?" I asked cautiously and he nodded.

"I’m smiling." he smiled, kissing me.

"What does that mean? Is everything okay?" I asked and he pushed me against the car, kissing me again "Charles!"

"More than okay. Brilliant actually… but I can’t tell you for now. It has to be secret until it’s officially announced…" he smiled brightly, opening the door for me, pushing me inside.

"And what? You think I will spill the beans?" I pouted, right when he closed the door and walked around the car to get in "Am I not trustworthy en-…" he silenced me with another kiss.

"Fred will become team principal next season. My new contract is already drafted…" he began and I squealed.

"Mattia is gone?" I asked and Charles nodded.

"Mattia is gone… well next season…" he said and I did a little happy dance.

"Does that mean that Sainz will be gone as well?" I asked big Charles shook his head.

"They didn’t mention him. And I honestly don’t care. Since Fred joined it was planned for him to take over. That’s why he was so highly involved in the making of next seasons car. It’s his car. And he said it’s the car to win the championship with… or at least he hopes so." his most beautiful, dimple showing smile was back.

"Charles Leclerc, world champion 2024. I called it first." I said happily and he shrugged his shoulders.

"We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves now, cara mia." he chuckled, starting the engine.

"Maybe you don’t… but I will! Mark my words, world champion of 2024, Charles Leclerc, my gorgeous boyfriend." I smiled "Now I’m even more happy for our trip to LA."

"Yeah, me too, it will be great."

Charles POV:

"What are you doing?" I plopped down next to Lizzie on the sun island and she showed me her iPad.

"These are the three options for the kitchen… I love them all, but the third one is my favourite. I always wanted to have an all white kitchen with black hardware but the kitchen island in all black? Waterfall edges of this beautiful white granite with black veins? The same we use for the countertops? Damn Carla really had an amazing idea here."

"That was Carla’s idea?" I asked and she nodded "I have to so, they all look stunning, but yeah, the black island really stands out? What tiles? The other options had tiles."

"I was honestly thinking to use the same granite as backsplash? Like a big fat slab of stone… here…" she tapped on the display and the model changed.

"Yes. 100 % yes. It looks amazing! Wow. Send it to Léon That’s our kitchen." I saw how happy and giddy she was about this decision and kissed her cheek "What else? Tell me you have more!"

"So, we already decided for the guest bathrooms and both powder rooms… but do you want to see my vision for our bathroom?" she asked and I nodded "Okay, here. I saw this bathtub and fell in love. Look at the size of it! Here’s the layout." she showed me the bathroom, the shower, big enough for a handful of people, the two vanities, a dressing table in between and the huge bathtub. It looked perfect.

"Perfect… like honestly! Lizzie you outdone yourself." I pulled her into me, smiling at her blushed cheeks "I can’t wait to move into our home together. It’s going to be so perfect. You are so perfect."

"Oh stop. I had a lot of help from Carla and our mum’s…" she almost whispered and I tilted her head up.

"Yeah but it’s your vision they help you with. You make this place our home." I kissed her, feeling her melting under my touch.

"Oh for fucks sake! Take a room! Ugggghhhh… I’m leaving!" Andrea groaned and I laughed.

"Wait for me, I’m not staying behind with these two lovebirds! Let’s go to Six Flags alone!" Joris said, following Andrea.

"Noooo! Wait for me!" Lizzie scrambled off of me and I huffed.

"Excuse me?" I looked at her.

"Wait for us?" she said meekly and grinned.

"Exactly. Wait for us!" we got up and followed the guys outside.

"I heard you’re excited for all the roller coasters." Lizzie teased Andrea and he laughed nervously "It’s okay. I’ll hold your hand when it get’s scary."

"I can also just wait for you guys…" he began but Lizzie shook her head.

"Nope. You’re coming with us on the rides! It will be fun! Believe me!"

It was fun. For Lizzie. For me. Not for Andre. Also not for Joris. Lizzie made her puppy eyes and made us ride everything there was and the colour from Andrea and Joris’ faces drained with every new ride more and more.

"Cara mia, I think you’ve exhausted them…" I whispered when we drove back to our Airbnb in the evening, the two guys half asleep in the backseat of the car. Lizzie turned and looked at them, one paler than the other.

"I’m sorry boys…" she chuckled, smiling apologetic.

"No you’re not!" Joris groaned.

"I can’t wait for when it’s time to go racing again!" Andrea sighed, leaning his head back "Thank god we’re leaving in two days, before you kill us."

"I’m definitely not getting paid enough for being tortured like that by your girlfriend…" Joris murmured and I had to laugh.

"Oh come on! It wasn’t that bad!" I said and they both looked at me pointedly.

"Your girl is a crazy spitfire and you know it!" Andrea said and I turned to Lizzie, grabbing her hand.

"That she is." I kissed the back of her hand and watched her blush "My girl."

"Coming to you Lizzie, what do you think of the race weekend here in Las Vegas?" Tom Clarkson asked and I looked over at Max, who looked just as disinterested as I felt.

"Honestly? Max said everything there is to say, I don’t have much to add. It’s all a big show for nothing. It’s turning into a circus, gets bigger and bigger when we all come here for one reason only: we want to race. We don’t need all of this stuff around. Events left and right. The sport itself is interesting enough. We don’t need all this bullshit around we get to see here." I said and Max nodded laughing.

"Alright, thank you, Lizzie. We open the floor now for some questions."

I didn’t listen to most of the questions and the ones for me were basically all the same, how I liked it here, what I expected from the race. When I walked out with Max and Charles, Max and I couldn’t even stop shit talking the whole event, leading to Charles rolling his eyes, saying that we were too dramatic.

"No Charlie boy, we’re not dramatic. We want to race. And not get paraded around like a freaking attraction…" I sighed.

"Listen to your girlfriend mate!" Max chuckled as our ways parted and he walked towards the RedBull hospitality.

"You should stop being so negative! Maybe the weekend will be great! I know, the opening ceremony was maybe a little bit too much, I agree but overall? The atmosphere is amazing, don’t you think?" Charles nudged my shoulder.

"Yeah maybe… let’s see how the racing is, you know? Racing? The reason why we’re here?" I looked at him and he pinched my side.

"You’re so funny… not… you’ll see! The racing will be great! How often do we get an entire new track just like that?"

"Umm- just last year in Miami?"

"Oh for fucks sake, Lizzie! Come on! It will be fun! You’ll see!" Charles rolled his eyes.

But what I saw was a messed up Friday on a track that had to be checked entirely for its drain covers and made us wait for for what felt like a whole eternity to come back for free practice 2.

At least the Saturday started better and when Charles made it on pole, a big smile on his face, I decided to swallow down my grudge against the track, because it looked like he was really enjoying racing here in Vegas.

"So? What do you say? Will you be the first winner of the Las Vegas GP?" I asked Charles when we were walking back from the national anthem and he laughed.

"I sure hope so, but you never know, Max is right behind me, then you, Checo… it won’t be easy!"

"And don’t forget Danny Ric! He made it just in time to be ready to race here in Vegas! And he’s starting on P6!" I said right as said driver pushed his way through us.

"Watch it lovebirds…" he chuckled and I slapped his arm.

"Oh you better stop, I saw you yapping all over my sister just an hour ago…" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah yeah, whatever!" Charles laughed and kissed my cheek "Good luck, cara mia, Daniel. Let’s have some fun out there."

Fun? No. Crazy? Yes. The start already saw 4 cars retiring with Checo, Lewis, Norris and Sainz all out of the race. The red flag was waved and George, Oscar and Alonso all had to get some new front wings and tyres. As the race re-started it took only three more laps for the next yellow flag and safety car, Alonso being the fifth car to retire.

"It’s crazy! How many cars are out already? 5?" I radioed.

"Yes 5. Don’t make it 6, focus on your race, please." Pete replied and I chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah…"

I continued, watching Charles and Max battle hard for the race lead.

"Lizzie, red flag, Magnussen out. Careful, there’s a lot of debris." Pete radioed right as I drove over said debris.

"Fuck, I think I’ve damaged my floor. Is Kevin okay?"

"He’s okay. Return to the pits, we need to check your car."

As soon as I was back in the pits and saw Matt’s face when he got up from the floor I knew it was over. I had to retire.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie. It happened so fast, I couldn’t warn you any earlier." Pete apologised as soon as I was out of the car, taking my helmet off.

"It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It sucks but it’s like this." I patted his back.

"Oh wow, Charles 2.0…" he chuckled and I laughed, right when Liam appeared out of nowhere.

"I’m sorry Lizzie." he hugged my waist and I ruffled his hair a little.

"It’s okay, now let’s watch Charlie and Daniel, shall we?" I picked him up and he nodded.

"You have to go the interviews first…" Julie reminded me and I sighed.

"Alright, I’ll be back soon Liam." I kissed his cheek before I put him down on the stool in front of dad, while mum hugged me.

"I’m sorry…" she whispered.

"No, I’m sorry! The first race in a while that you attend and I bottle it."

"You didn’t bottle it. You were unfortunate!" Dad side hugged me and I sighed.

"Yeah, maybe… now let’s hope that Charles wins it and Danny keeps his podium." I shrugged and followed Julie to the media pen.

The interviews were quickly done and on my way back I watched Shima and Joris all cozy in the almost empty Ferrari hospitality. When they saw me they pulled away from each other and I had to laugh. It seemed like she wasn’t here just to see me after all. I walked back into our garage, just in time to see the final lap, Max winning the race, followed by Charles and Daniel.

"He almost won." Liam sighed and I nodded.

"He did. But he had an amazing weekend, just like Danny, we can be proud of them!" I said and he nodded, playing with something in his pocket.

"Can we go to the fence? I want to congratulate them!" Liam said and I smiled.

"Of course, Bubba, let’s go."

I sat Liam on the fence and we looked up at the podium, where Max, Charles and Daniel were spraying the champagne and having a party of their own.

"It’s been a while since I saw him that happy!" Sissy said and I looked at her.

"Oh come on! That’s just a teeny tiny bit more than when he’s with you and Liam!" I said and bumped her shoulder.

"Believe me, that was a mask for a long time… losing his seat was the worst thing that could’ve happen…" she almost whispered it as she looked up again, tears in her eyes. As if Daniel felt that she was looking he turned around, forming a little heart with his fingers and sending it to my sister "Look at this dork!"

I smiled as I saw how my sister blushed. The truth was I’ve never seen her more happy than with Daniel. And with Liam loving him wholeheartedly as well, I knew that she finally found the one. The one that was now approaching us, with the biggest grin on his face, scooping up Liam and whispering something into his ear, the little lad nodding excitedly and handing him something. Daniel handed him over to Charles, who made big eyes as Liam whispered something into his ear. I watched how Daniel swooped up Sissy, twirling her around, saying something to her.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed loudly and Daniel only nodded and kissed her, then sat her down looking in her eyes "You‘re kidding, right?"

"Hell no! Let’s do it tonight!" he said and took her hand and I almost choked as I saw him slipping a ring onto her finger "Everyone is here! I don’t want to wait a single day! What are you saying?"

"I-I umm…" she looked frantically around, Charles sat Liam down on the ground and he ran up to her.

"Say yes Mummy! YES!" he was overly excited and Charles hugged me from behind, watching what was happening.

"Yes. YES!" Sissy said and Daniel kissed her, before he scooped up Liam and hugged them both.

"What did just happen?" I whispered and Charles kissed my temple.

"Danny Ric just happened." he chuckled and I smiled.

"I don’t even have a dress? This is crazy! Why are we doing this? I mean… come on! We could wait! How are we supposed to plan a wedding in what? 12 hours? It’s the middle of the night? What are we doing?" Sissy was pacing back and forth while Mum, Shima and I just sat there, listening to her rambling.

"It’s Vegas! I think finding a dress won’t be too difficult? Shima’s here, she can fix anything you find into something great! Maybe not your dream wedding dress, but a beautiful one nonetheless? And again, it’s Vegas! This city never sleeps! Planning a wedding shouldn’t be too hard? I mean we are in one of the fanciest hotels already? Let me check if they have a nice location where we can celebrate? Finding a chapel won't be too hard either…" I chuckled and Mum nodded.

"Yeah and it’s not like we’re a whole lot of people? It's doable, maybe it's not the wedding of your dreams… bute he’s the man of your dreams, or not?” she looked at Sissy who smiled.

"You're right! Let’s plan!" she said and sat down.

“Alright, first things first. Guests, I need to know how many people we are to find a location… you and Danny and Liam, his family, that’s 5, us, that’s another 5. Wait I text him if he wants to invite any of the other drivers… alright, let’s talk dresses, Shima that’s your part…" I made a note on my phone, then looked up, Sissy and Mum looking at me with big eyes "What?"

"Nothing… you’re doing great, can I go to bed and you do the rest?"Sissy chuckled and I laughed.

"Nope. You figure out what colours you want, what flowers and stuff like that, while I… oh Danny texted… okay, small wedding, only Max, Christian, his wife and Pierre with Kika… that makes… 18?” I checked my phone and wrote down the names.

"Joris?" Mum said and we all grinned at Shima. "Yes!" Sissy looked at me and I wrote them down.

"I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that…" Shima mumbled and I laughed.

"Oh shut it… you think you’re subtle, but let me tell you, you’re not… whatever is going on with you and him… we know… so 19."

"Whatever… dresses… I know some designers from here, I text them, let’s see what we can organise? I mean, it’s 2am they won’t answer until the morning, but yeah…" Shima began typing away on her phone.

"Alright, I need a time, when do we start?"

I looked at Sissy and Mum.

"Umm-… maybe 6pm? So everyone can have a little sleep, maybe? I mean, it won’t be a big and long ceremony? It’s Vegas, after all it’s going to be fast and funny?" Sissy said and I nodded.

"Okay… so we are… 19 people? Yeah? That’s doable I guess. I go downstairs to check the front desk… ask them if they have like a little ball room? I don’t know? Something fitting for a wedding? You think about dresses and I don’t know, colours? Food? The other stuff…" I got up.

"What other stuff?" Mum asked and I shrugged.

"I don’t know, you’re married, you planned your wedding, so you know what to do…" I left the room, right when Charles called.

"Hows the wedding planning going?" he asked and I laughed.

"I’m on my way to the front desk, asking for a room and someone who can marry them…"

"Elvis might be a good option." Charles laughed.

"Very original- ha ha… no seriously. Maybe they offer like an all inclusive last minute deal? I don’t know… we’re roughly 20 people, it should be organisable, no?" I sighed a little, leaning against the elevator wall "When are you coming back?"

"Soon, we’re just trying on some suits, Danny found a tailor that’s still open, Vegas, I swear… is the dress shopping also this easy?"

"Shima knows some designers from here, she contacted them, but yeah, probably the real process starts in the morning, but it’s fine, we get there." I yawned a little, entering the lobby "Text me when you’re in your way back, I’m at the front desk now."

"Alright, cara mia, see you later!" he hung up and I walked up to the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Doetterer, how can I help you?" the lady said and smiled at me.

"Umm- this might sound crazy… but I need a room, location, whatever to held a wedding. Ceremony, reception, party all in one place would be amazing. For around 20 people, today at 6pm?" I said cautiously, expecting the blondes smile to drop.

"Oh believe me, this isn’t even close to the craziest things I’ve been asked for in the past… this is Las Vegas after all, planning a wedding in less than… 15 hours? We can do that." she said, her smile got even brighter "Is it for you and Mr. Leclerc then?"

"What? Oh no- no! It’s for my sister and Danny Ric… umm Daniel Ricciardo." I said hastily and she nodded.

"Very well, let’s plan your sister’s one of a kind Las Vegas wedding then."

"Man, I love Vegas. Let’s plan!"

As I watched my sister and Daniel share their first dance as husband and wife I had to smile. We did it. We planned an amazing wedding. The room looked elegant and classy. The cake looked delicious. The flowers were beautiful. But above all Sissy looked stunning. The dress Shima organised and altered here and there was simple, classy and timeless. Liam in his mini suit running around, looking adorable as ever was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Did I mention before how beautiful you look? That dress is just… wow… what a nice little black dress." Charles whispered in my ear, spinning me around, standing behind me.

"You look not to bad yourself, handsome." I chuckled and he hugged me from behind.

"I’m proud of you. You did all that in less than what? 12 hours?" Charles said, putting his chin on my shoulder, swaying us a little.

"The hotel did most of the job, I told them what we wanted, Sissy said the colours and flowers, Shima took care of the dress and Mum took care of the menu. Given all the input to the hotel, they did the biggest chunk of work." I shook my head a little.

"But you were managing it. And you did amazing. It’s a beautiful wedding. Makes me wonder-…" he stopped abruptly and I turned my head a little.

"Makes you wonder what?" I looked at him.

"Makes me wonder how our wedding will be one day… when you have time to plan it for weeks… considering what you did in a couple of hours."

"To find that out, you need to ask me to marry you first." I chuckled.

"Oh, don’t worry cara mia… I’m planning to." he kissed my cheek and then winked at me, before he left, picking Liam up who tried to have a go at the cake "Little munchkin, you have to wait!"

"But I want now some cake! It looks so fluffy and yummy!" Liam pouted.

"You’ll get your slice, don’t worry! You just have to wait a little!" Charles laughed and Liam sighed.

"Okay… but cakes are the best thing at parties, we should eat them first." he grumbled and walked off, climbing in dad’s lap, probably lamenting his suffering.

Liam was right, the cake was just what he said. Fluffy and yummy. After his second slice and some more dancing mum and dad, bid their farwell, taking Liam with them, right when some waiters brought in a couple of new bottles of champagne.

Daniel grabbed a bottle and began shaking it, before he banged it on the table

"I’d say, let’s party!" Danny popped the bottle and the night began with champagne showers.

Pain. A mind-numbing, throbbing pain. Like someone was scratching at my eyeballs from the insides, a jackhammer doing its worst inside my brain. My stomach began to churn and I groaned, trying to untangle my legs from the sheets and Charles legs, his arms holding me tight around the waist.

"Charles… let go of me…" I whispered, a loud snore my answer "Charles I’m serious… I have to…"

"What is it?" he groaned.

"Have to… throw up…" was the only thing I could manage to breathe out when he let go of me immediately and I stumbled out of bed, tripping over something on the floor "Fuck." I crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time to empty my stomach into the toilet.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?" Charles hoarse voice wafting through the fog in my brain.

"Peachy. Just peachy." I mumbled, slowly getting up from the floor rinsing my mouth "I need…"

"What do you need?"

"I don’t know…" I splashed cold water in my face, feeling some short lived relief from the drumming inside my head "I need pain killers…" I grabbed two hand towels and soaked them in cold water, wrung them out and stumbled back to bed, tripping again over something on the floor.

"What the fuck…" I groaned.

"What the fuck…" the something hissed.

"Pierre?" I sat up, blinking

"Yeah?" he mumbled and Charles switched on the night stand lamp.

"What the fuck are you doing on the floor? In our room?" Charles asked, his voice groggy.

"Don’t know. Don’t care. Switch the light off." he turned away, pulling his blanket over his head.

"There’s a couch. Sleep there!" I whispered but saw how he shook his head.

"Floor is cold. Good for my head." he mumbled and I sighed.

"Alright…" I slowly scrambled back to the bed and climbed in, letting the cold towel

flop on Charles face, he flinched but chuckled a little.

"Thanks, cara mia." he moved over and kissed my cheek.

Half sitting, half laying I rummaged through my bag on the nightstand, looking for some painkillers and popped out a pill as soon as I found them, swallowing it down with some water.

"What happened last night?" I whined, lying back, covering my forehead with the cold towel.

"Your sister and Danny Ric got married." Charles yawned.

"Fuck yes they did!" Pierre laughed on the floor.

"And why are we half dead?" I asked.

"Because none of us knows their limit apparently…" Charles groaned.

"Nope." Pierre half laughed half snored "Can we now maybe be quiet for a bit? My head hurts…"

"Here…" I grabbed the painkillers, popped another pill out and threw the blister then at him, followed by a bottle of water rolled over the floor.

"Ouch!" Pierre whined, when the bottle was stopped by his head "Thank you…"

"Here, for you…" I handed Charles a pill.

"You’re an angel." he kissed my cheek and turned around, grabbing his water.

"What are you even doing in our room, Pierre?" I asked, watching him all sprawled out on the floor, cheeks smushed into the cold marble floor.

"I don’t know… we were at the wedding. We were gambling… we were drinking… we were at a club… we were drinking… we were gambling… I remember In’and’Out Burger and then this cute little white house where we took some pictures. And I swear Elvis was there as well…"

"I wouldn’t say no to a burger…" I whispered and Charles chuckled.

"You get one as soon as we get up…" he kissed my shoulder "Which will be soon… our flight is in a couple of hours."

"How much time do we have left?" I yawned.

"Wait… our flight is at 4… and now it’s… it’s almost 12!" Charles sat up and I flinched "Fuck… sorry, cara mia. But we have to pack, get ready and…"

"For fucks sake! We have time! Shut up now…" Pierre groaned.

"Not agreeing how he said it, but agreeing with what he said…" I shrugged, pulling the blanket over my head "30 minutes… come on…"

"30 minutes! Not one minute longer!"

I sighed contently and closed my eyes. Feeling the throbbing in my head subsiding slowly as the cold towel did its job. The loud snores from Pierre were the only disturbance and as I turned to grab one of the pillows beside the bed to throw at him, I touched my phone the screen illuminating half the room and my look fell on the time.

"FUCK! FUCK!" I shouted, Charles and Pierre both flinching and sitting up "We overslept! It’s almost 2!"

"FUCK!" both boys exclaimed.

Pierre scrambled up, trying to stand looking around like a lost puppy.

"Where is my keycard? Why am I even here." he groaned, searching through his pockets "Fuck."

"Call Kika!" I suggested and Pierre took out his phone, calling his girlfriend.

"Okay, let’s pack…" Charles mumbled, opening up our suitcases, throwing in everything he could find "Here…" he threw one of his hoodies at me, while I grabbed some fresh clothes "Get ready in the bathroom, I handle this mess…"

"Hey! I’m no mess!" Pierre looked at him and I chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom.

My vision was still blurry and I sat down on the bathtub edge, brushing my teeth. I stripped off my clothes, put on some socks and leggings before I washed my face. As soon as the second wave of cold water hit my face and I wiped my eyes I looked in the mirror, my eyes immediately falling on the ring on my left ring finger.

"What the fuck…" I gulped, starring at the silver ring.

"Yeah… what the fuck…" Charles walked slowly inside, holding up his left hand, the same ring adorning his finger.

"What the fuck happened last night…"

Chapter 41 - I hope you guys are feeling as hot after reading, as me when I was writing it 🤭 the infamous Las Vegas race giving us really everything there was to get, including one (two?!) wedding(s) … 👀

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeholt3 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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If you are taking requests, i was thinking of a poly!lestappen. Where the reader is a F1 presenter and she's excited that Oliver is doing hus debut at Ferrari because its one of her favorite drivers in F2 and both Max and Charles get jealous. Like she asks Charles to take care of Oliver since he's still 18 and its his debut.

You still have forty minutes to spare until you have to go live, so, you make your way to the track, where everyone’s waiting for the Drivers Parade.

You spot your boys pretty easily, they are standing close but deep in conversation with different people. Max is talking with his teammate and Lando, while Charles is talking with Ollie. You really don’t want to interrupt but the Monégasque has already seen you, and for the looks of it, he’s telling the younger boy about you because he turns his head in your direction, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Charles greets you, his arm finding your waist in a second. He loves having you close to him, touching any part of your body.

“Hey, Charlie.” You kiss his cheek, wiping the lipstick stain. “How are you feeling, Ollie? You did amazing yesterday!”

The british boy blushes, a shy smile dancing across his lips. “Oh, thank you. I’m excited and nervous too.” He looks at Charles for a second before turning to you. “Charles has given me some advice, so, I’m feeling a little more confident.”

Lewis calls Ollie’s name, waving at him from the back of the room.

“I’ll see you after the race, I hope?” The younger boy asks, and you nod. He waves goodbye to you and his teammate for a day, and walks away.

“Did you came here to give us a good luck kiss?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice behind you and then a kiss being placed on the top of your head.

“You know it’s something that would never change.” You stand on your tiptoes, kissing Max’s lips briefly, turning to Charles you do the same. “but I also came here to tell you to take care of Ollie,” You say looking at your brown-haired boyfriend. “But you are already doing a good job, so,” This time you look at Max, giving him your best puppy eyes. “Would you do that for me? Just wish him good luck or something before the race, I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

Charles and Max look at you with eyebrows raised, confusion in his eyes.

“What?”

“You came here for that?” Charles says, sounding a little hurt.

“I came here to give my boyfriends a good luck kiss like I always do,” You try to explain that by talking slowly. “But I also came for Ollie. I’ve known him and his family for as long as I’ve known you two.”

But that’s not enough for them, because Max rolls his eyes and looks away.

Okay. They’re acting weird.

“Wait,” You try not to laugh when a thought crosses your mind. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

They avoid making eye contact.

“Oh my God,” And this time you laugh, because you can’t believe it. Sometimes you forget how childish they are. “You are jealous of an eighteen year old boy. Are you aware of that?”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

You shake your head, closing the distance between you and Charles to kiss him one last time. You do exactly the same with Max.

“Good luck, pretty boys.” They watch you walk away, but then you are turning around, stopping to glare at them. “If you don’t take care of Ollie, we won’t be celebrating tonight.”

“What? That’s so unfair!”

“He’s the enemy!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #poly!f1 #charles leclerc x you #lestappen x reader #poly!lestappen

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tartarusknight · 30 days

Text

Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.

Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.

Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.

Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.

And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.

Until now...

Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.

Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.

The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.

Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.

However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.

"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.

Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.

"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.

"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.

"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.

He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him

Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"

Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."

Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."

Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.

They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.

"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.

Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.

He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."

They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.

"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.

Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.

"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.

Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #steve harrington #trauma response #mike needs a hug #steve needs a hug #knightly talks

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astraltrickster · 11 months

Text

What frustrates me about disability advocacy is that...of all the people I've seen talk about it, 99% of them - even ones who are disabled themselves - have eventually proven that their support has limits. Really stupid and arbitrary ones, at that.

You support disabled people...but if you see an adult with a DIAPER BULGE in their pants in public it's ON SIGHT, get your kink out of my face! Actually, even if it's not a kink, that's still gross and, like, it's not like the diaper exists to CONTAIN waste, you're a biohazard! Just stay home!

You support disabled people...but, ugh, you're so sick of masks, they feel so icky, the CDC isn't advising them anymore so really how bad can it be, if you don't want to be permanently disabled even worse than you already are then why don't you just stay home forever?

You support disabled people...but if you see anyone using a non-conventional straw that someone's billed as "anti-aging" on TikTok you proudly declare that you'll smack them, because what do you mean it might be a motor control or sensory thing?

You support disabled people...but no one is REALLY so disabled that they can't manage their lights conventionally, clean their homes by themselves, or hold a pen for extended periods of time or at all; that's just something people make up as an excuse for Bad Tech and exploitative luxury services.

You support disabled people...but, god, control your by-definition-uncontrollable tics, they're SOOOO annoying and rude!

You support disabled people...but when someone stops masking or runs out of spoons and starts speaking in a choppy, hard-to-understand way, it's a joke.

You support disabled people...but AAC is, like, sooooo annoying and hard to understand, learn to talk like a normal person instead of pointing like a baby or whatever, geez.

You support disabled people...but you hate image descriptions and video transcriptions because they're, like, sooooo ugly and transcriptions SPOIL things. (Not to be confused with "frequently not having the spoons to translate images and videos into text, which is a skill; one which everyone should try to develop, but a skill nonetheless" - I get that, it happens to me, but if you take issue with OTHER people adding them to your posts for Aesthetic Reasons, you're...kind of a dick! I'm not sorry for saying it!)

You support disabled people...but you think teehee funny joke annotations are a much more valuable use of caption tracks than, you know, actual captions are.

You support disabled people...but you still concern-troll people with armchair diagnoses of heavily stigmatized disorders for harmless weirdness, or try to paint them as icons of some kind of horrible social ill.

You support disabled people...but you're still convinced that every asshole is mentally ill, probably A Narcissist, and what do you mean that's a loaded thing to call someone when a heavily stigmatized disorder is rudely misnamed as such too, isn't it easier to, like, change the name of the disorder throughout the whole system than it is to just stop using that word as your go-to Bad Person Pathologizing Word, which you definitely need? (Or worse, you see no problem with this clash because you're convinced it IS Bad Person Disorder...)

You support disabled people...but you see someone mumbling to themself on the bus and you get as far away from them as possible because it's "scary".

You support disabled people...but you constantly try to pull "gotcha"s about people telling you not to touch people's assistive devices.

You support disabled people...but someone being okay with their delusional disorder and talking about that is BAD and PROMOTING SELF-HARM.

You support disabled people...but your body positivity still focuses exclusively on "people can be healthy and fat at the same time!" as if people who ARE fat because of health issues and/or have health issues BECAUSE of their weight don't exist or deserve support.

You support disabled people...but you declare that advocates who want us all to have more access to things that improve your quality of life are the REAL ableists for acknowledging that those things that you currently can't do tend to improve quality of life.

You support disabled people...but your advocacy for yourself involves distancing yourself from people with more support needs than you.

You support disabled people...but you treat addiction of any kind, or use of anything with known addictive tendencies, as a moral failing.

You support disabled people...until the accommodations they need clash with your own, then it's not just a benign incompatibility that sucks just as much for them as it does for you; no, you are an innocent victim and they are a horrible ableist.

You support disabled people...until it's too inconvenient. Too weird. Too scary. Once that line is crossed, it's not a disability issue anymore, they're, conveniently, just a Bad Person.

It's fucking exhausting and I'm sick to death of it.

#disability #serious tag #bitching #and even after i posted this i keep thinking of more shit people have said #not gonna edit them in because this post is long and has already been reblogged a couple of times #but might keep track of them in the tags or add more in a reblog #because. i can keep going.

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steddiealltheway · 2 months

Text

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #robin buckley

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tgcg · 2 months

Text

this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

#dave strider #homestuck #comix #this is my element #the way i drew dave posing here is rly heavily inspired by askinsufferableprick btw #welcome to strider infodump hours

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fureliselost · 5 months

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Dpxdc twin au in which Danny and Damian are fraternal twins

It's a classic "the Fentons misunderstood Danny's name and registered him as Daniel" but they accidentally transe Danny's gender and Danny never corrects them. Strangely, Danny likes it.

Eventually, the Fentons figure out, but Danny says he doesn't mind and they go with it.

(note: In this Danny is kinda nb/transmasc/gender weird, gender is neutral to him and he's fine with being called whatever, although male pronouns are the ones he uses the most)

Cut to Danny being dragged by Vlad to a gala (Vlad can be good but annoying in this idc) and Vlad is proudly displaying his "godson".

Duke: Hey, Damian, did you see the kid Vlad Masters brought?

Damian: I thought father said he wouldn't go into business with Masters.

Duke: He still attends for appearances. (Shrugs) Anyway, got any twins you didn't tell us about?

Damian: Yes.

Duke: 'Cause that guy looks just like—what?

Damian: I said I have a twin you don't know about.

Damian explains to the batclan that Danny was sent on a mission (as punishment) to keep track of the Fentons, since they studied "Lazarus Water". And then they forgot about it. The last time Damian heard of Danny was right before the accident.

On Danny's side, he knows Damian will be there before he goes — he's kept track of his twin's public persona (and vigilante life). He'd been doing a great job of not interacting and keeping from being spotted, as was protocol for if two agents ended up on the same field — he knew Damian wasn't an agent anymore, but assumed the protocol still applied. He knew, the moment Duke Thomas spoke to him and then went straight toward Damian, that he'd failed that protocol.

Now, Damian was trying to convince him to leave the League.

"Daniyah, there is another way."

"I know there is another way," Danny replied, "Except I told you about it for years and you never listened." During the years away from his family, Danny had missed them, his memory softened the feeling of anger at the way his twin always moulded his ideals to whoever ruled him. "We aren't supposed to be speaking, I'm still an agent, I'm breaking protocol by being here."

They'd sneaked off to a room along with Damian's siblings, who watched attently and and silently. "You don't have to be an agent anymore."

"Yes, I do." Danny spat, "You don't seem to have realized, but some of us don't have the privilege of being the favorite. I never had the privilege of being saved."

Damian scowled, "Being saved is not a privilege."

"It isn't," Danny agreed, "You're just forgetting that when you got freedom in reward, I got sent on a mission as punishment. You're still free and I'm still being punished, so I'm not sure you understand exactly what my position is." He moved to leave, "I'm not a damsel in distress, and I don't need your furry parade to save me."

#dp #eli rants #eli fics #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc

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lovelybrooke · 2 months

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Platonic Yandere Angels x immortal reader

Very long awaited, I know. This takes place at the same time as my Overlords x reader headcanons (so during pt2). I'm very nervous about writing this, so please tell me how I did. Also, just like the Overlords, I'm only talking about the Angels we know about, not anyone that was on screen for like a second.

masterlist

---

Heaven knew something was up.

A few weeks ago, there was a sudden shift, something only Sera seemed to notice. It was small, but it made Sera stop in her tracks, almost like she was waiting for something. It made Emily nervous, seeing someone so strong become so confused over--something. Sera spent days trying to figure out what was up, she knew Hell had to be a part of it. There isn't anything else it could be, she thought.

She soon found you--a human child in hell. Your arrival in hell must've been the thing that she felt that day, it all makes sense now. However, her feeling of accomplishment soon became fear, a human child is, for some reason, in hell and is being taken care of some of the strongest demons. What worried her even more was the fact that you were alive. You were still human, at least as human as someone can be in hell, and something was holding you back, keeping your humanity within you. She was terrified for your safety, so when Charlie was invited to Heaven to figure out in souls in hell can be redeemed, she knew that your presence would be a topic of conversation.

Before that though, she tasked Adam with keeping an eye on you. She didn't want to tell Emily, she knew she would ask questions that couldn't be answered. She knew Emily would figure it out eventually, but that was a worry for another day. What's more concerning is Adam. He sees you as a prize to be won, not a person. He saw you as just another thing he could use against those demons. He noticed how taken they were with you, and instantly knew how great it would feel to rip you away from them. Lute was really the only one who supported her boss in this endeavor. She didn't really have any strong opinions on you, other than that you should be in Heaven, but that's mostly because that's what her boss wants.

The others down in Hell have no way of knowing about the Angel's knowledge about you until Charlies official Heaven visit. Charlie had no reason to think that Heaven knew about you, so when they bring you up, she's extremely confused. Emily is even more confused, and slightly upset that Sera would hide this from her. Out of everything she could hide from her, the existence of a human child is definitely one of them. She couldn't stay mad for long, because Sera was quick on informing Charlie that Hell is no place for a human, especially one so alive. Sera suggested that they bring you to Heaven, and you stay there until everything is sorted out and you're back where you belong.

Emily knew Sera felt something for you, something much deeper than Sera felt comfortable admitting. She was a Seraphim angel, older than the Earth itself, strong and powerful and wise, all brought to a head because of the existence of some human in hell. Emily couldn't deny that you were interesting, and even though she was upset that you were kept a secret from her, she was less upset with Sera and more upset that she didn't get to meet you until now. Well meet is a weird word, more so found out. You seemed nice, very sweet, too sweet to be in Hell. You deserved to be somewhere nice, and maybe once you were brought to Heaven, you two could become great friends. She knows that eventually you would have to go home, but she wanted you to smile more, you seemed so sad down there.

Adam reveled in the confused look on Charlies face. She really thought you, a human, were just going to stay in Hell forever? This was all hilarious, watching as the stupid little demon princess try to argue that Hell is your home and that you're not going anywhere. It was the first time he saw her actually frustrated, angry almost. It just made you more interesting to him. Adam's never cared much about Humans, but there must be something great about you to make you so important to these demons.

Sera knew you needed to come to Heaven, you were in grave danger with these demons, and in her heart she knew she was doing the right thing. As she and the rest of the court watch you down in hell, alone in your room of the hotel, she knew you needed her help. You were tired, shown through your exhausted behavior. You could barely keep your eyes open, and before she knew it, you were asleep. According to Adam, this is the first time you've slept in weeks, and Sera instantly knew she'd seen enough. You were neglected, a helpless child with a pit of vipers, and she would be the one to save you.

Charlie and her partner adamantly disagreed to sending you to Heaven. This, paired with the Sera's decision to refuse the reforming of demons made Charlie extremely upset and tired. She tried to do everything to prove to them that demons could do good, so why wasn't it enough. She just wanted to go home and see you, make sure you were okay.

Sera felt another shift again, and suddenly, you were gone. She watched as Charlie scrambled to find you, and she herself looked everywhere she could for even a trace of you, but there was nothing. You must have somehow gone back to Earth, she should be happy. She should be content knowing that your back where you belong, but for some reason, she disappointed. She wished to know who you were, what you were like. She wished to give you a better life than the ones those demons were providing. But now you were gone, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Maybe once you actually die, she'll get to meet you again. But until then she'll be waiting for you.

---

A/n: This is short I know but the angels are so hard to write for. Please help me...

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel

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steviewashere · 4 months

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Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

#stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #first kiss #Steve Harrington has a bisexual awakening #Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder

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letoasai · 9 months

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dp x dc Chronos part 2

Part 1 and Part 3

The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy.

Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.

“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.”

“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes.

“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of interference.”

“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.

“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.”

“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side.

Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.”

“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?”

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens.

“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?”

Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower.

Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs.

“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not.

“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm.

The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.”

“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice.

“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.”

“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.

The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.”

“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.”

He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on.

“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?”

He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.”

The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled.

“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God.

“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely.

“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others.

“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.”

He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally.

“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories.

Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.

“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention.

“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.”

The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled.

“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?”

Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.”

“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass.

“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough.

Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?”

“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.”

She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.”

Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.”

Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?”

“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.” Chronos said.

“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed.

“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks.

“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse.

“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.”

“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.”

Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.”

“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with.

It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers.

Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined.

Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned.

His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head.

When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.”

“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.”

“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly.

Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest.

The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only.

Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.”

“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned.

“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.”

“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?”

Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand.

Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.”

“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen.

“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.

“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked.

“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer.

“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared.

Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen.

“Well…” Superman muttered.

Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.”

“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile.

Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------

------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^

@markus209

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #clockwork #justice league #Looks like Wonder Woman is Danny's guardian now #Danny Phantom #wonder woman

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scoutswritingcorner · 10 days

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Deerly Beloved PT.2

Alastor x GN!Deer!Reader

Part 1

TW:NONE

A/n: Cause some people asked for this.

-🦌 Starting where I left off last time: Eskimo kisses are the only kisses he will give out in public or in the hotel. It’s just become routine for you both to do it to one another. He’ll bend down, tilt your head up by your chin and just give you little eskimo kisses before he leaves.

-🦌 If he’s actually going to kiss you, it will be behind closed doors and away from private eyes. He can’t get enough of it.

-🦌 He’s very suave. But he’s also equally as awkward. Like he can flirt with you all day but then you flirt back and he’s just standing there eyes wide and confused.

-🦌 More awkward Alastor? He has trouble reading the room sometimes so he just kinda stands somewhere. (honestly me too bud-)

-🦌 If you have horns he’s either laying his chin on your head between them or trying to balance things on them. Please sit still, this could go on for hours. The last thing he could get on there was a marshmallow. (He cleans your horns for you don’t worry)

-🦌 This man is stuck to you like glue. Like- You could be doing your job around the hotel and he’s hugging you from behind and carrying you around. Charlie has to tell him to let you work. He gets grumpy.

-🦌 Sometimes he just stares off into space and he’s unresponsive for a bit. Prime time to get him back. Hang something on his horns and act like nothing happened when he clocks back into reality.

-🦌When he gets mad at you for something? He stomps his hooves and walks off. It’s his way of throwing a tantrum without causing too much a scene.

-🦌 He’s not up to date on modern slang at all so if he gets on your nerves bamboozle the old man with some weird slang and he’ll be confused for an hour or so until someone tells him.

-🦌 Fall asleep somewhere and he’ll sit by or near you to watch over you, he’s usually reading but he makes sure everyone in the room leaves you alone.

-🦌 He loves having you sitting on his lap, it’s solely because he likes comparing your hooves together. Like- you could be asleep and he’d be talking still about your hooves. He doesn’t take offense to you falling asleep while he talks, he’s grateful his voice soothes you.

-🦌 Like anything- he has deer tendencies. Like grooming you, he loves to help brush your hair and fix your clothing. He lets you do the same to him. It helps keep down his more animalistic urges.

-🦌 I 100% feel like he knows how to braid, wash and help brush any type of hair. Whether it’s curly, wavy, straight, coily, thick, anything. If you ask him, he will help. His Mama taught him well.

-🦌 If you get self conscious of your horns falling out cause it does happen he’ll help in anyway he can. He will make a joke about you missing something though. Be aware.

-🦌 Once again, he loves playing silly little games with you. Like in my last post, a fucked up game of tag where he’s chasing you around the hotel cause he can or play fighting with you cause its fun. His other favorite game of his is hiding your things around the hotel.

-🦌 (Don’t imagine him in a white shirt, suspenders and trousers. Don’t do it gang.)

-🦌 Once again. He will pick you up if you take too long with something and he will be unapologetic. He’s got a busy schedule! (He’s getting restless).

A/n: This turned into me thinking about silly things he does and I’m so sorry. I got way off track..ENJOY!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you

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gaylactic-fire · 9 months

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Ok so I PROMISE this is my last post on Link and Zelda height comparison, but having two popular posts about manlet Link that blew up I get notes every day like "Link is shorter in ALL the games." (Not true!! Misinformation!!) and also people complaining about the references I used. So I decided to actually put effort into finding good, side by side height comparisons. For my own sake, but also for artists who need references!

[BTW this is also solely based on in game models and not concept / promo art. Come to your own conclusion there, bc some art directly contradicts the models]

First off, pretty much all the pixel Zelda games have Link and Zelda's sprites in and around the same height, give or take. There's definitely wiggle room here for interpretation (Zelda 1 Link having one spare pixel dedicated to his hat and Zelda in Zelda 2 appearing like she's crouching) but overall it's safe to assume these Links and Zeldas are around the same height if you're staying faithful to the sprites.

Spirit Tracks, Twilight Princess and A Link Between Worlds Links are undeniably shorter than their Zeldas.

Wind Waker is kind of a weird one for me?? Tetra and Link don't have many shots of them standing together and I feel I'd have to open the game to get an accurate comparison (F to my WW copy in the attic). Originally I had stated Tetra was taller but they are actually very close. Tetra still looks taller by a tiny margin(?)

Ocarina Of Time is also difficult to pinpoint! Especially with Link's goofy ass triangle hair! Once again the margin is so slim it's hard to say, but looking at both Zelda and Sheik's models I would say Adult Link is ever so slightly taller.

Round of applause for Skyward Sword Link for being the only Link undeniably taller than his Zelda! Extremely funny that trend did not continue down the timeline.

Finally, Tears Of The Kingdom Link is not only shorter than his Zelda, but arguably has the most notable shortness in comparison to her (him and ALBW are joint contenders for that imo). Short king, manlet, little guy, etc.

#fires posts #ramblings #long post #loz #tloz #the legend of zelda #zelda #zelink #reference #height reference #I'm DONE #I'm FINISHED #No more short Link posts. The curse is lifted

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imaginesmai · 2 months

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Hiii I absolutely adore your fics! Especially the angst 😭😭

I was wondering if you could you write something super angsty about when Az comes back from the dungeons after torture and he just looks so... broken.

Y/n (his mate) first comforts him, ofc, but then she's so pissed at Rhys for making Azzy do this that she goes to pick a fight with him. Maybe even the others have to step in after the fight starts to get physical...

You asked for angst and you shall recieve! I kind of imagine Azriel being quite closed off about his missions, so I hope I made this right! Feel free to make more requests, and thank you for your kind words!

Warnings: mentions of violence against children and their death, kind of mean!Rhys but not cruel nor hateful, just a bit dumb. Not a hate Rhysand fic.

Breaking point - Azriel

The fire had already died down, and the dinner was cold. You had spent half of your afternoon cooking, and the other half choosing your best dress. The one that kept Azriel’s eyes captured all night, that seemed to be a magnet for his hands.

It was rare to have a night for the two of you, between his work and yours as an emissary. It was rare to have him accept that night without responsibilities, but lately you always found some excuse to be together. Not mated for too long, Azriel found himself drifting away from his work to your presence.

That wasn’t the case that night.

You stared at the last candle as the fire consumed it, minutes away from turning off. Azriel had closed his side of the bond early in the morning, before you started your shift, but you tugged at it once more. Briefly, softly, tired of hours of waiting with no result.

Part of you wondered if dating the shadowsinger would be always like that. You had never complained about him his work before you, but that night was starting to feel too long.

The brief rush of air from the door being opened turned the candle off, and you turned around with a scowl ready. Your high-heels laid forgotten next to the door, and that would have been enough other times to make Azriel feel bad.

But you watched as Azriel left his own shoes next to yours without saying anything, his shoulders tense and his wings dropped.

“Az” you stared, squinting your eyes to see in the darkness of the night. “Is that blood?”

“Not mine”

His answer was harsh, like the edges of his body. Once your eyesight accommodated to the dark, your discovered that there was indeed blood. Not only the smudge on his neck that you had seen, but also on his clothes. On his wings, dripping to the floor. Dried on his shoes, that had left a few prints on the wooden floor. His hands seemed too crusted with it.

You rose from the chair and he looked at you. His face already looked crestfallen, but after noticing your dress and the dinner table, slumped more. Azriel must have forgotten about the dinner, the date and everything else. You didn’t usually talk about the details of his job, yet you gathered it took a stroll on him most of the days.

Going against every fiber of your body that had been angry minutes ago, you walked towards him barefoot.

“I’m sorry” he sighed, turning around to hang his coat. “Lost track of the time down there. I… forgot”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t sure food was edible. It did smell weird” you tried to change the mood, but he didn’t look at you. “Everything okay? That’s a lot of blood”

“Not mine” he repeated. “It’s been… complicated. Do you mind if I take a shower? We can reheat dinner and eat in the couch. I’m sure we can savage something”

“Sure. There are some leftovers from yesterday”

Azriel was a tough male, and hated to talk about his feelings. You had learned that through hard years of friendship where he didn’t let on any feelings towards you, just cold indifference. Being mated changed some things, but other stayed the same.

It would have been a mistake to try and drag answer out of him, so you let him get away to the shower. He gave you a tense smile and walked out, ignoring the worried glance you casted.

Sounds of clothes hitting the floor filled the silent apartment. You doubted what would be best, if talk to him or leave him alone. Maybe he wanted to be alone, you tried, because he hadn’t asked for your presence. Shared showers were common in your household, but not that time. Biting your lip, you considered what to do until you heard the soft brush of his wings against the tiles of the bathroom.

Azriel wouldn’t be dragging his wings through the floor if he wasn’t devastated.

Fae hearing and smell weren’t a good ally to surprising people, so he didn’t say anything when you closed the bathroom door behind you and undressed. His bulky form took almost all the space, shadows gathering close to the sink and on every corner of the small bathroom.

They brushed against your feet when you pushed the curtain aside and squeezed yourself between him and the wall. There was no way of knowing if those were tears or drops of water on his cheeks, but he still smiled at you.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow” he tried, his voice sounding vacant. “I’m not feeling like it right now”

“It’s the first and last time you’ll hear me say this, but I’m not thinking about that right now. Do you want to talk about it?”

“About me not wanting – “

“About today, love. I’m right here if you want to talk” you wrapped your arms around his chest, staring up at him. “Maybe it’ll feel better if you let it out”

“Doubt it”

Azriel was a head taller than you, bigger in every aspect, but your eyes still bored into him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and his left wing twitched. It was unusual for you to have his naked form so close and do nothing about it, for him to have his favorite parts of you within reach and do nothing.

But that night you weren’t thinking about any of it as his breath shuddered for the first time since you had known him, as composure seemed to crack a little.

His face was pure anguish for a moment, all pain, devastation and sorrow. Every feeling he had comforted you through broke through his face at once. Drops of water fell from his soaked hair, that covered most of his forehead. There was no way of knowing if those were tears of just water, but there was a suspicious salty scent on the air.

“I want to be here for you, but you have to let me” you assured him, squeezing him tighter in your arms. A primal need was born in you to keep him whole, to be the glue to his broken pieces.

“It’s not something you want to hear”

“Nothing you can tell me will make me love you less, or see you different. I already love every part of you”

“Not this part” his voice sounded tight, desperate, as he made eye-contact with you.

“That’s for me to decide, Az, and I’ve already decided. What’s the matter?”

Azriel still seemed to doubt for a second. His hand searched for the back of your hair and he tugged at it aimlessly. He tangled his fingers, now clean of blood, between your soaked locks. As if the words he was about to say would break him in two, he was steadying himself against the wall with his free hand.

Maybe they were, you thought. Azriel never shared his feelings with you. He was a closed person that barely let you inside his heart as his own mate, but you were okay with that. You would give him time, every minute and second he needed, until he was comfortable with giving you his heart.

That moment seemed important enough to deserve a short pause. Azriel’s throat worked around the words, his heart speeding.

“There is a man, in the mountains. He owns a cabin deep in the forest, at least ten miles away from the nearest civilization post. Rhysand has been keeping tabs on him for a while, for some… suspicious activities”

“What activities?”

“Children. Going missing” he explained briefly, avoiding the further explanation. Him sharing something about his life outside you and your family was enough though. “It’s been going on for a while. Devlon’s daughter was between the missing ones, so the camp lord finally demanded something to be done about it”

“And you were the one to do it”

You kept your annoyance to yourself, your thoughts about Rhysand using your mate as his personal guard dog. You might love Rhysand as your High Lord and friend, but the things he made Azriel do were enough to keep your distance from him sometimes.

That time, you braced yourself for Azriel’s information and tried to be as open as possible.

“Yeah”

Azriel took another pause, and that time you were sure those were tears filling his eyes. For any answer, you leaned a bit forward and got on your tiptoes to press your lips to his jaw. It was a soft, brief kiss against his stubble that had him shuddering once more. His head fell even lower after that.

“So that’s where you’ve been all afternoon. That’s fine, no different from any other day” you contemplated when he didn’t continue. “What really happen, Az?”

“You don’t want to know”

He made his intention, his thoughts, clear for a second time. Yet there was a hidden urge on his voice that pressed you to keep asking. The bond was still closed off, but through the cracks of his part, you could feel the need to share it. It was clear that he didn’t want you to be the person to share it with, and you would have normally respected his choice.

But there were tears on his eyes, actual tears on your precious mate’s eyes that were shattering your own heart into pieces. Your strong, brave shadowsinger was breaking in that tiny shower and you were dying to be there for him.

“Azriel”

You just needed his name. It was like a prayer, like an order or a command, like a petition. He used to tell you that you saying his name was enough to put him to his knees, that buckled at the sound. Azriel’s face broke into a grimace and he suck a breath before he finally broke down.

“He kept those children in cells in his own basement. They were so skinny, so small, he wasn’t feeding them” Azriel’s breath sped up, as his words stumbled down his throat. He broke eye-contact and stared at a spot in your collarbone. “I couldn’t tell one apart from another, because he heard I was coming and burned them all down. There was no one left alive”

It took you a moment to separate the horror of the story of his own horror. The one that marked his hands that held you so lovingly, that made you coffee each morning and ticked you in the early mornings. His stepbrothers had burned his hands down, and since then, Azriel hadn’t been near an uncontrolled fire.

“I tried to save them, so save any of them. But they were all ashes”

When Azriel leaned down so he could rest his head against your shoulder, you only held him tighter. When the water turned cold and he started shivering, you just turned it off in silence and guided him to bed.

You dried him with soft touches, stopping to touch every inch of his scarred hands. Helped him get into comfortable clothes and laid with him in silence, letting him knowing you weren’t going anywhere – at least yet. You stared at him with a small smile until his eyes closed and his body relaxed, his breathing finally becoming even.

For good measure, you brushed his hair out of his face. There was no need for him to happen what had happened next. The blood on his clothes, the stains on the wooden floor. You were sure there were specks of blood in his wings, where he couldn’t reach.

Nothing Azriel told you would drag you away from him. He could become a monster and you would destroy the world with him. But that night, after hours of staying awake just staring at him safe from the horrors of the world, you got up and put back your clothes.

Then, you winnowed away.

Rhysand had been finishing reports when he noticed the breach in his home. Cassian was sitting on the couch, half-asleep with un-done reports on his own desks.

He had been waiting for Azriel’s that night, but he guessed he would receive it the next morning. When he noticed the breach, he guessed it was his spymaster bringing back information from his latest task.

Rhysand didn’t expect you appearing out of thin air on his office, with a murderous look on your face. He raised his brows lightly, and got up from his chair. He didn’t miss the way you were clenching your fists, so he decided not to cross the barrier between you and him.

“Y/N” he called your name carefully. “It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Azriel just came home. Destroyed. And I’m supposed to be asleep?”

“What happened?”

The mean, sarcastic laugh you barked at his question wasn’t the ‘you’ Rhysand knew. The kind emissary that settled political relationships between courts, that lighted up his brother’s darkness. You snorted again when you looked at his expecting face.

“You mean besides completing yet another cruel mission for you, one he was clearly too attached to? Why do you always send him for the worse ones? What makes your sanity more worthy than his?” you extended an arm and pointed vaguely around the room. “You’ve been here, sitting so comfortably, while my mate was getting his hands dirty on your name. And you dare to ask about – “

“I don’t sit here comfortably, I don’t value my sanity over his. Where is this coming from?”

It wasn’t the first time you had that argument, more common during the last few years. Even when Azriel was just your friend, you had always spoken against his role in Rhysand’s court. You had seen the bags under his eyes, the weight of his actions that he didn’t share with his family.

Cassian perked up from his spot at your argument and raised voices, and noticed the hostile atmosphere immediately. It was hard not to, when your own power was making the lights tremble and your eyes spark.

“Because you are draining him! He’s not a weapon you can yield against your court, he’s part of your family and your brother. And you’re gonna end up hurting him”

“You’re not the person to talk about my court or how I handle those matters. You’re not High Lord and certainly not around enough to question my rulership”

“I am his mate, the one who picks up the pieces. What you do with him isn’t family or brotherhood, is extortion and manipulation” you busted out, taking a step closer. “You saved him, good for you! That was centuries ago! And now he feels like he owns you his life and you just throw him around!”

“Careful there, Y/N. I don’t appreciate how you’re talking right now” the high lord growled under his breath, his own power waking up.

“We should talk about this in the morning”

Cassian tried to interfere, but you didn’t pay attention to him when Rhysand stepped away from the table and towards you. It wasn’t your friend who stood before you, the man you had laughed with and worked for during many years. It was the responsible of your mate’s pain and all you saw was read and hate and Azriel’s first tear rolling down.

You bared your teeth at him like a wild animal, you guessed. You were coming at him with everything you had kept through the years, and maybe it was rushed and mean, but it wasn’t unfair.

“Azriel is my brother, and he’s a valuable resource for our court that I carefully blade against – “

Rhysand’s words died down when your fist collided with the side of his mouth. He stumbled against the table, a pen rolling off. Cassian finally rose from his seat and opened his mouth to warm Rhysand, to stop you or to do something. But he didn’t move as your hand lowered again against your High Lord. You pushed him away from you, and any answer or complain Rhysand had died down when he finally focused on your face.

There were tear tracks down cheeks, and you didn’t look angry anymore. You looked desperate, broken, so sad that it robbed Rhysand’s breath.

He kept still as you pushed him once more, now his body rigid against your touch. You chocked on a sob when he didn’t flinch, your fist hitting the side of his chest. He didn’t stop you when you kept hitting him, pushing him, as you cried down every truth in that room.

You’re hurting my mate

You’re going to kill my mate

Please just leave him alone

It was your begging that made him realize that his mistakes. The sorrows that you poured in them that he saw himself in, when Feyre was hurt. It made him wonder what kind of brother he was for driving Azriel’s mate to that state.

Rhysand took everything you gave him and ordered Cassian with a silent look to leave. The male obeyed with a sharp look, disappearing minutes before your knees finally gave out and you crumbled after a weak punch. You hid your face in your hands as Rhysand tried to keep you straight. Your body shook with sobs and you didn’t have it in you to feel bad when shadows caressed your shoulders as Azriel winnowed behind you.

Your mate gently grabbed you in his arms and helped you get up. Not once he looked at Rhysand, not once he acknowledged his brother’s desperate tries to meet his eyes and speak into his mind. Azriel just held you together as he winnowed back to your bed, where he had noticed you had left him to do what he was too afraid to say himself.

“Just let him be happy” you whined one last time as shadows covered you both. His arms pulled you farther against his embrace. “You fucking prick, let me be happy”

Rhysand watched you two disappear without catching his brother’s eyes once. Azriel only looked at you with a mix of adoration and gratitude, and kept Rhysand off his mind. The High Lord stared at the empty spot you had left for a while, caressing his already bruised jaw.

Then, he fell to his chair and let the doubts and mistakes crowd his mind.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

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monzabee · 1 year

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two sides of the same coin - mv1

masterlist

Summary: The one where you try to convince yourself that you’re not falling for your teammate, but can’t help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: cursing, mommy issues (same), daddy issues, ISSUES OKAY, ISSUES, EVERYBODY HAS ISSUES, J*s Verstappen (yikes), allusions to eating disorders, a singular mention of divorce babe divorce, angst (why am i writing so much angst), daniel ricciardo being the best older grid-brother there is, slight frenemies to lovers if your squint, i don’t really like horner but he’s like the only father figure max ever had so he’s a good guy in this one.

Request: “teammates to lovers with max please!❣️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i did NOT expect to get this out today, but there you go! it was so much fun to write and honestly, i might slowly becoming a max girl (sorry carlos). anyway, please check the warning tags if you haven’t already, because there might be some possibly triggering content. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

2018

“Do you have to leave?” You ask the Australian in front of you who, coincidentally, is kneeled on the floor and in the middle of packing his bag. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, stay?”

“Come on, cheer up.” He says, “You’re supposed to be happy that I’m changing teams, Y/N.”

You scoff, dropping yourself to lay down and bending your knees to rest your feet on the couch. “I don’t have to be happy about anything.” You throw the tennis ball in your hand towards the wall, catching it and doing it all over again in a pattern in which you know is going to make Daniel mad.

“Any other potential driver would be happy about this, Horner already told you the seat would be yours. So, there is no reason why you shouldn’t feel happy about this.”

“Well, I still don’t.” You huff, turning your head towards the man jokingly glaring at you.

He laughs, gives you a look and returns to his task while shaking his head slightly. “You’re a very weird girl, Y/N.”

“Wow, Daniel. That’s brand-new information.” A third voice interrupts your discussion from the door. It’s Max leaning against the frame with his arms crossed across his chest. You halt the movement of your hands to send him a scathing look.

You roll your eyes, mumbling something along the lines of “No one asked you,” under your breath.

“Play nice, Max Emilian.” Daniel mumbles, making the Dutch groan and you laugh. “Fuck, how did I pack this in the first place?”

“You wouldn’t have this issue if you didn’t get too comfortable in your driver’s room, Danny.” You offer, raising yourself on your elbows to get a better look at the already bursting luggage. “You still have a ton of stuff at the hotel, too.”

“Maybe you should just stop living like a slob.” Max offers this time, making both you and Daniel to glare at him. “Jesus, tough room.”

“You should become a comedian,” you tell him with a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Max Emilian.”

He straightens his posture quickly, “You know what, Y/N–”

“Calm down, children.” Daniel sighs and giving you both the look. “You two need to get along now that I’m not going to be there to stop some kind of childish feud–”

“It’s not childish–” You argue at the same time Max complains, “She pushed me off the track!”

You furiously get up from your place on the couch and walk towards him with an accusatory finger extended towards him. “It wasn’t me, you dickhead, it was Charles! And it was an accident!”

“I don’t care,” He contends, “You were helping him push me off the track.” He shakes his head while mumbling, “Incident, inchident, as if I’m stupid.”

“Why would I help him when I was racing against both of you, Max?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, a devilish smirk on his lips. “Maybe you had a crush on him.”

“I- I did not!” Your shout is high pitched, you gasp and start to follow him with enraged steps when he walks out of the room. “You get back right here, Max, you insufferable twat!”

Daniel is left with an empty room and a luggage which is about to explode. “They’ll be fine,” he announces, mostly to himself but also at the poor intern who watches the corridor you’re both walking down in while continue your very loud fight. “Do you think you can get me another luggage?”

2019

It’s not like you hate Max, you don’t hate him at all. In fact, he’s gone out of his way to make you feel comfortable from your change in role from a reserve driver to the second driver at Red Bull. Looking back, you can now say that everything happened so quickly. One day, you were the reserve driver for Aston Martin Red Bull Formula One team, and the next day, Christian Horner invited you to his office to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. Having a reserve driver who was a woman had already had the team under a large microscope – some calling it a step in the right direction whilst others arguing that it was nothing more than a PR move to gain sympathy. You tried telling your team principle your concerns about the media but he assured you that all will be dealt with and all you would need to do is drive a good race.

So, you left the office with a renewed, and rewritten, contract and never looked back. After that, it was a whirlwind of media duties (both due to your ‘promotion’ and Daniel’s departure), photoshoots, and much more. Your trusted Apple Watch was replaced with a Tag Heuer one, which left you terrified of losing it. But Horner assured you that they’d deal with it – “Should you ever lose the watch, but try not to because it costs a lot of money, okay?” Max was with you in every step of the way, even though his father clearly unapproved of your pseudo-friendship. You sometimes think the only reason the two of you ever became friends is due to the fact that it was forced upon you due to you being teammates, but Max proves this to be wrong every time he brings you coffee in morning briefings because; “I don’t want for them to repeat it and extend the meeting because you’re sleepy,” or when he checks up on you before a race in a particular track he knows you’re anxious about; “Just making sure you’re calmed down so you don’t accidentally hit me,” or how he comforts you after every fight you have with your mother.

Which brings us to another topic – your mother. You suppose what J.D Salinger said was true – Mothers are all slightly insane. And you are allowed to say that, because yours takes the term ‘dance mom’ to a whole other level. You thought since Daniel convinced your mother that he’d take care of you, she’d stay away, but she became very interested in your career as a racing driver. You’d hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but your dreams are crushed like your car when she shows up in your first race. You two have a very public fight, which Christian has to break up for both of your sakes, leaving you to lock yourself in your driver’s room for the remainder of the race. It’s only when your door is knocked you realise the race is over. You’re about to yell back against the persistent knocks that you want to be left alone when you hear his voice.

You get up and open to door to let Max in, only to find yourself crashing in his arms on the couch, sobbing through his calming words. “It’s going to be fine,” he says and somehow you realise maybe the two of you aren’t so different.

2020

Between the pandemic and the new regulations, the 2020 season rocks your world – in a totally not cool way. The paddock buzzes with the health restrictions, everyone wanting to keep their drivers and staff safe. The stress from the unknown which comes from the fact that you’re in a freaking pandemic and that fact that your mother and Helmut Marko is enough to keep you on the edge throughout the whole season. The fights with your mother now more prominent than ever, you’re fairly sure that the poor people who are supposed to be doing their jobs can’t even do that because the fight seems to continue wherever you go. One day it’s about the fact that you couldn’t get a podium, the next time it’s because of the fact that you were third, you didn’t push enough, you pushed too hard, you didn’t use enough throttle, and the list goes on. You can feel the light in you fading with every fight, and the criticising jabs being masked as ‘little comments’, you’re just glad that you’re getting through the season without wanting to explode.

It's between practice sessions when you sit down for lunch with your mother. You both order your food – her a salad, and you a sandwich. After the waiter leaves, your mother lets out an unsatisfied hum.

“What’s wrong, mom?” You ask, trying to keep your voice and facial expression calm.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you ate something healthier?” She asks, her voice condescending in every way you absolutely hate. “It would save your engineers a whole lot of work.”

You sigh, turning your attention to your phone in your hands to appear busy. “The world isn’t going to end if I eat two slices of bread for lunch, mom.” You mumble.

“It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t maintain healthier habits, I heard of this new diet–”

“I think she said she’d prefer the sandwich, Ms. Y/LN.” A voice interrupts, the one which you’ve become accustomed with. When you raise your head up, Max meets your eyes with an expectant look. “I’m sorry to keep your lunch short, but Christian said he wanted to meet us.”

And with that, he quickly whisks you away from your mother. You’re confused when he leads you to his driver’s room instead of Christian’s office. You look at him with raised eyebrows, “I thought we were meeting Christian.”

“Well, I might’ve lied.” He shrugs. Then, he moves towards the serving plate on the little table and motions you to sit. You’re even more surprised to find the sandwich you’ve ordered on the plate. He must’ve anticipated this because he explains it as he offers you the plate. “I was sitting a few tables over and heard you order it, now eat.”

“Thanks, Max.” You whisper with a breathy voice.

“It’s going to be fine.” He whispers back, making sure you eat every bite.

2021

Everything is much more tense this season. Although the go through the races is podium finishes and points (and even a few wins), you realise Max is more on edge than you are. This also puts you in a slight state of panic, as he’s been the one better at keeping the cool between the two of you, but you manage to put your own insecurities aside to help your friend who’s done the same for you for the past two years. It starts with encouraging words and continues with comforting touches which evolve into hands lingering around after hugs. It becomes stolen looks across the rooms or group interviews where they separated the two of you. It later becomes holding each other’s hands under the tables during function and award shows and even holding each other in the comfort of your respective driver’s or hotel rooms.

Max brings home a win in Monaco, while you steal the first place from Seb in Azerbaijan. He’s not bitter about it, in fact he congratulates you and doses you in so much champagne you have to take two showers to get the stickiness off your hair when you get back to your hotel room. While the season seems to be going for you from the race perspective, you realise Max is starting to have more problems with his father. You try your best when it comes to reassuring him, but both you and Max realise that you’re more open to being comforted than him. So, you provide the silence he craves and he eventually lets you know that he is ready for your cuddles. It’s a sad but a good routine.

There’s one incident with an interview during the season. The tensions are high and people are starting to question your ability as a driver more now that you are bringing home podiums and wins. They are sceptical about the fact that you are a woman and question your every move and achievement – but you don’t mind it, you’re doing it for the little girls everywhere who watch you and hope to achieve the same things as you one day.

An interviewer asks, “Isn’t it hard to focus on your task when you’re surrounded with nineteen other drivers who happen to be all men?”

You’re still tired from the previous race and not getting a full night’s sleep the night before, that it takes a while for you to comprehend the question. Thankfully, Daniel and Seb are there to defend you alongside Max. You turn your focus to the interviewer who asked the question as their protests die down. “Well,” you start with a shaky laugh, “I know the past year has messed up us all, but I’m not particularly into anything involving masks or stuff that conceal the face.” There is a nervous laughter around the room and the interviewer is not pleased with your answer. “Shall we continue?” You ask in the sweetest voice you can muster. When you look at Daniel and Max, both of them grin at you while giving you a supportive thumbs-up.

You find yourself in his hotel room in Austin, a couple weeks after the race in Turkey. His eyes are focused on the portable screen as he plays FIFA. You’ve realised it’s a pre-race routine for him – not that you understand, his eyes must be tired after looking at the screen for too long. He asks you if you want to play and you agree, albeit timidly. He lets you play a few rounds after taking over and playing for fourteen hours straight to find himself ranking 21 worldwide.

“You can always join an esports team after this.” You joke, your head is on the back of the couch as you look up at him. He laughs, agreeing you without any objection.

“Maybe I should.”

“What, you’re not going to continue racing until you are an old prune?” You ask.

His face contorts. “No, that’s not the goal, schatje.”

“Then tell me,” You move your hands under your chin to appear more interested despite the sleep in your eyes. “what is the goal?”

“To prove a point, and then I’m free.” He replies, mimicking your earlier pose.

“You’re going to be fine, Max.” You speak in a soft voice; your touch is soft on his cheek when you bring one of your hands to caress the skin. “You’re going to become the champion this year.”

“How do you know?” Max asks, you can tell it is not to be sceptical, but it is in genuine curiosity.

“Female intuition.”

He lets out a big laugh, grabbing your wrist gently and pressing a kiss on the tips of your fingers. “Come on, we have to sleep before tomorrow. He have a race to win.”

He wins, by the way – the race in Austin. And then, he goes on to win the 2021 World Championship. There are tears in your eyes as you congratulate him on the team radios, and after you get out of your car. He brings you on the podium and kisses you in front of the whole world. You realise that he was right all those times after all, everything is going to be fine.

2022

Both of you are in a bubble when you get to the 2022 season. He kisses you before every race, you do the same. You wish each other luck and proceed to race on the track the best you can. You find each other after every race, mostly covered in champagne, and kiss again. Both of your parents were opposed to your relationship at first – your mother and his father. It’s funny to think that now, because he’s introduced you to his mother and you introduced him to your dad, and as far as their approval goes, the love extends both ways. You’ve told your mother to stop coming to races, presenting a clear argument without raising your voice once, which leaves her no choice to agree to your wishes. It was scary to even consider doing it, but the proud look on Max’s face is enough for you to do it all again.

You win the race in Monaco this year. Max is P3, but he looks just as happy as you when you direct your bottle of champagne towards him. Although Carlos is there with you on the podium, in that moment, it feels like the world consists of only the two of you. You go to celebrate with the team, of course. Christian pushing you into the pool and you pulling Max, and consequently him, alongside you. Someone captures the moment and you post it to your social media. Daniel makes sure everyone knows that he approves.

The fight is still on, as Lewis would say. You know both him and Max are still fighting for the title. No one expected you to join the two of them in their fight for the title. The first few races are hard at the start of the season, but you outrace most of your friends on the track after your win in Monaco. By the time you get to Abu Dhabi for the season’s last race, you’re a shaky mess. He takes you into his arms and whispers affirming promises into your ear.

“You’re going to become the world champion,” He announces to you. “I know you’re going to do it.”

Your voice comes out creaking as you question, “How do you know?”

There is a warm smile on his lips as he answers, “Female intuition.”

You both get ready to race before you could answer because of the knock on the door.

“YOU DID IT, Y/N, YOU ARE THE FIRST FEMALE WORLD CHAMPION IN THE HISTORY OF FORMULA ONE!” Horner shouts through your radio.

You’re still shaking by the time you park your car, and can’t get out even when your team huddles around you to celebrate. It takes a while to take it all in, but as you stand on the podium as the reigning champion with the man you love, nothing else matters to you in the world. You look around to see the smile on people’s faces, people shouting and cheering for you, and you even see your father who holds a banner with one of his hands as his other arm is wrapped around your team principal. It’s a bittersweet feeling, winning the same season one of your best friends announce that he is going to become a reserve driver. But Daniel is right there with your dad and Christian, screaming your name with pride. After your national anthem is played and you pop the champagne, you’re trying to get your eyes dry from all the tears as Max suddenly falls to his knees. You kneel with him with panic, of course, thinking that there might be something wrong with his heartbeat or something worse. But right as you’re about to call for help he brings something from his back towards you, opening the small box while maintaining his eye contact with you. There is an uproar of cheers around you, but it doesn’t matter. As far as you’re concerned, there’s only Max and you – and you and Max.

“Marry me, liefje.” He says.

You nod your head, “Yes.”

He gathers you up in his arms after he puts the ring on your finger. You realise that he was right from the beginning, everything is more than fine.

2023

“You need to stop doing this to yourself.” You announce as you watch Daniel struggle with his overflowing luggage – again. “You’re not even driving this season.”

“It’s not my fault, I can’t not take what the fans give me.” He tries to defend himself; he points to the suitcase with frustration. “Can you help me, please?”

“Only because I am in a good mood.” You announce as you kneel beside him and the two of you try closing the monstrosity in front of you.

You know Max is there before he announces his arrival. “Putting my wife to work, Daniel?” He asks. He comes to kneel with the two of you helping you close the luggage up. Then, he kisses you softly on your lips as he mumbles, “Hello, Mrs. Verstappen.”

“Hello, Mr. Verstappen.” You giggle.

“God, you guys are insufferable.” Daniel pretends to gag, receiving glares from the both of you. “Remember when you guys hated each other? Yeah, I miss those days.”

“We never hated each other.” Max shrugs.

“Yeah,” You seem to agree with your husband. “It was just an inchident of misunderstanding.”

“I better be your future kids’ godfather!” He yells behind you as you start to leave (your) driver’s room. “Children, bloody children.” He mumbles to himself, he waves his arms for help when he spots one of the interns, “Hey, do you think you can get me another luggage?”

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