#i'm so concerned with both will and max next season

[theoriginalsapphic]

Let me steal this moment from you now: Max, Will, Vecna and memories

This is a theory loosely based on BirthdayGate and me rewatching The Hunger Games due to its ongoing reinassance on tiktok and not being able to sleep at three in the morning.

BirthdayGate is the theory that Vecna has been manipulating Will’s memories to basically isolate him from others and making him an easier target (this is an oversimplification of the theory and I may have gotten some things wrong, so keep that in mind).

In the third and final book of the trilogy, Mockingjay, Peeta is held captive by President Snow and used against Katniss. During his captivity, he was tortured, beaten, and hijacked using tracker jacker venom to distort his memories of Katniss until he believed she was a mutt trying to kill him. Essentially, they turned him into a weapon.

Both BirthdayGate and Peeta’s plot in Mockingjay have one thing in common: mind control through brainwashing and psychological torture, which, also happens to be one of the main objectives of MKUltra, a non-fictional illegal human-experimentation program that was developed and overtaken by the CIA between 1953 and 1973, and that in the show is represented through Dr. Brenner and the Hawkins laboratory.

Stay with me; I swear I’m going somewhere.

Vecna messing with someone’s memories wouldn’t be a new thing. In fact, this concept has already been introduced in the fourth season, heavily foreshadowed by this particular song.

Right before the battle against Vecna, Max has the theory that, because she managed to escape through remembering the people that she loves, the best place to hide from Vecna would be to hide in her happiest memory.

Solid theory, all things considered. That is something that the characters got right; Vecna feeds of the darkness inside people (their fears, their traumas, and their guilt), so it would be logical to hide somewhere that represents the complete opposite of his source of power: their light, their strength, etc.

However, the characters underestimated how powerful Vecna truly is, and how capable he is of entering and messing with people’s minds. Max believed that hiding in a happy memory would save her because it did the first time, but he still managed to find her the second time around.

So, how does what happened to Max in season 4 relates to Will and Vecna?

Well, for starters, I just demonstrated why Vecna ruining someone’s happiest memories wouldn’t be a new concept at all.

Something that has been mentioned a couple of times it’s how little Will mentions what happened to him during that week he spent in the Upside Down. As a matter of fact, we know very little of what happened to him during that week, and if anything, what little have we learned about has just provoked more questions (way too many to write them in this post).

However, something that I don’t see mentioned as frequently it’s that we don’t really know much about what Will went through with Lonnie, except through third-party recounts, like Joyce telling Hopper Lonnie used to call Will slurs, or Jonathan remembering the first time he showed him The Clash after Lonnie failed to pick him up for a baseball game.

This is even more peculiar when considering that all the other characters that have experienced abuse in the show have been seen interacting with their abuser and, more or less, react to their actions (Joyce and Lonnie, Jonathan and Lonnie, Billy and Neil, Max and Billy, El and Brenner).

But the point is, we have never seen Will interact with Lonnie or even mention Lonnie. The only time Will mentions his dad is in a flashback that is remembered by Jonathan (who, unlike Will, has named Lonnie several times).

Just like with his trauma with the Upside Down, we don’t know much about his trauma with his dad.

In a regular world, with non-supernatural interference, this could be a completely expected response to trauma:

"Dissociative amnesia occurs when a person blocks out certain events, often associated with stress or trauma, leaving the person unable to remember important personal information." "According to the American Psychiatric Association (APA), dissociative amnesia often occurs due to traumatic or stressful events, such as childhood trauma, abuse, and neglect. Dissociative amnesia can also stem from issues relating to personal identity and past experiences." "This forgetting may be limited to certain specific areas (thematic) or may include much of your life history and/or identity (general)."

So, what if Vecna’s intention is to manipulate Will’s happy memories so those memories can’t save them the way they saved him back in season 2? Just like Vecna did the second time he faced Max.

In fact, what happens if these memories have been manipulated so they are no longer happy and instead bring him pain and anguish? What if the only memories that remain untouched inside his mind are the ones he wishes he could forget, the ones that were once repressed, so his own mind can be used against him? Just like Peeta Mellark in Mockingjay.

"Occasionally, a person may be able to suddenly recall these traumatic or abusive events, also known as recovered memories. Alternatively, a person may have false memories of a situation, or inaccurate memories that can be influenced by others or created to fill in gaps. Unfortunately, because a person may genuinely believe that these memories are accurate, it can be challenging to differentiate them from reality."

If what saved Max the first time she faced Vecna were happy memories…

Coincidentally, Will is the only party member that doesn't appear in Max's memories while the lyrics 'Let me steal this moment from you now' are being sung.

...triggered by a song she loves...

…then what happens when that person has no happy memories left to grasp on? What happens when those memories that formed the individual are gone, and the person loses what made their identity? If you lose everything that makes you, you, then who are you anymore? What happens when there is no light to escape to anymore?

This started as a theory about Will but now I’m concerned what will happen with Max when she wakes up.

[bunnys-kisses]

mille-fuelle (idk how the fuck to spell it) with a side of vodka shot pls! make it verstappen pls!

the bakery menu!

there is still tons of sweet treats on the menu at the bakery! submit your own order!

mill-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + vodka shot (rough sex) served to you by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rough sex, praise kink, (loosely) translated dutch, handcuffs/bondage, (low) doggy style, (slight) dom/sub

the off season was tiring. despite it being the off season. most used it as a chance to catch up on much needed sleep or go on a vacation. some even just laid in bed for the first week of the off-season to just relax.

you and max had different plans.

after the first week of the off season, max had turned of his phone and put it on the dining table, to be left there for a day or two. you did the same, telling your friends and family that you and max were going on a boat trip for a few days.

you didn't want anyone to worry, especially when you knew that you'd be limping by the end of your little escapade. sparse visits over the year have left you both painfully pent up, it felt like over the season the only time you two saw one another was for cute photo-ops, there was very little room for intimacy between your career and his. so the off-season, nothing else mattered except for scratching that itch.

max made sure that you got a meal in you, he wasn't going to neglect your needs because he needed to get his cock wet. he even took the lead and made you breakfast (he really did miss you). While the eggs were perfect, the bacon was a little more crispy than you liked it.

"it's amazing." you giggled as you took another bite. max lingered against you like a shadow, his arm slung around you as he kissed at your neck a little. you turned your head to look at him and he kissed you on the lips.

"i'm excited."

you reached to him and cupped his face, then looked into his blue eyes, "well, hold your horses, i have a surprise for you." and then let go of him so you could quickly finish.

you didn't see max's curious expression at the surprise you had for him. he still followed you while you cleaned up, those large hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. you could feel his clothed erection up against your backside,

"so what's the surprise?" he asked as he held you as you put the plate in the drying rack.

you looked over your shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, then said, "surprise, verstappen." once you were done cleaning up, he followed you into the bedroom.

you apologized to the cats as you closed the door to the room. you could tell that max was getting antsy, why wouldn't he be? he had another stellar season but at the cost of being away from his woman.

"mooi meisje, waarom laat je me wachten?" he asked softly as he sat on the bed you two shared. his cock was pressed against the front of his loose shorts.

you turned away from him and went to your underwear drawer, as you dug around in it you responded, "omdat sommige verrassingen de moeite waard zijn om geheim te houden."

he sighed through his nose, his cock throbbed in his pants. dutch may not be the most sensual language, but he cursed the day that he decided to painstakingly teach you the language. it was almost like second nature to you, and it made his heart beat faster. he leaned back on his hands and watched you pull out a pair of Velcro wrist restraints.

using handcuffs seemed a little cliche, and the idea of losing the key and having to figure out how to get max out of them wasn't something you were interested in. they were softer around the wrists and easier to get out of.

"liefde?" he asked with a bit of concern.

you approached him and placed them in his lap, "if you don't want to try it, then say it. if you want to, tell me." you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

his face felt hot as he said, "i'm guessing you're wearing them?"

you smiled, "next time you can wear them." and could feel your boyfriend's burning gaze as you got out of your sleeping clothes. which was honestly just a ratty red bull t-shirt and slightly too big sleeping shorts. your sports bra and panties were off as well and when you looked at max once more, he had his shirt off and his cock in his hand. his shorts were pushed down and his gaze was heavy.

"you look good." he said, his words heavy on his tongue.

you came of and straddled his waist for a moment, his cock brushed against your pussy but you never sank down on it. you could see his jaw tense.

you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tender kiss. you felt his hands on your hips, he was threatening to pull you right down on his cock. the kiss quickly parted and you got up from his lap and onto the bed. max was close to you once more with teh cuffs in hand.

"i guess we need a safe word."

you were already one step ahead, "red bull."

he got you onto your hands and knees on the bed and slowly got your arms behind your back. it was then secured by the cuffs. max could've lost it in that moment, the site of you was erotic. his naked girlfriend with her arms tied behind her back. he couldn't wait any longer, it was driving him up the wall.

he got his shorts full off and his hand on your hip. it wasn't hard for him to sink his entire length into your aching cunt. he held the chain that connected both of the cuffs to the center of your back, you weren't going anywhere.

you groaned when you felt his cock deep in your cunt, the stretch was amazing. while it left you a little tender for days after, it was the type of ache that stirred your stomach.

the sex was rough, there was little tenderness. and max at least tried to be romantic when he pleasured you, but this carnal need was driving both of you. your heart thumped in your chest, the rush of pleasure made your head throb.

his pace was quick and feral, his grip was tight on you. he wanted to make sure you didn't go slipping away. as if you ever would. he ran his fingers through his hair while he still held you down. he could feel the sweat on his body begin to form as the bedroom became hotter.

the morning light shined through the open window as the two of you fucked with a hot passion. it felt like striking hot iron with the sparks that scattered as a result.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl." he panted heavily in your ear as he kissed your temple. you moaned in response and he pressed his nose into your hairline for a moment as he had you practically bouncing on his cock.

you whined, "shit, max, ah!" each thrust felt like a short circuit to your brain. his words were filthy, his voice was hot and low. you could feel him rearrange your guts.

the bed creaked against the wall and you felt the air leave your lungs. sometimes it drove you crazy how intensely max's cock made you feel. before sex was just a fun past time with a partner, but with max is made you ache inside and out.

he rutted up into you, his cock gave a small twitch inside of you. he could hear you sweet little pants and moans into the covers. you looked like a fucking dream, his beautiful girl.

"you're so good for me, my love." he groaned, "you feel so fucking tight around me and i don't know what to do with myself. you drive me mad. i want you all the time." he panted heavily, "it was all i could think of during the races, your tight pussy around my cock. i always wondered if i could get you to fit in the car with me, bounce you on the my cock while the engine rumbled. you'd like that, wouldn't you, slet."

you swallowed, while the idea was probably unrealistic, the thought of it was rather erotic. the almost claustrophobia of being so close to him in a tight space.

you didn't have to respond for him to say, 'i know you'd hate it, right? because you're my good right, correct?"

you nodded and moaned a little louder as you felt the thrill of lust climb through your body. you squirmed under the restraints, it was a little bit of tension on your shoulders but it did make you core ache. you panted dumbly against the covers as he fucked you with a heavy heat.

"pretty fucking little thing." he growled as he pushed your top half further into the soft mattress. the angle gave him the best place to cram his heavy cock into your sweet cunt.

you felt the moans fold off your tongue as you felt the pleasure capture you whole and climax crashed down on you. it felt like your earth was shattered when it grabbed hold. you whined, "holy shit, max."

he chuckled and felt the wetness between your legs only grow more, he doubled down his thrusts and left you totally pinned under him. he rutted into you like an animal in heat, even as your pathetic little moans rang in his ear.

"honey, ah. that's a good girl. fuck you're mine." he groaned as he bottomed out into you. his cock nudged against your cervix and spat cum against it. while made your back arch.

"fuck." you panted.

he pulled out and quickly, without much through took off the cuffs. he took you in his arms and laid down beside you, spooning you. his larges hands massaged your wrists. even though they didn't hurt.

he peppered the back of your neck with kisses. so loving, so kind despite how rough he was moments earlier. max worshiped you, praised you like the sun.

"my beautiful girl." he sighed contently.

"the cuffs felt good." you responded, your legs tangled in his.

he kissed under your ear and said quietly in your ear, "maybe next time i need to tie you up fully." he chuckled a little as he held you in his arms.

it was good to be home. <3

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Dad

Requested: yes

Prompt: Dad!Max

Warnings: nope

Under the intense buzz of the Formula 1 paddock, Max Verstappen navigated through the sea of people, balancing his son, Luuk, in one arm and holding hands with his girlfriend, Yn, with the other as the rhythmic hum of the car engines providing a lullaby. The Red Bull Racing garage welcomed them with the familiar hum of activity as mechanics fine-tuned the car for the upcoming race weekend.

Max, flashing a quick smile, gestured toward the car. "What do you think, Luuk?" Y/n chuckled. "Future World Champion, just like his old man." Max scoffed. "I'm not old." Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe he'll be an even better driver than you, Max." Max feigned offense. "Hey now, no one can beat me." He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Luuk's forehead. "You can try though." Y/n cackled. "Are you challenging a one month old? Max I thought you were better than that." Max pressed a kiss onto Y/n's cheek. "Don't miss me too much." He smiled. "I have company this time." She replied.

As Max prepared for his next stint on the track, Y/n settled in the garage, surrounded by the Red Bull crew. She exchanged smiles with them, who couldn't help but glance at the adorable scene of Max as a doting father, always checking in on Y/n and Luuk. During a break between sessions, Max hurried over to the garage, a genuine excitement in his eyes. "How's my little champ doing?" he cooed, reaching for Luuk. Y/n handed over their son. "He's been keeping an eye on your lap times, hasn't he?" She cooed. "He reckons he'll beat your times in 20 years. Max chuckled, cradling Luuk in his arms. "Starting him young, you know? Gotta teach him about speed and precision." During practice sessions, Max's focus was generally unwavering. However, he'd rush to the garage to check on baby Luuk, making sure he was comfortable and content.

"Is his diaper alright? Is he okay with the sound?" Max asked. "Looks like someone is more concerned about diaper changes than tire changes." Y/n teased. "Luuk's my good luck charm. Can't have him upset during the race weekend, can we?" He smiled back. The crew members shared knowing glances, appreciating the sight of Max Verstappen, renowned for his fearless driving, melting into something so very different.

As Sunday came around and the race has approached, he found himself in P1. He had never wanted a win more in his entire life. His girlfriend was here and so was his son; he could not mess this up. Max took a moment to share a quiet conversation with Y/n on the track. "I'm going to win it." He said, gently cradling Luuk in his arms. "I know you will. We're always here for you, Max. Win or lose." She smiled. "Yeah, but I'm gonna win it." He grinned. She placed a kiss onto his lips and took Luuk back. "Just drive safely please." She smiled. She had always said it before his races, but this time it felt different to him; to both of them. They didn't just have eachother to think about, they had Luuk there and that meant more than any trophy. Max hugged her, kissing atop her head before Y/n made her way to the Red Bull garage, sitting down and finding a newfound sense of fear.

During the race, with the roar of engines and the intensity of competition, Max maneuvered his car skillfully, making sure to lap the cars and to finish the race safely so he could get back to his girlfriend, to his son. In the garage, Y/n held Luuk, watching anxiously. She always knew for certain Max would always do well but this particular time, she was nervous. On the team radio, GP was keeping him informed. "Looking good, Max. Keep pushing!" He said. Max radioed back. "Just a few more laps, we've got it."

As Max crossed the finish line, triumphant, he got onto the radio. "Great start to the season, guys. And for Y/n back in the garage;I told you I'd win it." Y/n rolled her eyes hearing the radio message before heading out eith Luuk to Parc Ferme. She watched as her boyfriend parked his car and stood atop of it, his arms opened open and triumphant. Sweaty and exhilarated, he hopped down, running straight to Y/n and Luuk. "You did so well." Y/n smiled, kissing his helmet. "Was he okay?" Max asked. "He was fine. Not a peep out of him." He nodded, holding his son's hand. "Good man." He chuckled, before excusing himself and celebrating with the crew.

Max held the microphone as he awaited his turn for his podium interview. "Max, first race back. You have your whole family here with you today, how does that feel?" Max smiled and looked up to the crowds. "Yeah, it's a great achievement. Obviously it's only the first race so we can't pinpoint whether we will win the whole thing or not. But yeah, I mean having my girlfriend and my son here makes every win even sweeter. They're my biggest supporters." The crowd cheered. "You obviously mentioned there, your son he was born just last month a few weeks before testing and now he's here with you and your wonderful girlfriend. Did you race for them today and are you racing for them this season?"

"I've always raced for Y/n, for as long as I've known the girl. It's just a full circle moment now that I'm now dedicating this win to our boy as well. This victory is their's as much as it is my own." The fans, witnessing the heartfelt family moment, erupted in cheers. Verstappen's not just a racer; he's a family man too. "Do you have any words for Luuk or have you already said everything you need to say to him?" He thought for a moment before looking right into the camera, almost teary. "Luuk, het zal uiteraard nog wel even duren voordat jij gaat racen, maar onthoud: als ik het kan, dan weet ik zeker dat jij het ook kunt. Als je er maar over nadenkt, zal ik vlak achter je staan, samen met je moeder. Ik hou van je, ik geloof in je, ik heb deze eerste overwinning aan jou opgedragen, jij draagt ​​de jouwe aan mij op." He handed the microphone to the interviewer and waved, heading off screen.

"So, listening to that now after your first win in Formula One, how are the emotions?" Luuk smiled as he set the tablet down, looking over at the very same interviewer. "I mean, it was a journey together. I dedicate every race to him, just as he did with me and to my mother as well. It was emotional when I crossed that finish line, he was the first person that popped right into my head. He always was and always has been. I'm just baffled to see how far we have come." The interviewer nodded. "Thank you Luuk. Its been a pleasure. Good luck with the rest of the season." Luuk bid his goodbyes and walked to his garage, in search for his parents who stood looking at their son's car. "Interviews done?" Y/n asked, kissing her son on the cheek. "Yes and I actually watched your speech you gave after Melbourne in 2024." Max smiled. "Did you?" Luuk nodded. "Yeah. It got me remembering absolutely everything we did." He smiled, patting his shoulder. "Come on, old man. You gotta get out of here, I have a car to drive."

"I'm not that old!"

-------

Translation: Luuk, it will obviously take some time before you start racing, but remember: if I can do it, I'm sure you can do it too. If you even think about it, I'll be right behind you, along with your mother. I love you, I believe in you, I dedicated this first victory to you, you dedicate yours to me

[adventuringblind]

Don't leave me

Max Verstappen x reader, platonic Oscar piastri/Lando norris/ Charles Leclerc x reader

Genre: angst

Request: Yes, and I'm litterally in love with this piece

Summary: they are basically her brothers. They would do anything for each other. Max, even more so after realizing he loves her. He'd take a bullet for her if it meant keeping her safe. Too bad she beats him to it.

Warnings: graphic description of injuries and gunshot wounds. Blood, panic, live shooter.

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

It's funny in this sport how friendships work. Your closest bonds are with your rivals. You grow up together racing if your trying to get noticed.

That's how the five of you were able to get close. Charles and Max met early on. They're pratically the same age, only a month separating them. She met them at several races, and things with them just stuck. Lando and her are the closest in age, meaning they were often in the same division for Karting. He, however, was able to get his spot in formula 1 faster than her. Leaving her in formula two for a year longer until she could join the three boys at the top. Oscar was a mystery. It helped that she and him were teammates for a season in formula 2. They got close during that time.

Now they are all together in Formula 1. Racing side by side. Making bets about who will win each race. Though nobody bets now because it's always Max. His domination insane so far this season.

They had created their own little dysfunctional family. She kept the boys in line, and they were definitely willing to fight anyone who touches her.

Max was a wildcard. She crushed on him growing up and never expected he would like her back. He had tired just confessing to her with words. His attempt went sideways quickly. Then he'd kissed her. After their last race of her rookie season.

He wasn't expecting her to kiss back and was pleasantly surprised when she did.

Both Charles and Lando were not surprised. However, they still sat him down like overprotective fathers and lectured him about how they wanted him to treat her properly.

And he has. It's been wonderful.

Oscar joining your small family this year added to the fun. Him and Lando get on well and the other three are just glad his calm aura can get the Brit to tone down if need be.

Max is now a two-time world champion and well on his way to a third. She couldn't be prouder of him, and the rest of her boys for that matter.

This race specifically, she's charing the podium with them. Max first, Lando with a shocking second, and her ending in third.

Charles owes her dinner now. He didn't think the McLaren upgrades would be so drastic.

The trophies are now being handed out. hers first. She lifts it up and smiles at the crowd.

She notices something odd, though. Some of the crowd is ducking and running away from the podium. Specifically from someone clad in black with a firearm aimed at Max.

Her body reacts quicker than she can think her actions through. Her legs are scaling the podium, throwing her body in front of Max to get him out of the way.

The shot rings out as they tumble to the ground together. A mess of limbs on the top step. She spots Lando dropping to the floor at the noise, and for a minute, she thinks it was him who was hit.

Her ears are ringing, and her breath is heavy. The faint sounds of yelling can be heard in the background. Max is saying something to her that she can't make out. Her only concern being that he's okay.

Questions about his safety and eyes scanning over his body to assess the damage. A brief moment of relief settles over her as she sees nothing wrong with him.

Max looks concerned, though. He's saying things to her she can't hear. Lando is next to him in seconds.

Then, the burning registers. Max's hands pull away from the side of her chest, and they are covered in glossy crimson. Coughs wrack through her. Uncontrollable and painful. The taste of copper filling in over her tongue.

Max is trying to keep her awake. He's begging her to keep her eyes open. Lando is shoving his hands over the wound. She can see tears running down his cheeks.

"I'm glad you're okay." Are the last words she manages before the pain gets too much. Black spots dance across her vision. She tries her best to focus on Max. Her lovers eyes refusing to leave hers.

She slips away into the blissful, pain-free feeling of unconsciousness.

~

Max is screaming in Dutch now. The crowd running away or being escorted out beneath him. Lando is next to putting pressure over the gaping hole in her chest.

The shot was meant for him.

He tries not to think about it as he attempts to keep himself grounded and his lover coherent.

Charles and Oscar are working to fight their way up to them. Their team and security held them back and haul them away to somewhere safe. Max can perfectly make out their shouts of protest.

Lando is next to try and get him off the bleeding female. Paramedics are now here to do their job, but he can't let go. Lando is forcing him his hands away, his hands keeping Max firmly placed on the ground as they haul her away.

He's screaming now. Both boys are covered in blood that isn't their own.

Oscar and Charles are finally freed and they are sprinting to the podium. The two arrivals attempting to console their friends.

~

The wait in the hospital is long and anxiety ridden. Max can feel the guilt eating him alive.

Him and Lando have long since cleaned their hands. The nurses let them wash themselves when they got to the hospital.

Charles has been attempting to console max. Reminding him that it isn't his fault and that she'll pull through. Their girl is a fighter.

Oscar has been attempting the same for his teammate. The Brit having gotten sick from the image replaying in his head.

It's hours until they are allowed to see her.

Even then it’s not much help. She’s breathing, but she’s not awake.

Max stays with her for days before Charles finally convinces him to go shower and eat a proper meal. Promising to watch her for him and let him know if anything changes.

He's grateful for Charles and is greatfull for the McLaren boys who have been dealing with the press.

He feels refreshed when he comes back, but the guilt is still there. It should be him lying in her place. It should have been him moving her out of the way.

It's the way Charles is trying to get his attention as he sits there crying. The Monegasque tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Yet Max can't bring himself to look at him.

It's been weeks now. The FIA had just announced they'd be racing again next weekend. The security is apparently being much better now. He resents them for not having sorted it out earlier and allowing someone with a gun into the race.

Charles is tapping more furiously now. His hand is now gripping Max's shoulder. Frustration boils up inside of him. He snaps his head towards the Ferrari driver but is met with your open eyes when he does so.

"I'm going to get a doctor." Whispers Charles.

The girl in the bed is disoriented but still trying to say his name. He can see the pain in her eyes. She is trying to hide it and put on a brave face, but it's obvious to him.

Max doesn't hold his tears back any longer. He sobs as he places gentle kisses to her knuckles. "I thought I lost you." He chokes.

The face that she can smile right now is a testament to her strength. She's being strong for him, and he knows it.

She moves closer to him despite the pain and wipes his tears away. "No need to cry, you're not losing me so easily."

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 46: Backflash

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Please comment and engage it means a lot to me and keeps me motivated 😇

Backflash to when you first met Cillian...

It was quite a sunny weekend for the month of May when Max first introduced you to his parents in Dublin which, at the time, was a nerve-wracking experience for you. 

By that point in time, you were already unsure whether you and Max would make it through the next year, but you went along nonetheless, almost selfishly, wanting to keep your options open.

When you arrived at their somewhat luxurious house in Dublin, it was Cillian who opened the door for you, first greeting his son Max before introducing himself to you, as if you didn't already know who he was. 

"Hi, I'm Cillian. Come on in," he greeted you warmly, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle shake and, at first, you were taken aback slightly when you saw him.

You smiled nervously as you couldn't stop staring at him. At that time, Cillian still looked quite different. His hair was greying nicely and was a tat longer than now. He was rather skinny too, having just finished filming Oppenheimer but you thought that he was incredibly attractive, nonetheless, even more so than on TV. 

You couldn't help but notice the resemblance between Cillian and Max as they stood next to each other, especially when it came to their piercing blue eyes and freckles. It was just that Cillian looked more seasoned, with a few wrinkles  around his eyes and mouth, but it only added to his charm. He had a regal aura about him, which was only amplified by his handsome features and confidence. It was hard not to be drawn to him, and you felt a twinge of guilt for thinking that.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," you replied eventually after a long pause, letting go of his hand quickly to hide your sudden nervousness.

"Sir?" he laughed off your formal introduction and gave you an impish smile. "Please, just call me Cillian."

"Alright, Cillian," you blushed slightly, feeling stupid for your response.

"That's more like it," he winked before turning to address Max. "And you, son, how's uni going? How did you go with the exams?" Cillian asked Max with a smile, but his tone was full of paternal concern as he ushered you both inside.

Max shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "It kinda sucks," letting out a small sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I am thinking about quitting, dad," he voiced  hesitantly.

Cillian's face was stern for a moment, his eyes scanning Max closely as he processed the weight of these words before nodding slowly. "Well, it's a decision only you can make," he responded thoughtfully, which was a response that surprised you. 

"Year two exams are the worst," you chimmed in. "Max might find the next semester a bit easier and more interesting," you explained to Cillian before giving Max a reassuring smile and hoping that it might cheer him up a little.

Cillian looked at you with a thankful glance before nodding slowly in agreement. "There you go," he responded after a while, a bit thoughtful, but then he changed the subject and turned his attention to you instead.

"So, Y/N, Max mentioned that you are at med school together?" he asked curiously and you quickly nodded.

"Yes, I am at the end of my third year," you explained to Cillian just before you heard another voice from the hallway.

"Y/N is a tat older than Max, which isn't necessarily a bad thing," a rather attractive woman in her forties said as she approached you, taking off her gardening gloves, before hugging Max tightly.

"I am Danielle," she then said to you  with a warm smile. "Max's mum," she said as she shook your hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you, Danielle," you replied quickly, still in shock that Cillian's wife had just introduced herself to you. "I am Y/N," you added quickly and politely, which earned you a smile from Danielle.

"Yes, I know who you are. Max told me a lot about you," Danielle replied while rubbing Max's back and giving him a kiss on the cheek, seemingly happy to see him. 

"Oh good, I am glad," you lied quickly, and it was at this point that you picked up some tension between Cillian and his wife. It was obvious to you that they had been fighting and , although you did not want to pry, you could not help but feel a little curious.

As the afternoon progressed, Cillian and Danielle seemed to avoid each other as much as possible, opting to spend time with Max and you separately instead.

Eventually though you overheard a conversation between them both, as the tension had clearly become too much for both of them. 

Max, too, noticed his parents interaction with one another and sighed. "They do this all the fucking time," he sighed as he had noticed your ears dropping in on their discussions. 

"Dad has been cheating on her and she's hurt I suppose," he explained to you, shaking his head with a frustrated look on his face.

"Really?" you asked, earning yourself a puzzled look from Max. 

"Of course. I mean, wouldn't you be furious if I was cheating on you?" Max asked, rolling his eyes at you.

"Uhm, no. I mean, yes. Is he really cheating on her though?" you wondered out loud, wondering how much there was to these allegations before abandoning the topic abruptly. "You know what, it's none of my business and you really should stay out of it too, Max. This is between them if infidelity is what it is about," you quickly backtracked, not wanting to get involved in the personal matters of Cillian and Danielle.

But despite what you had said, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment and sadness towards the situation. It seemed like the tension between them had been ongoing for quite some time, and it was unfortunate to see them both in such a painful position.

You pushed the thought out of your mind as the afternoon went on, participating in small talk with Max and Cillian while Danielle opted to stay in the garden, enjoying the fresh air and sunlight.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Cillian eventually asked, cutting through the awkward tension that had built up in the room.

"Sure. But Y/N here has weird taste when it comes to cinematography,"  Max chuckled, breaking the tension with a joke.

"Oh really?" Cillian chuckled before turning to you. "What kind of movies do you like?" he then asked  , curiosity piqued.

"Well, I like to watch a wide variety of films. But, I really like some of the classics," you explained somewhat nervously, seeing how Cillian was a famous actor and you had not seen the majority of his films. 

"Y/N likes black and white movies and, I don't know, weird Indies and shit like that," 

Max chirped in, trying to be funny as he looked at Cillian hoping that his remark would lighten the mood but it had the opposite effect.

Cillian raised an eyebrow at Max's rude comment and shot him a piercing glare of his own, but before either of them could say anything else, you chimed in.

"Max and I can never agree on what to watch, so maybe no movie then," you chuckled  nervously, feeling a bit awkward with the tension that had just arisen.

But Cillian quickly recovered and said, "Okay, well, how about you take Y/N for a walk and show her around? You could take Scout with you? Spend some quality time together," Cillian finished, his gaze softening as he glanced at the black Lab sitting loyally beside him.

"That sounds great," you responded with a genuine smile, grateful for the reprieve from the tension that had come to a head earlier but Max sighed.

"No, that sounds boring," he complained, his shoulders sagging slightly as he looked between Scout and you.

"Right, uhm, I don't know then Max," Cillian said while you looked a little disappointed.  "But what I do know is that Scout needs to go for a walk, so I will take him to the beach," Cillian then quickly decided, standing up from the couch with the black Lab by his side.

"Why don't we go too, Max?" you suggested, already feeling a sudden pang in your chest from the excitement of spending time with his father. "It will be fun," you tried to encourage him, but Max simply shook his head. 

"No. I don't really want to," Max said almost bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you go. I am sure dad will show you around while I stay here," he then said , opting to stay in the safety of the living room instead.

Cillian frowned but did not protest. "Alright, I mean, if you want to come, you can," he then said, looking at you as he clipped on Scout's leash which was lying around on the corner table in the living room. 

"Yeah, uhm, okay. I love the beach and haven't been for ages. So, I won't say no," you replied with a smile, feeling a little guilty for being so excited to go to the beach with Cillian without Max.

"Alright then, let's get going," Cillian said, breaking the awkward tension that had settled between you both as he walked towards the door and led the way outside.

You took a deep breath and followed him, trying to shake off the guilt you felt earlier. After all, Max did seem to be occupied with his own thoughts and you thought that spending some time away from the tension might do some good for both you.  As you both stepped outside, the sun felt warm on your skin yet the breeze was still crisp and cool, giving you a chill every now and then. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing and soon, you found yourself feeling more relaxed as you walked closer towards the beach.

Scout trotted playfully beside Cillian, wagging his tail happily while you both moved swiftly on the pathway leading to the beach.

You unconsciously adjusted the pace of your steps to match Cillian's before you could even realize it, the two of you moving in a harmony that was somehow familiar to you while the silence between the two of you was not.

Being on your own with Max's father who you had just met made you feel somewhat strange as you tried to keep the absurdity of the situation out of your mind but, luckily for you, after an awkward ten minutes of silence, Cillian decided to speak up.

"So, other than studying, what do you do?" Cillian asked as you both walked together along the sandy beach.

"I like to read or listen to music mainly. But I also love travelling which, unfortunately, is too time consuming for me to do right now, with uni and all," you replied, looking out at the crystal clear water ahead of you.

Cillian nodded, looking introspective for a moment. "I can understand that. I haven't been on a holiday for years, although I do get to travel a lot for work I suppose. But it's not really the same, you know," he said and you looked over at him, surprised by his honesty.

"Yes, I can imagine. Must be hard being away from home so much," you commented, trying to show empathy towards his situation.

"It can be," he replied simply, his tone contemplative. You both walked in silence for a few moments before Cillian asked, "Do you think Max will drop out of uni?" 

The question caught you off guard as you looked at Cillian, eyes wide with surprise. You hesitated for a moment before answering, "I don't know. He seemed certain about it earlier, but he's been known to change his mind before."

"Yes, he is quite a fickle one," Cillian chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "But then again, so was I when I was his age, so I am not surprised," he then added, giving you a soft smile.

"Well, it all worked out for you though, didn't it?"  you asked, trying to keep the conversation light as you both walked along the beach with Scout.

Cillian chuckled and nodded. "I suppose so, although I had my fair share of struggles too. But I am grateful for where I am now," he said thoughtfully, taking in the beauty of the beach and the sunset on the horizon.

You looked over at him and smiled. "You should be. You have done well for yourself," you said, genuinely happy for Cillian's success. "But, with Max, I am really worried that he will make the wrong call. He does not know what he wants in life, and he really needs to figure that out soon," you added, a slight frown crossing your face as you thought about Max and his carefree attitude towards life.

Cillian nodded in understanding, his piercing blue eyes studying you before he replied, "I have told Max that he needs to figure out what he wants to do in life, but sometimes, one has to learn from their own mistakes, unfortunately."

"That is true," you sighed, appreciating Cillian's honesty towards the matter. "But if there is anything I can do to help him with his decision, I would," you added determinedly, looking at Cillian earnestly.

"You are very mature for your age, aren't you?" Cillian remarked with a curious look in his eyes as you continued to discuss Max's future with him.

You nodded, laughing a little at his unexpected compliment. "I guess I am just determined and I do care for Max, so I want to help him figure things out," you replied with a small smile before changing the topic something more lighthearted.

The sun had started to set, coloring the sky with hues of pink and orange as the two of you walked along the beach. Scout ran joyfully in the sand, occasionally stopping to splash in the waves before racing back to Cillian and you.

You talked for a while, not only about Max, but also about music, movies and  literature, both finding common interests that you could bond over.

You both joked and laughed as you walked along the beach, the sound of waves crashing against the shore creating a soothing soundtrack to your conversation until, eventually, you both had to turn back. 

When you came back to the house, you all prepared yourselves for dinner which went uneventful and was filled with lots of small talk. Cillian and Danielle 's interactions were a bit distant and tense, and it was clear that they were avoiding each other. You couldn't help but feel a little bit uncomfortable, and you wondered if Max had noticed it too.

After dinner, you and Max decided to watch a movie in the living room with Cillian after all and Danielle retired to the bedroom early, claiming that she had gotten too much sun. As you watched the movie, your mind wandered off to the events of the day, and you found yourself thinking about your interaction with Cillian on the beach. You realized that you had enjoyed his company, and it surprised you how much you had in common.

You were both interested in literature, music, and movies, and it was refreshing to find someone who didn't think your taste was weird.

But you couldn't deny that there was a certain spark between you two, and it made you feel guilty. You were there to support Max, not to hook up with his dad. Besides, Cillian was married.

You shook your head, trying to dispel those thoughts from your mind and, in the end, you went to bed before the action movie Max had picked earlier to spite you had come to an end.

Max then joined you half an hour later, waking you up from your slumber with a gentle bounce on the bed.

"I was thinking about tomorrow," he then went on to say, turning on the bedside table lamp while you rubbed your eyes and sighed in disbelief. 

"Max, I was asleep," you murmured in response before you stared at the ceiling fan above your head as he told you about his plans for tomorrow, muttering something about a football game and hanging out with his friends. You listened halfheartedly, your head still foggy and your mind still heavy with the events of the day.

Max then climbed beneath the sheets  , and nestled himself close to you. You could feel the warmth of his body through his clothes, and as much as you wanted to push him away, you couldn't.

He had always been a cuddler, and you allowed it, knowing that his cuddles usually put him in a better mood.

"Do you want to make out?" he then asked, his voice muffled as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

You tensed, caught off-guard by his sudden question. "What? No, Max. We are at your parents' house," you said firmly, shifting away from him.

But Max didn't seem to get the hint. He continued to inch closer to you, his hand snaking up your shirt and tracing patterns on your skin. "Just be quiet then and they won't hear us," he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"Max, stop it," you said sternly, trying to push him away, causing him to sigh. 

"Fine," he huffed before rolling away from you, giving you the cold shoulder.

You sighed and turned off the bedside table lamp again. The room was plunged into darkness, with only the glow of the moonlight peeking through the window illuminating the room. You could feel Max's disappointment but you tried to ignore it.

You closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would come to you quickly, but despite your exhaustion, your mind was racing.

You couldn't stop thinking about Cillian and the way he had made you feel on the beach.

It was a strange feeling, one that you hadn't experienced before, and you weren't sure what to make of it. You weren't attracted to him, at least not in that way, but there was something about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You tossed and turned in bed, trying to shake off the feeling, but it was no use. After almost an hour of trying, you finally gave up on sleep and got out of bed, making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was late, but you could hear the faint sound of music coming from the living room.

You padded down the hallway, drawn to the sound like a moth to a flame. You paused in the doorway and saw Cillian sitting on the sofa with a book in his hand while listening to a Vinyl record.  He didn't notice you at first, so you had a chance to look at him in peace. 

The record he was playing was a classic one, something you enjoyed too but hadn't listened to in a long time. You felt a strange connection to him in that moment, as if you two were kindred spirits.

Cillian seemed to have sensed your presence as he looked up and smiled at you warmly.

"Can't sleep?" he asked softly, not taking his gaze away from you.

You shook your head as you made your way to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. You were surprised by how your heart was beating faster. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under Cillian's gaze. It was as if he could see through you, into the innermost depths of your soul.

You took a sip of water, trying to calm your nerves before making your way to the living room.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you  asked softly, hoping that it wouldn't disturb Cillian from his reading.

"Of course not. Please," he said, gesturing to the empty space on the sofa next to him, which you gratefully accepted.

You sat down next to Cillian, and as the music played in the background, you couldn't help but feel yourself relax in his presence. It was as if all the stress and tension of the day had melted away in an instant, replaced by a sense of calm and tranquility that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I love that album ," you said softly, closing your eyes as the lyrics washed over you.

Cillian smiled, nodding. "Me too. It brings back memories," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Of what?" you asked curiously.

"Well, it reminds me of a time when I was younger and I used to go on road trips with my family," he said with a nostalgic look on his face.

"We would have the record playing on repeat in the car and belt out the lyrics, even if we had no idea what we were belting out," he chuckled with a fond smile.

"My dad actually listened to that same album too when we went on road trips, although it probably came out well before his generation. It's timeless," you smiled as you leaned back into the couch before you kept talking about music for what felt like an hour. 

As the hour passed, the conversation got more personal and intimate.

You shared stories about your upbringing and Cillian did the same, allowing you to learn more about him and the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that you and Cillian had a lot in common.

In between conversations, you also both found yourselves looking at each other for longer than necessary and the tension in the room started to build up.

Suddenly, Cillian's eyes dropped to your lips and you felt his gaze linger there for what felt like an eternity.

You could feel the tension between you growing, and you couldn't deny that you were feeling something too.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do next and Cillian was as reluctant as you were  .

But it was inevitable, you both could feel it.

He reached out and gently brushed your hair away from your face before leaning in closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours, seeking permission, the anticipation building up in the room causing both of your breaths to hitch as he finally closed the distance between you and kissed you.

"I am so fucking sorry,"  he then said after he suddenly pulled away, his voice full of regret, immediately causing a feeling of devastation to wash over you.

"It's okay," you assured him softly, reaching out to touch his arm. You didn't want him to feel guilty about what had happened between you two. After all, you had felt the chemistry between you too, and it had been mutual. There was no need to apologize.

But Cillian avoided your touch and stood up abruptly, running his fingers through his hair in frustration as he paced around the living room.

"I shouldn't have done that. You are dating my son, and I am fucking married," he muttered, barely audible, but you still heard it.

"It's fine," you said, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to compose yourself. "I allowed it, and it doesn't matter. Let's just pretend it never happened, okay?" you suggested, trying to defuse the tension that had built up in the room.

"Okay," he  whispered, although it was obvious he didn't want to forget it, but at least, he was holding back the apologies.

You both sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before you eventually broke the silence.

"I should probably go back to bed," you announced, getting up and walking towards the doorway.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Cillian agreed, his voice barely above a whisper, which was the last one on one interaction you had with him until you met him again at the jazz bar, almost a year later. 

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[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

To the person who sent me an ask worrying about this article from Consequence TV maybe being the start of OFMD being cancelled, I accidentally deleted it so I'm responding here!

Tl;dr: absent any other information, I'm not worried about it. When I first saw it, it was paired with a headline that said somehting along the the lines of "Taika Waititi hints he won't be returning for OFMD season 3," which seems to have changed and just isn't actually said anywhere in the article itself.

The first part of the article is immediately a bit scary:

When Consequence asks writer/director/actor Taika Waititi if he’s feeling optimistic about a third season of Our Flag Means Death, his initial response is this: “Have you seen the end?”

While this looks scary, I encourage you to stop, breathe for a moment, read that again: crucially, that's not really an answer to the fucking question, and it's presented without context or even any indication that was TW's full answer. It's such a vague opener and without any follow-up it's practically meaningless.

The next parts of the article that a lot of people are concerned about are these paragraphs:

Max has yet to announce plans for a third season but Our Flag Means Death has become a fan favorite for its loving portrayal of its core relationship between Ed and Stede. For Waititi, though, the Season 2 finale “feels like a natural end to their story. Just because I feel like, you know, they’ve been through so much and then wind up in that nice place at a happy ending.” Waititi calls Our Flag Means Death “a really special show,” adding that “I love the show so much and maybe it can survive without Rhys and I. Maybe, I don’t know. I do I think the character of Blackbeard is something I’m really proud of.” Waititi says, though, that “I don’t want it to feel like Rambo III suddenly, you know, when you’re like, ‘Oh man, they have to leave their idyllic life again.'”

When I first read that headline, I was obviously like what the fuck, but when I clicked the link I immediately dismissed this whole article. I'm a person naturally given to anxiety and over-thinking - I'm not saying that to dismiss anyone who is worried about that, I'm saying that to emphasize just how contextless and clickbait-y this article is.

It's important to remember two things: OFMD is a mainstream property that is still generating a lot of traffic due to speculation on whether it's going to be renewed, and Taika Waititi, as a person, attracts a lot of divisive media attention that is often very clickbait-y in nature. He's also the biggest name attached to OFMD.

If we look at this article, all of TW's lines are presented to us out of context. We are not given the questions he was asked or told anything about when this interview took place (other than after the finale, obviously).

A breakdown of what TW says with possible, more likely context:

"The s2 finale felt like a natural, happy ending for Stede and Ed." This is true, and we also know this was intentional in case the show doesn't get renewed. This is not new information.

"Maybe the show can survive without Rhys and I." This is what people are (understandably) worried about, but this is both not a firm statement of "I don't want to come back for s3" and completely devoid of context. A possible explanation is that DJenks has mentioned possible spin-offs; TW could be here referring to spin-offs that don't involve him or Rhys Darby. As an executive producer, there is literally no way TW doesn't know at lesat the broad outline of DJenks' plan for s3.

"I don't want it to feel like they're leaving their idyllic life again." TW doesn't want Ed and Stede's story to be beaten to death, he wants it to have a satisfying, happy ending. Again, this should not be surprising information, it's just presented in a way that makes it seem like he definitely thinks s2 should be the end of Ed and Stede when that is not what he says.

This article is completely devoid of context, and because of that I consider all TW's statements in here to be essentially meaningless because we don't know any of the questions he was asked. I believe the most logical context for these quotations were him talking about the finale and how it was satisfying in case they didn't get s3, speculating about possible spin-offs, and then talking about how he doesn't want the story to be one of those TV shows that go on too long.

A bit of additional context: Consequence is, primarily, a music review and news site. They have a TV segment, where this article is housed, but music is their main focus and they are not a website where you expect to find actual breaking TV news, let alone from big names like TW. Larger film and TV publications we've seen covering the recent release of Next Goal Wins, in comparison, universely refer to the OFMD s2 as "successful" and refer to a "likely" third season - for publications actually focused on TV, the predominant view seems to be that OFMD is successful and a 3rd season seems very likely.

This article is very clickbait-y and tells us absolutely nothing. It absolutely does not say that TW is uninterested in returning for s3 (in fact, it says the opposite, he repeats again how much he loves the show) or that OFMD will be cancelled.

We're okay. Even if we do get news that OFMD hasn't been greenlit for s3, I promise it's not going to break on Consequence TV of all places.

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p3, during the post-qualifying press conference, spain - june 22, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Lewis, welcome back to the top three. It's good to have you back in here. Look, how sweet has today been for you, from a performance point of view?" Lewis: "I think it's been okay. It's good to be back up here. I miss being on this sofa, although it's not from IKEA. [laughs] No, but generally it's great to see that we're progressing and, really, you've seen over the last couple of races that we're slowly climbing closer to the guys up front. So I think there was a little bit more performance in the car today, but it's really on the knife edge, and so we've got some improvements to make to the car. But yeah, as I said, I'm really happy to be in this… P3's a pretty good spot to be in for the start, with that long straight down to turn one." Interviewer: "And, Lewis, you're just a tenth of a second off pole position. Did you expect to be that close, coming in?" Lewis: "Three-tenths off. Yeah, so it's a pretty big chunk. For a track like this, it's not too bad. As I said, through the lap there's a little bit of time, I think. I probably could have been two-tenths, but still, they have a slight advantage. But for us to be that close on a track like this is a real good showing that we're going in the right direction. As I said, we've got some improvements that we need to bring over the next few races in order for us to be properly in range of those guys." Interviewer: "Okay, so you're three-tenths off pole. Do you think you can challenge for the victory tomorrow?" Lewis: "I think it would be very difficult. I think these two will be very quick, but position is everything, so I think we'll… Also there's two of us, so hopefully we can apply pressure as a team to both of the cars ahead in order to maybe play out something in strategy and slowly climb up. I think it's all about degradation tomorrow and how you look after the tires, so we won't know until we get into that first run." Interviewer: "I was going to say, what was your deg like during practice?" Lewis: "It was pretty decent. I don't know if it was as good as Max's, but I'll try and make it better tomorrow."

[time jump] Journalist: "Hi, question for Lewis. Pilar for Paddock Magazine. Congratulations, Lewis. Welcome back. You have mentioned you don't really feel you have the pace to fight for the victory, but how realistic is it to believe that you could fight for the podium, considering you have one Red Bull and two Ferraris behind, in terms of pace?" Lewis: "I think the bigger concern, probably, is the Ferraris behind us. Obviously we were all within half a tenth, I think, from third to fifth. I think it was fifth or sixth. And they had an upgrade this weekend, so I think their long pace looked quite strong, so I think it's more working together as a team and trying to hold position, at least. If we happen to have more pace available to us and we're able to hold onto these guys, then it's game on, but we really won't know until tomorrow. And degradation is always key here, and when you have a really good rear end you can save your balance, but you can save the rear tires, so that's going to be key for tomorrow."

[time jump] Journalist: "Alex Kalinauckas, Autosport. There's been various occasions so far this season where you've looked really quite strong in practice and then, come qualifying, it's not come together. Not the case at this event. I just wondered, what do you think made the difference this time?" Lewis: "I still feel like I lost performance going into the… I still lost a little bit, going into quali. It's all about perspective. Maybe they just moved forwards, but I definitely feel like there was a little bit more. But just as you start to push the car, it doesn't like it. So in practice, when you leave a little bit of margin the car feels quite nice, but it's when you start to really lean on it to try and get that extra bit of lap time out where we really struggle, and I think it's all in the tires. So you saw in P1, I was seven-tenths down due to an issue with the blankets, and then we got it sorted for the following sessions. So it puts you a little bit on the back foot, but yeah, otherwise the car, as I said, it's good that we're up here and it's the best qualifying I've had this year, so I'm really grateful for it."

[time jump] Journalist: "Vladimir Rogovets, SB Belarus Segodniya. This track today hasn't the last chicane and you have today good result. Is it better without chicane? Is it better for you or for your car?" Lewis: "I've not driven this car on the old track, but I think we've been relatively good in the low speed, so I don't know. I think these last two corners are more enjoyable. The last corner is full gas at 280, or something like that, kilometers an hour, which is amazing, and it's really, really challenging, on the knife edge, heart in your mouth sort of corner, so much, much better than the small chicane that we used to have. And I think it's better to follow and should provide better racing. I think it did already last year. So whether or not our car is as good as theirs in the high speed, I'll look at the dadta, but it's probably relatively close."

[beth--b]

The only place you’re going is to the pharmacy

Cold and flu season had hit the town of Hawkins hard this Winter.

Steve felt like all he had done for the past three weeks was babysit sick kids. Robin included, although he'd never have referred to her as a kid in front of her. He liked his head on his shoulders thank you very much.

Dustin had been hit first, his Mom being a nurse meant he had been exposed to the horrid flu making the rounds through her patients at work.

Dustin had of course passed it onto the rest of the party.

First Lucas, quickly followed by Will and El, then Max and finally Mike.

Then both Joyce and Hopper had fallen ill and Steve had spent as much time as possible helping the kids out while the adults rested.

He'd run to the store or the pharmacy as needed, cleaned up, cooked soup and made tea.

Read it here on ao3

Mike of course passed it onto Nancy, and Jonathan had gotten sick from either Will or Nancy. It was hard to tell really with so many of their group sick, they could probably both have been given some of the blame.

Robin had gone down hard after Nancy, and finally she had passed it onto Eddie.

Between Robin and Eddie, Steve was exhausted.

Since Vecna's defeat, and high school graduation, the trio had been living together at Steve's house. His parents had sent him the deeds to the house and then cut all ties. It was like they had decided that they had done their duty as parents in giving him a house and now they were done. Truthfully he was quite content in the knowledge that they wouldn’t be back in Hawkins judging his every move.

With Robin sick she had been coughing and sneezing all night long for days. Steve felt for her, he truly did, but he was already on week two of running himself ragged trying to take care of the rest of their mismatched little family. Despite that he made sure to buy her cold medicine and kept the fridge stocked with orange juice for vitamin C, and he'd made a batch of chicken soup. He had sat with her to watch movies on the couch when she'd felt up to it and made sure she drank plenty of water to stay hydrated.

When Eddie had fallen ill as well, Steve might have gone out to the beemer and taken a moment to himself so he didn't burst into exhausted tears.

Momentary breakdown done, he came back inside and became the doting boyfriend that Eddie deserved.

By now Steve had the routine down pat, he had tea, tissues, soup and cough medicine ready for Eddie whenever he needed. Eddie had offered to sleep somewhere else so Steve could get some rest and try to avoid the flu as well but Steve had brushed his concerns off.

"Honestly Eddie, if three weeks of taking care of all you sick people hasn't taken me down then I'm sure I'll be fine," Steve had told him.

"But Steve, none of those other sick people were sleeping in your bed," Eddie explained, sniffling and wiping his red nose with a tissue.

Steve made a mental note to try and get some softer tissues for Eddie in the morning.

"It's fine. Unless you really want to sleep in the guest room, it’s next to Robin’s room and she is snoring like a chainsaw with her blocked nose," Steve quirked an eyebrow and Eddie threw his hands up in defeat.

"Fine! I'll stay. But if you get sick I will be saying 'I told you so' mark my words!" The effect was ruined by Eddie breaking into a coughing fit.

"Yeah, yeah. Now get to bed Eddie."

The pair got ready for bed, Eddie out like a light in minutes and Steve not far behind.

Steve woke several hours later to the sound of coughing.

He rubbed Eddie’s back as he shook with the force of his coughs. Steve slipped from the bed, bleary eyed and half asleep, and made his way to the bathroom for some more cough medicine. Pouring the correct dose into the little measuring cup he took it back to Eddie and helped him sit upright enough to take the medicine. He made a mental note to buy more along with the tissues the next day.

It was another hour before Eddie got into a proper deep sleep again and even longer for Steve who had stayed up, rubbing Eddie’s back and getting him water when he needed his glass refilled.

It felt all too soon when morning came, Steve cracked his eyes open and immediately closed them with a wince. His head was killing him and his eyes were burning. Despite that he dragged himself out of bed, pressing a hand to a sleeping Eddie’s forehead to check for fever, it was blessedly cool, and then made his way to the bathroom.

Bladder taken care of, Steve went downstairs ready to make tea for the two sick occupants of the house. He got a tray and made tea for Robin and Eddie as well as getting them both some orange juice and toast.

Breakfast sorted, he slowly climbed the stairs to take the food to Robin and Eddie.

He pushed Robin's door open with his foot, she slept with the door ajar so it was easy enough. Robin was seemingly just waking up and she smiled sleepily at Steve as he entered.

"Morning dingus. Ohh breakfast for little old me? Gimme!" Robin sat up and made grabby hands towards the food.

"You're obviously doing better then," Steve said, handing Robin a plate and a glass. The tea set aside on the bedside table.

"So much better. Fucking finally."

"Fingers crossed Eddie's turned the corner as well then," still holding the tray Steve turned and left the room leaving Robin to eat.

Steve had almost made it back to his and Eddie's room when he felt a sneeze building in his sinuses. He hurried to the door and practically threw the tray on the floor as he let out a quite frankly, ridiculously loud sneeze.

"Bless you Stevie," came Eddie's voice, muffled by the blanket that was over his head.

Steve rubbed at his nose before picking the tray up again and depositing it on the bed.

With the bed shifting as Steve set the tray down, Eddie finally moved the blanket off his face and sat up.

"You finally getting sick?" Eddie asked, sniffing and rubbing his eyes.

"You sound like you want me to get sick," Steve said, crossing his arms and looking down at Eddie.

"Not want, it's more like I'm just waiting for the inevitable to happen at this point."

"Gee thanks, that's so much better," Steve huffed before dropping down to sit beside Eddie on the bed.

"Seriously though Stevie, you've been taking care of everyone. Make sure you take care of yourself too."

"Alright, alright. I'm sure I'm fine though. Now drink up and get some more rest," Steve stood backup and dropped a kiss to Eddie's forehead before leaving the room.

Logically he knew he should listen to Eddie and take it easy. The thought of a nap was almost too tempting despite the fact it was still relatively early. Logic was set aside though as the pile of dishes in the sink and neglected laundry that was starting to overflow and fallout of the hamper were waiting so he put a load of laundry on and then began to fill the sink.

A little over an hour later Steve was regretting his choice to do housework.

He was stuffy, his head was killing him and his throat was beginning to feel a little like he had been swallowing glass.

Robin, who was finally feeling better came downstairs as he finished washing up and took one look at him before she sighed in frustration.

"Steve you look like I've felt the last few days. What are you even doing up if you're sick?"

"House stuff, we needed clean clothes, clean dishes. I should run to the store, Eddie needs cough syrup, we need to get some groceries," Steve paused and began to cough, once the coughing fit ended he followed it up with three rather explosive sneezes.

"Ah ah, no groceries for you. Only place you are going to is the pharmacy. Better yet, go to bed and I'll get Nancy to drive me to the pharmacy. You just run along and snuggle with Eddie!"

Steve wanted to protest, really he did. But before he could even get a word out Robin had grabbed his hand and started tugging him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

"Go!" Robin said with one last push to his back to get him moving up the staircase.

Too tired to argue, Steve just kept walking up the stairs and to his bedroom.

When he opened the bedroom door Eddie was laying in bed reading, he glanced up at Steve and frowned when he took in Steve's too pale complexion, red nose and flushed cheeks.

"Shit baby, you really are sick. I hope you are planning on coming to bed and getting some rest?"

Instead of answering, Steve just collapsed onto the bed beside Eddie.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

With a low groan Steve shuffled across the bed so he could bury his head against Eddie's side. The musician's long fingers quickly went to work massaging Steve's head and the back of his neck until Steve had practically melted into Eddie's side.

"Get some rest sweetheart. You've taken care of everyone, now we'll take care of you."

[livefastdriveyoung]

Takeaways from Testing Day 1

The RB-20 Maintains Status Quo - Max ended a full 1.162 (don't quote me but I think that's the correct math) ahead of Lando Norris in P2. The car did not appear to struggle under its 142 laps. It also remained consistent across majority of the runs. Checo will drive tomorrow.

Aston Martin is being underestimated - Fernando Alonso is a world champion, he started his session in P3. He stayed there for a great deal of the session. Even ending in P8 puts him in the points if this is a race. Additionally, Lance pulled through into the top five, taking P4 for a period of time. He's a strong driver, he shouldn't be underestimated. They both finished in the points, and had Lance not lost his mirror he could have pulled a fast lap.

Williams Car is the problem, not the drivers - I cannot reiterate this one enough. Alex Albon had a fuel pump problem, so entirely out of his control. Logan Sargeant has improved. Undoubtedly so. Not only has he built up his muscle and trained hard, he spun out and still managed to get back onto the track, and sit at P10 for most of the session before ending P11. Allegedly the reason he had a spin out was also because of a gearbox/transmission error. Whether it was the cause or the issue was the result, he held it together well. The car is having problems, not the drivers.

Mercedes Performance - We know that Lewis Hamilton is a strong driver. He's never been the best qualifier when there are competitive cars. Yes, George did not do as well as he could have, ending with P12, but he experienced at least two lock-ups. There's no guarantee that the issues don't exist in Lewis's car as well. We'll see what happens.

The complaint about their front wing design is interesting. F1 and FIA are separate organizations. Mercedes wouldn't blatantly violate the letter of the law, they would be the first team to be called out for it. They follow the letter and have the approval of the FIA. It has been approved. Whether F1's concern about the 'spirit' of the law being violated is something that could impact them, I don't know. I'm sure that the new rules will include a provision against this next year, but any immediate action, I doubt. Symonds is unimpressed.

Haas is not to be thrown out of the running - yet - A new team principal means that there are going to be changes. They straight out said the focus was on the Tyres and not on performance. While they are not a strong team, I think that throwing them away just because you might have preferred Guenther, or like to rely on what you already know, this isn't that. Yet.

Visa Cash-App Racing Bulls - Forget it, I'm calling them V-CARB. Anyway, Daniel Ricciardo, (LOL that autocorrected to all caps which is so funny) had minimal struggle with the car. His first few laps were not great,, but to end in P4 is wonderful. His statements about a podium in the beginning of the season being a dream not a reality is interesting, but I wonder if that is self-deprecation/spreading the party message from within Red Bull's house. Yuki finished P13, but, again, only had a morning slot. He was high up for a good portion of the day as well. I think this is going to be interesting. The narrative that they are not a junior team anymore seems to be accurate.

Stake did well - The C44 is worlds ahead of last year's model. Additionally, we forget regularly that Bottas was a Mercedes driver, he's won Gps before. Zhou is not a bad driver, I think this might be his last season to prove himself because I think Audi will keep someone who has a history of winning, and if the rumors are true, Carlos Sainz will be getting one of the seats. But that might motivate him. He's also young, 24 is below the mean age of the drivers (29) and if he can demonstrate improvements, they might keep him over Bottas.

Ferrari Fights - Buckle down y'all. I don't think that Carlos will do anything to sabotage Charles, he's not an idiot, but he's going to do what he has to in order to prove that Ferrari are losing out on a driver. He was P3 today. Charles is great, we know he can drive, his improvement is clear. I'm curious as to what that is going to look like.

if he's moved on from this, he's going to need to demonstrate to Audi that he can be a First Driver.

Alpine - Pierre pulled P5 right at the end. Ocon is toward the bottom. I'm not sure what's going on in house but nobody is happy allegedly. Guess we'll see.

[elisysd]

Place in me - Luke Hemmings

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Call me in the morning, yeah I'm sorry that I let you down, I I'm so apathetic, it's pathetic But I need you now, now

Charles approached the Japanese Grand Prix with confidence, but with a certain anxiety. Confident because he was just back from a race where he had won. Apprehensive because of the memories linked to this track. Memories that he preferred to repress far, far away in his memory. But it was as if fate had decided that it wasn't going to leave him in peace. Conditions on Sunday were far from ideal. The track was soaked and Charles shared his concerns with Fred, who admitted that he wasn't at ease either. But despite the FIA's reluctance and the rain, which showed no sign of stopping, the race went ahead.

Getting up at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning was not what Lyanna had in mind when she thought about her weekend. But she had promised Charles that she would watch all his races, from free practices to the finish line. In addition, he was starting from P3, a position he didn't particularly like, but nonetheless he was in front and that made Lyanna happy. She had no doubt that he would be able to hold his position. But the rain and the commentators on television didn't reassure her. She couldn't wait for the race to finish. Firstly because she knew that Charles didn't really like Suzuka and secondly because it meant that he was coming home, something that Lyanna felt had not happened for far too long. She couldn't wait to see him walk through the doors of the flat and she had promised herself that as soon as he arrived, she wouldn't let him out of her sight. Besides, he was coming home just in time for her birthday and she couldn't wait to spend it in bed with him. Nothing but Charles and the few phone calls she felt compelled to take.

The race finally started and Charles quickly overtook Checo to follow in Max's trail. The rain was pouring down and Lyanna couldn't imagine what Charles could see, or rather not see, and feel. If she closed her eyes, it would make her want to throw up. With her eyes glued to the screen, she could see Charles battling with Max for P1 and even before the impact, she knew. She knew that neither of them would win the duel. And it was Charles who made the mistake in trying to overtake Max. The Ferrari's rear wheels locked, forcing him to adjust his trajectory and collide with Max. Both spun and hit the barrier.

Lyanna gasped, events of last year replaying in her head. But it wasn't long before she saw Max and Charles get out of the car, unharmed. She exhaled. They were fine.

She was the first person Charles called when he got back to the hotel. He was exhausted and angry, and unfortunately for Lyanna she soon realised that it was going to be up to her to find the words to comfort the Monegasque driver.

“You don’t understand Lyanna! It’s my fault. 100%. And I can’t afford to make stupid mistakes like this! Not now that I have a real chance at the championship, I can’t fuck it up.”

“You’re too hard with yourself… The track was completely wet because of the rain it could have happened to anyone, to Lewis or even Max. You’re a human Charles, not a robot.”

“It was a rookie mistake, Lyanna. I know better than that.” He said harshly.

“I’m just glad you are okay…” she whispered.

“You know what we always say, right? You know what I always promise you. You know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Repeat it, then.”

“Be fast, come back to me, I love you.”

“And I’m always fast, I always come back to you and I’ll always love you. Enough about me. Tell me about you, I feel like it’s been so log since we actually got a proper talk.”

“That’s because every time we’re on FaceTime your mind is always elsewhere but never on me.”

“I’m sorry about that. It’s just… this start of the season is already a lot…”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want to add to your problems or your stress.”

“You know you’ll never. So, how’s the shoot.”

“I’ve known better if I’m being honest. Don’t get me wrong, I love the movie and I trust Michael’s vision and you should see Adam Driver on set, he is magistral, but anyway. It’s a lot of pressure, a lot of work and it’s a range of emotions to portray that I’ve never done before. It’s exhausting. Fulfilling because I feel like I learn so much about myself, but hard and stressful. I can’t wait for you to get home… I... I just need you and your arms and your kisses… You. Only you.”

“And I’ll be all yours as soon as I stepped out of that plane, I promise you. Do you want to do something in particular for your birthday?”

“I want to do you. That’s it.” She jokingly said.

Charles was far from against the idea and if he was honest, it was something he was looking forward to. But he also knew how much his girlfriend loved her family and the place they occupied in her life. He wanted her to have a birthday to remember. And he wanted to be the person to give her that. His ego would feel flattered. After hanging up with Lyanna, he searched his contacts for Renée's phone number, which she had given him in case of emergency.

“Charles? You are the last person I expected a call from.” Lyanna’s mom greeted him after she picked up.

“Renée, hello. I hope you’re alright and I’m not bothering.”

“No, you don’t. Is everything okay with Lyanna? I’m assuming she is the reason why you call.”

“Yes, kind of… I wanted to ask you something.”

“If you are asking me for the permission to marry her, it’s a no. You still have to prove that you deserve her, young man.”

Charles was taken aback by the way she said it.

“Hum... well. I was not calling for that but it’s good to know… I guess? Hypothetically, if I wanted to ask you for permission, what should I do?”

“Don’t ignore her for starter. She told me what happened after your win in Bahrain. It didn’t make me happy to hear that, Charles. You promised me you would take care of her; I’m not asking you to be perfect, everyone is human and bound to make mistakes but… don’t play with her and her feelings. She went through enough.”

“I’ve already apologised to her, I kind of groveled if it can help. But anyway, it was not the reason of my call. I want to organize her a surprise birthday party and I was thinking of making you all fly out to Monaco to see her. It would make her so happy. And… I was also thinking that you all could meet my family since I wanted to invite them as well. Lyanna is close to them and I know my mom would be delighted to help to organize. She loves Lyanna.”

“Well… it’s very nice of you…”

“You don’t have to do anything. I can arrange a private jet and the hotel. You would just have to show up to the airport. Say yes, please. For Lya.”

Charles couldn't help jumping in joy and punching his fist in the air when Renée told him that she agreed and that she would take care of planning with the rest of the family. As soon as he had finished with his mother-in-law, he hurried off to phone his mother and explain his plans. Pascale was delighted and assured him that everything would be fine and that she would take care of everything. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and not reveal anything to the actress. So it was with great excitement that Charles set off the next day for Italy to meet up with his beloved.

Lyanna wasn't there when Charles arrived from the airport. He hadn't said exactly when he was coming back, wanting to surprise the young woman. On the way, he stopped at a florist and bought her a huge bouquet of red roses. He knew it wasn't original, but he didn't care. He took the time to put his things away and take a long hot shower before changing into comfortable clothes. He plugged his phone into the stereo in the living room before choosing an acoustic playlist to play in the background. When that was done, he settled into the sofa and closed his eyes, savouring the fact that he was home. Soon he heard a key turn in the lock and he sat up, ready to welcome Lyanna and shower her with kisses.

He had expected her magnificent smile to light up as soon as she saw him, but what he saw destabilised him. She was crying. And not just a little. Her glossy eyes found Charles and she burst into even more tears, if that were possible, before rushing into his arms and soaking his shirt.

“Love… Lya… Oh my god babe. Hey, talk to me.”

“I want to give up. I can’t go back there. I want to give up Charles” she was like a broken record repeating the same sentences again and again.

“Babe, come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.”

She pressed herself against Charles and wrapped her arms around his torso before burying her neck in his shoulder.

“I fucked up. We were supposed to shoot a scene and… and it was a hard one. It was about abuse. And…I freaked out. Something in me froze. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I got flashbacks from…” she shook her had as if she was trying to erase the memory. “And then everyone was staring at me, Michael wanted me to redo the whole scene from the top but I couldn’t Charles. I couldn’t. I ran away. I said that I couldn’t do it anymore and I left. They are going to be so mad. So mad. But I couldn’t stay there, I felt like I was drowning and I couldn’t breathe. It scared me.” She was rambling and Charles hugged her even tighter, kissing her forehead.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here, Lya, I’m here…”

“I’m so thankful you’re here. I thought you were coming back later and I would be alone and I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

He let her cry against him until she finally fell asleep, exhausted. He carried her to their bedroom and laid her on their bed. She tossed and turned, seeking the warmth of Charles' body. He joined her shortly afterwards and, naturally, she found herself back in his arms.

When Charles woke up a little later, it was still dark. The jet lag was beginning to wear on him, even though he was usually rather proud of the way he handled it. Lyanna hadn't moved an inch; she was still snuggled comfortably in his arms, her legs intertwined with his. Instinctively, he pulled her even closer to him and placed his lips on the top of her head. He didn't want to move, he felt good, peaceful. But a pang of worry pierced his heart. He couldn't help wondering how the young woman would be when she woke up.

With a gesture, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and looked at the time.  Barely five in the morning. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and that he risked waking Lyanna at any moment, who needed sleep so badly. He got up carefully and put on his workout clothes. His building had a gym, which was handy for him. He grabbed his airpods and left the room, then the flat, without a sound.

He returned an hour later, but not before stopping off at a café to pick up a takeaway breakfast for Lyanna and himself. He could hear the water running in the bathroom, which told him that Lyanna was awake, which was reassuring. He set the table, taking care to display the bouquet he'd bought the day before, which he hadn't had the chance to offer properly. Soon, the young woman's silhouette appeared in the doorway and it was a weary smile that Charles received when she saw him.

“How do you feel?” he asked her as he took her in his arms and gave her a light peck on the lips.

“Like shit. I’m supposed to be on the set in two hours… I don’t want to go…” she smiled gently at him as she saw the flowers on the table and inhaled the scent.

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“Actually… do you want to come with me today?”

Charles was used to cameras, but he had to admit that a film set was a very different environment from what he knew on a day-to-day basis. Lyanna didn't have to worry about a thing; as soon as she arrived, the director rushed over to her and asked if she was alright. Lyanna briefly explained how she had felt, without going into detail, and apologised profusely, which Michael Mann brushed aside with a wave of his hand.

Charles had spent many hours sitting in a corner in silence, admiring Lyanna as she worked. Seeing her in her element, confident and in control of every detail, giving her opinion, chatting and laughing with the other cast members, made him fall a little more in love with her. As soon as she could, she checked on Charles and made sure to introduce him to everyone, so that by lunchtime everyone knew Charles' name and knew that he was Lyanna's boyfriend.

Lyanna was free by mid-afternoon and wasn't needed on set until the end of the week, which was perfect for Charles as it would allow them to get back to Monaco where Lyanna's birthday was being held. Pascale had booked the same room where Charles had celebrated his birthday a few months earlier, and the orchestra and caterer had also been rebooked. Lyanna's family and friends were due to arrive the day before and Joris, Arthur and Lorenzo had been asked to drive everyone to the hotel. This way, Charles could take full advantage of his girlfriend without her suspecting anything.

On the morning of his birthday, Lyanna was the first to wake up and it was she who woke Charles up by placing light kisses on his stubble, his neck and then down his chest.

“Hey, you.” whispered Charles in a sleepy voice.

“Good morning, babe.” Lyanna replied with a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.”

“Indeed. Do you know why?”

“I have an idea but please enlighten me.”

“It’s my birthday and you’re home and that means I have you to myself and let me tell you that I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

“Oh yeah? And what did you plan?”

“Oh so, so many things that don’t require for us to leave this bed.”

And true to her word, they stayed in bed all day. Lyanna ignored the messages and calls she received on her birthday, her family playing along with the idea that they were far away, when in reality they were only a few streets away from Charles's flat.

At the end of the day, and not without some difficulty, Charles managed to persuade Lyanna to get out of bed and go celebrate her birthday somewhere quiet and out of sight, just the two of them. He hated having to lie to her, but he hoped her reaction would be worth it. Lyanna pouted, unenthusiastic about the idea of going out.

“Lya, I made reservations and I really can’t cancel…”

“But I didn’t want to go out… I just want to be with you.”

“You got me all to yourself the whole day. You barely let me out of the bed to eat.”

“I didn’t hear you complain though…”

“Oh believe me, I’m not. It’s just that I want to spoil my girlfriend for her birthday and I want to please her because she deserves it. So let’s go out.”

“I must say that you did a really good job pleasing me the whole day and you can keep doing it without us having to leave the flat. It’s very convenient, it doesn’t require you to move and it’s completely free. No need to spend a penny on me. See, I’m really low maintenance.”

“I’m going to drag you out of here if I need to.”

“Can’t you just tell them that we will be going tomorrow?”

“We both need some fresh air. It will do us good.”

She continued to complain, but realising that Charles would not give in, she headed for the bathroom.

“I’m letting the door open, if you want to join me.”

“Lya, we can’t afford to be late and we both know that if I’m stepping even just a toe in this bathroom we will be very, very late.”

“You’re loss Leclerc, then.”

Charles shook his head and slipped out of the room, not wanting to be tempted more than necessary. He checked his messages nervously, his mother keeping him regularly informed of the evening's progress. He decided to call her to find out exactly how it was all shaping up rather than read the dozens of messages he had received throughout the day.

“Hey mom. How is going?”

“You would know if you were answering my texts! You really choose the right day to go full radio silence. Everyone is here, Charles. Where are you, guys?”

“On our way, don’t worry. We will be there in no time.”

“You haven’t left your place, did you?” it was not really a question, just a fact and Charles could almost picture his mom rolling her eyes.

“We’ve been a little bit carried away but don’t worry the situation is under control…”

“You had one job Charles, just to arrive on time.”

“Well, it was harder than expected…”

“What is hard? Because I sure can help with that.” Lyanna was just behind him completely oblivious to the fact that he was on the phone with his mom.

“There are some things that a mom doesn’t need to know. I’m going to leave you but please for the love of god, be quick.”

“I’ll try. I promise.” He hung up the phone and eyes his girlfriend. “My mom heard you and I think next time you’ll see her she is going to look at you in a very different way.”

“I’m sorry… but admit it, it’s funny. Just a little bit.”

“Having my mom knowing about our sex life is something funny to you?”

“Come on Charles, she is not stupid, she knows that you are not a sweet and pure and innocent little angel.”

“Of course! It doesn’t mean that she has to hear things!”

“She will be fine! What did she want, by the way?”

“Just to invite us for lunch tomorrow. Up for it?”

Charles was amazed at how easily lies slipped out of him.

Eventually they arrived outside the hotel where the birthday party was being held. Lyanna winced, quickly realising that Charles was not taking her to the quiet, intimate, relaxed place he had led her to believe.

“What did you do, Leclerc?”

“Spoiling my girlfriend. Come on, let’s get in.”

He got out of the car, handing his keys to the attendant as another employee opened Lyanna's door. Charles hurried to her side and offered her his hand, which she accepted.

She glanced suspiciously at Charles, who winked at her and smiled broadly. As soon as they entered the hotel lobby, they were directed to the private room, which Lyanna recognised. And that's when she saw them. All her family, her close friends and Sophia were there too. She was surprised to see Charles's family there too, along with Pierre and Kika, who had also travelled for the occasion. She even recognised Fred. She questioned Charles, who replied that his team principal had taken a liking to her, especially as he thought she was the reason why Charles was performing so well in this early part of the season. Emotion suddenly took hold of her and she felt tears welling up. Her mother was the first to come forward and give her a hug, soon to be joined by her best friend Emilie.

Charles gave them some space and went to talk to the other guests. The evening passed quickly and Charles could only feel his heart swell with joy at the happiness emanating from his girlfriend. She went from guest to guest, laughing, chatting and dancing. Just as he had found a quiet spot, Emilie came to join him.

“Charles Leclerc, finally I’m meeting you.”

“Emilie, right? Lya told me a lot about you.”

“It goes both ways. You are all she talks about when I have her on the phone… I feel like I know you without actually knowing you. Which is weird.”

She sipped her glass of champagne and sighed.

“I’m going to be honest if you don’t mind. Lya is my best friend, I might even dare to say she is the sister I’ve never had which is why I often feel the need to protect her. So don’t take it personally, but I made research on you.”

Charles almost choked on his drink.

“I found things that made me questioned your true motives with her. You don’t have the nicest dating history to be fair. I’ve got scared for her. Athletes don’t have the best reputation in terms of being faithful… But you make her happy, everyone can see that, even I. And I can see that you love her as well, not everyone would go out of their way to do something like that to someone if there were no real and deep feelings involved.  I still don’t like you. But for now I’m going to tolerate you. But I’m watching you. One dick move and I will hunt you down.”

“Copy. Right and clear. But don’t worry, I intend to keep her for a very, very long time.”

As the evening wore on, he found Lyanna eating a piece of cake. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with excitement.

“I’m glad you made me leave the bed in the end…”

“See, I have good ideas sometimes.”

“Thank you, Charles. For everything.” She said seriously.

Charles put an arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple. She nestled a little closer to him and they enjoyed a brief moment of peace before returning to the guests. Lyanna stopped suddenly and tugged at Charles's sleeve before pointing to a corner of the room.

“Charles, do you see what I’m seeing?”

“Hum, well… your mom talking to Fred? Why? What’s wrong?”

“My mom is not talking! She is giggling Charles! Giggling! With Fred! They are so flirting.”

“Fred is single, your mom is too. If they can have some fun, good for them.”

“It’s my mom and technically your boss we are talking about!”

Charles paused.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s weird. Imagine they actually get together, the kind of family reunions we could have! Do you think that would mean your mom would come at the Grand Prix?”

“I don’t want to imagine!”

“It would sure be fun and interesting! You could have Fred as a stepfather!”

“Shut up!”

Charles laughed and wrapped his arms around her as Lyanna groaned in protest.

Soon it was time for everyone to say goodbye. Lyanna thanked them for the surprise and soon left with Charles.

“Well, I’d say that your family and my family got on really well. That’s amazing. No awkward family reunions in sight.”

“Yeah… I can’t believe you did that for me. I mean, I can believe it because you prove me everyday how much you love me but… for you to actually take the time to organise that… it blows my mind.”

“Shout out to my mom who actually did most of the job. I really just had to get you there in time and I failed. But really, it was nothing. I know how much stressed you’ve been under lately and how much your family means to you; it was normal for me to do that. It was not much.”

“I love you so much, Charles. I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”

She placed a kiss on his cheek as Charles kept his eyes on the road before sliding a hand onto her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

=======

author's note: I love this chapter so much despite how long it is lmao 😂 As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story. taglist @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard If you are tagged but did not receive any notifications, please check your settings because it means that Tumblr didn't let me tag you.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

i don’t think you notice (what you did to me) [b.h]

seven. | thankful

Billy Hargrove ✘ Win Lewis (ofc)

⇾ w.c. 4.4k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, neil's a grade A asshole, allusions to abuse, though none is explicitly shown in this chapter, smut, angry sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, billy is bad with emotions ⇾ a/n. i know i'm completely warping the timeline of season two, but i wanted more time for win and billy to get to know each other before the events in The Gate happen

[ masterlist ] [ win lewis bio ]

“So, Win, got any plans for Thanksgiving?” Max asked as she slipped into the backseat of the Camaro, skateboard in hand.  

“Oh shit, that’s tomorrow isn’t it?” Win murmured, her lips twisting slightly.  “Uh, no, not really,” she admitted.  “My dad has to work, so I’ll probably get some Chinese takeout or something and veg in front of the tv,” she said with a shrug, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.  She felt Billy’s eyes on her as he drove down the deserted country road, but he didn’t say anything.

“You’re kidding,” Max huffed.  “That’s so lame.”

Win shrugged, glancing out the window.  “It’s fine,” she said, brushing off Max’s concern.  The last thing she wanted was anyone’s pity.  She’d been left on her own for most of her life since her mom’s death.  She was used to it.

“Billy, you should invite Win to our Thanksgiving dinner,” Max suggested, speaking up after a moment, and Win could see the silent battle of wills taking place through the rear view mirror–Billy glaring back at Max, who didn’t back down, glaring right back at him.

“You don’t seriously want your girlfriend to spend the holiday on her own, do you?” Max insisted and Billy scowled, pulling up to the curb of the arcade.

“I’ll be back in an hour.  You better be here,” he said instead, his voice gruff.

“Yeah, yeah, or I’ll have to skate home,” Max muttered, rolling her eyes before shooting Win a sympathetic glance, flipping Billy the bird as he pulled away, peeling out of the parking lot.

Finally alone in the car, neither of them spoke, both seeming unable to break the silence.

“You really don't want me to come to dinner?” Win finally murmured, her eyes flitting to Billy, hating how insecure she felt.

“I just don’t think it would be a good idea,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.  His brusque answer felt like a slap in the face.

“Are you embarrassed of me?” she asked, bile rising in her throat, her thoughts beginning to spiral–she knew he was a playboy, why did she think he’d actually be serious about her?

“What?  No!” Billy exclaimed, stomping on the brakes and pulling to the side of the road so he could look at her, a conflicted expression crossing his face.  He paused, taking a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself before he spoke, not wanting to snap at her.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there,” Billy exclaimed, his gaze slipping, not quite meeting Win’s eyes.  “It’s just that, if you haven’t figured it out yet, my dad’s a grade-A fuckin’ asshole and I don’t want you to have to deal with that,” he explained, tensing, as if waiting for Win to tell him off, and shame filled her.

“Shit,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she silently berated herself for jumping to conclusions.  “I’m sorry, Billy,” she murmured, heaving a breath as her eyes found his. “I don’t care how big of a dick he is, I wanna spend the holiday with you,” she assured him softly.  “I can handle myself.”

Billy let out a doubtful huff, but he didn’t argue, placing his hand atop hers as a hopeful look flickered in his eyes, gone the next moment.

Throwing the car back in drive, he pulled back out onto the road.  “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered.

The next morning, Win paced as she waited for Billy to arrive to pick her up.  Her father had already left by the time she woke, leaving a note for her on the counter, promising to be home as soon as he was able, though Win wasn’t about to hold her breath for that.

When she heard the snarl of the Camaro’s engine in the drive, she pushed open the front door and slipped into the leather seat.  Billy raised an eyebrow at the sight of her and her knee length black collared dress, her short platinum hair pulled up halfway.

“What?” she asked, noticing his expression.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly.  “You look nice, is all,” he added, backing out onto the road, his hand enveloping her bare knee.  

“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” Win observed, warmed by his touch.  “You even managed to button your shirt up most of the way,” she teased and Billy stuck his tongue out at her, his hand on her leg tightening, giving her a warning squeeze.

However, the closer they got to Cherry Street, the grimmer Billy’s expression grew, his apprehension bleeding into Win.  By the time he parked in front of the house, all trace of his grin had disappeared and he reluctantly got out of the car.

“Hey, it’s gunna be alright, I promise,” Win insisted as they walked up the sidewalk together, stopping at the front stoop.

“Yeah,” Billy agreed, though he seemed distracted.

Win smiled encouragingly, taking his hand in hers as she raised up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek.  Billy’s expression softened and he turned his face to steal a kiss, grinning down at her before pushing the door open.

Inside, the warm smell of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie met them and Win took a deep breath, inhaling the nostalgic scent.  Billy’s dad sat on the couch, watching the football game, a can of beer in hand, and Win gave him a cursory glance.

Neil Hargrove was the definition of straight laced, his appearance neat and tailored, everything in place.  Billy had told her that he worked as a security guard, and with his mustache, Win would have probably guessed it–that or a cop.  There was nothing soft about the man, and when he turned his stern gaze on her, she felt like she was being sized up.

Before Billy could pull Win to his room, Neil spoke up, stopping his son in his tracks.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?  Don’t be rude, come back here and introduce your girlfriend,” he snapped and Win could instantly see the shift in Billy’s demeanor–the way his shoulders hunched slightly and his jaw flexed, setting in resignation as he stared ahead flatly.

“I want to meet this girl you’ve been staying out all night with.”

At his words, a sinking feeling opened in the pit of Win’s stomach, making her wonder just how much that night together had cost Billy.

“Win, this is… my dad, Neil.  Dad, this is Win.  Win Lewis,” Billy said haltingly, as if the words were being pulled from him, reluctant even to call the man his father.

“Nice to meet you,” Win said, flashing him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re not what I expected,” Neil mused, returning her smile, though his too held no warmth.

Win wanted to ask what exactly he expected, but she held her tongue, determined to be civil, at least for Billy’s sake.

“So, Susan tells me your father’s working today?” Neil continued, glancing between her and the television when one of the teams scored.

“Yeah, he works at Hawkins Lab.  They’re really busy right now, I guess,” Win murmured and Neil nodded.  

“Sounds like he’s working hard, like any good American should,” he exclaimed and Win had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yeah well, he should at least get to spend the day with his kid,” Billy grumbled, slipping his arm around Win’s waist protectively.

Neil’s eyes flashed.  “Sometimes when you’re an adult you have to make sacrifices, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that,” he said pointedly, his voice dangerously low and Win felt Billy tense next to her.

Thankfully, it was then that Susan appeared, stepping out of the kitchen to greet Win.

“I thought I heard voices out here,” she said, carefully keeping her eyes away from her husband as she crossed the room to wrap Win in an awkward hug.  “I’m so sorry your father had to work today, but you are always welcome here,” she insisted, pulling back to smile warmly at Win.

“Thank you,” Win murmured, ducking her head.  “It smells really good,” she added, which made Susan’s smile grow.

“It’s not quite finished yet, another half hour or so,” she said quickly and Win followed her further inside, grateful to get away from Neil.

“Do you need any help?” Win asked, ignoring Billy’s sharp sidelong look.

Mrs. Hargrove, however, practically gaped at Win, completely taken aback by her offer before finding the words to respond.  “You’re so sweet for asking, but it’s fine, really.  Besides, you’re our guest, you shouldn’t be put to work,” she exclaimed, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I don’t mind,” Win insisted with a shrug.  “I feel kinda bad I didn’t bring anything.”

Billy snorted, amused at the thought.  “That’s probably a good thing,” he teased under his breath, hastily avoiding Win’s elbow as she tried to jab him in the side, her lips twitching into a grin despite herself.

“It’s fine,” Susan assured her.  “Though, I suppose if you really want to help, there’ll be plenty of dishes to wash after dinner.”

Win nodded before Billy pulled her away, growing too impatient.

“Hey Max,” Win greeted, sticking her head around the younger girl’s open bedroom door as they passed.

“Hey Win,” Max called back, looking up from the comic book spread open on her bed.

Win didn’t have time to say more before Billy was yanking her to his room and she let herself be led.  This time when he pushed open his door she noticed a small latch fastened to the top corner of the outside of his door and the implication behind its presence was clear. Win wondered how many times Neil had locked Billy inside his room and her stomach knotted at the thought.

Once they were inside, Billy quickly shut the door and strode to his bed, plopping down unceremoniously.

“You okay?” Win asked, joining him on the edge of the bed.

Billy let out a long breath.  “Yeah, m’fine,” he finally muttered, his voice gruff, like talking about it at all made him uncomfortable.  “Sorry for my dad’s behavior, he’s such an asshole,” he growled, shaking his head, and Win gently placed her hand on his arm.

“It’s fine, I was expecting it,” she murmured, the question she wanted to ask waiting on the tip of her tongue as she deliberated it.  Wetting her lips, she decided to just ask, her lungs burning the longer she held it in.  

“What happened after that night that you stayed over?  How much trouble did you get in?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment and at first Win thought Billy was just going to ignore it.

“Nothing.  Nothing happened,” he finally replied, eyes staring straight ahead, his voice clipped and hard, as if it took all his effort to keep it under control.

“Billy…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped and Win pulled back, dropping the subject, her heart in her throat.

After a moment Billy glanced over, his expression conflicted, as if he wanted to say something, but before he could open his mouth, his father’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Billy, Maxine!  Come set the table!”

Billy’s jaw flexed in annoyance, but he pushed up off the bed.  “C’mon, it’s almost time to eat,” he said, holding out his hand to help Win up, the gesture as much of an olive branch as he could give at the moment, and Win took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

They met Max in the hallway and filed into the cramped kitchen to grab the plates and silverware while Susan dished all the food into serving trays and bowls for the table.  Once the table was set and the food all brought out, Neil made his way in to cut the turkey, taking his place at the head of the table.  In the other room the television babbled to itself, the game still playing in the background.

“Everything looks amazing, Mrs. Hargrove,” Win said as the side dishes passed around the table and everyone took what they wanted.

“Thank you, Win, that’s very sweet of you to say,” Susan replied, practically beaming, and Max piped up as well, echoing Win.

“Yeah, Mom, really good.”

Neil didn’t glance up from the turkey, but his words were clearly meant for Max.  “You could’ve helped your mother more.  Sooner or later, you’re going to have to know how to do this.”

Max’s face tightened, but she merely looked down at her plate, biting back the comeback she wanted to hurl.

Once the turkey was sliced, it too circled the table and Win speared a piece with her fork, getting it halfway to her mouth when Neil cleared his throat.

“Shall we say Grace?” he murmured and Win quickly dropped her fork, awkwardly folding her hands like the others with the exception of Billy who rolled his eyes when his dad wasn’t looking.  

Not really paying attention while Mr. Hargrove prayed, Win shared a secret look with Billy, thinking it was awfully ironic that Neil was leading them in prayer, projecting this wholesome family man image when really he was the biggest bully of all.

When he finished, Win quickly shut her eyes, opening them with the others, as if they’d been closed the entire time.  Neil didn’t say anything, but it seemed his first bite was the actual official cue for everyone to start eating.

Win’s mouth was full when he suddenly directed a question her way.  

“So, Win,” he began, placing a strange emphasis on her name.  “That’s an unusual name,” he mused, seeming to veer off from his original question.  “Is that short for something?”

Win nearly choked as she swallowed to answer, clearing her throat awkwardly as she stalled, wiping her mouth with her napkin.

“Uh, yeah, it’s short for Winrey.  My mum was British,” she explained.

“British.  Huh,” Neil grunted, taking a drink from his glass.  “Play any sports?  Cheerleading?” he asked, his gaze flicking to hers for a moment before focusing back on his plate.

“No, I’ve never really been all that athletic, except that time I tried gymnastics.  I’m more into music and cars,” she said, shooting a small grin at Billy who snorted softly and shook his head.

“Music and cars,” Neil repeated dryly and Billy’s grin vanished as quick as it had appeared.  “Sounds like you have a lot in common,” he said, his tone flat, as if he didn’t really think that was a good thing.  “Sounds like you found yourself a keeper, wonder how long it’ll last before you fuck it up,” he said, glancing at Billy as if just waiting for him to snap back.

Everyone at the table fell silent, their eyes dropping to their own plates, except for Win.  She stared incredulously back at Neil, taken aback by the bluntness of his comment.  Next to her, Billy’s jaw flexed and his grip on his fork tightened as he seethed in silence.

Win however, wasn’t as adept at biting her tongue, muttering the most smart-assed comment that sprang to her lips.  “Well if you can keep a wife…”

Neil’s eyes narrowed at her across the table as he chewed slowly.  “Excuse me?” 

“Oh!  Who wants pie?” Susan exclaimed quickly, jumping to her feet.

“I do!” Max said, latching onto the distraction.

“Neil?  Honey?” Susan asked pointedly and he finally tore his gaze from Win, turning his attention to his wife and nodding.

Win ducked her head as she ate, grinning to herself.

Susan returned moments later with the pie and dinner resumed without any further conversation directed at Win or Billy.  Neil, for the most part, ignored them to go on about how great Reagan was for America.

By the time dinner wound down, Win was ready to slip away with Billy, wanting to make sure he was alright, but before she got the chance, Susan asked if she minded helping with the dishes, and Win reluctantly agreed.  She had offered to help earlier, after all.

Standing next to Susan at the counter, she dried the plates as the other woman passed them to her.  

“It’s so nice having another woman in the house,” Mrs. Hargrove murmured, smiling softly to herself.  “Maxine’s not exactly the feminine type, so…” she trailed off and Win nodded in understanding.

“My mum died when I was about Max’s age,” Win admitted, looking down at the serving dish in her hands.  “I miss this kinda stuff too,” she murmured and Susan’s sad smile returned.

“You know,” she began, pausing nervously to glance around, as if making sure her husband wasn’t in earshot before continuing.  “I’m glad Billy met you,” she said quietly.  “I-I think you might be the best thing to happen to him in a long time.”

Win looked up at her and her shock must have shown on her face because Susan only nodded.  “You’re a good influence on him,” she insisted.

Win wanted to laugh.  Certainly that wasn’t true.  She felt, if anything, they were both bad influences, but of course she didn’t say so.

Once the dishes were all washed and dried, Win went in search of Billy, but his bedroom was empty.

“He’s out in the garage with Neil,” Max said, watching Win from her door.

“Oh,” Win breathed, frowning, worried about what the two men could be talking about.

“What do you see in him?”

Max’s question took Win off guard and for a moment she merely blinked at the redhead, trying to think.  “I-I dunno,” she spluttered, her brows pinching further. "I mean, I know he can be kind of a jerk–"

"Kind of?" Max scoffed, interjecting.

“Yeah, okay, more than kind of,” Win agreed begrudgingly.  “But I guess there’s more to him than meets the eye,” she continued, shrugging.  “I know that’s hella cliche, but it’s true.”

Max eyed her and for a moment Win thought she was going to scoff at her again, but all she said was “maybe” with a shrug.

“When you first started going out, I thought you were too nice for him, but maybe you’re rubbing off on him.  Or maybe he actually really likes you,” she said.  “I’ve never seen him act like he does around you,” she added and Win’s lips tugged into a small grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and trust me, he’s been out with a lot of girls,” Max said, wincing as soon as the words were out of her mouth.  “I mean, you know,” she added, her freckled cheeks flushing before she quickly shook her head.  “But I don���t think he’s ever actually dated anyone before,” she admitted and the thought that she was somehow more special than the others made Win’s stomach flutter.

“Anyway, I hope Neil’s wrong and you guys stay together.  Billy’s not as terrible when you’re around,” Max said, sharing a small smile with Win before the garage door slammed open and Billy strode back inside, his expression tense.

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said brusquely, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

“Uh, okay–” Win began, but Billy was already heading impatiently for the front door.

“I wrapped up some leftovers for you to take home for your father,” Susan offered, coming out of the kitchen with a plastic bag full of aluminum foil parcels.

“Thank you, he’ll appreciate this,” Win murmured, accepting the bag.  “Uh, thank you again for dinner,” she said hastily, nodding to Susan and Max, who lingered in the hallway.

“It was our pleasure,” Susan called after her as Win followed Billy.  

Outside, the sun was slipping toward the horizon, casting the darkening sky in an orange hue as the wind picked up, blowing several dry leaves past their ankles.

“Hey, you okay?” Win asked, jogging to keep up, but Billy didn’t answer, slipping behind the wheel and slamming the door shut.  Win joined him in the car, her brows furrowing with worry.  “Billy,” she tried again, firmer.  “Did something happen?”

Billy started the engine, keeping his eyes on the road.  “It’s nothing,” he said, finally glancing over at her, a tightness around his eyes as if he were fighting to keep something in, to keep his mask in place.

“It’s not nothing,” Win said gently, placing her hand on his arm and Billy tensed.  

“I said it’s fine,” he insisted, gruffer than intended, but Win didn’t pull away.  

“I’m sorry,” she murmured and Billy snorted, the sound harsh in the quiet car; he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio.

“I told you my dad would be an asshole,” he mumbled, tearing down the empty road.

“It really bothered you, what he said about us,” Win ventured, though it was less of a question and more an observation, and Billy’s expression tightened further, his lips pursing angrily.  “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about–” Win began, her words cutting off as he suddenly veered off the road and threw the Camaro in park.

“He doesn’t know shit,” Billy growled, leaning across the center console, his lips colliding with hers as his hand slipped behind her head, holding her in place as he kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth.  “I need you,” he groaned, raw desperation lacing his deep voice, usually so velvety smooth and coated in honey.  “Need you so fucking bad.”

Win gasped, her head spinning at the intensity behind his bruising kisses, all teeth and tongue, as if he wanted to devour her.  Once she caught her breath, she kissed him back just as fiercely, grabbing hold of his jacket and moaning into his mouth as his hand slipped between her thighs, his thumb pressing circles against her clothed clit, sending heat rushing through her.

“Get in the back seat,” he commanded, nipping hard at her bottom lip before pulling back and unbuckling, throwing open his door.

Gasping at the sudden disappearance of his lips, it took a second for Win’s brain to catch up and she hastily followed suit.  Billy was already around the car by the time she stood and he opened the back door, his mouth hot on hers as he guided her, lowering her back onto the seat. 

Reaching under her dress, he tugged her panties down impatiently, freeing them from her legs before straightening to unzip his pants and free his throbbing cock, a desperation to his movements.

“Billy—!” Win yelped breathlessly as he yanked her to the edge of the seat and pulled her legs apart, bullying his tip between her folds and rutting into her.  “Oh—“ she gasped as he sheathed her, waiting only a moment for her to adjust before he was pumping into her, his thrusts sharp and frantic. 

“Oh fuck—“ she groaned, bracing herself with her arms, her entire body jolting with each desperate snap of his hips, the air filling with the lewd smack of skin against skin and Billy’s labored pants.

“Want you to cum,” he growled, freeing one hand to once more thumb her clit, gathering her wetness on the pad of his finger so it would glide over her delicate nub easily, sending electricity shooting through her.  “Cum for me, Win,” he grunted, the words a harsh plea, as he fucked her into the seat, and she had no choice but to obey, the tightly coiled spring of pleasure snapping at his relentless assault on her clit. 

“Fuck—BILLY!” she wailed, cumming hard, her orgasm hitting her like a train, but Billy didn’t stop, fucking her through it til his hips stuttered, bottoming out as he filled her, his chest heaving as he emptied himself deep inside.

For a moment neither of them spoke, too dazed to formulate words, merely panting hard to catch their breaths.  Billy pulled free, hastily tucking himself back into his tight jeans before grabbing her discarded panties and slipping them back up her legs, helping her to stand.

Before she could speak, he pulled her into his arms, holding her to him tightly, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“M’sorry,” he murmured hoarsely, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check and not quite succeeding.

“I’m glad you were there,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.  “It made today… bearable.”

Win buried her face against his chest with a sigh, the tension from before leeching away.  “I’m glad I was there too,” she whispered back, warm tears catching in her lashes.

“C’mon, I better get you home,” he said reluctantly, clearing his throat, and Win nodded against his chest.

––

“I’ll call you later,” Win murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss before opening the car door and slipping out, grabbing the bag of leftovers.

Billy nodded, giving her a wave as he backed out of the drive, leaving her standing in there as the sun disappeared completely below the horizon.  Win watched the Camaro slip away into the night before turning toward her house.  Her dad’s car was parked in the drive and several lights burned inside.  She wondered how long he’d been home.

“Hey,” she greeted as she opened the door, finding him standing listlessly by the counter.  David’s head snapped up as she came in. 

“I’m so sorry—“ he began, but Win shook her head fiercely, cutting him off.

“You’re here now,” she said, rounding the counter to embrace him, her chest tight.

“Did you have a nice time at… Billy’s?” he asked, still struggling to say his name without any vitriol and Win snorted, pulling away to open the leftovers and fix them both a plate.

“Yeah, it was alright,” she said.  “His stepmom sent some food home for you.”

“That was nice,” David mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair as he watched Win plate the food.

“They nice people?” he asked and Win shrugged.

“His stepmom and stepsister are,” she answered, biting her lip.  She wanted to tell her dad everything—about Neil’s abuse and the way his family walked on eggshells around him, about how Billy shrank in on himself, flinching at nothing more than a sharp look or word from his father, but she hesitated.  What good would it do?  What could her dad even do about it?  And how would Billy react?  His embarrassment at the situation was obvious.  Would telling her father just make things worse?

David frowned at Win’s sudden silence.  “You okay?” he asked, ducking his head to peer at her suspiciously.

“Y-yeah, I was just… thinking,” she replied disjointedly, quickly clearing her throat and throwing one plate in the microwave.

“I’m gunna change, I’ll be right back,” she said, retreating to her room.  Once she pressed her back to the door, she let her frustrated tears fall.

⇾ taglist. @b1tchywheeler @super-unpredictable98 @santacarlahorrorshow @oliver-sykes @wherethewitchersare @elliethesuperfruitlover

[collectivecloseness]

I have this angsty mess of ideas that I don't know how to put together but I'm gonna try to explain it. So like Steve has been in love with you since like forever and you become friends in season one blah blah blah you're inseparable etc, you have the tendency saving Steve's ass everytime but then you die while saving him and steve never got the chance to confess (not really that important but I guess it adds emotional damage idk) he obviously blames himself for it and everytime his phone rings he answers with the hope that for some fucked up reasons it's you and you're actually still alive but stuck in the upside down. Everyone is concerned about him bc it feels like he's slowly going crazy and is very much delusional.

Idk if that's like very long or makes no sense at all so sorry in advance, your eyes must be bleeding after reading this. :/

Robin being the one to always check on Steve after he loses you. She knew what you meant to Steve, most shifts mentioned you, and your recent interactions with Steve, most nights were him- were the both of them, talking on the phone about you. She loved the whole will they won’t they, and the puppy love gossip with Steve. Now she wished she’d pushed more, at least Steve would feel better if you’d known.

Robin’s learnt to be more open and vulnerable, since she’s been the one to look after Steve, being emotional and like a true friend, rather than snarky and quippy and teasing with him. She’s always coming in to check on him with her key to his house, pressing her hand on his shoulders each time she says hi, unless she’s rushing to comfort him again.

Robin tells him a few times “You know I said I can move in, or we could both move to our own place! I’m lonely! Besides, I love spending time with my best friend.” Robin’s been encouraging it. Her and Steve had breiefly passed the ideas before, before you, but she got the feeling back then they both badly would have liked it, living together, but neither wanted to be the first to come on too strong and vulnerable. It was different now. And Robin really didn’t want Steve to be lonely either. Besides, Robin came over to Steve’s literally every day she could anyway.

But to Steve, Robin wasn’t you. He still loves Robin, as her own person and his friend, he doesn’t compare you two at all. But Steve worried the constant company might make him go crazier than he already feels. It also wouldn’t allow for any of his unhealthier coping mechanisms. Steve would argue in his head, even crying or screaming himself to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to do anymore, but he’d done that in front of some of his friends anyways.

Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Dustin, all of his friends all worried about him. Max, Lucas and El had come over yesterday. Joyce makes sure to drop by a couple of times a week at least. Robin came every day, while the others did sometimes, varying in frequency. They knew Steve wasn’t healthy.

Sometimes, Steve whipped his head to the side, out of nowhere, or maybe with a small sound one of them picked up, from years of fear of monsters from other dimensions. But they knew it wasn’t Steve being scared of bumps in the night. It was because he thought he may have heard you. It was a glimmer of hope, just for a second, and they hated seeing it shatter each time.

Steve did worry about bumps in the night too. Steve worried about the next time he’d have to fight, no matter what it might be. Because this time, no one would come to save him.

You were always the first to come for him. You specifically sought Steve out first, checked on him first, he was always your first choice, the one you always checked on, the one you’d always save. You were with Steve for all his fuck ups. You’d seen him grow, and he knows you’d never judged him for his past once he actually got better. Not once. No one else had done that. But you also made Steve better. And he was still scared he won’t be as much now, without you.

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure he really wanted anyone to save him next time. If the next time he dies saving the others, then whatever. He couldn’t save you. At least he could be with you then.

No one would be designated to check Steve first, to save him first, and that’s what he got. Steve always put himself in front of danger first, and now he’d lost you, there would be no one to save him. It was his price.

Steve wanted to go back straight after. He wanted to go back for you the next day, and the day after. To the place he’d left you. At the end of the week, he told Robin his plans, with his rucksack already on his back. And not only did she physically hold Steve to the floor, but she locked all the doors as she walkied Eddie and Nancy - not the kids, she knew when Steve was better, even now, he wouldn’t want the kids to see him like this - and Eddie had to bear hug Steve so he wouldn’t try to leave, while all of them gently tried to talk their friend down. They said it was a suicide mission! And that’s when Steve screamed “I DON’T CARE!” Trapped in his friends arms. Screaming those words not enough overemotionally, but too genuinely, that it really got them worried. Steve was still fighting to leave. He had collapsed into tears after that. He wanted to go and he meant it.

Nancy wanted to sedate him by that point, because she was too worried Steve would leave. But Robin put her foot down at that thought. It would create a super bad spiral, and Steve wouldn’t trust them, she knew they had to do something else! Luckily Robin thought of something. Mixed in with Steve’s yells at Eddie, Eddie trying to talk to Steve, and Nancy on edge and trying to not look as upset as she probably was while getting Robin to think of something else before she snapped.

Robin called the number she knew to, and soon afterwards, Joyce was entering Steve’s home with her own spare key. Joyce let Steve cry into her lap, and she stroked his back, talking when Steve wanted to, only lulling her own assurances when he didn’t, and just soothing Steve, until he fell asleep like that, in his room with her. Robin knew Steve wouldn’t fight Joyce to leave, or yell too much at her or anything. Steve had fallen asleep early in the afternoon, and Nancy didn’t even need to sedate him because he stayed asleep, luckily for the entire night. Joyce wouldn’t leave. She wanted to stay until morning, she didn’t want to leave Steve overnight, or at all right now.

Joyce even made breakfast the morning after, making sure to stay by Steve’s side because he’d always eat her cooking if she was there. And it was a sickly sweet feeling for everyone watching whenever that happened, because Steve would take a few bites and then finish his plate clean. But they knew he’d probably only had a few bites the day before, with how much he gorged on Joyce’s dishes when she was around to eat with him.

Robin stayed in bed with Steve most nights for sleepovers. That night Joyce had, which she’d done quite a few times. Nancy or Eddie had done it several times more, too. Sometimes Steve would say look, he really just wanted tonight alone. And if they trusted the way he said it, he got that. They understood sometimes he did need that. But Robin also hates leaving Steve alone, because she knows nights are worse for him (and in general as well). She didn’t want to be overbearing though, something friends when she was younger would stop being her friends for, but a trait she’d stopped shielding when she needed to be Steve’s open support. But to be honest, even if Steve couldn’t mourn as well if he wasn’t alone at night, those mostly seemed like mourning in the destructive ways.

Steve knew he was safe with Robin, or Nance, or Eddie, or Joyce there, from monsters, and from himself. Not that he was thinking of that last part, he was trying to convince them, but he wasn’t very good at stopping his brain from eating himself alive, because he didn’t feel like he wanted to stop. He wanted punishment.

At one point, after you’d died, Eddie had tried to give Steve something of yours, an item he got from your house when he went to visit your family. When he’d explored your now, forevermore, empty room. But Steve had a moment, and was mad that Eddie had ruined your shirt, forever tainting it with his smell, and his touch, and not leaving it the way you had the day you’d gone to meet Steve and the others. Steve had later apologised for freaking out on Eddie about it. Something Eddie casually waved his hand over, promising Steve never could be freaky, and saying it was okay, he was sorry too. Steve didn’t really want to think about anymore. That top still felt slightly tainted, no matter how ridiculous Steve knew it was. He just didn’t have much left of you, that was still untouched. That was yours, and had still last been touched, moved, adored, by you. So Robin didn’t bring Steve things from your house. She’d just tell him if she found something, if he wanted to look at it, or go over later. To which Steve would generally just nod at her.

Steve had had a few moments, but luckily, he’d had friends there every single time. No matter how different the moments were. If it was him spiralling, down dangerous paths for himself. Him accidentally spooking someone, maybe by lashing out, or just not having the energy to look after someone else, even if they were upset because of his crumbling. Including the ones, where Steve would adamantly deny the facts in front of him. It was like the first two days, Steve knew you were dead. And he always did, of course. The fact never left his soul. But after that things changed, and became slightly more of a purgatory, Steve always seemed even just a fraction hazy.

One time Robin had come back to Nancy crying, and Steve sobbing loud like a broken child on the floor. Steve had sworn it was you who had called. But he’d missed the call, running and slipping since he’d been in the shower when it rang. Nancy and Robin guessed he’d been thinking about you. And with a hand to his forehead between his wails on the floor, Robin knew he’d made the water too hot, again. Steve had tried to call back, but it wouldn’t work. And he yelled at Nancy for not picking up the phone, but that was only after she’d tried to gently remind him that it couldn’t be you. And then Steve had done everything to try and call back, almost breaking his phone till Nancy had wrestled it away from him. And when he realised he couldn’t, either call back, or call you, Robin hadn’t quite gotten through to him about it, Steve had collapsed into pained sobs, so distraught, and so unable to be taken out of his pain, that Nancy was sobbing too.

El had left inconsolable once, because Steve had asked multiples times if she could somehow contact you in the upside down. No one had realised, Steve had gotten El to agree one time, until she called Joyce crying because she couldn’t find you, and now she couldn’t get Steve to talk, he just had his head in his hands. But the next day, when El came to visit, with chocolates she always liked to give Steve since she heard they were good for making people happy, he’d apologised and she was herself quite easily again. Something Robin was very relieved with, knowing it would have wrecked Steve if he thought he’d hurt one of the kids.

Dustin had been turned away by Eddie before, on days Steve said he didn’t want to see anyone, which if he said that exactly, made people come over to check if he was okay. And on a day Steve wasn’t doing very well, and had Nancy and Robin bandaging his hands up because he’d punched a mirror, swearing he saw you in the reflection in a blink of his eye, and thinking for that split second maybe it was a gateway to the upside down. Although they were pretty relieved he realised that wasn’t the case straight away, no one wanted Dustin to see Steve like that, least of all Steve. But even Dustin’s visits, as the encouraging little brother, didn’t always bring a smile to Steve’s face, even a fake one he couldn’t muster. Some days, there was just little that could help.

Robin thought maybe Steve only sometimes thought this, even if there was a 0.5% chance always in the back of his head, that maybe, somehow, you were still alive somewhere. It wouldn’t matter where, because then Steve would find you. Robin wished more than anything they had your body, mostly for you, but also for Steve, and for all your friends and family. But she wasn’t going to risk anyone, to go on a suicide mission. And she didn’t want anyone else to leave Steve either. Steve wouldn’t always bring it up. But occasionally there’d be flare ups, where Steve would go on about how you could be out there. Robin was the one who’d decided she’d never flat out disagree with Steve if he got like that. He always needed one person he felt like he could always trust. So even though she never encouraged it, even if for the first week, and now she still had that 0.4% chance in the back of her mind, she’d more try to go through why Steve thought that, and be by his side as the others tried to explain.

But Robin felt at least slightly successful with every little breakthrough she and Steve had together. She was normally there for his, even if she wasn’t the one helping him get to that point anyways. But the biggest breakthrough came a night, where the day leading up to it had been pretty normal.

Keith had actually been very generous with bereavement leave for Steve, even indulging Robin every time Steve called the store in tears, panicking, and needing Robin back immediately. Today had been okay. None of them were good. But she’d come over about 9am, Eddie calling right before he knew she’d leave, to say he was dropping off McDonald’s breakfast for them both just before ten, because he had to go help his uncle with some errands today.

Robin had helped set out a fresh set of clothes for Steve, ones Nancy had left in a pile in his room yesterday afternoon when she’d been with him. Robin smiled at her little post it notes Nancy left around, for Steve, and for his friends around the house. But Robin setting out Steve’s clothes always helped kick him up just a notch enough to get out of bed and go shower. Eddie had stayed for fifteen minutes, and Steve had even watched this time as he and Robin threw hash browns off each other’s faces. Steve sometimes found it hard to watch, when other people were smiling. Robin had been really proud of him today.

Then Steve even picked out what they should have for lunch, and although Robin wasn’t sure Steve could exactly be craving a salad, she was still really happy he’d suggested something, and got to work on Nancy’s refrigerated Tupperware boxes and groceries. Nancy liked to cut things up when she had the time. Robin was pretty slow no matter what she had to cook, because otherwise she was clumsy, and no one liked to focus on something and leave Steve alone. Nancy probably chopped things up yesterday when Joyce came to visit Steve as well.

The one time Robin cut her finger when cooking for Steve with Eddie, Steve had had a full blown panic attack, but he also either thought it was your blood he was seeing, or remembered yours. Steve threw the knife to the side, grabbing Robin’s wrists and panicking, until she soothed him into remembering where he was, and who he was with, and that she was unharmed, and when Steve was back, Eddie could take him away for a second while Robin found the newly restocked first aid kit. The other times she’d hurt herself since, she’d hidden them from Steve’s sight very quickly.

Steve had picked between a variety of activities Robin suggested after lunch, and two person board and card games it had been. Everyone had been buying or donating games to the Harrington household, even the kids had been giving theirs over. So Steve never was bored of any of the games, and he could play them.

Hopper and Karen had actually both taught Steve how to play solitaire, when Mike and El had dropped off some more game to donate. A joke even Steve gave a breathy chuckle at when Eddie said there two people to explain the most famous one player game. But Robin was glad Steve might have something to do to take his mind off things when alone. She knew focusing could be hard sometimes right now for him, so she got that they both tried to explain the game. Also, Karen and Hopper did talk over each other quite a bit in explanation.

But after that, Robin had whipped something quick together for dinner, and Steve had stayed to talk with her in the kitchen the entire time. He even got out glasses and some soda. Even though Robin did most of the talking, Steve took part, which was good. But also, Steve liked talking with Robin. Because she’d talk so much, and be so passionate about what she was saying, he didn’t even need to say much to be part of the conversation, and it was something about his best friend he really appreciated at the moment, even though he used to joke about never getting a word in edgeways. Eddie was a bit the same.

Steve held the remote as they channel surfed, sitting on the couch together with their meals on their laps, since neither of them really liked the silence while eating, and Robin was pretty talked out after finishing her story in the kitchen.

But when Steve had flicked through two news channels, he froze as he immediately recognised the scene in front of him. It was from a romance film you loved, about two thirds of the way through. Steve recognised it from the first frame, from the first note of its score, as he turned over the channel.

Robin recognised it too, although she hadn’t watched it fully, and she hadn’t watched it nearly as many times as Steve had with you. She tried to keep her face blank as she looked to Steve, only a light questioning, curious expression, to see how he was feeling, before she let any of her own thoughts and feelings make him spiral. But Steve simply said “Gotta put something on, the food.” and picked up his fork, turning the volume up enough to cover any chewing sounds, like he’d done for Robin since the first time they watched tv and ate together. That had been long before he lost you.

Steve had finished quickly, but that was just a few scenes before the most important part of the romance film. The confession scene. And Steve was crying before it had even started.

Tears streamed down his face, the two leads finally starting to open up, and explain how they were really feeling. His eyes not even brown, but looking black, so big and red ridden, his cheeks drowned. Robin felt her heart hammering watching Steve crushed again, but she tried to be the best friend she possibly could, as she was always learning to now. Robin reached just a little for the remote on the coffee table, eyes questioning on Steve. But he turned to her and shook his head, so she leaned back and kept the movie on. Steve watched the film, as Robin watched both it and him. Scooting even closer, so their sides were pressed together, as Steve continued to cry. And then, even Robin was tearing up. Especially as the scene continued. And Robin wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist, her other holding his closest hip, and they both quietly sobbed watching the love confession scene, of your favourite romantic movie you’d watched a thousand times.

Just a scene you never got to live out in your young life. A scene Steve never gave you.

Steve turned to Robin as the couple shared their first kiss, the happy score coming on as the confession was over, it all goes well, and with the way Steve’s shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving, Robin knows he needs her. She immediately opens her arms, pulling Steve in who sobs heartily into her shoulder, all her shirts used to having snot and tears and spit on them now. And she cries too, quieter than Steve, but still all the same, as she rocks him, holding him close through his heart break, through his loss, through his pain, as Steve cries loud into his best friend.

Steve mumbles everything he’s said a thousand times over. How he’s lost you. How he needs you. How you can’t be gone. That Steve wants you. That you’re dead. And that word hits hard. That word took him a while to say, after the second day of screaming it.

And when Steve pulls back, and Robin holds him still, Steve looks deep into his best friends eyes, and he shakes as he tells her the one thing he still hasn’t said yet. “I loved them.”

And Robin rubs her hands up and down Steve’s arms, as she smiled so sadly, and wept so dearly. “I know.”

Steve hiccuped, and a small groan left him. Robin still smiling sadly, still stroking him. Steve looks down, but not a lot, and Robin can always tell Steve’s thoughts, even if it’s gotten harder now. Steve just wants to think.

“How did you?” He asks, sniffling, and swallowing.

Did you know too? Maybe if Robin knew... maybe you did too. Steve just wanted you to know. He should have given you that. But maybe if you knew... even if you didn’t feel the same way, maybe you knew somebody loved you, maybe you knew he saw you just like you did him, before you were stolen.

“Well first of all, you were very romantic, lover boy, always talking about them, always filling the world with your golden thoughts about them.”

Steve liked the way Robin spoke. He thought maybe she’d picked some stuff up from Eddie too. Even knowing his loving thoughts about you had been spoken into the world you’d been living in... even if it wasn’t the one your body was in now, it gave him just a flicker of hope. A bite less of guilt.

“And...” Robin faltered now. He hands falling to Steve’s wrists, and he looked up more inquisitive now.

“And they talked about their crush on you. It’d only been a couple of days before... into the whole upside down thing. Otherwise I’d have manoeuvred you two into each other as soon as I knew, even if I had to trick you and lock you dinguses in a room or something. But that’s all y/n talked about those days.

Steve sucked in air. People didn’t say your name much anymore. Probably scared of his reaction, but Steve missed it. He needed people to bring you up, to remember you, to say your name.

“All they talked about was how they’d been in love with you for years, but recently it was too much to bear, and they just had to tell you. I told them to go for it, that I thought you might realllly like them back! But, y/n wanted to wait to tell you after we saved the world.”

Robin looked up at Steve. He was still crying, and she was joining him again. Her hands squeezed his wrists, and Steve’s knees turned to face Robin those few centimetres more, leaning warmly against her own. “And I agreed. And I wanted to wait until you brought it up again. Until you said again, that you loved them, like you used to tell me every day.”

Robin had hoped it would be less painful that way. While Steve wished it had been you he’d been telling it to every day instead.

“And... was it the right thing to do?” Robin gasps for air with her sob, shaking under Steve now.

And his breaths were gasping, his best friends starting to mirror, as his head shook up and down. “Yeah... it was.”

Robin threw her arms around Steve again, and he moaned as he held her back, so so tightly. Gripping onto Robin’s shoulders like he’d never have to let go again, as Robin nearly scrambled on top of his legs. Both of them crying open mouthed into each others shoulders. Teeth and spit and tears latched on. Neither of the best friends caring about being any semblance of perfect, and not wrecked, not when they were with each other. And they held each other so tight, so hard, as if the grief in their hearts was a magnet, pushing them even closer, but Steve and Robin never wanted to let go of each other, to help the burden of that grief.

Steve and Robin missed you, so much.

[existential-muffin]

Newbies' Trigun Stampede/98/Maximum Analysis

To start off I was introduced to Trigun by fanart on Pinterest while looking for art inspiration. So thank you to all the fandom artists!! I'm not really into anime too much, so this has been the first anime thats had my attention in a long while.

I began this series by watching up to episode 3 of Stampede and then decided "I can't wait, I must consume".

Immediately watched the high trip that is Tri98 and then came the heart crushing Maximum. Also have to thank @genkooii for the link to the proper translation to Maximum. Here is the link to that post if anyone wants to read as well.

I'm really happy with the way I followed the series and love it so much. Each version having its own charm and still keeping Vash's core at heart. But there are differences and somethings i find that were done better than others. I'll give my feelings for each first and then compare them.

Begining with the first 3 episodes of Stampede The animation was new and interesting. I didn't know about the hate for CGI until later on. I agree that it does look different, but I quite like the potential it has. Its beautiful in its own right. For story, I have to admit even as a newbie, the pacing was rough for me. I realized this after Vash saved Jenora (again) barely had time to breathe and then EG Mine shows up. (I learned later that I stopped just before things ramped up even more) I like tragedy, but subtlety goes a long way. Will come back to Stampede again further down.

Next is the OG Trigun 98 anime. I didn't realize how much I missed the 90s anime aesthetic?? There's just something about it. Even though it is dated in appearance, there are some great frames and angles this anime had that just makes it so intense!! This version did have fillers, but I felt like they weren't out of place. I have to admit here that I have a bias for this version. I grew up as a Fallout New Vegas fan, and this just gives me the same vibes. The questioning of morality with no real defined answer? How people struggled to survive and how fucking wacky they were!??? All while the protag is basically a wandering gunslinger/cowboy. Loved it. Gotta have those spurs that jingle jangle jingle, while having an existential crisis.

And here we are at Maximum.. man, words can't even describe how Stamp and Tri98 didn't prepare me for this at all. It's like that hair-clutching-hysterical-crying that settles into soft calm laugher and happy tears. It was really painful, those tough and tender pages i read... I loved it. This version does have a combination of both the above. And Stamp is more based on this version. But the pacing, while quick, had the subtlety I craved. The action was cool and interesting, but i now understand why it was said as "hard to follow". It can get a bit confusing. Overall, I ate this manga up when I definitely should have been studying, haha!

I actually went back to Tri98 after Max and definitely felt the differences between them. It was a bit surreal. Had to separate the two in my mind, but I still love them both.

Return of the Stamp! Now having finished all prior media, I looked at Stampede with new eyes. I'm glad I waited because I binge watched the episodes. I definitely understand why older fans were concerned, but this was my original, and I am going to stick by Stamp's side for as long as I can. Hmm how to describe how I feel now that season 1 has ended... this Trigun is in neutral for me right now. Though the animation is enough to make me go bonkers over the expressions and lighting, it's not enough for me to say it's outrageously good storytelling wise. But it does convey emotions well when it wants too. And they are definitely setting the stage up for Vash and more trimax story. I'm eager to see the results. I enjoy it overall. Season 2 will truly decide for me.

Okay here is the comparison part and will likely contain SPOILERS

Pacing

Stamp- as I mentioned much too quick but hopefully since this prequel season is over they will have more time to space out the story a bit

98- quite like this pacing. Has world building and mystery towards Vash for the first half. Makes it intriguing. The later half does go by quicker. Plants are hardly mentioned or explained.

Max- always in motion. Only in the first OG(prequel?) Trigun manga is there filler, which is what Tri98 is based more off of. But also this filler still had meaning and made you think.

Character relastionships/Interactions

Stamp- very little, Meryl is basically the only one who develops with Roberto and a tiny bit with Vash at the very end of the season.

I feel like something was lost between Wolfwood and Vash in this version. Woodwold being cold and Vash saying he looks kind, if you haven't seen the other media it's nice. Technically, there's nothing wrong with it. But i now see this is one of the tropes older fans complain about. It lacks the depth the 98 anime, and Trimax WW and Vash had. It gets straight to the point but loses a sort of dynamic. This anime didn't have the luxury of time I suppose. I don't hate wolfwood here. How could I? When he made such a soft expression at Livio. He still has that need to protect and thats what really matters.

98- another reason I like Tri98 is because they actually had the characters interact more. Meryl and Milly came to see Vash more and more and understand, he isn't at all what they or others thought he was. They had more time to be inspired by him. Meryl is definitely more aggressive and very direct. I don't hate this version. It's a straight man to Vashes over exaggerated goofiness. For the anime it works but I hate that for how abservent she is, that she really couldn't see Vash as the stampede?? Kind dumb but it's a wacky show, had to have a sillier vibe.

WW I like how they are actually friendly to each other at first. When the person who made you smile/soften up, has a harshly contrasting moral view to your own, it creates a certain sort of tension. Loved Vashs and WW friendship here. His death was kinda sadder since he died feeling like he didnt acomplish much. Vash's moment of breaking down while eating donuts was heart-wrenching . Also Vash using the Punisher vs Knives, such a good scene!!!

I actually really like Milly and Wolfwood together. It's cute. Millys more capable then I thought. Love her.

Max- Meryl and Milly have much less time with Vash. I do like how they are inspired by him still, but they only come around every so often to say a baller couple of lines than they dip. Don't get me wrong, I understand why, and I love how they are the representation of the good in humans, but they no longer feel as close. Which is saying something because 98 Vash was still a really distant dude. It just feels like the gap between them and Vash is more apparent. But they also had a really big issue at hand, so understandable. When Vash is called out for not letting them help more, he acknowledges that he can't afford to think about it at the moment. These characters were still great on their own.

WW- by far the only real human relationship Vash has ever had. And I don't mean in the romantic sense, but a sense of actually getting to know someone on a personal level despite their tense differences. Learning, inspiring each other while opposing each other. To have faith in someone. Vash is either on a pedestal or on trial when around most humans and I like that WW brings him down to his level. In the worst and best ways, he makes Vash truly human. I thought his death in the anime was painful but this was so much worse.

Livio and Vash bounding over their lost of WW will always get to me. The spaghetti scene. T_T Glad that Vash has another companion that could help in the physical fighting to come. Livio vs Elendria was a great!!. Liked how Livio was a combination of WW and Vash. A surprise break out character for me.

Does it make you think?

Stamp- Kinda spoon feed the tropes to you. I don't expect this to happen in the 2nd season. You could feel the subtle messages in the last few episodes of the season. I feel like they are done being overly flashy, time for the thick sauce of you-gotta-think-about-this-now.

98- despite it being so much like an abridge series, the episodes do make you think. Thats whats so good about it. The unsuspecting "here is haha funny man, now think about the uselessness of being good in this world". Love the episode with the rich girl and her criminal dad. Shows her position like most humas on Gunsmoke/no man's land. Moral grey kinda thing? That the world they live in isn't simply black and white.

Max- better dust off the old noggin and soak it in your tears.

Sadness

Maximum wins. IWANTHIMTOGETAHUGANDATHANKYOUANDAND---'

Stamp close second might surpass Maxs trauma in time. Who knows.

98- Someone mentioned that this Vash isn't suicidal. That is how low the bar is to make him the happiest of all the Vashes. Technically, he also got the best ending, for now, at least.

Knives

Stamp- oh no.. hes hot...and they definitely made him more intimidating than 98. Coming back to episode 4 was a thrill ride, but this version of Knives is very yandere. He does care for Vash but very manipulative and narcissistic. Gaslighting galore. I kinda understand it because of the manga now, but the whole pregnant plants and all that really puts this Knives on the less redeemable scale. His piano theme is amazing tho!!

98- barely there, the ending fight was cool, and I enjoyed it a lot. I did still like him in this version, but it had a lukewarm water kinda feel. The lesser of all the knives.

Max- the great thing about Maximum is that it shows so much depth to the story that i knew before, and to Knives. How sad and alone he really his. How his intentions are really just to save his kind from a threat that broke his mind with their cruelty. I don't disagree with him, actually. What he saw l, what humans do, does go toe to toe with Vash's optimistic. Knives is so human compared to Vash in my opinion. It's kinda odd and so poetic. Also when the plant hivemind was ripped away from him, I felt sad. He was alone again. Still wrong for him to obsorb his siblings tho...

VASH the man the myth the lengend

Stamp - Hmm, this has Trimax Vash attitude, but more on the meek side. My first impression was that he was a cute and kinda like a kicked puppy. I want to pat his head. In this version I wasn't thrown off by him being an all loving protagonist he just had the vibe off the start. Watching him in the later episodes did make me tear up. He's so soft and does have that tenderness that all Vashs' have. A cinnamon roll, too pure to good for this world.

98- he uses his smile as a sheild and plays it off better than the other Vashes, but his pain is still there. He is also pathetic, in a loving way lol. Before getting to know his story, i thought he was crazy. I was like every other character that he met. I didn't understand his struggle. I just saw the crazy man who made things difficult by choosing to avoid killing. Him getting serious and holding fast to his beliefs amazed and stunned me. Had me step back and see his point of view. Highly respect his willpower. However I don't entirely agree with him. Which many have pointed out thats the point of Vash. He is also much more confident and sly than Stamp Vash. Which is weird because it makes him seem more experienced and I think Stamp is older? He manages to use his pervy and over the top silliness to disarm people and get the advantage in most situations. He's smarter than he looks. I enjoyed the ending for this Vash, because it touches on his moral code after having to kill Legato. Him finally looking forward to the future without Rem being the main focus to his life and decisions. There wasn't enough time in Trimax and I would have liked some pages on it. But he was a bit busy saving the planet... He may be louder than the other Vash's but he still strives for a world that is made of ----- LOVE AND PEACE!!

Maximum- this Vash is like an older dad of the other two. He is worn down and you can feel it but he will NOT stop fighting. He is a tad more direct than the other Vashes and I was surprised that he has a tiny mean streak when he's irritated. I like this. He isn't always hiding behind that painted smile. He definitely gives off more of that Angel theme the manga has. An older creature that is indeed different from humans but wants to care and look out for them, but people are so scared of him. Poor dude. Every Vash holds the same core elements, the tenderness, the wit, and the determination. But this Vash really nails it down that he is the OG. And man, some of the lines for Maximum were just chefs' kiss. Had me just staring at the pages pondering. But he is so broken and mostly picks up the pieces alone. I am bitter that he never got any comfort or closure at the end. I am grateful it was a hopeful ending but HE LOST SO MUCH!!

All of them need a hug and therapy

Personal Ranking

I can't choose between Trimax and Tri 98...................................... Fine. Okay, it's Max for the plot, but you'll have to pry 98 Vash from my cold death hands!!!

3rd -Stampede - I really love the look, music, and some of the emotional points, just not enough storytelling for me to appreciate it more. I also feel like it's a bit too early to judge. So much can happen in the 2nd season.

[toxinwing]

Alrighty then, that's our first race of the season. Perhaps not the most exciting race, somewhat predictable, but we at least have an idea of what's in store for the rest of the year. Or, who knows, maybe things will get less predictable for the better as time goes on. I'll certainly hope for that. Now, let's see if I remember how to do my post-race summary. :P

Firstly, congrats to the podium finishers if Max, Checo, and Carlos. Cars seemed fast, no real issues, and Carlos got a bit of a teammate battle with Charles in there, too.

Well done to the rest of the top ten, too! In order we had Charles, George, Lando, Lewis, Oscar, Nando, and Lance. Man, if it wasn't for the Mercs and McLarens the top ten would've all been two by two, huh? Nice to see Lance getting in the points after a bumpy start, Hulk knocking into the back of his car through the first corner.

Good job to the rest of the race finishers, as well! In order they were Zhou, K-Mag, Dan, Yuki, Alex, Hulk, Esteban, Pierre, Val, and Logan. Valtteri and Logan were both quite a ways behind, unfortunately. Val having that long pit stop due to maybe a tyre issue? And Logan stopped on track after going off and I think having to sort something out on his steering wheel. Car settings and whatnot I suppose. I'm no engineer so can't say exactly what. :P

And finally, despite the various technical issues we saw during the race like Lewis having some kind of problem with his seat and the Williams' steering wheels acting up, all drivers finished the race! Not sure what kind of omen that is for this season, but we'll see over the course of this year I suppose.

So then, our next race will be in just a week's time, so I have until then to try and sort out my sleep schedule so I'm not as concerned about sleeping through any more practice sessions or quali again. :P But, until then, that's my liveblogging done. I gotta grab...well, a late breakfast, I suppose. Forgot to eat during the race. Whoops. So, y'all have a lovely rest of your day! Later!

[hertwood]

dts s2 e6-7

e6 -ALEX EPISODE -every time ive watched this episode and he says his sisters name (zoe) it's startled me. i anticipate it and it surprises me every time -"we are trying to give young people a chance. That's part of the Red Bull philosophy." (Helmut Marko) oh ok. oh OK. OH OK. -i need him biblically. i need him in a way that's concerning for feminism -OK UM so i watched the first half in the morning and the second half after my shift and i was like. im so wiped idk how emotionally i'll even be able to engage -and damn do i truly underestimate my ability to be affected by something i've seen and heard about over and over again. -ok but the parallels between alex's mom talking about being scared as a mom vs daniel's mom talking about the same thing in s1e1 -random cate sighting is crazy i almost forgot how she dated pierre lmao -god i NEED an alex/williams episode next season i miss him on this show soooooo much -its silly but every time i see that clip of anthoine kissing his girlfriend its instant waterworks

e7: -first of all obsessed with seb saying y'all. love him miss him sm -GOD you can just see how charles still has hopes and dreams here he hasnt been crushed and hardened by the ferrari machine yet. what a sweet time for him :/ -sebchal makes me so *gnawing at the bars of my enclosure* -part of me wishes they showed charles' win at monza w/ more charles centric focus? it was such a big deal for him and i think it deserved more. THAT BEING SAID it does set up the sebchal rivalry dynamic well, which is what the documentarians chose to focus on, and for that they did well. -i could say the same for seb's singapore win. it makes sense from a storytelling persepctive to focus on these from the rivalry lense but damn do i know these are iconic wins for both of them and its bittersweet that they don't get their own focus -i'm so confused how charles literally looks straight down the camera lense and says that he was signed with the knowledge that he'd be second to seb, and then gets MAD when they prioritize seb???? like when they prioritize charles seb has ever right to be mad bc that goes against what he was told but charles?????? i know that its bc theyre gonna be super competitive no matter what they're told bc its in their nature but Come Onn -"every world champion has what I term an 'inner bastard', and its the ability to make the tough decision when you have to." i do NOT take will buxton slander on this blog. i love this quote sm and as a baby fan it was big in understanding driver v team politics. it is SUCH an important skill to know when to be a team player and when to be selfish, and the ones who figure it out are the ones who maximize best outcomes. (a good example of this recently imo is carlos in singapore!) -"we'll start by holding hands." when i know its coming and i'm still vibrating gnawing on my enclosure etc etc. brainworms well and alive and fed -GOD rly puts into perspective how charles has been being fucked over by the ferrari engine since Day One -sebastian vettel has the vibes of a restaurant manager who isn't doing the greatest job but he'll never get in trouble because every single waitress is swooning every time he speaks. let me know if this makes sense -with more seb history context: i wonder how much this parallels to the dynamic in rb when daniel joined--and he left the following year. christian talks all about daniel "running from a fight" with max... wonder if thats also, at least in these instances, sebs instinct as a driver in this system. don't take this analysis too serious btw i'm just spitballin

[livingasaghost]

september was not great folks, but we're trying <3

in the saddest realization of the season i discovered that my favorite part of the day is my 40m drive to work because it's chilly and i can see a lot of trees and the morning light and i also am in the perfect headspace to listen to Good Music and it's like when i used to make my morning playlists for opening the coffeeshop except soooo much more enjoyable

been listening to lots of holly humberstone and NF's new album and justin vernon stuff (bon iver, BRM, etc) and unfortunately gracie abrams - there's just something about all these artists being like "I AM THE PROBLEM ITS ME IM SORRY" that just speaks to me! that's not concerning at all!

laura and i talked for like two hours last night and it was like old times and god i really do miss when we'd just ride the same bus home and i could walk to her house ):

i've been trying to make taylor's chai cookies for like a week and i realized i absolutely have time to make them today so i'm trying to buck up the energy to do that in the next two hours before i have to be a person and go to a photoshoot

"good day" by olivia barton

i'm trying to get back into crying in h mart because mom finished reading it and we're supposedly buddy reading it so we can discuss it but i haven't felt like reading all month because i've been depressed...but like damn cancer sucks guys

in other news, i think because i've had such a shitty brain month this september i've almost pushed myself so far that halloween season sounds really fun!!! i'm trying to work through my halloween hate bc i think it's kind of silly and all my friends love halloween so i should love it too! and like i wanna watch spooky movies and be chilly and have FUN! god!

i kinda forgot a vital piece of jennalore which is that when i was a kid my mom's college roommate used to send us frosted sugar cookies shaped like bats every halloween and it was actually kinda the best thing ever? so i'm trying to channel that energy this season

work is batshit insane and i'm so exhausted by it i literally slept for 11hrs on like wednesday night bc i was so tired but also......when we're busy i always feel like i'm actually Doing Something and my bosses are so happy with the work i do so like.....it's good even though it's bad!

therapy has actually been really really good? like it Sucks bc it's therapy and i hate talking about my feelings but my therapist is the sweetest NB person ever and they're always just like "uhhh that's emotional abuse my dude!" and i'm so fucking excited bc at the end of october they're gonna have saturday openings which means i can finally go talk to them in person and not on my lunch break in our tiny break room!!!! at this point i have to pretend like my coworker can't hear everything i say during therapy otherwise i'd go insane so i always leave my sessions being like ......did max hear that i'm aroace and i have depression and i might be neurodivergent??? idk!!!

which speaking of, even though max and i definitely aren't like friends by any sense of the word....we are also just like having a time together! it's wild i see him most out of all the people i know but i think we're both going a little insane from the workload and being Depressed so we just spend all day being kinda wacky and for whatever reason i've reached a point where i stopped having a filter with him so i just start talking about the most random shit and he's cool with it lol

i think i might maybe be a little lonely! idk! i've been struggling to figure out what i need or who to talk to and i generally just want to talk to like two or three of my friends or my gc and everyone's just busy ): but then when i have the chance to talk to anyone and i Sit Down to try to interact bc i know some people are probably around i just get a little overwhelmed idk make it make sense!!!

and i realized i don't have a lot of IRL friends anymore bc a lot of the ones i had from the coffeeshop are Not My Friend and the ones i met on instagram are also Not My Friend and the ones i used to live with are Not My Friend and so my list of people to hang with is teeny tiny and idek what i need or want anymore so it's just my brain screaming .

the most frustrating thing rn is that i know i'm in a bad mental place however i cannot distinguish what i need! but when someone asks me what i need i get this intense panic/dread and i spiral real bad and if anyone tries to be kind to me it makes me feel worse and so it's like....i'm stuck in this stand still where i can't get what i need but i don't know what i need so i just eat cereal, listen to music, and go to bed early!!!

i don't wanna watch anything, i still haven't finished this season of only murders, i need a DVD player bc i want to watch the director's commentary of hill house, there's a bunch of shows and movies coming out soon that i feel overwhelmed by at the moment and it's just like !!! this is all so unfair

and i need to make all these appointments like getting my oil changed and going to the doctor for my annual but i cannot bring myself to do those things but also like should i ask my doctor about medication for depression??? surely it isn't that serious but like maybe it is idk!!!!

the depression isn't as bad as it's been in the past (i think?) like i felt a lot more hopeless in 2017 and i think a lot of that is because i do have a support system and a therapist and a good paying job and things to look forward to but like i'm very aware that many days i do just feel that feeling of "everything is meaningless and nothing will bring me joy ever again" so it's like !!! idk!!!! maybe i'm gaslighting myself into thinking i'm not that bad when in actuality i am!!!

i've just been stuck in that space of middle limbo with all my "diagnoses" that i cannot rationally understand if i'm allowing myself to see myself the way i am? like i always felt like i wasn't depressed enough to be Depressed bc i'm not suicidal but like ??? that's silly !!! maybe i am Depressed!!!!! but i don't even know how to go about getting meds and what they would do and it's almost more overwhelming to think about that than to just be depressed ): bc i still am convinced a lot of it comes down to the heat and the lingering effects of summer

but now i'm thinking about 2021 when it was the bad times and i stopped working on creative stuff or literally any year from 2017-2020 when i just spent the early fall Not Creating and having a crisis that i'd never create again and it's like.............is that bc i'm always depressed around this time? it's comforting bc i know life is seasons and i will come back around to making things and doing my silly projects but it's just sort of making me wonder how it would be different if i tried to find a way to get meds ....like would that Fix Me....would that Solve the Problem....what if it doesn't! what if i'm not depressed enough for that!

(this is all just thoughts, i'm fine, etc, just haven't let myself fully think about the depression this month bc i don't think there's a solution rn i'm just trying to get through it)

anyway, "good day" by olivia barton