#then just gave up . maybe from when he crashed his car in season one ??????

[dogtheories]

im the only person who cares about that time joe got his pinky cut off by the russian mob

[vivwritesfics]

Padawan Learner

Mrs Vettel, ex Williams driver, current McLaren driver, can't drive while pregnant. Although she's contracted until 2026, she can't drive while she's with child. But she can't stay away from racing, and can't help but take the Williams rookie under her wing.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader, (Platonic) Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: Brief description of smut

She wasn't supposed to retire at the same time as her husband. He felt as if he was at the end of his career and there was nothing more he could offer to the sport, so he retired. He'd had his glory years in Red Bull, moved to Ferrari, every racers dream, and ended things in Aston Martin, alongside his wife's old teammate.

She still had more race left in her. She'd been with Williams for years, racing alongside Valteri Bottas, Lance Stroll, George Russell, and, later, Alex Albon. But then she moved to McLaren, a team she felt would help her fight for wins.

Her husband very thoroughly celebrated the beginning of his retirement. She found herself stuffed full of cum almost every day of winter break.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when they got pregnant. But she wanted to murder Sebastian. For all of five seconds she wanted to drown him in their pool. But, after that five seconds passed, she was overjoyed, wrapping her arms around Sebastians neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

She told McLaren and they pulled Oscar Piastri in for the year. That was how he got his first drive in F1. All because Sebastian Vettel was incredibly horny, but he didn't need to know this.

She might not have been able to drive, but she still wanted to be trackside whenever she could. Her old team gave her this opportunity. She didn't hang around the McLaren garage, as she had half expected.

No, it was Williams and the new team Principle, James Vowles, who gave her somewhere to be during the season. Even in preseason testing, she was there, watching the Williams.

It was great to be in the garage with Lily again. She'd always liked Lily, thought she was great for Alex when they first met. After her move to McLaren she rarely got to see Lily, and as much as she hated sitting in the garage, it was nice to be sat in the garage with her.

Alex was a great driver. Any advice a veteran like her could have offered him, he already knew.

But then there was his teammate.

She watched Logan from his very first race weekend. She had known about the rookie for a couple of years now and had watched him succeed in Formula Two.

But now, in the Williams tractor, he was struggling. Week after week after week he was finishing outside of the points, or he wasn't finishing at all. She really felt for him.

"Hey," she said after the Hungarian Grand Prix.

Logan hadn't spoken to anybody since he got out of the car and did all that he needed to do. Clearly he was struggling. He didn't say anything, just looked up.

She stood beside him. At her stage of pregnancy she could have gotten down to the floor to sit with him, but she wouldn't have been able to get up without help. Her hand rested on her bump as she looked down at him.

"I still remember my first season in Formula One," she said as she looked at the retired car. "It was 2013 and Seb was set to win the championship. I was in my first year in Williams and I think I only finished maybe ten races," she said with a laugh.

"Wait, seriously?" Asked Logan as he looked up.

She nodded her head. "I crashed out of most, or the car fell apart on me. Most people wondered why I had a seat for the next year, but Williams saw potential in me. I know they see it in you, too."

Every time Logan didn't finish a race, every time he came dead last, she was there. Nobody could comfort her like she did. Sometimes Seb joked that they might as well adopt him, and Logan agreed. Most up and down paddock called Logan her padawan learner, which was very fitting.

Logan began being the person she spent the most time with when Sebastian wasn't there. He'd looked up to her for many years and having her support meant the world to him. He was there for her too, making sure she had somewhere to sit and something to drink whenever she needed it.

In September, a month before her due date, Sebastian begged her to stop travelling. Just in case he wanted her home with him, where he could take care of her. They still watched every race together and she made sure to send Logan a good luck text before every practice session, qualifying, and race.

When Logan got his first points, nobody celebrated more than Sebastian Vettels wife. She was so proud of him, even if those points were because of two disqualifications. She posted a picture of him and her from a previous race on Instagram like a proud mum. Funnily enough, Logan comments 'thanks mom' on the post.

Just two weeks after this, her water broke. Sebastian got her to the hospital. He stayed by her side, holding her hand through the hours of excruciating labour.

Leon Vettel didn't cry when he was born. He was so quiet, that it actually scared his mother. But the doctors and nurses assured the new parents that he was perfectly healthy.

He was their perfect little man.

She insisted on asking Logan to be Leons godfather. They had grown so close over the last few months that it seemed fitting.

Logan accepted. As soon as the Vettels could, they were taking Leon to races. Or, Sebastian took Leon to races, to watch his mother race. Of course he was wearing a Williams hat and McLaren shirt.

"Papa," Leon said at four years old after watching the Australian Grand Prix qualifying session.

"What is it, my little man?" Asked Sebastian as he sat Leon on his lap.

"I wanna be like mama and Uncle Logan," he said, and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from grinning.

[moodriingz]

Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house. 

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers. 

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,” 

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world. 

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say. 

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke. 

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice. 

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen. 

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers. 

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut. 

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit. 

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks. 

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

ok 

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.” 

“Because I was scared,” He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back. 

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's hard to stay mad at family for long but forgiveness doesn't come from everyone. Warnings: 18+ only, swearing, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine

“That was my race line. I had the inside line!” 

“Snooze you lose, Max Emilian.” You flipped your visor up as you faced the teenage boy who confronted you. “You're lucky this was just practice.”

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you in the race just because you are my sister.”

“Half sister.” You corrected as you pulled your helmet off, making the older boy's cheeks turn pink at the reminder. “Don’t cry too much when you get beaten by a girl, Verstappen.”

“I’m 15 years old, little girl,” he said as he looked down at you, “I don’t cry.”

You glanced at the backdoor and debated taking your chances with the six foot fence blocking your escape. With your luck you would probably break your ankle and miss the rest of the race season, something you would prefer not to happen. 

“Run?” Lando double checked as you heard car doors closing loudly, the thuds reverberating in the quiet neighbourhood. The option was taken as you failed to make a decision before the door opened without a knock. Seeing you tense, he placed a hand on your knee under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Brave face, baby.”

The slap of feet running on the wooden floors stole your attention but they weren’t heavy enough to be Max’s and you turned with open arms to catch the toddler. 

“Hello Penelope,” you greeted her as she climbed up onto your lap and waved to Lando and Charles. “You’ve grown again!”

“P, what have I said about running off,” Max huffed as he stepped inside the doorway, stopping under the archway that connected to the dining room. 

Covering Penelope’s ears, you pinned your brother with a glare. “Dick move bringing P into this.”

He shrugged innocently as he buried his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Kelly’s working, and she misses you.” 

It had been a while since you spent time with her since you didn’t go to Max’s place as often, opting to spend your time with Charles and Lando. Letting your hands fall away, you pointed to the kitchen. “There’s some muffins in there if you want. Are you hungry?”

She nodded eagerly and Lando pushed his chair out, offering his hand for her. “I can help you, P. Want a glass of milk too?”

“Nice shirt,” Max said with a little laugh as he noticed what Lando was wearing. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Maybe I just like wearing my boyfriend's clothes,” he said with a daring arch of his brow. “Is that a problem?”

Max looked at his feet with the smallest shake of his head. 

“I have a boyfriend too!” P exclaimed as she jumped around excitedly, tugging him out of the room. “His name is Brodie and he lets me use his crayons.”

You shared a smile with Charles as the two chatted their way to the kitchen, their voices growing even quieter when the backdoor opened and they took their muffins outside to eat. The moment the door clicked shut the smile fell from your face.

“What are you doing here, Max?” 

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the race,” he said as he walked into the room, his eyes scanning the walls to see if there were any new pictures since he last visited. “Nice win.”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed as you pushed your chair out and rose to your feet, not liking how much smaller you felt with him standing. “I should have crashed out at least three times. It was just luck that I finished the race.”

Charles’ brows pinched at the news but you placed your hand in his to ease his mind as he stood by your side. 

“You don’t believe in luck, you make your own.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, klootzak.”

“I don’t know what that means but I’m going to assume it wasn’t nice,” your mother tutted as she stepped into the room, making her way to your brother. “Hello, Max, nice to see you again.”

“Is it though?” you muttered as she gave him a hug, her disappointed eyes landing on you. 

“Yes, it’s always nice to see family.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Max said, completely ignoring your comments. “I hope you don’t mind us just showing up at your door.”

“Not at all, I hardly get any visitors anymore.”

You felt guilty hearing those words and vowed to come home more often in the future, especially since it was a place where you didn’t have to hide your unorthodox relationship. 

“Well if he wants to stay then there is something he needs to do first,” you said as you pointed to Max and then your mother. “Apologise. Now.”

“That’s not necess-”

“Just because you have been called worse doesn’t make it alright,” you interrupted her before turning back to your brother. “Max, apologise or leave.”

You felt Charles’ hand settled on the small of your back, the warm reassurance that he was by your side. You focused on that hand as the silence drew out, your mother sighing with defeat and Max staring emotionlessly back at you.

“What did you think I came here for?” he asked, sounding mildly bored. 

“I never know with you, maybe you wanted to lose another fight.”

“No fighting under my roof,” your mother warned. “Now I’m going to put the kettle on and everyone is going to take a seat and calm down.”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Max admitted quietly and he stopped her from leaving as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I said a few things I didn’t mean in anger and I came to apologise. To the both of you.”

“Apology accepted, dear,” she said as she patted his hand. 

“Just like that?” you asked her with a frown.

“One thing age has taught me, is life’s short and grudges weigh heavily on the soul. It’s better to forgive and move on, honey.”

“No wonder Lando gets along with her so well,” you whispered to Charles as she went to the kitchen. “They’ll be making friendship bracelets and dreamcatchers in no time.”

“I’m pretty sure I already saw them reading the horoscopes in the newspaper this morning.”

“Zusje,” Max interrupted the whispers with a sheepish step forward. “Can we have a word, alone?”

Charles looked at Max defiantly until you patted his stomach and he looked back at you. “It’s okay, there’s plenty of vases if he gets out of hand.”

“Touch my monsteras and there will be hell to pay, missy,” the warning came from the kitchen.

“I was thinking a cactus would hurt more.” You looked at Max and saw his lips twitching as he knew you were just winding your mother up.

“Just don’t reach for a fork,” Max said with a chuckle. “Then I’ll be scared.”

“Ouch, too soon for a Jos joke,” you snickered and made your way to the front door where you wouldn’t be overheard from the kitchen. “I don’t want to get in trouble for swearing.”

Max followed you out of the house and took a seat beside you on the front step. Seeing the mess in the front yard, he cocked an eyebrow and jutted his chin at it. “Yours?”

You were about to open your mouth to bite back a remark before a dark smile grew. “How sorry are you?”

“Seriously?” he groaned, eyeing up the rusted shears and dozens of plants still overgrown. “I can pay someone to come and do that.”

“So can I, but you said you were sorry and actions speak louder than words, Maxie.”

“Let’s get this straight, I fix the garden and you forgive me.”

You chewed your lip before nodding. “But, if you ever, and I mean ever, say something like that again I will torpedo you into turn one.” 

“Sounds fair to me,” he agreed. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I wouldn’t like fighting me too,” you joked before sobering up. “I’m sorry I said I didn’t have a brother.”

“Half-brother, but it’s okay, we both said things we didn’t mean.” He looked over his shoulder at the shoes lined up and knew which was Lando’s and which was Charles from when they used to sit outside his door on the nights they would hang out. “I hope you seriously thought this through.”

You snorted a laugh. “It wasn’t some whim, Max, they were my friends too so yes, we thought this through. I think you need to give us more credit.”

Max dropped his chin onto his fist. “I just don’t understand how it can work.”

“You don’t have to,” you said simply. “It works for us and has for the last couple of months, and will continue to for hopefully a very, very long time.”

“Months?”

You shrugged innocently. “Told you, not a whim.”

“Months?” he repeated as his brows crumpled together and his face screwed up like he was in pain. “Oh, I’m going to kill those lying fuckers.”

“No you’re not,” you growled as you planted a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. 

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because I love them, and I would never speak to you again. Can’t you just be happy for me? I’m not the easiest person to get along with. Or, at least be happy I’m not on Raya anymore.”

“Oh no, this is much better than Raya,” he muttered sarcastically before taking a deep breath. “Fine. Not fine, but okay, fine.”

“It's a start.” You held out your hand. “So I forgive you, you forgive me - even though your transgression was much worse in my opinion - and we are all happy families again.”

“Yeah, totally happy,” he said with a roll of his eyes and you returned it with a punch to his arm. “I can’t believe you stole my best friends.”

“Get used to it, I’ll be stealing the championship next.”

He huffed a laugh and relaxed a bit as he shook your hand. 

“One other thing,” you said as you shook on the deal. “I may have forgiven you but the guys aren’t going to be as easy to convince.” You rose from the steps and wiped the dust from your ass. “But you can worry about that after you take care of the garden. Laters, bro.”

You slammed the door closed before he could reach it and locked it with a laugh as he banged on it. “You didn’t say I had to do it now! It’s the middle of the fucking day.”

“Better put some sunscreen on then, Snow White.” You turned away from the door with a proud grin and found Charles and Lando waiting expectantly. “What? He’s still alive.”

The door swung open and Max smirked as he held up the spare key that was hidden under a pot plant. “Terrible hiding place.” His smile fell as he saw your boyfriends blocking the hall shoulder to shoulder and their arms crossed over their chests. 

“So you two are…?” Lando waved a hand between you and your brother.

“Yeah, we’re good now,” you said with a nod and Lando relaxed his posture with a quiet exhale that made you smile. He could be so protective but it didn’t change the fact he was a lover not a fighter. 

Brushing past you, Max offered his hand in peace and Lando shook it. “You hurt my sister and you’re a dead man walking.”

Making the only promise that meant anything in your world, he said, “I’d rather lose my seat.”

Satisfied with the answer he turned to Charles who accepted the handshake but his stiff spine remained as he leaned closer to Max and whispered, “This doesn’t make us friends again. I’m only doing this for her.”

Click here for chapter nine.

[kingofthering]

a bunch of notes from Marc Marquez and Max Verstappen’s exchange while commenting a section of the HRC Thanks Days 2023 :

Marc explained the impact of aero on the bikes (and Max completed with what it does on cars) and he reiterated that he hates it, especially when trying to pass someone

Marc said that it wasn't really his thing to talk to other riders during race weekends but they did talk about updates sometimes between same factory riders (comms were asking about Taka) while Max said that he speaks with Checo a lot because of teams meetings mostly

when asked about what he likes to do in the offseason, Max talked about spending time with his family, doing sim racing and resting (said than when he was 18, he felt like he could do anything, now not so much)

Marc said he wasn't interested in Indycar (but liked to watch it)

Max said again that he wants to try to ride bikes but that he's not allowed, Marc told him to make bets with Red Bull Racing so that they allowed him (like, if I win the championship, you let me ride a bike)

Max rode mini bikes for a couple of years when he was a kid (when he was 8) but then stopped to focus on karting

Max enjoyed driving a super GT last year and said that the Super Formula cars look great

Max mentionned how he would like to do Le Mans (24h) (he went there already when his dad was racing)

most difficult race this season? Max : Singapore, Marc : Valencia (not the worst but the most difficult because he had to control his emotions)

best race this season? Max : Suzuka, Marc : Motegi

Max mentionned how he was always impressed at how MotoGP riders get back up after crashes, which prompted Marc to list his injuries this season (both thumbs, one rib, one ligament, one muscle...)

Marc explained that riders get to recover more quickly from their injuries than regular people because it's all they do with their days (doing therapy) and they have access to a lot of people and a lot of machines and it's their job to recover (said he spend 2-3 hours doing recovery in the morning and then 2-3 hours in the afternoon too) (broken bones won't be much faster tho, might just be helped by their health/good diet a little)

Marc then mentionned that of course they race injured sometimes but it's important to know the limit (and then he mentionned Jerez and how he turned an injury of six months into an injury of three years) (said that of course he has regrets about the decision of coming back so early (mentionned that yes at last it was his decision but the doctors gave him the okay first) but now it's done, he wouldn't do it again)

Max's dream team for Le Mans? he's been speaking with Fernando about it and Fernando said he would only want to do it with Max, Max said that he needs to find a lighter teammate (because Le Mans doesn't have minimum weights requirements for drivers and Max said he was "quite heavy") and that Fernando is light already, to which Marc said "I'm lighter than Fernando" while laughing

Marc & Max both said that it was easier to jump from 2 wheels to 4 wheels and Marc mentionned the example of Valentino

Marc said that it's harder to overtake on 4 wheels because of the space needed, yes it was nice to ride alone in the Red Bull Ring (with Mark Webber as his teacher) but he couldn't imagine himself in Monaco with 20 other cars around him

Marc : "When I tried the F1, it was easy because I had Mark Webber there, which was a super nice coach, he was saying to me "brake on that line" and you can arrive with the car and break on that line. Maybe if you lock a bit the front, okay, next lap I will break a bit, but with the bike, I can't tell Max "break on that line", because if he locks the front, he will crash on the gravel."

Max said that maybe he can maybe build up his way to MotoGP by riding Moto3 and Moto2 first and Marc said that he can jump Moto3 because he's too big for it (and Moto3 bikes are really small) but he will feel more comfortable on a Moto2

Marc talked about which parts of the RBR he enjoyed driving when he drove the Toro Rosso in 2017 (didn't like turn 3, enjoyed the high speed corners)

Max said that he can train his neck as much as he wants in the off-season, it will still be stiff at the end of the first day of testing (because in the end, the best training for your neck is still the driving)

Marc completed the previous point by saying it was the same thing for him, you can train in the gym and arrive fit for the tests in Malaysia but on the second day you're destroyed because your muscles are not working the same way when on the bike

Marc said that testing in Malaysia in the winter is the worst and joked that on the last day (which is when they usually test the long runs) they always wish for rain so they don't have to go out

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

Honey, If You Stay, I’ll Be Forgiven

-> Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance

Verstappen x Reader, in which they were once karting rivals. A long time ago.

Snow falls outside, just on the other side of the window you slouch against. Shadows cast themselves against the pages of your book.

A coffee sits on the table in front of you stopped letting off steam a few minutes ago. The half drank peppermint mocha tastes great, the book in your hands is just a little bit more interesting.

Across the shop, just missing you when he walked in, Max pays for his own coffee. Probably the first time back after the end of his F1 season.

Your eyes follow him. All the way until the two of you make eye contact.

He breaks eye contact as soon as he sees you.

You turn back to your book, and your cold coffee.

Nearly too engrossed in your book, you almost don’t notice another coffee cup setting itself on the table across from you. The chair pulls out and the man imposing himself on your time alone finally grabs your attention.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he says. His eyes are joking, his tone doesn’t agree. He sounds almost accusing. In spite of the faint smile on his face.

“Sorry, I’m not doing autographs right now,” you spare him a glance before looking back at your book.

Banter still comes naturally. The two of you got on because of it. A similar humor, dry and sarcastic. Got on like fire on trees. That’s what your family would always say. Fought like cats and dogs, absolutely adored each other until-

“You could be a driver,” he pushes your book down out of your face, “signing plenty of autographs yourself.”

The question he meant to ask is thick in the air. You gave him no excuse when you quit. Neither of you can even recall the last words you said to him.

“But I’m not.”

You try. You ignore his eyes. You debate some cold remark, something to push him out. Even sitting in front of him brought you back.

“I used to think about us.”

You want to shut him down, thinking hard about getting up and leaving him in the shop. Leaving him in the dark. Separating yourself even further from the dream you once had. The dream that you would be reminded of, every time your joints ache in the cold.

His hand covers yours, “I’m not mad.”

His voice is a whisper. You stare down at your hand. The one pained at the contact.

“I couldn’t have continued if I wanted to,” your fingers slip through his by then.

“Why not? You were-“

“I was injured, Max.”

“Was it that bad?”

You pull your hand back, flexing your fingers under the table. “Everything hurts, my joints, my doctor said I’m well on my way to developing some form of arthritis.”

You pause for a beat. If anyone knew how devastating news like that could be for a kid with the dreams you had, it would be Max.

“I couldn’t admit it.”

You look back up at him. His expression is blank. His mouth open and close, not really finding anything to say.

“I’m also prone to dislocating joints. They’re all stiff, but hyper-mobile at the same time it’s- it’s super weird.”

You deflect into a joking tone. Maybe a conversation change could follow.

“What about we go for a drive,” he cocks his head toward his car, the Aston Martin he’d been bringing around, “change the subject.”

“Mine isn’t as fast,” yours parked two spots down. A stock early 2000s Mustang wouldn’t touch his Valkyrie.

“It’s not a race,” he says, standing up and holding a hand out to you, “just a drive. Take the lead?”

You grab his hand, you use him to steady yourself as you stand. Mild relief from sitting on the hard coffee shop chairs is overwhelmed by the stiff joints adjusting to being forced back into use.

The two of you walk out. In your separate cars, you make eye contact. Just like you used to before cart races as children.

Your dreams as a child came crashing down around you, but you could build them back up, just adjusted. With Max hopefully staying in your life, maybe he could help.

[vettelsdarling]

can you please write a love triangle story between carlos sainz and charles leclerc? you could decide who she ends up with at the end

When I saw your eyes

➪This is a great prompt, I love a good love triangle!

➪This is my take on it, hope you enjoy!

Just a few things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season.

You’re 23 and the daughter of Christian and Beverly, so your biological sister is Olivia.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Horner!Fem!Reader (x Charles Leclerc)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of mature themes, daddy issues, angst

Word Count: 5.2k+

Backstory

You were a professional motorbike racer. You'd won three world championships in the sport and were racing for Red Bull. Your father, Christian was the team principal for the Red Bull Formula One team, so it only made sense for you to drive for them. After having competed so many times, you decided to announce your break. You took to Instagram to make a public statement about it. Many fans were supportive and not many were against your well-being and the fact that you were in need of some time away.

Your father had asked you several times to come visit him and Geri. You didn't really like Geri all that much. She was one of the main reasons your father and your mother split. Your mother had been pregnant and gave birth to your only real sister whilst your father decided to try and make it with the spice girl. You resented Geri for ruining what could have been a perfect family. Yet, since you didn't have anything to do, you decided to crash with them for a week.

“So Dad, what's going on in the Formula One world?” You asked as everyone was sitting at the table, eating a hearty breakfast.

“Oh, you know, just this and that. We're in the lead, so it's smooth sailing for now.” You were happy to hear that your father didn't have much to stress about. You remembered the times he told you he'd stay up all night to make calls for his drivers and mechanics. It could get tiring.

“Daddy, I think she should go watch the next race,” said Olivia with a smile. She had syrup on her lips from the waffle she was eating.

“That's not a bad idea, what do you think? Wouldn't it be something you'd like? You used to love attending the races in the garage with me when you were younger.” You were not that little girl anymore. Christian had a hard time understanding that fact and acknowledging it.

“Dad… You know I don't really have an interest in cars anymore.” You leaned back in your chair and took a bite out of a poppy seed bagel that you had spread a generous amount of cream cheese on.

“Of course, I know that. I just figured maybe you'd enjoy it. You know the struggle of G-force like these drivers,” he chuckled.

“Not like them. Definitely not. I don't experience much G-force. The highest is probably at 1.4. I don't think I've gone beyond that.”

“Either way, I think you should join me next weekend, yeah? It'll be fun.” You shrugged and checked your calendar to see if it was free. When you opened it, you saw that you'd made a note for the Isle of Man. It was extremely dangerous, but you sought the thrill. You were so used to the domestic side of racing, you wanted something that'd make your heart jump out of your chest. Under no circumstances could you admit it to your father though. He’d freak out. The Isle of Man was basically a Darwin award in itself.

“Um, I don't have time next week, actually.” Your father gave you a disappointed look for some reason.

“It's Monaco, it's a really big event. Several celebrities will attend.” Was it more important than your racing? You had to weigh your options first.

“I have an important event to attend. I can't go. You can take Olivia.” Before Christian could get a word in, you'd already left for your room. Even with all the love and respect you held for him, conversing was hard. That's why you decided to stay with your mother. When you moved out, you'd only ever invite her over. You didn't mind the occasional check-in from Christian, but it was tiring to talk face-to-face.

A week passed by quickly and you were on the Isle of Man with your motorbike. You knew just how dangerous it was, but you needed the chase. Your father was in Monaco, without a single clue as to what you were getting yourself into.

Without a second thought, you focused on yourself. It was time. The practice race began and you sped off. Your bike was the fastest, which wasn't much of a surprise. The island was beautiful. You loved it.

Days passed and the real race was approaching fast. You were beyond excited. The practice sessions had gone smoother than expected and you could only imagine the same for the actual thing. So when the day finally came, you gave it your all. The race started and your speed was dangerously unreal. It was clear to you how so many people had lost their lives in the previous races.

The race lasted a whole week and you ended up winning. It was everywhere in the news. Christian got a message from Geri about it. She'd sent him a link to a news article. He only saw it after the race was over, as he had to focus on watching the two Red Bulls on the grid.

When he saw the article he was fuming. He called you several times but nothing happened. You didn't pick up. It was for the sole reason of not wanting to listen to his lecture. However, after he didn't stop— you had to pick up.

“Hello? What the hell were you thinking?! Putting your life on the line like that! Are you insane?!” He spat. People started noticing.

“Dad, I'm alive. Besides, I won the race. Are you not proud of me?” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Isle of Man… It's a death wish. Why would you— I just… I don't get it.”

“I was so tired of not having that thrill I used to have… You must know. Surely you must. Look, I'll come to the next race. Let me know when and where. We can talk more then, okay? For now, I really have to go.” You quickly hung up before he was able to say anything else.

A lot of time passed and you decided to wait until the race after Montreal, as it was at Silverstone. You didn't have to travel far for that. When you parked your motorbike, you noticed a sleek Ferrari pulling up next to you. On your other side, a Volkswagen Golf pulled up. Your helmet was stuck for some reason, so to not look like a fool trying to take it off, you decided to keep it on.

“Hey, you! You know you can't park here, right?” You didn't pull up the shade. You didn't want the man to see you. He moved closer to you with his car keys dangling from his finger. The other man came up behind him. They were both wearing Ferrari shirts. They were definitely racing for Ferrari.

“Yeah, I can.” You put a hand on your hip and tapped your shoe to the asphalt.

“It's reserved for staff and drivers. Fans have to find parking elsewhere,” the other man spoke. He had a thick Spanish accent.

“Fan? I didn't come here because I actually wanted to.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My father.” Curt reply. You didn't want to carry on with the conversation, so you started walking away.

“That doesn't make sense.” The one with the heavy accent grabbed your shoulder.

“It does if you know who Christian Horner is.” With that, you started walking again. You assumed they were dumbfounded because they didn't follow you even though they were supposed to walk in the same direction.

When you got to the paddock, many people looked at you weirdly. You were wearing a helmet and a Red Bull race suit. You didn't have any other Red Bull clothes to represent them, so you chose whatever you had… Which was your race suit.

“There you are! What's with the getup?” Asked your father before opening the shade to your helmet.

“I didn't have anything else. My helmet is stuck by the way. You wouldn't mind helping me, would you?” He easily got it off and handed it back to you. You flung your hair to the side to avoid it being static.

“Now I think I deserve an explanation.” The two of you were standing in front of the Red Bull garage, which was right next to the Ferrari garage.

“I won. That's your explanation, okay?” You turned around to go find Max. You hadn't met him yet, but you'd heard great things about him.

“No, that's not good enough. You better explain right now.” He started raising his voice. This caught the attention of two sets of eyes from the next garage over.

“I have 3 world championships under my belt. It started boring me and I just wanted something different for a change. Is that really so bad?” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“Yes, it is! It's the fucking Isle of Man!” He yelled. You were sure some of the mechanics were looking your way.

“Leave me alone, alright? I'm 23, I'm not a child. I can make my own rational decisions. I wouldn't have done it if I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it! Not only did I survive, I won! Besides, you're not in any actual position to take the role of a concerned father. You know that,” You returned the favour by yelling louder. Christian clenched his jaw and threw his arms up in the air. He left you alone to go cool off.

“Isle of Man? That's cool,” a voice snuck up behind you. It was the two guys from earlier. You weren't sure what to say. You knew your conversation had been loud, but you didn't actually expect anyone to be invested in it.

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“I'm Charles, and that's Carlos.” You examined their features. They weren't too bad-looking. You told them your name and shook both hands.

“So why didn't you choose to race in Formula One?” Carlos asked. The question wasn't hard at all. You'd always been a big fan of motorbikes.

“I was always into motorbikes. When I was a little girl, it was my dream to win a world championship in the MotoGP. My dream became a reality. Three times.” You said it as if becoming a three-time world champion wasn't a big thing.

“Three world titles… That's a great accomplishment, you know?” Charles smiled. You only looked at him briefly before turning your attention to your nails.

“I didn't know Christian had a daughter who raced,” Carlos chimed in.

“Well, he does. Aren't the two of you supposed to be getting ready? Leave me be, and go.” You were only stern because you were beyond uncomfortable and you'd just snapped at your father. The two Ferrari drivers left for their garage and you returned to Red Bull’s. Your father seemed to have calmed down a bit, likely due to the level-headed mindset he'd need for the race.

It wasn't long before the race started and people began whispering here and there whilst watching their screens intensely. You could hear the fans screaming outside as well. Certainly more overwhelming than your turf in motorsport. You'd already gotten a headache. There was still some time left for you to think about what to tell your father. Well, how to go about saying things.

When the race finally ended, a certain doom hit you. Everything had been said and done. The interviews were over and the celebrations had been held. A driver from Mercedes had generously offered to throw a small party, which you'd been extended an invite to. You'd graciously accepted it.

All you had to do first was talk to your father.

“Dad, it's not like I went in completely blind. I've studied it many times. More times than you know.” Geri was next to him, rubbing his forearm to try and calm his nerves.

“You realize seasoned racers have tried and failed before, right? Do you know what I mean by failed? Do you?!” He wasn't listening. He never was.

“Yes, but I didn't die! Fuck’s sake, I'm alive! I won! Maybe if you would've been more invested in my life, you would've seen the world champion in me earlier. It's okay though… You chose to throw me and mum away.” You chose to leave with those words, finishing strong but also not letting yourself get too carried away. It was your father after all…

You hurried out to your bike, hooking up your GPS to it. The Mercedes driver, Hamilton, had given you the address of the club and it wasn't too far away. You secured your helmet and jumped on, speeding off toward your destination.

The party was already lively. The first thing you did was take a seat by the bar. You wanted to get absolutely wasted and didn't plan on waking up with a clear head the following morning.

“Can I start a tab?” The bartender nodded, as he cleaned a tall glass.

“I'll just have a dry martini. Keep them coming.” Before he could ask for ID, you laid it out in front of him. It was your driver's license. All licenses were famous for looking like a prison sentence, but you'd come out surprisingly great in your photo.

“What are you doing all alone?” Someone took a seat right next to you. A gesture you'd normally find bothersome, but you didn't mind a little banter. Especially because you recognized the voice by its distinct accent and octave.

“I'm indulging in life’s luxuries,” you said with a sarcastic undertone. If a dry martini was considered a luxury, you could've died with no regrets years ago.

“Funny,” a voice came up behind you and took a seat on the other side of you. You were sandwiched between two Ferrari drivers. One had just won the Silverstone race. Congratulations were in order. You weren't a complete asshole.

“I guess I should say congrats on winning. I hear Silverstone is a big thing in Formula 1,” you said and popped an olive into your mouth. It oozed gin. Carlos wore a wide grin on his face. A grin you couldn't help but label attractive.

“Thank you. You look nice, by the way.” Carlos managed to smoothly wedge in that compliment. A faint chuckle snuck its way past your lips.

“What’s with the laughing? You’re gorgeous; Carlos is right.” You turned to look straight into the eyes of the famed heartthrob; Charles Leclerc. A smirk was plastered on his face. You couldn’t focus with the two guys smooth-talking you. The amount of attention that was put into you was unreal. Sure, you got a lot of that stuff whenever you raced, but it was nothing like this.

“I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” you said and finished your drink. The bartender immediately fixed you another one.

“I think you should come to more races whenever you can,” Carlos amused the idea and slung an arm around you.

“We’ll see,” you replied and downed yet another drink.

Present

“—And she’s done it again! She’s once again, champion of the world!” The crowd went wild. Many were in favour of you, as you were the only woman in the lineup. You were a four-time world champion. You could only hope Charles or Carlos had won the last race. You wouldn’t know until you were done, as it happened at the same time.

“How do you feel about your victory here today?” An interviewer quickly rushed up and asked. You’d done enough PR training to give a satisfactory answer,

“I mean, I feel amazing! The team, we pushed for it, and we got it, you know? I just want to thank my father and my wonderful team for this opportunity.” The interviewer thanked you and let you move on with your celebration.

You tried to get to your hotel as fast as possible so that you could see who’d won.

It took a while, but once you’d kicked your shoes off and sat at the kitchen island, you pulled up your Instagram to check out the standings.

“Damn… looks like Red Bull didn’t just win the MotoGP…” you sighed. Max had taken the championship yet again. You were proud of him, as a fellow Red Bull driver, but your heart ached for your Ferrari friends. At that moment, you decided to call Charles. Carlos rarely picked up his phone, and you knew Charles always would.

“Hey, I saw Max won… again,” you prefaced.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks, but what can you do? What a nice way to start a phone conversation!” You could tell he tried to seem upbeat and sarcastic after the loss, but it wasn’t sticking very well to the wall.

“Look, how about you and Carlos come visit me back in Brighton? I could show you around…” You suggested. There was some hesitation before you heard a voice in the background. It sounded like the phone was put down for a moment and you heard two people conversing. You assumed it was an engineer or something.

“I just talked to Carlos, he said he was free. We can talk more about it later.” He ended the call abruptly after, leaving you to get home and start planning.

Upon walking through your front door, you looked around your flat. Articles of clothing were strung around everywhere. It had been some time since you actually spent time at your own place. Your lifestyle was pretty much dependent on hotels and room service.

After spending some time cleaning, you noticed you'd gotten a text from Carlos. He asked if he and Charles were good to show up in two weeks' time. You replied with a simple ‘yeah’. You plopped yourself down on your leather sofa and started into the ceiling. You had a weird feeling in your chest. You couldn't quite put words on it. Texting and talking to Carlos made your heart pound faster. You'd known him for a while, and had felt things for him before, but never had you ever felt like your heart was being squeezed like a freshly pressed orange. You let your mind wander, and couldn't help but wonder if you had some repressed feelings for him. Carlos? No way. He's just a friend… Right? No matter how much you tried to rationalize your feelings, they didn't make sense. The more you thought about it, the faster your heart danced and generated butterflies swarming around in your stomach. You knew he'd been on your mind before, but never did those thoughts come on as strong as they were now. You'd always been able to make yourself busy, but now you couldn't. You were left to soak in it.

You decided to go out with one of your closest friends, Mia. There was nothing some drinking and dancing couldn't fix. Forgetting about the two drivers was all you needed for the night, even if it meant you'd puke your guts out the next morning.

“Are you kidding? A little crush? That's nothing. I don't even get why you're so worked up about that,” chuckled Mia and took a sip of her margarita.

“Fuck off, Mia, you've slept with half of Brighton at this point,” you rolled your eyes. She sighed and ordered you another drink.

“You should hook up with someone. We should definitely find you a good fuck.” She pulled out her phone to check what time it was, realizing the night was more than young. You had plenty of time to find the perfect guy to take home.

“I'm not you, I think I'll pass.” You could only imagine how awkward the sex would be. Being drunk would only make it harder to keep from screaming someone else's—

“Shut up. Two o'clock. Those two brunettes with those expensive watches. Ow, that's a steal for sure.” You didn't even bother looking their way. You chugged the rest of your drink and asked for another. The bartender was having a hard time deciding whether or not you were too wasted, but ultimately just gave you another round.

“Okay fine, you don't have to sleep with them… But you have to see them. They're everything I look for in a guy. Seriously.” You picked up your heavy head and turned in the direction she mentioned. What… The… Fuck? You were too far gone. Way too drunk, right? You were hallucinating. You saw the two people you were trying to keep out of your mind. They were standing in a corner, both holding a champagne flute.

“I swear I've had way too much to drink, Mia.” You shook your head and groaned, leaning into her neck.

“Hey, don't slouch. I'll just take you home, ‘kay? Jesus, and your dress. Tell me why you wore a long sleeve, please? You're sweating like a 30P hooker.” She helped you down from the barstool and the two of you started making your way to the exit.

Until you were stopped by none other than Carlos and Charles. Ugh. Your brain was mush and you didn't have the energy to think straight either.

“Woah, Horner. Is that you? What a coincidence,” Said Carlos.

“Not really. This bar is kind of exclusive— Um… You know her?” Mia held you tightly behind her.

“Oh, yeah we do. Do you need us to help?” Mia glanced at your wiped-out face and tried to ignore her inner monologue telling her to go back in and find someone to rock her world.

“Ummm… I'll tell you her address and door code, could you guys get her home safe?” She felt incredibly gutted, handing you over to the two handsome strangers. However, since they knew your last name— she figured they really did know you.

“Sure, we can do that. Have a great night,” Charles smiled and helped get you slumped over his shoulder instead of Mia’s. Your friend fixed her ponytail and kissed your forehead before heading back to the bar.

There you were. Left with the two Ferrari drivers, having to pull over a cab. You were far too wasted to realize what was going on, but you noticed the two men sitting on either side of you. Your heart felt fuzzy all over again, knowing Carlos was right next to you. It was the same feeling you'd desperately tried to escape a couple of hours ago.

“Why me… Why does the world hate me like this,” you slurred some of the words together, but you were coherent enough to understand.

“You should probably wait until we're home to go on a rant…” Charles suggested. You groaned and let your head fall onto his lap. You quickly dozed off from there…

What you didn't know was that Charles and Carlos had been feuding for a while. Even costing some wins in their races. They'd both been completely and irreversibly head over heels for you. They still were. It wasn't like their friendship was lost, but there was a slight tension whenever they were alone.

You'd been completely oblivious to it, but it started after you began attending more of their races. Carlos had made it a habit to stalk your Instagram page and Charles kept himself updated as well. The two of them tried to do whatever they could to impress you, but seeing as you never picked up on the cues; their attempts at flattery died down. You were always too consumed with work and family issues to ever notice how they were chasing you for your attention. It only got worse after the two of them realized they both liked you. It didn't matter though, because you still saw everything as friendly gestures. You'd never been in a real relationship. The only sort of intimacy you'd experienced was from overly flirtatious men who tried to get in your pants at parties or when you went drinking with friends.

After a few months went by of aimlessly trying to win you over, Carlos tried to get over you. He did whatever he could to ignore your texts and phone calls. Charles never seemed to back down though. He kept making himself look better than Carlos. It was around the same time you started feeling funny whenever you were around the Spaniard. You buried the feeling, convincing yourself that it was nothing. It was easy. You scheduled meetings and interviews on weekends you didn't race and occupied yourself with training during the week.

Being a child of divorce had always been hard on you. You were a commitment-phobe. Your view on romance was skewed and you could only blame your father. You held a special place in your heart for him, but the way he treated your mother after she'd given birth to your sister was unforgivable. Your mother had been such a big part of his life, and he was able to cast her aside for a new woman. That's why casual hookups were your jam. No commitments and no broken hearts. It was a win-win.

Carlos knew about your problems. You'd talked about it briefly, but he listened to every little detail you shared. He knew how hard it had hit you. That was another reason he used to justify ignoring you. Back then, you only took it as him being busy, which made him feel less guilty for doing it, though he still felt like an asshole.

“Mate, I think we should let her decide for herself. We shouldn't keep fighting like this. I mean how did we go from giving each other a helping hand on the grid— to threatening each other?” Charles whispered somewhat aggressively.

“I don't know, Charles. You're the one who suggested we fly out here immediately after we finished our race. Why wouldn't I fight for her?” Carlos shot back.

“Maybe because there's a chance she likes me and not you?” The whispering started getting louder, but you were out cold. They didn't really have anything to worry about.

“Let's just wait for her to wake up, okay? I don't want to argue with you right now. We'll wake her.” Carlos was definitely the more civil of the two, but he did have an aggressive edge when he needed to.

The morning came too soon, and you woke up with no memory of the night before. Your head felt like it was being crushed by a tank. You generally felt like you'd just been hit by a freight train. The sun made matters worse, blinding you and increasing the headache you already felt enough of. You decided to drag yourself to your kitchen to make yourself a hangover cure. It consisted of two raw eggs. You hated everything about it, but it had worked wonders in the past.

“Good morning.” You almost choked on your eggs as a voice came from behind you. Upon turning around, you were met with the gentle face of Carlos. He looked as if he had just got out of bed as well.

“Shit, don't scare me like that. What are you doing here? What's going on? How are you even here right now?” You felt like your line of questioning was leaning on the calmer side, but it was to keep the contents of your stomach down.

“We came here yesterday, actually. We were at the same bar as you. You were really drunk, so we took you home. Your friend gave us the address.” You couldn't help but groan. This caused Charles to make an appearance as well.

“Great…” you managed to hear Carlos mumble.

“Morning Horner,” Charles added a wink to his greeting. Which, in their own little world, meant that he'd one-upped Carlos.

“I'm sorry, I really can't make sense of this right now… Could you guys give me some time to process what's going on?” You sighed and went to your bedroom which connected to your closet. You pulled out whatever you could find and threw it on— returning to the kitchen where the two Ferrari drivers were sitting by the island.

“Okay, explain.” You sat across from them.

“I'm sure Charles would like to explain,” Carlos took a jab at the Monégasque.

“Well, we figured we'd just fly in directly after the race… So we did,” Charles started.

“I think we should cut to the chase. Both of us are… Um… Interested in you.” You liked the straightforward answer but weren't quite sure what Carlos meant by it.

“Ever since I met you, mon chéri, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Carlos apparently feels the same way. I just… I really like you.” It took a few seconds to sink in before you were able to give a proper response.

“Wait… What? You…” You pointed at Charles,

“—And you?! both?!” You finished off by pointing at Carlos and then at both.

“Charles… Can you leave me and Carlos for a moment?” You asked and were immediately met with a look of shock from Charles. His face melted into something more melancholic shortly after, but he went off to another room.

There you were. There Carlos was. His morning hair and sweet face. Your nausea was replaced by a tingling feeling. You felt it travel down your spine and to all your nerve endings. The amount of blood pumping through your veins was alarming. You could feel it in your throat. Was the room getting hotter?

“So… Charles said you have feelings for me,” you started. Your eyes met his, as he tried to think of what to say. He couldn't be sure whether or not you felt the same way, but a strike of confidence was added when you asked Charles to leave.

“I do. It has been a long time since I felt this way about anyone. You know the day I first saw you? I couldn't believe it when I saw your eyes after you got the helmet off. It looked like my whole life was reflected in them. You're beautiful. More than that. I can't even find the right words. I know Charles is more charming and open—” You cut him off. You couldn't help it. You had to.

“I love Charles. I love him, but not in the way I think he wants me to. He's sweet and you're right; he's charming, but you're you. As much as it pains me to hurt him, his feelings for me are one-sided, Carlos. I've liked you for a while now. I was just too blinded by work and not wanting to commit. I feel like an idiot around you…” Finally getting those words off your chest put you at ease. Even more so was the fact that Carlos shared the feelings.

“I would love to take you out sometime… If you know any good spots here.”

“Maybe we should settle things with Charles first, but I would love to.” You chuckled and pulled his face in for a kiss on the cheek.

“Can I kiss you? Like actually kiss—” You were starting to enjoy cutting him off, and the perfect way to do it this time was exactly what he wanted; a sweet kiss.

“Wow, I'm lucky.” He whispered.

“That you are,” you smiled and pulled him in for another, knowing you'd have to break the news to Charles somehow.

(Maybe to be continued...)

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[onboardsorasora]

Max putting on a random f1 race because Daniel loves racing and not realizing that it’s from a season Daniel raced in so like maybe end of 2011

And baby Daniel is just like “is that me??” all wide eyed and shocked

Another pair that just proves that we all share the same brain and I love that for us!!!!

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5 | De-Aged Daniel Part 6 | De-Aged Daniel Part 7 | De-Aged Daniel Part 8

“Do you want to watch a race?” Max looked over from where he was cutting bits of apples and watermelons into shapes. He remembered how much Luka and Lio enjoyed the snack. 

Little Daniel looked up from where he was colouring at the countertop– Max had worried it was too high but Little Daniel had begged to watch him and pinky promised to be still. So far he had been truthful. “Can we wash one of- of RedBull?” Little Daniel asked sweetly, his big eyes trained on Max’s.

Max bit back his smirk, satisfied that he had officially won the war against Ferrari. Little Daniel hadn’t wanted to take the race suit off and it took calling up Grace to get a promise out of him to wear other clothes. The other clothes in question ended up being versions of RedBull tshirts. Max wasn’t complaining, navy always looked good on Daniel.

“Of course we can.” Max cleaned up his workstation and lifted Little Daniel in his arms. Little Daniel clutched at his colouring supplies and giggled when Max made a show of slowly bending over to grab his fruits. 

They settled in front of the television, Little Daniel munched on his fruits and continued to colour his race car while Max chose a race for them to watch. 

Little Daniel watched rapt as the race started, before running around the living room– zooming and vrooming as he mimicked the cars going around the corners. There was a crash on the screen and Little Daniel gasped before covering his mouth.

“Oh!!!” He looked over at Max in shock, pointing to the chaos on the screen. “Maxy they cwash!”

“They did!” Max gasped exaggeratedly, watching as the marshalls pushed the cars off track. He remembered the race well, remembered how ready he was to get going again.

As Max anticipated, it was simply impossible to keep Little Daniel’s attention on the race for its entirety, so he helped him colour and gave him piggyback rides, pretending to be the RB19 flying past all the other cars on the grid.

Little Daniel giggled loudly, shrieking when Max started to spin after ‘clipping a barrier’. They played until Little Daniel yawned and fell asleep against Max’s side. Max tucked his hair behind his ears and let the commentary continue to wash over him.

Little Daniel awoke slowly, scrubbing at his eyes while he stretched.

“Would you like some water?” Max asked, looking over from his phone. He felt Little Daniel’s face brush his arm as he nodded.

“Yes pwease.” His accent was rounder while his tongue was heavy with sleep. Max made a soft noise before standing from the couch to get the requested water.

He walked back into the living room to see Little Daniel staring intently at the tv. The podium ceremony had started and Max watched as a younger version of himself and an older one of Daniel giggle with each other. He watched Little Daniel’s face to see if there was anything, any recognition.

“Maxy das you!” Little Daniel looked back at him, pointing to the screen excitedly and Young Max collected his P2 trophy. Little Daniel watched quietly as Older Daniel accepted his P1 and lifted it into the air, he bit his little palm.

“Whose that?” Max asked softly, pausing the screen on Older Daniel’s face. He knelt by the couch to be closer to Little Daniel’s eyeline.

“Das.. me?” Little Daniel asked barely looking away from the screen to look at Max who nodded. 

“That’s you.” Max confirmed. Little Daniel watched the screen a little bit longer and Max wondered what was going on in his head, he began twisting his hands together. “You won the race.”

“I won?” Little Daniel’s eyes widened impossibly, his mouth dropped open in shock.

“You were the fastest.” Max nodded, Little Daniel looked over at him in awe.

“I was da fastest.” His lips pulled backwards in a wide grin. “I WAS DA FASTESTS!” Little Daniel started zooming around the room, screaming his vrooming revs. Max grinned happily, there was no greater feeling than this.

[bad268]

hiii! any chance you could write a Sebastian Montoya enemies to lovers fic? in my Sebas era at the moment 🤩🥳

Because of You (Sebastian Montoya X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient I loved this request!)

Warnings: road rash, injury, mentions of being attacked, hurt/comfort, “i had nowhere else to go” i hate myself

Pronouns: First person (I/me)

W.C. 2015

Summary: Classic enemies to lovers with Sebas

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Racing was my life. For as long as I could remember, I was racing, and I was racing well. I rose through the ranks relatively quickly going straight from karting to single-seater championships within two years, and I was already catching the eyes of different Formula 1 teams.  

One thing is for certain: I had my fair share of haters. One of which was someone I looked up to while karting who then turned out to be my teammate in F4 and FRECA at Prema and eventually, in F3 for HiTech. That person would be none other than Sebastian Montoya.

It was all fine when we first met during preseason testing for F4. We were getting along great, found some common interests, and he gave me some tips and tricks he used to prepare for a race. All was well until the season started, and I started winning. 

It was like I was no longer a friend but a competitor, so I did what I always did and reciprocated the acts. If he was going to be cold to me, I would be cold right back. I was taught to never waste my time on people who didn’t deserve it, and when he ran me off the road during a crucial race of the FRECA season, I saw red.

“You gonna run me off the track again, Montoya?” I teased as we both walked out of the HiTech garage toward our new cars for free practice in Spielberg for the F3 race. “I don’t think the bosses would appreciate that, honestly.”

“If you stay out of my way, we won’t have a problem,” He sneered, rolling his eyes as he finished doing up his race suit. 

“Oh, trust me. I plan to be nowhere near you,” I laughed as I pulled my balaclava over my head and started preparing the straps to my helmet. “Besides, it’s not like I have a problem with keeping my nose clean.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed given that you crashed into Gabriele last week,” Sebastian mocked, pointing out my DNF from a couple of weeks ago.

“Because you turned wide!” I exclaimed, slamming my helmet down on the table. “You turned into me, and I took evasive action. It wasn’t my fault. You were the one that got the penalty, dumbass.”

“At least I finished the race,” he snickered as he turned to walk toward his car. 

“And at least I can run in the top 3,” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear. 

“Mind saying that a little louder?” Sebastian snapped, turning to face me as he came to stand directly in front of you.

“I said, at least I can run in the top 3,” I stated firmly, not backing down from his threatening stance. “At least I can say that I’ve won in Monaco. I’m keeping up in the title fight, and where are you? Oh, right! Down in 14th. Our gap is almost as bad as Alonso on Stroll.”

“My car is shit, and you know that,” he seethed, getting up in my face as he pointed a pinger at my chest. 

“Excuses, excuses. We have the same fucking car, Seb,” I pointed out as I glared at him. “We all have the same fucking car, so don’t blame the team for your shitty driving style. Maybe if you knew how to drive, you would keep up.”

“You two can fuck later, get in your cars!” Dino shouted from the next garage over as he put his helmet on.

“Shut up, Dino!”

~~

The race went great for me. I secured pole position, scored third in the sprint, and won the feature race. These points shot me up from third to leading the championship. I was on top of the world. I decided I was going to celebrate for the night before I left for the next race. 

I was walking through the streets of Monaco pretty late at night. I was pretty sure I knew where I was going but it was also my first time in Monaco. I should have followed the map closer. I don’t remember if I walked into a bad area or if it was some crazy haters. All that I remembered was them yelling at me.

“You’re stealing a seat from people who really deserve it!”

“You’re never going to win the championship!”

“Gabriel deserved that win! You’re just in his way!”

“Undeserved! You’re just lucky!”

At some point, it got physical, and they didn’t stop until they heard sirens in the vicinity. I was breathing heavily as I picked myself up off the ground, immediately taking notice of the soreness across my face and my limbs. Somehow, I limped my way back to the hotel I would need to check out of in the morning. 

I got into my room, and as soon as I saw my reflection, I broke. It hit like a ton of bricks (and looked like it too). I slid down the wall, letting it all out. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be in F3. Maybe I didn’t deserve my seat. There are definitely more talented drivers out there. Heck, Ollie swept the weekend at the last race in Baku, and I couldn’t get past Fornaroli for second in the sprint. Maybe they were right.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and moved toward the restroom to get a good look at the wounds and clean them. My right eye was black and bruised, there was a large gash on my eyebrow, my lip was bleeding, and don’t even get me started on the road rash on my arms and legs. I was going to need some supplies to clean these up.

I grabbed my room key and walked out to the hall. Hopefully, Dino or Paul would be in their rooms. Across the hall was Dino’s room to which he didn’t answer. I sighed, already knowing if Dino didn’t answer, he probably already left, and chances are Paul was also gone. Still, I moved over a door and knocked on Paul’s door. Of course, he’s gone too. 

They were the only people I talked to on the grid, and I was not about to swallow my pride and go to the lobby for a first aid kit. Just as I was about to head back into my room, I saw a light flash from under a door. Specifically, Sebastian’s door. How desperate was I going to get for this first aid kit? Enough to ask my sworn enemy for help? Yes. 

I sighed, walking up to his door. I hesitated before knocking. What was he going to say? What if he laughed? What if he just slammed the door in my face? What if- I didn’t let my mind run anymore as I hurriedly knocked. It took a couple of seconds, but a confused Sebastian opened the door. As soon as he registered it was me, his gaze hardened until he took into account my appearance, his eyes softening almost immediately.

“I had nowhere else to go,” I whispered as I bit my lip, already expecting him to turn me away. “Do you have a first aid kit I can borrow?”

“Who the fuck mauled you?!” He all about shouted as his jaw dropped.

“Shut up,” I hissed, covering his mouth as I pushed him into his room. I closed the door quickly as I flipped us, so I was leaning into him against the door. “Do you have any idea what time it is? You’re gonna wake someone up.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied sarcastically as he pushed my hand away from his face in annoyance but quicking wincing as he heard my hiss of pain as he rubbed against one of the road rashes on my arm. He sighed as he dropped his voice to a softer tone, “Sorry, it’s not every day your teammate shows up at your door bloody. Forgive me for freaking out.”

“No, it’s a valid response,” I admitted, stepping back to give him space. That’s when I notice his eyes looking me up and down, taking in all of the injuries. “I just need alcohol and bandages if you have any.”

“Here, hop on the counter,” He offered, leading me into the bathroom. “I’ll help you.” He put his hands on my waist to help me jump up as the rashes on my legs had started scabbing and it was getting difficult to bend them. We fell into a comfortable silence, surprisingly, as he started addressing the wounds on my legs first. As he moved up my legs, he would glance up at me, making sure I was comfortable with what he was doing, causing me to nod almost every time. The one time I didn’t nod immediately was when he got back to my hips and grabbed the end of my shirt. “What if there’s a rash on your side? Or something with your ribs?”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with taking my shirt off in front of you, Seb,” I said, honestly. “We’re constantly at each other’s throats. Who’s to say you won't make a comment about my body?”

“I would never,” He defended, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. How about I just lift it and do a quick check? If there’s nothing, we move to your arms.”

“Quick check,” I pressed, sending him a pointed look, “Nothing else.”

“Nothing else,” he smirked, pulling up my shirt a little and his eyes grew wide immediately. “So, good news and bad news. Good news, there’s no rash. Bad news, you are fifty shades of back and blue.”

“You’re kidding,” I gasped as I tried to turn around and look at my reflection, but quickly felt the pain from turning, causing me to hiss in pain again. “Okay, I believe you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He stood directly in front of me but refused to meet my eye.

“Why would you be sorry? It’s not like you did this,” I asked. He had no reason to apologize for something he didn’t do. “If anything, you’re making it better.”

“I just- if I had been nicer, if we had been friends, if I had gone out with you tonight, none of this would have happened,” he admitted. “Instead, I was in here, watching a movie while you were out getting attacked. I just feel like I could have prevented this somehow.”

“That is out of your control,” I told him. Of course, it was! “You can’t control how people feel toward me. You can’t control the haters.”

“But if you had someone with you, the haters probably wouldn’t have approached you,” he explained, finally meeting my gaze. “I could have protected you.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you hated me when I left the track. There’s no way you would have risked yourself on my behalf.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a fine line between hate and love,” Seb admitted. “Maybe I was jealous of your success. It’s hard being compared to my dad all the time, and I was finally doing good. No offense, but you came in out of nowhere and started dominating. I don’t know if I was just jealous or envious.”

“Really? I’m here because of you!”

“What?”

“You were my idol, Seb,” I chuckled. “I saw you at a karting competition a few years ago, and because of you, I started karting. I was so excited to race with you, and it was awesome getting to learn from you ahead of the season. Then, you just flipped, and I didn’t know what I did. All I knew was that suddenly you hated me, and I reacted back.”

“You’re here because of me? And because of me, we became enemies?” 

“Yeah, but because of me, we could be in our lover's arch,” I slipped in, jokingly. At least, it was supposed to be jokingly. Sebastian didn’t take it as a joke as he immediately leaned in and connected our lips in the first of many kisses.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls Season 2, Episode 15, "Lost And Found", Aka The Bracelet Has Breached Containment, Aka BraceletGate, Aka QuarterOnAStringGate, Part 4

As we round the bend and reach the shitty middle of the shitcircus that is Lost and Found, may I remind you what Dean, Lorelai, and Rory are going to war with Jess for:

I need a Quarter on A String prequel . I need the origins of this quarter and the sheer power it wields over pathetic people like Dean and Lorelai. It is fascinating to ponder. I mean, I know what a quarter looks like, but still, Is there someone with editing skills who can lighten this shot for me so we can have a better look at it? #Please Or maybe the Forresters took a family vacation, intending on leaving their son Dean at some distant gas station, never looking back, but before dumping him he got one of those pressed penny souvenirs they sell at rest stops.

(of course Dean first gave it to Rory outside when it was pitch dark so she would have to be like, oh yeah this is so nice Dean. Because she can't see a damn thing, and maybe in the moonlight it looks kinda pretty, but then when the sun rises Rory's like oh, it's just a fucking quarter. A quarter that now carries a heavy burden as it must be affixed to my wrist at all times or I'll face the wrath of Dean the Butt and My Mom The Butt).

Here we fucking go. Keep in mind Rory only cares so much about the Rest Stop Penny because Dean will be angry that she lost it. That's it. Why Lorelai cares so much about the RSP is a question only wise men can answer.

Jess quietly observing the freak show. I suppose asking for change from a dollar and punching a hole in a coin took a small amount of effort on Dean's part, but "made" is pushing it.

Ancient Technology/Discontinued Snack Food observation break!

Lorelai agreeing out loud that Dean's anger would have consequences for Rory that are too terrifying to contemplate Instead the Gilmore Girls GPS sends Lorelai right past "We Both Readily Agree That Dean's Anger Is Nothing to Mess With" Bouelvard and reroutes her to "it's okay he'll just make you another one" Street. Yes, I'm sure he can have another one made. Next time Clara's girl scout troop meets at his house he can give them a Quarter on a String arts and crafts project. For about the 200th time in just 1 and a half seasons, Rory tells her mother that Dean has an anger problem. Lorelai assures her that Dean will understand. Rory asks Lorelai how she can be so sure. Lorelai responds: "His track record points to him being understanding." A view of Lorelai's brain circuits:

But enough about your sexual fantasies again, Lorelai. I like the part about rendering Dean Forrester blind though.

Please hobble Lorelai GIlmore's knees with the rake. And now, a break down of how this episode and Teach Me Tonight are virtually the same story. -Something happens to Rory that is troublesome (loses her bracelet/ minor car accident) but Rory cares less about what happened to her than Lorelai does. Lorelai immediately dials the minor incident up to 11.

-Luke offers Jess up without his consent to either perform or receive some kind of service from or by one of the Gilmores (gutter slopping, tutoring). Lorelai reacts to these suggestions as if her very life is in danger. -The inatimate object at the center of the war was "made" by Dean (his car and his QOAS). -Dean will get mad at Rory for something happening to her that was no fault of her own -Lorelai becomes absolutely hysterical -Rory is like it's not THAT bad, I'll be fine Mom, maybe you're over reacting just a skosh -Lorelai is like you are not fine, daughter of mine! -The accident and the lost of the QOAS was not due to Jess being malicious or because he just likes to steal Rory's stuff and crash her cars but try telling Lorelai that -33 Year Old Lorelai Gilmore declares war with a teenage boy, has him exiled from town -Jess Mariano contemplates where his life went wrong and quietly wishes he was still living with his negligent alcoholic mother and her parade of abusive boyfriends (oh, right, that actually happens after TMT). We cut to Lorelai at work where she is crawling around on her hands on knees on the dirty motel (I'm sorry, INN) floor looking for Rory's bracelet under her desk. I guess Lorelai is like her own boss, she doesn't have someone above her, like a manager or something to tell her to stop loafing and looking for quarters while on the clock and demote her back to housekeeping duties. She also asked Michel to help her look for the QOAS and he is not amused. Great job Lorelai, making Americans look ridiculous in the eyes of Europeans, like we need any more of that. L: I turned the house upside down! Rory is having a heart attack! It's just awful! Rory having a heart attack:

When I tell you I am physically, literally WHEEZING over Lorelai Gilmore's dramatics. I completely forgot the Jess and Luke Looking for An Apartment b-story at the beginning of this episode. This episode is like slogging through mud so that plot feels like four years ago. Seen below, a Historical Curiosity: The birthplace of the Quarter on a String.

I love when Luke uses casual swear words. A much needed "Ass" in these trying times. This show could use more of them. Ass ass ass ass! Luke goes into one of his famous Nuclear Rants about the cost of apartment living (deposits! pet fees! parking fees! laundry fees!) so I guess Jess isn't going to be getting that seperate bedroom he was desperately hoping for. Whether its a rant about the pitfalls of marriage or shopping malls or rental properties or red meat, Luke Danes has his finger on the pulse of society.

Luke Danes appreciation. God, I appreciate you so much. I mean that in a totally non sexual way. Thank God you exist.

Okay, I forgot about Lorelai and Luke go looking at apartments together in this episode, which I remember to be quite enjoyable and full of delicious tension. Praise the lord, we have filler! I repeat, we have filler!

Lorelai leaves work in the middle of the day to go look at apartments with the local diner owner. In my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, the Independence Inn will have been purchased by some major hotel chain and Lorelai would be a victim of the first round of layoffs. We cut to Luke and Lorelai touring an empty apartment, where Lorelai offers to lick Luke's face. The real estate agent mistakes Luke for Lorelai's husband and Lorelai plays along and this whole scene is just....edible.

Luke: Yep, 14 years from now, I'm totally gonna make this crazy bitch my wife and even briefly consider reproducing with her. God, Lorelai is so downright tolerable and at times enjoyable to watch when she's sexually harassing Luke but her interactions with everyone else make me want to claw out my brain matter with my bare hands. But this tension right here??

Lor: What's wrong this place? Luke: It's too big. I don't need two bathrooms. Lor: Yes you do. And you and Jess will kill each other if you stay where you are. I gotta hand it to Lorelai. Because at least she's been advocating for Jess getting his own bedroom and bathroom. We know it won't happen, but the effort has not gone unnoticed. Can't wait for this minor bit of goodwill she's earned with me to be dashed to smithereens in the next few moments. Lor: It's a two year lease. Luke: Yeah, but who knows how long he's going to be here. Lor: Why? Did something happen? Oh, NOW you care about Jess. You're just trying to get in his uncle's pants. Luke: Even if he does stay, it'll only be for another year, and after that he'll go off to college, or Attica prison. Wrong on both counts, Lucas, but YOU go to jail (I think in season 5 or 6?) Still trying to figure out why everyone thinks Jess is a criminal. Although I believe with every beat of my cold black heart that Jess does eventually get his GED and go to college. Luke is sad about the fact that no matter what,Jess is going to leave him in the next few years, leaving Luke back at square one, living alone forever in this new apartment. I think the fact that he can admit, if only subtly and in his very emotionally closed off Luke Danes sort of way, that he would be lonely without Jess is nice. Even if he does think it'll be because he went to prison.

Or some crazy bish who turns her house upside down looking for a QOAS. You're fucked, Lucas. Still haven't arrived at the rotting meat of this episode. To be continued.

[leupagus]

In my head I'm calling this "its glory is all moonshine"

In which the most feared agent of the IMF requests uppies.

~~~

'Just get in the goddamn car, you fun-sized pain in my ass,' Luther bellowed. Ilsa tried not to flinch, but Luther had an impressive set of lungs. He'd been accepted to the Manhattan School of Music to sing opera, she'd heard, but had elected to attend MIT instead. What a different world it would be if Luther Stickell had gone onto the stage.

She and Benji and Ethan would probably be dead, for a start.

They were standing (or sitting, in Ethan's case) outside the Sir Ganga Ram Hospital in New Delhi, where they'd all been unceremoniously deposited following the mission in Kashmir three days ago. Ilsa had a somewhat disoriented memory of the journey here — 'Spot of concussion, I should think,' a cheerful round-faced doctor had told her — but the last day and a half was clear enough: dozing in one of the chairs in Ethan's room, playing pinochle with Benji at a nearby cafe, arguing with Luther about which season of Call the Midwife was best while they floated lazily in the hotel pool.

'You're not really selling me on this,' Ethan was saying, rolling his wheelchair back and forth. 'The last time I got in a car with you, you drove us off a cliff.'

'You drove a helicopter off a cliff the other day,' Ilsa reminded him. Ethan made the face that she was rapidly associating with him admitting the point but being deeply unhappy about it.

Luther, meanwhile, had finished shoving the last of their things into the boot. 'Do I have to carry you bridal-style? Because I've done it before and I will do it again.'

Ethan gave him a long look, then lifted his arms. 'What did your daughter used to call it?' he asked. 'Uppies?'

'Fuck you, Hunt,' Luther said, stomping over to the car. 'I'm driving.'

'Do I get shotgun?' Ethan called after him.

'Up your ass, maybe.'

Ilsa glanced over at Benji. 'Are they always like this?'

'Usually worse, I'm afraid,' he muttered back.

'I thought they were just catty with each other because of — you know, the job.'

'No, he's been verbally abusing me for almost twenty-two years,' Ethan said, absently tilting his wheelchair until Benji, impatient, hip-checked the back of it and sent Ethan crashing back down to all four wheels. 'And this guy's been physically abusing me for thirteen.'

'Twelve,' Benji corrected. 'And genuinely, Ethan, please remove thine arse from the wheelchair and get in the car.'

'You haven't told me where we're going,' he said, tilting again. Ilsa was almost impressed by how deeply irritating he was. Three days ago he'd been half-dead on that mountain; now he was trying to get his own colleagues to kill him.

'America,' she informed him, righting his chair a bit more gently than had Benji; Ethan still looked outraged at the presumption. 'You are, according to the doctors, in need of rest and relaxation.'

'I don't know what you've heard about America, but it's not a very restful place right now,' Ethan observed.

Benji made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, like he'd swallowed an eggroll sideways. 'Please, for the love of all that is holy in this world, get in.'

'Well, since you used the magic word,' said Ethan, levering himself upright. It looked painful and ill-advised. 'Am I supposed to be doing this?' he asked, wobbling slightly.

Ilsa got under his right arm as Benji grabbed for his left. 'We'll have to ask Luther when the last time you asked if you were supposed to be doing something,' she said, and his soft chuckle was warm in her ear.

'I get no respect,' he murmured, then complained loudly when she shoved him into the backseat and took shotgun for herself.

~~~

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[wisdomssdaughterr]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER TWO → QUESTIONS WITHOUT ANSWERS

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown. 

word count. 3.5k

warnings: cannon typical violence, child-abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. slight cannon divergence. 

previous chapter ← → next chapter

“Holy shit.” 

Those were the only two words that formed on Steve’s lips when he stared at the girl in front of him. He wiped his sweaty hands off on his jeans and stayed rooted in place, not taking his eyes off her. She stared back at him, looking just as panicked. 

Steve cleared his throat and choked up a couple more words from his dry throat. “D-Do you need to go to the hospital or something? Should I, uh, call someone o-or…” He trailed off, having never been in a situation even remotely close to his current one.

The unknown girl said nothing, but she did shake her head and hold her arms close to her chest that heaved. Her wild eyes darted between him and the rest of his home. 

Steve shifted his focus away from her bloodied and bruised face and noted the hospital gown that hung off her skinny frame. That caused another rush of questions to flood his brain. Had she already been to the hospital? How did she end up in the woods then? The nearest hospital to Hawkins was miles out, not very long by car but a good few hours on foot. 

What could have driven someone to run away from a hospital? 

None of it made sense. 

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Steve asked, though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. 

The girl dropped her gaze onto the floor in a moment of hesitation before she nodded slowly, and Steve’s stomach twisted and sank. 

That was just fantastic; the girl in his kitchen, leaving bloody footprints on his floor was in trouble. 

“Who are you in trouble with?” 

For a second, he thought she was going to speak to him when her lips parted. But, before a word fell from her tongue, her whole body swayed forward, and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

Reflexively, Steve stepped forward in an attempt to stop her from passing out on the kitchen floor, but the second his fingers grazed her arm, she jerked back hastily. 

A startling look flashed in her eyes as she stumbled backward until her back hit the kitchen island. Steve pulled his hand away and let out a breath. 

She was scared and she was in trouble. That, and there was a chance she was bleeding out right there in front of him. If he wanted somewhat of a solid answer from the strange girl, he’d have to do something to make sure she didn’t pass out or die inside his house; that would’ve required a whole lot of explaining to the cops and his parents. 

Maybe if he had drunk less at Tommy’s, he would have done the smart thing that called the cops, but he felt a little too tipsy to make a smart decision. 

“Uh, okay,” Steve said slowly, putting distance between himself and the girl to not freak her out anymore. “How about this? I’ll grab you some clothes and you can clean up in the bathroom, okay?” 

She seemed to mull over his offer, staring at him with an unreadable expression before she gave in with a short nod. 

Steve slipped out of the kitchen and ventured down the hall into the laundry room. He dug through a fresh basket of clothes with shaky hands until he pulled out a random pair of sweats and a shirt. 

There was a little voice in the back of his head that told him there was something really, really wrong about the whole situation. That wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to. For all he knew, the girl could’ve been crazy or some kind of criminal. Yet, he was offering up a pair of pajamas like she was some girl who passed out at one of his pool parties and woke up after everyone was everyone gone. Though, those girls only had nasty headaches and sometimes emptied their stomachs in his bathroom. They were never sporting hospital gowns, bloodied faces, or alarming bruises. That situation was different, a hell of a lot different. But he needed the morning to come to approach whatever he was going to do with a sober head and in the comfort of daylight. 

When he returned to the kitchen, she hadn’t moved from her spot, but she did flinch at the sound of his approaching footsteps. 

She was skittish - too skittish for some kind of murderer, Steve wanted to believe. 

“The bathroom’s down the hall there,” he pointed down the hall he just came from. “It’s the first door on the right. And there’s a first aid kit under the sink if you need it.” 

Steve would have offered to help, but she didn’t seem to want anyone near her. 

All of her movements were hesitant and careful as she crossed the short distance between them and grabbed the clothes he held out for her. She followed his directions and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Steve alone to figure out what he was supposed to do next. 

He found himself looking at the phone mounted on the wall on the other side of the kitchen. The girl said she was in trouble, and she looked like hell, but when he asked her if he should call someone, she looked even more terrified. 

It wasn’t like the cops in Hawkins were the greatest anyway; it was just a collection of deadbeat officers who were only equipped to handle the small, petty crimes of the small town. 

Maybe it was a mistake or a terrible idea, but he decided against the little voice in his head. Besides, he didn’t want to have to explain why he was in the woods in the first place, and he reeked of beer. If his dad or Tommy’s dad found out they were drinking on a school night, they were as good as dead. 

Again, that little voice told him he should’ve been more concerned about the girl in his house who looked like a ghost than whether or not his father would yell at him, but Steve never prided himself on his good decision-making skills. 

Maybe he was so confused and conflicted because nothing weird ever happened in Hawkins. There weren’t strange girls in the woods or animals that chased you down. It had been like that for as long as Steve could recall. 

In fact, there was only one time were Hawkins felt thrown off its axis. The details were fuzzy inside his head, but he remembered being little and dressed in an uncomfortable pair of slacks and forced to wear a tie. The memory of mother kneeling in front of him, smoothing down his collar with tears rolling down her cheeks, stained his brain. She held his hand so tight it hurt. Steve didn’t remember why, he just remembered feeling weird for a long time. 

Shaking his head to rid it of that memory, he tried to sort out his plan. 

The girl ran away from what he assumed was some kind of hospital because of the paper gown. He didn’t know why she ran away, but it probably had something to do with the fact that she was in trouble. She was young, somewhere around his age, and the only people his age were ever in trouble with were their parents. There were plenty of shitty parents in Hawkins. But that didn’t explain the blood or the bruises. That was unless it was the parents who did that. 

The thought made his stomach ache. 

Or course, it was possible the blood wasn’t hers; maybe she hurt someone. That seemed improbable, though. She was short and skinny, not very menacing. The bruises on her limbs looked both new and old, and she had moved away from him each time he got too close with a look he could describe as fearful in her eyes. 

Maybe she just needed help. 

With a heavy sigh, Steve ran a hand through his hair and stared at the bloodied footprints on the tiles. In an attempt to solve one issue at a time, he grabbed a rag from the sink and rummaged around the kitchen cabinets for something to clean them with. 

The last thing he needed was to have to explain what was going on to his parents. They were out of town on another business trip, but they wouldn’t be cool with some stranger inside their home that not even Steve knew. It was better for everyone if they never knew any of what happened that night. 

Kneeled on the ground, scrubbing the stains, he came to a lazy but simple plan. 

She was in trouble, and sure, there was a small chance she was some kind of criminal, but she looked sickly and scared. Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach it if he kicked her out and then woke up the following morning with the headline of the paper reading that they found a dead teenage girl in the woods. So, he’d offer up his couch for the night, pray she didn’t murder him, and then send her on her way in the morning. Then, once she was gone, it would be like nothing ever happened. Steve would go to school, woo the pretty sophomore he had his eye on all year, and everything would go back to normal.

Simple enough, Steve thought. 

He’d steer clear of the woods for a while and pretend the entire night was some weird, beer-induced nightmare. 

The little voice in the back of his head wasn’t super stoked about his plan, but he was too tired to care. He was used to running, but not after too many slices of greasy pizza, and not through the woods in the dark. His legs ached and his head hurt; he wanted to go to bed. 

Rain rolled down the glass backdoor, and something pulled inside Steve’s gut when he looked out into the darkness of his backyard.

→←

Stripped of the dirty paper gown, Sunshine put on the new set of clothing she was given. Then, she worked on scrubbing every inch of exposed skin until it was raw and red, but free of blood and dirt. 

The clothes fit a couple of sizes too big, but they were soft and warm against her cold skin. They were much nicer than the paper gown she’d grown used to. 

Sunshine had no idea what she was doing. One moment, she was pushing her way out the back door of Hawkins National Laboratory, and the next she was sprinting through the woods from some kind of shadow that growled in the darkness. 

While she ran, she only spared one look over her shoulder in an attempt to make out what the shadow was. It was some kind of creature, but it didn’t look like any animal she had learned about in books she used to read. The creature was faceless, and it towered feet taller than her. She caught a quick flash of its claws in the scarce moonlight, but she heard its growls clear as day. 

When she started sprinting, Sunshine didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep going. There was a cocktail of injuries mixed on the inside and outside of her body; both old and new. She thought the creature would catch up to her, but she weaved between the trees just enough to keep it at a distance. 

What happened after moved in such a blur. She collided hard with something, someone, and ended up inside his bathroom, in his clothes, at an utter, confusing loss. 

All Sunshine knew was that she was far from safe. She wouldn’t be until she and her sister were far away from where the doctors from the Lab could reach them. Vile men, who had pulled countless children apart at their seams until they were unrecognizable. Hot and cold affection. Dangerous favoritism. Too many lies that she wasn’t sure there was any truth in the things they told her. 

They’d come for her and Eleven; they probably already were. They were the last two experiments left, and they were no longer confined behind locked doors. The two of them held the capability to bring down the entire operation, but Sunshine was less concerned with revenge. She wanted to run away with Eleven in tow and go somewhere where no one could hurt them ever again. 

All she had to do was find her sister. 

But the woods were home to strange creatures and Sunshine had the horrible feeling that wasn’t some coincidence that something monster-like lived in the same woods the Lab was located in. 

There was something that happened that night inside the Lab. Alarms had rung out before Sunshine was even out of her room. The red emergency light flooded the halls before Eleven ripped open Sunshine’s door and took her hand without a word. There was no time to ask questions when freedom was the closest it had ever been. There were too many ghosts that haunted the building, and too much blood on everyone’s hands. They were handed an opportunity, and they took it. 

Unfortunately, they were split up. Eleven was out there, alone, in the woods. She hoped that her sister kept running until she found somewhere safe. That was all she could do, hope, but it didn’t feel like enough. 

She was alone too, in a world she didn’t remember, riddled with worry over Eleven, with bad people after her, a faceless monster in the woods, and inside a stranger’s house. 

It all made her want to scream. She needed to find Eleven before anyone from the Lab did. She couldn’t fail her; she couldn’t risk losing anyone else and becoming truly alone. 

Sunshine placed her hands on the basin of the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t realize she’d been crying until she saw the tears streak down her red and blue cheeks. 

She’d never studied her reflection that close before. The only time she caught glimpses of herself was in the one-way mirrors of the observation rooms inside the Lab. She saw herself from afar, but never close enough to see the hollows of her cheeks or the popped blood vessels that splintered like lightning strikes down and around her nose. 

Under the soft lighting of the stranger’s bathroom, Sunshine stared at the confusing image of herself. She saw someone who was scared with red-rimmed, dull, eyes. She saw Subject 007, an experiment that was never supposed to see the light of day, ironically enough. 

Her black hair was tangled in knots that had grown out just below her ears; she ran her finger through the strands in an attempt to detangle them. Then, she found the first aid kit under the sink and cleaned up the split-open skin along the palm of her hands, her knees, and the soles of her feet. 

A sigh fell from her lips as she wiped the rouge tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, seated on the edge of the tub. 

She was exhausted. The combination use of her abilities and running through the woods left her dead on her feet. She wouldn’t be able to use her abilities again that night without causing serious damage to herself, which left her in a tough spot. 

Tilted her chin upwards towards the ceiling, Sunshine closed her eyes and silently wished on every star that hung in the cloudy night sky that her sister had found somewhere safe for the night and that the boy in the next room over wasn’t someone she’d had to fight. Maybe it was the tiredness that plagued her brain and muddied her rational senses, but she hoped that he wasn’t another bad man with twisted motives. That was her only line of defense, hope. 

Hesitantly, she left the bathroom and made her way back into the kitchen, where the boy paced back and forth while he mumbled to himself. 

Her steps altered him, and he stopped his pacing, looking at her. 

Sunshine shrunk under his gaze and crossed her arms over her chest, while uncomfortable silence stretched between them. 

The boy must’ve realized that she wasn’t going to speak first. He blinked and blew some air from his cheeks before he broke the silence. “Uh, I’m Steve.” She stared at him blankly for a moment. “And your name is…?” 

“Oh,” she mumbled through her raw throat and tried to clear her scratchy voice while she thought of what she was supposed to say. 

Inside the Lab, to all the doctors and scientists, she was Seven. The number was permanently inked on her wrist, stained on her skin like a birthmark she never asked for. The name Sunshine had been a gift, and it was only ever used by her sisters and brothers when they were alone. 

The name was given to her by a girl who could slither into minds and tangle them up into messy webs. Yet, despite the dangerous and deadly abilities of the oldest child in the Lab, she had always been kind and careful with Sunshine. Her name felt safe on the older girl’s lips, but it was treated like a secret that wasn’t to be uttered in front of any lab workers; they refused to see the children as anything more than laboratory experiments. 

She wasn’t inside the Lab anymore. 

“Sunshine,” she finally said. 

The name sounded odd on her lips, but not bad, she just wasn’t used to saying it aloud. Besides Eleven, there was no one left who called her that. But there, inside the strange boy’s home, she had the chance to drive the first wedge between herself and the Lab. 

He, Steve, stared at her for a long moment with his brows raised. “Your name is…Sunshine?” She nodded and didn’t question it further. “Right, okay.” He looked hesitant like he was trying to figure her out as he spoke. “So…y-you said you were in trouble. Who are you in trouble with, exactly?” 

A painful ache flooded her chest, restricting her lungs. Her ears still rang with the alarms and the shouts of soldiers. 

It wasn’t safe for her to give him the real answer, not when she knew the lengths the Lab would go to keep their secrets buried. There wasn’t a doubt in Sunshine’s mind that they’d do whatever they deemed necessary, no matter how cruel, to keep their screw-up out of the public’s eye, even if that meant hurting people who never meant to get involved in the first place. She didn’t want to put anyone in danger, and she couldn’t risk telling the truth and getting herself dragged back into the Lab. 

“Bad men,” she whispered. 

Steve only seemed to grow more confused. “Bad men? What kind of “bad men”?” 

Despite his question, Sunshine’s attention wandered off to look around the house she was in, but she didn’t move from her spot. 

The room just off the kitchen was illuminated by a single lamp aglow on an end table beside the couch. It provided just enough light to allow her to make out the colorfully decorated room, lined with bookshelves and framed photographs on the walls. The pictures all held a smiling, happy family. 

Sunshine wondered if all homes looked like that; colorful and warm. It was such a stark contrast to what she was used to, it almost didn’t feel real. 

Steve cleared his throat, drawing her attention once more. “Did they, the bad men, hurt you?” He sounded unsure of his question like maybe he didn’t want to know her answer. 

She stayed quiet and, instead, took in his appearance. 

He looked young, probably around her age, much to her relief. That eased some of the worries that overwhelmed her brain. He had a naive look inside his dark eyes that gave away his age, and his confused curiosity. 

Slowly, she nodded in response to his question and watched as his eyes grew wide with panic. There was another stretch of silence that followed as Steve started pacing again. 

“You can stay here,” he said quickly, catching Sunshine off guard. “For the night. Y-You can stay here for the night. It’s late and my parents, they’re out of town so they won’t care. It’s fine.” He sounded more like he was reassuring himself than her. 

She knew was in dangerous territory. As long as she stayed so close to the Lab she was in danger. But she stood a better chance of staying the night inside a warm home with a seemingly harmless teenager than out in the woods where bad men and faceless creatures lurked. 

Her muscles ached and she was in no condition to fight anyone or anything. One night’s sleep and she’d be back to some semblance of normal. Then, she’d leave when the sun rose, find Eleven, and they’d put as much distance between themselves and that town as possible. It sounded easy enough.

tagged → @ican-nevergo-home @sattlersquarry @suniloli

[bennydwight]

TGAMM Observations, Theories, Headcanons Pre Season 2

Long post!

1.      Scratch never tells Molly his name in episode one (there’s a theory on this that his name was divulged to her as part of the curse, since it also gave her the ability to summon him with his name)

2.      In ‘The (Un)natural’, Bartholomew can be seen writing in a cutaway scene, a diary entry saying “Dear diary, I had the strangest dream last night”

3.      In the same cutaway scene, we can see the McGees moved into the house June 2

4.      Other entries in Scratch’s scare report read:

·        06/01 Pizza Steve (I get him every time!)

·        06/08 Kid with Umbrella (Transformed into umbrella. Classic Rainy Day scare)

·        06/15 Wilderscouts (Used Howlin’ Harriet story to scare campers)

5.      In the beginning of Howlin’ Harriet, there’s a brief moment where Scratch puts his hand to his chin, deep in thought. Geoff notices and, a beat later, copies the position

6.      Weird amount of Canada references. Cousin Carl from Canada, Cousin Milly from Canada, in The Lucky Penny there’s a crashed car with a Canadian sticker on the window. When Molly is looking up a Bat Mitzvah there’s a recommended video about ghost hauntings in Toronto (it has four views and was posted eight years ago). The very last moving box in Out of House And Home has a shipping sticker that says Toronto. I’d be tempted to say that’s the last place the McGees moved from if not for Molly knowing nothing of Canada. The syrup bottle in Citizen McGee has a maple leaf on it. I’d be offended at the stereotypes if I weren’t so jazzed for the representation

7.      Despite claiming to be touch adverse, Scratch can be seen instigating physical contact even as soon as First Day Frights, where he puts his arm around Molly and pokes her nose. The touching gets more affectionate as the season goes on, but even at the end of Friend-Off (where he’s arguably ‘known’ Libby less than two days and has been fighting with her for most of that time) he initiates and seems comfortable with friendly contact

8.      Scratch first admits he may be ‘McGee adjacent’ in The Greatest Concert Ever, but (as far as I know) there isn’t a solid moment where he embraces the McGee name fully. It just kinda pops up later on

9.      Scratch is already calling Nin ‘Grandma Nin’ by the end of The Curse (which isn’t groundbreaking, I just think it’s a cute detail that he already calls her grandma)

10.   In The Best Of Nin-tentions he also calls Sharon ‘mom’, but I’m not sure whether that’s because he just does now, or because he was using Molly’s words

11.   The gravestones in Andrea’s film set in Hooray for Mollywood read ‘Howlin’ Harriet’, ‘Howlin’ Harriet’s Toes’, and ‘SK’. I wonder if the last one might be Scratch’s, but that’s just a theory seeing as how we don’t know his surname

12.   Scratch was alive sometime before the invention of the internet (a safe assumption) and after the invention of colour tv. Possibly died in the 70s-80s era?

13.   If the Ghost World doesn’t get anything until after it’s dead, how come they have mochas? Or clubs? Also Scratch is shown with a smartphone at least once in Scarin’ is Carin’

14.   Scratch may also have some variation of size-manipulation power, seeing as there’s a functional pizza box with a to-scale pizza laying around his dollhouse. Maybe it’s just a way he creatively uses curses idk

15.   The. The medical bill in Out Of House And Home guys. It’s just. Look at it. Friggin. Z Ray (x2). Minus $0.49 for insurance. The epitome of America’s medical system. Would be funny if it weren’t so true

16.   Also, hard to see the date on there, but I think it’s 05/14/21 if you’re looking for a timeline. Seeing as we’ve had a Christmas episode, this would probably mean the McGees moved in June 2, 2020

17.   Historically, the larger Scratch gets, the less stable his form is. Might just be for scary effect, but might also be a mass-displacement or concentration thing

18.   But he has no trouble maintaining consistency when he shrinks, so maybe all ghosts just have a maximum comfortable size

19.   Some aspects of transformation appear to be instinctive and subconscious, linked to a ghost’s moods, instead of all shape changes being intentional (most clearly seen in The (Un)natural)

20.   The repossession notice in Out Of House And Home is in Sharon’s name, and I admittedly don’t know a lot about mortgages, but does that mean the house is in her name? Isn’t Pete the primary breadwinner in the beginning of the show?

21.   The McGees have a ricecooker in their kitchen! I thought that was a cool detail

22.   The home purchase agreement is a little hard to read in Home is Where the Haunt Is, but it says “I, [blank], agree to buy the property at [address, I can’t read it] even if it is [a tiny bit haunted]. This contract is legally binding and Candace Green cannot be liable for anything”. Candace absolutely knew about Scratch before he revealed himself

23.   Molly has type A blood, but whether it’s negative or positive isn’t specified (hello, blood poisoning). Also, flyers in the background promote Debate club, which implies she’d donating at school. As USA blood donation requires most donors to be a minimum of 16 years old (with parental consent) or 110 lbs, we can conclude that the school is illegally harvesting blood from the student body

24.   Why do they… why do they draw Scratch’s butt like that

25.   Libby’s left handed!

26.   The cart stunt at the beginning of No Good Deed is referenced in Darryl’s file as ‘Incident 314’

27.   Scratch doesn’t cast a shadow

28.   I don’t know why, but there’s a red sticker that shows up in the school a lot, especially around the lockers, and it just says ‘Souffle’

29.   Apparently Scratch has shared custody of Molly’s phone

30.   Who did the subtitles on DisneyPlus I just wanna talk

Feel free to add on/expand/debate if you feel the desire! I’m mostly just putting these here so they’ll stop swimming around in my head

[rickybaby]

???

i don't want to be rude, but it's very clear that norris was talking about winning races (plural) across a season, consistently, because of the team's progress in performance as a whole. hence why he said "races" and not "a race" as some of the headlines make out.

daniel did exceptionally well at monza 2021, and absolutely nothing can take that win away from him, but from the team perspective (which norris is speaking from) literally everything went their way that day.

the car was practically perfectly suited to the track, bottas took an engine penalty and perez did poorly in both quali and the sprint, the team gave daniel essentially a perfect pitstop and strategy and two of his main rivals for the race win crashed eachother out, etc.. etc...

mclaren as a team, and norris by extension, do not want the only opportunity to win to be in as exceptional circumstances as those. because they only come along once in a blue moon.

there is nothing malicious here; it's not a slight. it's a fluff piece talking about the progress of mclaren getting to a point being a seriously competitive team on a consistent basis.

sorry for the long message but like, come on.

I’m sorry maybe I’m just dumb, but didn’t zak brown literally say that Lando could have won three races in a row in 2021??? Doesn’t that imply they were in a position to consistently win races in 2021?? So which is it because I need people to pick a lane and stick with it because I’m getting whiplash

it’s funny you say Daniel won because the team gave him the perfect pitstop and strategy. Sure these things can make or break a race but what are you doing as a team if you’re not aiming for perfect pitstops and strategies every single race weekend even when you don’t have a race-winning car? Are you just showing up with your thumbs up your arse and hoping for good vibes?? Oh yeah I forgot — it’s mclaren. They’ll always find a way to undercut the other driver in favour of the other specific one

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

I'm just thinking about how Jamie Scott had the most stable childhood on One Tree Hill. It is One Tree Hill so the writers did put Jamie through a lot of trauma unfortunately but I mean in terms of what his parental situation was like.

Nathan had two parents but his mother was seemingly absent for a good portion of his first 16 years of life. His father was emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive to him growing up.

Brooke's parents were emotionally absent and almost entirely physically absent. Her father continually cheated on her mother and they constantly fought so Brooke's life was very tumultuous.

Peyton had a biological mother who died of cancer and adoptive mother who died in a car crash both before Peyton graduated high school. When she did finally meet her biological father he tried his damndest to keep her from even finding out that he was her dad and he's also an alcoholic. Her adoptive father works on dredging boats. I believe they're dredging boats but either way his job takes him away from Peyton almost constantly so she lives in their house alone for the majority of any given year except for the occasional visit on his off time.

Lucas had a loving mother which is amazing but his biological father was a horrible evil person. He had the same dad as Nathan so as you can see from the section talking about Nathan's childhood... Dan was very abusive. With Lucas it was a very different situation. Dan was completely absent and then when Lucas joined the basketball team, he started to see more of Dan and started to see more of the abusive tendencies aimed his way.

Haley had loving and present parents but she does allude to them maybe not being the most stable like when she says "Besides, I just really don't want to be one of those moms that's, like, completely overwhelmed and unprepared and always screaming at her kids the way my mom used to be. Oh, it was crazy."

Then you have Jamie. Jamie is the child of Nathan and Haley. Nathan ended the cycle of abuse that had been going on for generations. Royal seemingly verbally abused Dan and Dan verbally and/or physically abused both of his sons. But Nathan made the choice to be a good man, a loving faithful husband, and a present wise and loving father. He encouraged his son to live up to his potential but he didn't put unreasonable expectations on him. He found a way to live his dreams but also put his wife and children above his career goals. He made time for his son and daughter. He's dependable, solid, and wise. Haley is a sweet, loving, and protective mother who would do anything for her children. It's really touching and beautiful to see Nathan and Haley give their son and daughter a life that none of the other main characters got. There's a reason that when Peyton thinks there's a chance that she could die during child birth she makes a video for her daughter and has this to say about Nathan and Haley "But if you ever need a mom-and-dad fix, you have Nathan and Haley for that." Everyone deserves parents like Naley. They are funny, they love each other and they love their children, they love and care for their friends. They are truly special people 💜💜

And, yes, Brooke, Peyton, and Lucas also gave their children great lives. The only difference is that with Jamie/Lydia we really got to see this played out and exemplified for many years. Lucas and Peyton left the show right after Peyton gave birth and with Brooke, we only saw one season of her and Julian with their twins and i'm not sure that year is a good example of how those children will grow up. Julian accidentally left one child in the car for hours (thankfully the baby lived) and also a lot of other shit was going on in S9. But I know that Brooke is amazing mother and Julian despite that horrible mistake has learned from it and will be an amazing father.

In summation Jamie and Lydia's childhood is such a unique dynamic that is not usually shown on One Tree Hill and it's such a beautiful thing 💗💗💜💜

[nancys4gf]

more jonathan bf fluff!!! jon my beloved!!! well ya know in season three when the group is reunited in the mall? like nancy, jon and the kids with steve, robin and dustin and erica? maybe reader is with steve and robin and they reunite with jonathan after being obviously worried sick fighting monsters and russians and not being able to contact one another? just good ol cute reunion stuff

this love came back to me | jonathan byers

summary: after fighting your own battles separately, you and jonathan reunite.

pairing: jonathan byers x gender neutral reader

warnings: mentions of injuries

note: i loved loved this request, anon!!! i'm so sorry it took so long for me to post it. my blog got shadowbanned :/ it still hasn't been fixed, but i hope this finds you and that it is of your liking!! :D thank you for requesting! also, pushing my jonathan forehead kisses agenda.

̟ ̇.˚︵‿୨♡୧‿︵˚.✩

everything suddenly went silent. robin, steve, dustin, erica and you glanced at one another. holding erica’s hand, you gathered enough courage to stand up and peek from the counter you had been hiding behind. 

the men who had been chasing you were lying unconscious on the ground, and a car was rolled over in the middle of the mall. steve’s breath caught in his throat, and dustin’s face lit up. you followed his gaze, until a smile crept across your face.

you didn’t even realize you were running. your legs were still shaking, but that didn’t stop you. he was running towards you as well, eyes wide with an odd mixture of worry and relief. 

“jonathan.” you breathed out, almost crashing against him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“god, i was so worried.” he whispered, his hands finding the back of your head. you held him tighter, not wanting to spend another second not touching him. 

“me too.” 

he was actually there. he was alright. you were together again. and that was all that mattered.

you looked at him. the eyes that always brought you so much comfort were tired now, with dark bags under them. some bruises gave his skin a purple and green tint, and you noticed he was bleeding as well. very carefully, you traced your fingers along his skin.

“you’re hurt.” you whispered. 

“i’m okay. everything’s okay. i’m just glad you're safe.”

“i thought…” you paused, a lump forming in your throat. “i was scared i wasn’t going to see you again.”

jonathan cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “i’m here. i’m always here.”

you nodded, placing your own hands on top of his. they were cold and dry, yet he held you more tenderly than you had ever been held before.

jonathan looked you up and down, searching for any sign that you had been hurt. his gaze finally set on your face, and just like you had done, he traced his fingers along the bruise on your forehead, making you wince.

“it’s nothing,” you smiled, wanting to ease his panicked expression. “i fell on my face when we were running away from the russians.”

“russians?” he blinked. “what russians?”

“i’ll tell you all about it.” you chuckled at his bewilderment. “but for now, i just want to kiss you. if that’s okay.”

a smile grew on his face as he pulled you closer to him. jonathan didn’t usually prefer being affectionate around other people, but now, he didn’t care about anything that wasn’t you. and he didn't waste a second joining your lips together.

throughout all the time you had spent apart, you had been breathing underwater, barely surviving. but as soon as he kissed you, you knew you could finally breathe again.

his mouth was warm against yours, moving with an urgency that corresponded with your own. you knew he had been just as worried as you, and even though neither of you had any desire to pull away, you clung to each other as if scared the other would disappear.

when you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. your eyes were still closed, and you could feel his agitated breath against your face as he whispered,

“i really needed you.”

“it looks like you were in good hands.” you teased, glancing at el and the destroyed car.

“i’ll always need you.” he planted a kiss on your forehead. “we’re a team.”

you smiled, pulling his hand towards your mouth, leaving a kiss on his injured knuckles.

“i needed you, too.” 

“don’t you dare leave my side again.” he warned, leaning in and lingering his lips over yours.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.”