#however the season finale should be coming along sometime i think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinofwriting · 8 months ago

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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.”

Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.”

He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Not gonna tell me it gets easier?”

He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know.

“I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs.

She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.”

He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back.

“You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

“Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go.

She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.”

He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.”

He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly.

“You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.”

He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.”

“Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.”

Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.”

He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock.

“He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.”

“Madelyn and Daniel?”

She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.”

One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.”

“Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.”

“Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table.

“Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.”

She makes a humming noise.

“C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.”

Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle.

He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.”

“Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.”

He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?”

Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.”

Logan both blushes and preens at the same time.

Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.”

He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.”

She laughs, “good gin and tonic?”

He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.”

She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,”

“Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.”

Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.”

“We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts.

“Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused.

“Ah.”

“Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.”

She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases.

The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?”

She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.”

Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.”

“Your work allows you to do that?”

Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.”

“You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.”

“I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious.

“No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.”

“Manager?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.”

“Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?”

“Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him.

He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice.” She smiles.

Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.”

Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him.

“You seemed a bit more relaxed.”

“No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.”

Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.”

Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?”

He shrugs as best as he can.

“I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.”

“You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs.

Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.”

“What happened?”

“She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.”

Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.”

The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies.

“What?”

“I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.”

“Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

“I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.”

Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?”

Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?”

“The one that gave Fred shit.”

“I thought she died?”

The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?”

“Mate, you didn’t hear about that?”

“No!”

“She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.”

“How do I not remember this?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,”

“No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.”

“Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.”

Logan groans, “Os, no.”

“Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.”

“Oscar, please, it’s my mom.”

“She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush.

He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.”

“Lando was looking.”

Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.”

He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.”

“He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns.

“I saw that too.”

“But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?”

Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.”

“Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?”

“I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.”

Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.”

“We all want to age like her.” George agrees.

“What are you saying?” Fernando frowns.

A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.”

Fernando frowns, “Lines?”

Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank.

Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.”

The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck.”

“Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,”

“He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her.

“He did it! He did it!” She cheers.

The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.”

“Got it. Where’s Alex?”

She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.”

Both of her hands fly up to her mouth.

“Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.”

She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.”

“Holy fuck.”

The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes.

“You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.”

She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.”

“Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.”

“I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried.

“You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.”

She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?”

He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.”

“He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her.

His smile widens as he takes the seat.

“I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear.

“I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?”

She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.”

“Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.”

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?”

“You did.”

“Sweet.”

“Very. How’s the head?”

Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.”

She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.”

“Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it.

She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.”

“True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.”

“I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.”

“Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.”

“Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?”

“It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.”

His brows press together. “Max?”

“Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.”

“You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.”

“I go on dates.”

“Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.”

She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists.

“Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?”

“Yes.”

“Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?”

Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,”

Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?”

“Oh.”

Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.”

“I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!”

He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces.

“Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?”

He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press.

“But how are you feeling about it?”

Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.”

He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.”

“P10 and P9.”

He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.”

“Not yours?”

He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.”

Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?”

Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.”

“Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.”

“And if I go into the wall?”

Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?”

Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.”

“Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.”

Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.”

He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him.

“And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his.

“So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say.

“I’m a mom.”

He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.”

“Logan is important to me.”

Oh, god, did Logan not like him?

“The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.”

“Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.”

“I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?”

Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.”

He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.”

“His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right.

“His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?”

“No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.”

She stares at him, lips pressed together.

He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.”

She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?”

“The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears.

“I am his mother, just adopted.”

“Not that either of you see it that way.”

“No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.”

“Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.”

“Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.”

“How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch.

“Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun.

Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach.

“What?”

“How was your date last night?”

Her smile widens. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?”

“No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“About what?”

“Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well.

She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.”

“What about Max?”

She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.”

“You know, I’m okay with it.”

“I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.”

Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.”

Logan flushes at the words.

“He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age.

He flushes even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.”

“I am an adult.”

“You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.”

He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?”

She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?”

“Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?”

“First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder.

“Am I late?”

“Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen.

“Can I,”

She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.”

“Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her.

“Logan and you are both going to get on too well.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“You both don’t like when I lift anything.”

“What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back.

Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.”

“One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.”

“See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head.

“I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.”

Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.”

He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.”

“Are you sure?”

Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage.

The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at.

“Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely.

“Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?”

The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member.

“Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.”

“And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases.

“No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.”

“I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.”

“Oh?”

Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.”

Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room.

“Hi, schat.”

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats.

His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.”

“Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask.

“He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.”

Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?”

She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops.

“Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?”

His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.”

“The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.”

“They have to be not performing well.”

“They’re a rookie in a back marker team.”

“They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about.

“They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.”

His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?”

“Nine.”

“I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.”

She shakes her head.

“Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?”

She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“The driver’s Logan.”

“What?”

“Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.”

Max stares at her. “How?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.”

“He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.”

“It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it.

“Why’s that, honey?”

He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team.

“I guess you are a bit spoiled.”

He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle.

“That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.”

He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more.

“I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.”

She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.”

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends.

“Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder.

“How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner.

She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.”

He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?”

“I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.”

“I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside.

“I know.”

“Logan still wanting to do his new routine.”

She nods, lips pursed.

He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?”

She throws him a look. “Us?”

“You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that.

“Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.”

“Will Logan be joining us for Florida?”

“Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.”

Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,”

“You go to Milton for a day after.”

He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.”

“Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.”

“Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

“Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend.

He freezes.

“Max.”

“I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic #sins fics

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charles-leclerc-official · 2 months ago

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Formula 1 Drivers as Supernatural Episodes

I have selected 2 episodes from the CW's hit show Supernatural for each driver in the 2024 F1 season. Enjoy!

These are episodes I feel fits a driver's personality/vibe/style/history and are meant to be complimentary. This is very vibes based XD

Presented in team order <3 (also I guess spn spoilers warning)

Charles Leclerc: Lazarus Rising x The Man Who Would Be King

Charles and the angel Castiel have a lot in common. Charles is seen as this figure that is leading Ferrari currently and into the future and his first season in Ferrari was iconic (Lazarus Rising) Dare I say some of his drives have been as insane as pulling a man out of hell. However it's been a bumpy road and the burdens of one of the most iconic teams is enough to try the patience of any man (The Man Who Would Be King) There are a lot of faith and religious parallels to be made here. If there was one driver insane enough to try to single-handedly fix heaven (Ferrari) Charles is that driver. Also you could cast him as Cas and I don't think anyone would complain. I could go on about the Charles-Cas parallels but we do have to get to the rest of the grid, so he gets two stand-out Castiel episodes.

Carlos Sainz: Trial and Error x The Devil You Know

Carlos sometimes smashes through plans like a hammer, sometimes you need schemes other times you need to throw them out the window and start punching (The Devil You Know). He's also been through the Ferrari trials which is no small feat, often requiring a lot of pressure and sacrifice (Trial and Error). I also feel like he could wrestle a hellhound and come out winning.

Lewis Hamilton: Swan Song x First Born

I felt that one of the most iconic final battles in Supernatural of Swan Song was fitting to encapsulate Lewis' many hard fought WDCs. In addition to First Born, where Dean goes to take the mantle of the mark of Cain from a man who keeps bees in his retirement (Lewis taking WDC from Seb parallels) Both massive turning points in the show and iconic, like Lewis. A lot of small plot and emotional beats in these two that really touch on some career moments.

George Russell: Defending Your Life x Girls Girls Girls

If there was any driver on the grid who would enter into a legal battle against an ancient god and win it's George Russell (Defending Your Life). Additionally George is one of the few who could pull off witchcraft with ease while looking iconic doing so (Girls, Girls, Girls) I just think George and Rowena would get along and get up to some trouble with the book of the damned.

Max Verstappen: The Executioner’s Song x In The Beginning

The parallels of young talent coming in to take down the former bearer of the mark of Cain to Max's 2021 WDC are strong. It was hard, it was messy, and it was one hell of a fight (The Executioner’s Song). Then we have more emotional nuance (In The Beginning) a guy who just likes cars and is kind of old school about them too. These episodes are nuanced and plot centric and that felt fitting. The vibes are here you have to trust me on this.

Sergio Perez: Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven x Criss Angel is a Douchebag

Do not underestimate Checo, much like you should not underestimate an arch angel that is related to you, and yet. The parallels between Adam, the third Winchester brother, and Checo are not lost, especially in meta context (Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven). Then of course Checo does have a flair and charm about him, he can pull a trick or two out of a car when people least expect (Criss Angel is a Douchebag).

Fernando Alonso: Good God Y’all x Weekend at Bobby’s

Fernando is chaos, he's here to cause unapologetic trouble, if he were to be a horseman of the apocalypse he'd be War and he'd have a hell of a time (Good God Y'all). Of course if there was one driver on the grid I know could figure out how to get his soul back from a demon after selling his soul in the first place Fernando would be that driver (Weekend at Bobby's) Naturally there are many Nando and Bobby parallels.

Lance Stroll: Scoobynatural x Hibbing 911

Of all the drivers on the grid at risk of getting sucked into a children’s cartoon I feel like Lance is at the top of the list (Scoobynatural). In addition I think he would be the chill hunter just casually explaining that ghosts are real to Scooby and the gang. Lance would also reluctantly become a vampire hunter if they invaded his small community (Hibbing 911) And he very much reminds me of both Donna and Jody in various ways.

Oscar Piastri: About a Boy x Jack in the Box

I feel like Oscar would be a good witch hunter, I also think if he was hit with a de-aging spell he'd be able to handle it and not panic and figure out how to get out of that situation, worry about the soul crushing curse later (About a Boy). And of course with the way his second season in F1 has been going it very much feels like Mclaren have been holding back a young driver from reaching his potential because they are afraid of his capabilities, you could say they have been putting a nephilim in a box designed to hold back his power (Jack in the Box). Also I cannot be the only one who sees the Jack and Oscar resemblance.

Lando Norris: Swap Meet x I Know What You Did Last Summer

Tell me Lando would not somehow end up practicing black magic accidentally on purpose and somehow survive (Swap Meet). That and I think he would also really like this episode in general. I feel like the duality between Ruby and Anna presented in I know What You Did Last Summer captures a very specific vibe about Lando, is he the demon trying to trick a guy into drinking his blood? Or is he the angel that decided to become human because he was done with heaven's shit? Depends on the day honestly.

Kevin Magnussen: Rock Never Dies x Survival of the Fittest

If there was any driver on the grid that would make crashing the Impala part of the plan to take down eldritch monsters it would be Kmag (Survival of the Fittest). Rock Never Dies just fits Kevin, iconic, villainous, Lucifer comes back a second time and is ready to cause chaos. The whole vibe of this episode is insane and it fits Kevin's particular brand of heart and unique driving. He's loud, you are not going to forget he's there, you should be afraid.

Nico Hulkenberg: Shut Up Dr Phil x My Heart Will Go On

Nico just has the look of a man who would time travel to get rid of a single Celine Dion song (My Heart Will Go On). He does have a lot in common with Balthazar, fun loving but powerful and can execute a plan, he might just end up adding his own flair to it. And I think Nico's spats with others are not frequent, but when they do happen they are memorable (Shut Up Dr Phil) Plus he reminds me of these old witches who have been married a few centuries and keep the chaos alive.

Ollie Bearman: The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo x Reading is Fundamental

Including Ollie in the Haas section since he's raced for them the most this year on the F1 grid. But his story starts as the young talent called at the last minute to solve a huge problem, driving a Ferrari in Jeddah with an hour of practice. I'd say that's similar to being suddenly asked to single-handedly go against some of the most dangerous monsters in the world with no training in monster fighting (The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo) but also being surprisingly good at it. Then we have another team needing young talent to step up and drive their car when things were down, you could say Ollie is in advanced placement in terms of being an F1 rookie now (Reading is Fundamental) I think the Ollie Kevin Tran comparisons are strong. Overall these two episodes of young talent needed at the last minute to save the day really sum up Ollie's 2024 F1 experience.

Yuki Tsunoda: The Gamblers x A Little Slice of Kevin

Sometimes luck is on Yuki's side, and often times it feels like it's not. But then again he's been fighting and sticking around longer than most other drivers in the face of more bad luck than one man should deal with, so perhaps he's won against an old roman god for a bit of luck, who's to say (The Gamblers). Then we get to the duality in A Little Slice of Kevin, young talent being used as a pawn in the larger scheme of Red Bull, more likely than you'd think. Is he escaping purgatory or being captured by demons? Probably both.

Daniel Ricciardo: Frontierland x Blood Brother

I know one thing about Danny, he would time travel back to the wild west to hunt down a rare monster no questions asked. He would bring his own cowboy hat as well (Frontierland). Danny also has that quality of guy who doesn't ask for much, so when he asks for a favor you gotta help. He also does have similar vibes to Benny, don't tell me he wouldn't make a great southern vampire (Blood Brother).

Liam Lawson: War of the Worlds x Bad Day at Black Rock

Similar to Yuki, Liam's luck is a tricky thing. He was in a will he won't he situation at Red Bull for so long. If he had a rabbit's foot he kept losing and picking up again I wouldn't be surprised (Bad Day at Black Rock). I think the episode really captures that kind of swinging pendulum of luck his junior career has seen. Then of course now he's been called to the seat he's caught up in a pretty intense battle at the end of the season, with a lot of demands being made on top of the constant turmoil within the team. Imagine Lucifer is telling you not to do a spell another powerful arch angel is commanding you to do, I feel like that about sums up how he's been thrown into F1 (War of the Worlds).

Alex Albon: Heart x It’s A Terrible Life

Alex was a rookie that went under the radar, at first, but something bigger was brewing in the background and then boom he was suddenly at the center of the driver market and was thrown into the spotlight. A feeling reflected in It's A Terrible Life. Alex is also the type of try to help someone against all odds, even when they seem impossible (Heart). Also I am not denying I am possibly calling him a werewolf fucker, here but tell me I'm wrong.

Logan Sargeant: Jump the Shark x Dog Dean Afternoon

Logan would do well being able to communicate with a dog and would adapt well to taking on dog-like traits to solve a case (Dog Dean Afternoon) I don't even think he'd question it. Forgotten, overlooked, massively unlucky I don't think there is a better Supernatural parallel for Logan than season 4 Adam (Jump the Shark). He was a great guy who got caught in the middle of something dangerous and paid the price.

Franco Colapinto: Red Sky at Morning x Sharp Teeth

Franco is one of the guys who I just think would be able to make it work for him if he were accidentally turned into a werewolf. He'd take a few months off, come back and be totally fine (Sharp Teeth). I cannot fully explain but Franco does give me Bella vibes, the mix of mischief and amusing self confidence perhaps, or maybe he just has the look of an international occult thief? (Red Sky at Morning) He'd be able to steal rare artifacts using his looks and charm I know that.

Valtteri Bottas: Party On Garth x Everybody Loves a Clown

Valtteri strikes me as the most like Garth. Fun, a little silly, but good at his job and scary when he needs to be (Party On Garth). His methods may seem a little out there but he gets the job done. How could I not include the introduction of the best mullet on Supernatural? I know Valtteri would love Ash and call him #mulletgoals (Everybody Loves a Clown). Another character who seems a little unserious out of the profession but Ash is brilliant and knows how to lock in.

Zhou Guanyu: Hunteri Heroici x Wayward Sisters

Zhou would 100% interrogate that cat and get information. He's probably an expert (Hunteri Heroici). I think his level headed mindset would also really help in a case where the world is literally going Loony toons. Zhou also has been through it, but is strong, and iconic in his unique way (Wayward Sisters). He's been fighting an uphill battle in that Sauber car, new hunter learning on the job has a similar experience, add a little dimension hopping in there for flavor.

Esteban Ocon: Beyond the Mat x Hollywood Babylon

Esteban is a sweetheart but do not be fooled, he absolutely would take down his childhood hero if he needed to (Beyond the Mat). I also think that he'd absolutely be one of those hunters looking for all the old Hollywood ghosts, he'd be an expert about which myths were real or fake and have that locked down over there (Hollywood Babylon).

Pierre Gasly: Monster Movie x Simon Said

I am not saying Pierre is a shapeshifter, but I am saying that if he was he'd be doing the over the top camp and theatrics seen in Monster Movie. Also he like Dean has a way of finding out how to have fun even when things are extremely stressful. If he did have mind control powers he'd use them for good or not use them at all, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to use them or that he's not strong (Simon Said).

That's the end! Thank you for reading. This was just something silly I have been working on. It's mostly vibes based but I had a lot of fun putting it together.

*Carry on Wayward Son + F1 theme mashup starts playing*

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bvbygrl-writes · 4 months ago

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Season of The Witch (2)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2k

Summary: (Y/N) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: Look at me, posting consistently! don't get used to it. Anyways, enjoy chapter 2! Edward will be introduced either in the next chapter or chapter 4.

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni. Also I didn't edit any of it so ignore any typos.

Chatter from below and music from your speaker filled your room as you flopped back onto your bed after a well deserved shower. With Jacob, as you now knew him to be, coming in and out of your room earlier with your furniture, you didn’t want to risk any more magic related injuries as you did earlier, leading to you having to manually unpack the rest of your knick knacks. But in the process, you sweated a fair amount but as you looked around your room, it was well worth it.

Your mind drifted back to the symbol on his arm earlier, trying to place where exactly you had seen it. Jumping from your nest of blankets, you glanced over the plethora of books on the shelves, skimming the titles carefully.

Occult runes & symbols. Snatching the book from the shelf, you hopped back onto your bed, flipping through the pages quickly, mind fixated on the symbol from earlier until finally you landed on it. “The Quilete people, like many indigenous tribes, have a rich and fruitful history. Legend says that some of them have the spirit of the wolf within and the ability to shapeshift into the aforementioned animal. In addition to having warmer body heat, they also have enhanced speed, super strength, and pack connection.” you read out loud to yourself. Gliding your finger across the page, you continued to read on the history and associations with them. However, the sound of your door opening caused you to whip your head up, slamming the book shut.

“Your parents wanted me to tell you dinner is ready. Me, my dad, and the Swans will be joining you for dinner, hope you don’t mind.” Jacob said, now wearing a shirt much to your disappointment. Gulping, you nod, watching as he tries to look at the cover of your book. You spread your hands across it, hiding as much of it as you could. “Aren’t you a little old for a diary?” You scoff at his words, tossing the book behind your pillows.

“It’s not a diary. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy journaling.” You retort, hopping up from your bed as you smooth out the wrinkles in your long skirt, centering your necklace on your chest. Glancing at the mirror on the wall, you fix your hair before walking over to him, shoving your finger into his chest. “You should try it sometimes.”

“Whatever you say. You look nice, by the way.” you look up at him, mouth gaping some. Your eyes remain locked for what feels like forever before you brush by him, looking down the hall towards the stairs.

“Thanks.” You can’t even see him but you can feel that cocky smirk he seems to be wearing since you met him.

As you approach the table, Jacob pulls out your chair for you before making his way to the otherside, sitting next to an unfamiliar girl. She’s about your age with dark brown hair and a set of eyes to match it. She’s wearing a striped top that hugs her form nicely. You watch as she looks up at Jacob, saying something to him that you can’t quite make out which causes him to laugh. You roll your eyes internally, glaring holes into the side of her face. ‘Of course a guy that hot has a girlfriend. Dream on, (Y/n/n)’ you think to yourself as you finally take your seat. Sat beside your left is Charlie, Mr.Black on your right, your parents on the ends of the table, Jacob is across from you, and the girl you don’t know to his left.

“(Y/n/n), this is Bella, Charlie’s daughter! I’m sure you girls will get along great.” Your mom says, causing the girl, Bella, to look at you. You wave at her awkwardly as she smiles. She seems nice enough. “I hope everyone is hungry! I made quite a lot so feel free to help yourselves to whatever you’d like. I’ve got dessert in the kitchen!” She squeals out excitedly, motioning to the feast on the table. There’s a colorful salad, a basket of garlic bread, two lasagnas, and a pitcher of different drinks all arranged beautifully on the table. Your stomach groans with a hunger you didn’t even know you had.

As everyone eats, you observe Jacob and Bella carefully. You watch as he whispers something to her, causing her face to blush pink, swishing her hair over her shoulder coyly. You stab at your lasagna aggressively, shoving the fork in your mouth. There’s no reason for you to feel this way, you’ve barely known the guy for a day. But still, you always had an active imagination and the moment you had a crush, it was turned to one thousand. Watching on, your envy grew more and more until Bella’s cup fell over, with a bang, spilling all over her shirt and lap. Your eyes widened as silence fell upon the table as Bella stood up, attempting to wipe the mess from the table.

“I am so sorry! I-I don’t even know how that happened, I was nowhere near my cup.” Bella stammered out. Your eyes flickered over to your mom who was already looking at you. Judging by her face, she was not very happy with you. Even though it wasn’t purposeful, you still felt awful.

“It’s okay, dear don’t worry about it! This table is a little off balance, we’ve been meaning to fix it for a while.” Your mother assured her, covering for you with ease. You hopped up from the table as well, running over to help her clean up the mess. “(Y/n) why don’t you take Bella upstairs and give her something to change into?” She suggested, nodding her head towards the stairs.

“O-okay.” you stuttered out. You didn’t trust yourself to say something not so incriminating. You grab Bella’s arm, leading her up the stairs towards your room. As you shut the door behind you, you rush to your dresser pulling out a t-shirt and jeans before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” she says with a half smile before beginning to undress. You turn around towards your balcony, giving her a bit of privacy. You hear her sigh as she unzips her jeans. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

“No problem. And don’t even worry about it. I’m a total klutz myself. Granted, I’ve never done something like that in front of a guy I was dating.” You shrug. As you hear her rezip herself into the new jeans you turn around. She gives you a puzzled look, tilting her head.

“You mean Jacob?” she questions. Unsure of how to respond, you give her a hesitant nod. She chuckles. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Jacob is just a friend. A close one, sure, but nothing more than that” she pauses for a moment, as if she can’t decide if she wants to tell you something before she speaks again. “I’m into girls.” she says a bit quieter. You celebrate a bit inside.

“Interesting.” you respond. She looks at you, taking in your expression. It looks as if a lightbulb has turned on in her head. She raises a brow, giggling some.

“He is single, by the way. Plus from the sounds of it, he’s taken quite a liking to you already. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” you go to argue but render it useless. With the way you’re fidgeting with your hands and biting at your lip, you know there’s nothing you could rebuttal with.

“I-I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Bella.” she nods before heading towards your bedroom door, shutting it softly on her way out.

After the fiasco that had taken place earlier, you thought it’d be best if you stayed up in your room until the guest left. Even though no one knew it was you, you did and that was enough to riddle you with embarrassment. For the past hour, you just replayed the scene over and over in your head, staring at the ceiling as if it would offer you any form of comfort. You were so in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of the door opening.

“Didn’t want you to miss dessert.” you rolled your head to the side to see Jacob, a few cookies on the plate in his hands. He closed the door, getting closer and closer until he crawled in next to you onto your bed, setting the plate down in between you two. Sitting up, you smiled at him before grabbing one, biting into it with a content moan.

“Thanks. Look at you, being nice to me.” you joke. He laughs, scooting a bit closer to you. His eyes flicker from yours to your lips. Your body tenses as he moves his hand to your face. He holds it there for a bit before swiping the corner of your lip.

“Had a bit of chocolate on your face.” before you could respond, he licks the chocolate from his thumb, eyes not leaving yours for a second. “Delicious.” he mutters. You inch your free hand closer to his on the bed, his warm hands soothing the natural coldness to yours. He moves his hand on top of yours, his large hand engulfing yours.

“You do this with all your Dad’s friends' daughters?” you ask. He shakes his head, his eyes flickering down to the bed before looking back up at you.

“No, just you.” your insides feel like mush. In your old state, boys never really paid you any mind. They were too focused on every other girl. Even the guy who asked you to prom ended up ditching you halfway through for a girl from his theater group. It was rare for you to even speak to a guy, let alone be holding hands with one on your bed. You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest.

A rare moment of boldness came over you as you moved closer, throwing your legs over his lap, laying your head on his shoulder. You gasped as he moved his hand from yours to your waist, his warmth encasing you in the most comforting way. The two of you just sat there for a moment, the cookies growing cold and forgotten as you enjoyed each other's presence.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” he spoke, his voice vibrating in his chest. You glanced up at him, noticing him already looking down at you.

“Not that I know of. I’m pretty much done unpacking.” you responded. His hand glided over your head, gently massaging your scalp.

“How about I come get you? I can take you on a ride on my bike, show you around town a bit.” he throws out there. You feel that mushy feeling in your gut again.

“I’d love to.” you reach into the pocket of his jeans, grabbing his phone as you create a new contact, adding your name and number before sticking it back in place. “Text me. Or if not, you know where to find me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” he says, a genuine smile on his face. You smile back at him, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. His head rests on top of yours, the two of you staying like that until a howl is heard in the distance. Jacob’s body tenses under you as he clears his throat. “I need to get going. Text you later?” you try your best not to frown, nodding at his words. ‘Must be his pack.’ you think to yourself. He sighs deeply, reluctantly removing himself from you as he makes his way towards your bedroom door, quickly running out.

The door doesn’t stay closed for long though as your mom opens it, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Had fun? You must’ve because everyone else has been gone for hours!” you grab a pillow, shoving it over your face.

“Mom, please!” you huff out but, she ignores your plea, hopping onto your bed, your body bouncing from the movements.

“He seems like a really sweet boy, honey. I like him for you! I know you’re an adult but, you’re really growing up now. Soon you’ll be getting married, having babies, and-”

“Enough!”

#twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight #jacob black x you #jacob black imagine #jacob black x reader #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader

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batsplat · 3 months ago

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as soon as vale said that his most important rivals were biaggi, lorenzo, and stoner, I thought about your sete posts! it’s so interesting how he keeps downplaying that rivalry, even 20 years later

posted this like. the day before that podcast was released

yeah anon I'm glad I've been able to spread the gospel on this because it's very... going 'valentino is deliberately editing one specific rivalry out of his career in order to get people to forget about it or simply dismiss it entirely' does run the risk of making you sound insane. but now that I have presented my extensive evidence on this subject on a microblogging platform, I can finally FINALLY get the satisfaction of other people going 'hm yeah this is kind of weird'. it is weird!! podium of rivals my ass, valentino's best on-track rivalry is just indisputably with sete. going by quality and quantity of extended on-track duels, the oeuvre he put together with sete isn't even in the same LEAGUE as what he's got going on with casey, jorge, or biaggi. and none of this 'well he always beat sete' business - I saw how close that man was to ending it all after sachsenring 2003. there is not a SINGLE other direct defeat by a rival after which he is so visibly close to walking off the nearest cliff edge. also, at least sete actually managed to win a race-long fight against valentino, which is NOT something that could be said about either biaggi or jorge (casey as ever remains the specialest girl). 2004 is still the closest title fight he won!! the welkom 2004 thing is genuinely infuriating, because it's basically the only duel of that quality or length he ever has with biaggi (phillip island '01 is more of a multi-rider dogfight) and it comes!! at a time!! when sete is his main rival!! sete was already the main rival in 2003!! it is complete dumb luck that biaggi happened to be valentino's opponent in his very first yamaha race, allowing valentino to pull off this sleight of hand where his 2004 season conveniently starts and ends at the very first race. literally says in that bloody podcast that it's not a coincidence his three best races happened fighting his three greatest rivals... well going by everything else in 2003-05, it actually kinda is you fucking dingus. he has five extended duels in 2004 that are all excellent - and four are with sete! off the top of my head, the number of memorable duels he has 2003-05 clocks in at like fourteen with sete (jesus) and 1 (one) with biaggi. and mind you, however fond people are of the welkom race, you just KNOW more folks actually remember that last corner jerez situation than anything specific that happened at welkom. the unbelievable cynicism, the NERVE of presenting this selectively edited version of the switch to yamaha while completely erasing the rival he actually destroyed along the way!! staggering

anyway look I know I'm preaching to the choir here but yeah. I mean I did already say all this in the sete post itself

and ofc by now I've talked in a bunch of places about how valentino is clearly more comfortable with the impersonal nastiness of the biaggi, casey and jorge rivalries than he is with the ultra personal heartache of sete and marc. it really has carried over to how he's discussed these rivalries post-retirement... when it comes to the former category, it's really all quite normal - he's not doing much to reawaken the feud, isn't being particularly provocative, just gives a reasonably straightforward and restrained appraisal of his side of the rivalry on quite an irregular basis. a lot more agreeable than some of said rivals are when talking about him, let's face it. again, he does like his rivalries, he thinks sports SHOULD sometimes have this kinda nasty fun dynamic between two guys who really want to beat each other... but now the on-track competition is done with, it's all good, no reason to hold any grudges. with the latter category - by contrast - it's a tale of extremes. you've got the deflection of most questions related to the marc conflict from around mid-2016 onwards, with the exception of genuine head loss suffered at argentina 2018 or when he is an environment where he can air his grievances a little more extensively on his own terms (like, say, on a podcast) - there's a desire to erase marc from the narrative of his career and a wariness of the drama associated with this rivalry that wars with the urge to discuss it, since it is still a wee bit of an open wound. with sete, his approach is if anything even more radical: utter erasure. from his comments in the route46/93 documentary, it is obvious he has not forgiven sete in the slightest and does still derive some measure of personal satisfaction from how that whole thing went down ("if I had to give sete some advice... it's better if he hadn't done it" unfortunately just indisputably a banger line). discussed this elsewhere, but what's kinda wild about this whole approach is that the sete rivalry is such a triumph for him - not because sete is a weak opponent, but because of like... what an excellent job he did with the whole thing. the dramatic arc of that rivalry and how it coincided with the switch to yamaha, all the elite on-track battles along the way, the way valentino did literally manage to break another rider, it's kinda... I mean, this should all be a bigger element of his legacy than it is. personally in his shoes I'd probably never shut up about it (not least because he put a CURSE on a guy, which I get probably isn't good pr to discuss but y'know). what he's doing here isn't in his own best interest!! valentino you should be using this podcast to introduce the kids to quite honestly THE best and most watchable stretch of your career. valentino the kids haven't watched mugello 2004, valentino don't you think catalunya 2004 gets kinda overlooked, valentino tell the kids to check out assen 2004. valentino you won your first yamaha title at phillip island 2004 with a frenzied last lap battle, isn't that kinda cool and memorable and special. valentino

anyway tbh I think at this point he's not even doing it on purpose anymore. just what happens when you're disciplined enough with a narrative, I suppose, sticking to it even inside your own head - all about those lovely little stories athletes like to tell themselves, isn't it. years worth of editing and minimising and deflecting and erasing and suddenly it's really just three rivalries that stand head and shoulders above the rest - conveniently leaving out the ones that got interpersonally messy. it is a bit of a shame because, again, valentino buddy I hate to break this to you but 2004 is just categorically your most-enjoyable-to-watch title campaign. but clearly, to him, there are things that matter more than actually effectively propagandising his own career. you've gotta respect the grind ig. and maybe it's for the best that some of the details of those years remain confined to a niche audience, eh

#getting asks like this is deeply cathartic to me #because when i was properly going through the autobiography for the first time i did go. is anyone else seeing this #'hey does anyone else think rossi deliberately excluded gibernau from his autobiography' is NOT the kind of thing you can post on reddit #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #curse tag #that bloody sepang sweeping celebration is low key still the funniest thing he's ever done and it kinda gets forgotten about #always torn between two impulses with this because. you do see the state of the discourse out there and go 'hm maybe it's for the best'#let's keep the number of people who've watched the sepang 2004 presser in double digits yeah

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pinkeoni · 1 year ago

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The Perception of Will Both In & Out of the Show

Right now I'm working on a whole post dedicated to looking at how Hawkins views Will, and something that I've noticed is how this in-universe perception is reflective of how the audience views him as a character.

Will the Crybaby vs. Will the Villain

tl;dr for a post I haven't even posted yet, but my assertion is that generally the town has two modes for how they see Will, prey or predator. He's either the sensitive, weak "fairy" who is assumed to be the target of violence based on these qualities, or he is the predatory "Zombie Boy" who is going to spread death and disease to the rest of the town.

Many of the critiques levied against Will's character from fans after season four was "all he does is cry!"

And in the same breath, after it was revealed that Will was going to be the focus for next season, the claim about Will's character was "he's going to be the villain!"

So Will is both the overly sensitive crybaby and at the same time, somehow going to be the villain of the final season.

I do think that GA opinion is actually more diversified then people give it credit for, so it would be inaccurate of me to say that this is widely agreed upon amongst fans of the show, although both of these statements, especially that of Will’s villain arc, did go around enough to be mentioned in articles about the season.

Starting with Will's sensitivity, it is one of his character traits. It's important enough for Joyce to mention this when describing him in episode one. Noah often gives Will really big reactions with weepy eyes and a quivering lip— he's a feeler!

Some push back against this critique of character, especially on here, was sometimes met with “But Will doesn’t cry that much! He’s tough! Look at this scene he knows how to shoot a gun!” which is kind of missing the point. It’s not that Will isn’t soft and sensitive, it’s that being soft and sensitive isn’t a problem.

The villain!Will claim, while maybe a fun idea for fanon material, seems to grossly mischaracterize him. Will, from the constant mistreatment he has faced, will turn vengeful and join Vecna to become a villain alongside him. You mean the same Will Byers who told D’Artagnan that he wasn’t going to hurt him? That Will Byers is going to seek revenge?

I don’t think that any of these takes are intentionally trying to be this way, but there is a subconscious undertone of homophobia coming from both of them. It’s a bad thing for Will to be soft and emotional, but he’s also going to become the vindictive “big bad.” The prey or the predator.

There seems to be a refusal from some fans to view Will in a hero role

This I can’t really fault them much for. I had a good back and forth with an anon awhile ago who stated that if the audience does not perceive the story as being Will's or Will as a main character, then this is a pitfall from the show. Which I agreed with. If the show is failing to communicate something, then this is a fault of the writing of the show. (I did, however, offer a counter argument to a claim they made saying that the show did not offer any substantial proof of this at all, in which I said that Will being the center in the first season was a good piece of evidence among some others)

I should note that I say "hero" but I don't mean this in a masculine way, just that Will is going to be the one to save the day, be that in his own way. He doesn't need to "man up" in order to be the hero.

El, for good reason, is seen as the hero of the story. If the next season is supposed to revolve around Will now, then he must either be A) A victim that El needs to save or B) A villain that El needs to defeat. (I made a post about El and Will's roles next season here)

This isn't always brought up, but a lot of the times the love triangle is talked about in relation to this because it goes along with the underlying homophobia. If Will is the focus next season and he is also the hero then there's an implication that he may be successful in "getting the guy" so to speak, just going off of typical narrative tropes. If El is the hero and Will is either the victim or villain then he either A) is saved by El and, out of gratefulness to her, is able to accept that that he won't have Mike and is able to accept the two being together (which wouldn't make sense considering this is the position he is already in) or B) El defeats the evil gay boy who is after her man, putting him in his place. These people can't seem to wrap their head around the possibility of Will getting the love interest in the end and El, still important to the main plot, ending up solo and it being a positive for both characters.

The problem with villain!Will especially is that, along with the fact that it relies on a mischaracterization of Will, is that there has to come a point where the villain has to lose and be put in their place in order for the hero to succeed. I see even fans of Will claiming that they want Will to have a villain arc because of everything that he's gone through. And yeah, Will has been through a lot and he has been treated unfairly by people around him, but he can't have a triumphant ending if he is the villain of the story.

I guess it has to do with framing. In simplified terms, Will, in some way, tries to fight for a better life for himself. If Will is the villain then he must learn to be complacent with the life he already has. If he is the hero, however, then he deserves and gets to earn this better life. If Will is the victim who is saved by El then he must learn to be grateful to her. Neither make sense for a story where Will is supposed to come of age. He has to be the hero and he also has to be one to save himself.

I want to say again that I'm not trying to use hero in a masculine sense, wherein I'm picturing a Conan the Barbarian or Rambo-esque buff!byers fighting in the Upside Down, but rather I just mean using his qualities that others deem weak as his strength. Will is the hero, just in his own way. @therainscene had a really great addition to a similar post I made while I was drafting this one. To quote a genius mind—

It's wild that Will is seen as weak, because he's the toughest motherfucker in the show -- not in spite of being soft and sensitive, but because of it. Being a sensitive gay boy in 1980's America is playing life on hard mode: he's punished for refusing to conform to traditional masculinity, both in-universe and by the audience, and his response is to doggedly continue refusing to conform. He's crying and throwing up the whole time he's doing it but he just keeps on doing it.

#sorry this is such a long one without pictures this time i just felt like rambling #will byers #stranger things #robin rambles

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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year ago

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How Do You Know It's Worth It?

Season Two Episode Eight

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4031

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Summary: While the reader works on returning to the more intense part of her job, Spencer struggles with the break and their current case. Aaron faces a fight of his own.

Notes: This is another episode where I had planned to have more of the actual episode worked in, but I’m happy with how it turned out this way. It does jump around (surprise surprise) so just be aware of that. And I finally get to introduce the plot of The Reaper, which is such a great one in the show. However, that means we all know what’s coming… (And yes, I am making a Bones crossover. He may or may not make an appearance, along with anyone else from the show. I don’t care if it’s cliche, I’m excited)

Five Months Later

The crying shouts echoed down the hall. Tired eyes peered into the dark, a nightmare fading slowly into reality. With a few steps towards the sound, terrified words grew clearer.

“Take… the… deal.” The voice was broken and desperate. “Take the deal.”

You turned on a lamp in the living room and found his shaking form on the couch. He was still wearing his work clothes, his tie loosened around his neck.

“I could have stopped him.”

“Aaron?”

His head jerked at the sound, but his eyes remained screwed shut. “Stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them. Stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them.”

You let out a low sigh. It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to those words.

You knelt beside the couch and put a hand on his arm. “Aaron, wake up.”

“He escaped… Foyet… hunt…”

“He isn’t here.” You shook his arm gently. “Aaron, The Reaper isn’t here. You’re home. Wake up.” His shoulders thrashed. You shook harder and raised your voice. “Wake up.”

He shot up so fast he almost hit you. His arm yanked away from your hand, propelling you backward into the coffee table. Papers scattered to the floor.

“Foyet,” he breathed, his chest heaving.

You sat up. “It was just a nightmare, Aaron. You’re home.”

His dark eyes found yours and you watched him come back to himself. Aaron ran his hand down his face, swinging his legs over the side of the couch to sit. He held out a hand to help you up.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You brushed yourself off and stood. “I thought we talked about you sleeping out here.” You noted the files spread over the coffee table. All had something to do with George Foyet. Phone records. Witness reports. Anything that could connect to that man. “And working so late.”

He sighed. “I didn’t realize what time it was and I closed my eyes for a second.” He looked up at you with guilt. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You gave him a reassuring nod. “Between the two of our nightmare records, we should start keeping count.” He shook his head and, beneath his harried expression, you thought you caught a glimpse of a smile.

The two of you ended up at the kitchen table with spoons and the secret tub of ice cream he sometimes had to hide from Jack between you.

“You,” he took another spoonful, “should be getting your rest. You have a big week starting tomorrow.”

You let the cool dessert dissolve on your tongue. “Dr. Sweets thinks it’ll be a good thing. Getting out from behind a desk and back to real research again could be just what I need.”

“If I had known he’d be encouraging you to sit across from killers, I might not have recommended him,” Aaron said.

A few months back, when it was clear the therapist you’d been seeing wasn’t working out, Aaron told you about a psychiatrist at the FBI. He was young, but Aaron had heard really good things about him. And, even though he usually only treated agents, he was more than happy to do the BAU unit chief a favor.

While you were closed off at first, you’d come to think of Dr. Sweets as almost a friend as much as a therapist. There was something about his youthful excitement that just made you think of someone else you knew.

“And I wasn’t just talking about work,” Aaron added, taking another scoop of the mint chip. He eyed you from across the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve seen him since…” You cleared your throat. “Since I started staying here.”

“But it’s the first time you’ve called it a date,” he said.

He was right. While you’d seen Spencer here and there over the past few months for coffee and check-ins and the occasional awkward lunch, it was the first time you’d let yourself call a meal with him a date. Unpredictable schedule permitting, he was cooking for you at the apartment in a few days. Even just thinking about it almost gave you those butterflies you hadn’t felt since you first started seeing each other.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t let Reid hear you say that,” Aaron chuckled. Frankly, he was a troubling mix of excited and worried for you. And for Reid. The younger agent had seemed anxious ever since you’d made the plans. But between staying with him and staying with Haley, he could tell the loneliness was starting to take a toll on you. “Just don’t try and rush into something you aren’t ready for.”

You snorted and raised a brow at his wording. “I think we’re a little past the point for that kind of talk, don’t you think?”

“Y/N,” he groaned. “I have one rule.”

“Come on, you walked into that one.”

“Every joke, every comment you make about…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, making you laugh even harder. “I can’t ever unhear that!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you both burst out laughing, any memory of either of your nightmares pushed to the back of your mind.

You’d come so far. You had to believe there would be a point where you could start to feel like… well, you again. You only hoped that point was now.

You packed everything into your messenger bag except for the journal on your nightstand- aka, Aaron’s desk. It was a light-colored leather with a silver clasp and a message on the inside cover. You knew it by heart.

“In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could to any person; I create myself.” Susan Sontag.

I hope you find a way to create a you that’s happy.

Merry Christmas, Y/N.

Love, Spencer.

You took it with you everywhere. Dr. Sweets thought it was a good idea for you to write down your feelings. That way, you wouldn’t just keep them inside. You thought it was unnecessary, but since it was a Christmas present from Spencer, you tried it anyway.

You hated that they were both right. It wasn’t a magical solution, but, to some extent, it helped. Spencer may not have said the words ‘I told you so’ when you told him about it, but you could tell he was struggling not to. It made you smile. Really smile.

You picked it up from the desk and carried it out with you. Today, you were going to need it. Sonia was letting you dip your toe into interview work again as part of a study on arsonists. You figured she’d tried to pick something as disconnected from your past as possible and fire was the best option.

Still, it was better than the desk work you’d been stuck with ever since you’d been approved to come back to work after the weeks of rehab Aaron had you go to.

Your brother was gone before you left, but you knew he wouldn’t be there to wish you good luck, having woken up to a text saying he’d been called on a case. You had to pack a bag, since you’d be staying with Haley.

That was something else you were looking forward to with work. It was nice to be trusted again.

Everything was set when you got to the office. The person you’d be interviewing was in a nearby prison, so you wouldn’t have too far of a drive. Sonia was going with you, but she’d let you be in charge of the interview itself. It was pretty customary to bring a partner and you were glad it’d be her.

Despite what you’d told your brother, you could barely contain how nervous you were.

When your phone started to ring, it wasn’t the voice you expected on the other line.

“Aaron, I already told you I’ll be fine,” you answered with a roll of your eyes.

There was a slight chuckle. “I’m sure you will be.”

You stopped in your tracks. “Spencer, hey. Sorry, I figured you were my brother checking in.”

“Yeah, he seems a little more pensive than usual,” he said. You imagined the little turn of the corner of his lips. “I was just calling about this week. Maybe we can plan for whenever we get back from this case?”

“Sounds good.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt, but knew he’d be able to tell anyway. He always could.

A moment of awkward, empty static passed before either of you said anything again.

“I guess I should probably go,” he said.

“Me too. Big day.”

He blew out a breath. “Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? If you start to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, I’m sure your boss would let you step back again.”

“I don’t want to step back,” you sighed. “I want to feel… normal again. Or as normal as either of our lives allow us to be.” He inhaled, preparing his argument, but you cut him off. “I’ll see you when you get back. Be safe, Spence.”

Spencer closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah. You too. I’ll see you soon.” He left off the final three words in his mind. Since you broke things off and started staying with your brother, he was terrified of pushing you. As much as he wanted to remind you how much he loved you- even after all this time apart, after everything that happened- he didn’t want to make it too much. So he kept everything to himself, which had been eating at him for months. Still, the words burned on his tongue.

I love you.

“Hey,” JJ said, taking him out of his thoughts. “Everything okay?”

“Y/N’s doing her first interview since she got back,” he explained. “I just wanted to check in on her before she goes.”

“I don’t know how you guys do it.” JJ shook her head. “Sitting in a locked cell with people who have done such horrible things. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.” She noticed the nervous expression on the younger agent's face and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure Y/N will be fine. She wouldn’t be doing it unless she was ready.”

He gave her a small smile. “I know.” Her words stayed in his mind as Hotch briefed the team on their new case in South Padre Island. Was Y/N asking him on a date a sign that she was ready to go back to the way things were?

No. Things would never really go back to what they were before. It didn’t take a genius to realize that, but still. The small sliver of hope wouldn’t go away, no matter how much his logical brain tried to dispel it.

Reid did his best to shake any thought of you and tried to focus on the case. No matter how hard he tried, your voice was still there, whispering ideas and theories about the murders. It was going to be a long couple of days.

You couldn’t stop shaking, though the interview had been done for an hour. Your fingers tapped diligently away at your computer, filling out the report for your findings. It wasn’t that the inmate frightened you. Training and years of detaching had prepared you well to face the monsters behind tragedies.

It was the look in his eyes.

The same one you saw in the mirror every morning. Just for a glimpse- a blink- but you still caught it.

You wondered if it would ever go away.

“You did well today,” Sonia said from your doorway. She gave you a reassuring smile. “Really well.”

“Thanks.” You paused, thinking. “It means a lot that you’ve let me stay on here, Sonia. After, well, everything that happened.”

“Are you kidding?” she said. “I don’t think I could afford to lose that brilliant mind of yours.” She lingered for a moment to brief you on the next set of interviews she had planned for a study on the psychology of hitmen as serial murderers before leaving you alone again.

You jumped when your phone rang, this time checking the number before you answered.

“Penelope?” You said. Your heart dropped. “Wait, did something happen? Is everything okay? What happened?”

“Relax, Wonder Woman,” she teased. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to know how your first day went. Hotch mentioned it was your first time doing the creepy interview thingy and I wanted to see how you were.” Clearly not well, judging by your immediate reaction, but she didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh,” you blew out a sigh of relief. “It went… well about as well as it could have, given the task.”

“How you all do that kind of thing, I’ll never understand,” Penelope shuddered. “I will stick to the safety of my screens, thank you.”

You chuckled. “Fair enough.” Holding the phone between your ear and shoulder, you turned to face your window. The sky was gray and the clouds were heavy with the rain that was supposed to start later that evening. “Listen, Penelope, I know I’m not supposed to ask-”

“They’re okay,” she interrupted and you could hear the smile in her voice. “You could just call him, you know.”

“I don’t like to bother Aaron when he’s on cases. He likes to keep his private life separate-”

Her bubbly tone stops you again. “I wasn’t exactly talking about Hotch.”

You groan. “Penelope, you know that we-”

“Aren’t together, I know, and you know how much that breaks my heart. Even though I support you in your decision and I’m here for you every step of the way-”

“Penelope,” you laughed, stopping her before she freaked herself out. “Thanks for checking in on me. We’ll get together soon, yeah?”

She finally takes a breath. “Yeah. Okay. See you then.” She almost sounds disappointed. When she’s done talking to you, it’s back to death and gore. “Lots of love, Garcia out.”

You laid your phone face down on your desk, trading it for your journal.

“Think about the progress you’ve made.” You could practically hear Dr. Sweets’ encouragement as you picked up a pen. And you wanted to think about the day in a positive light. A step in the right direction. But the words that flowed from your hand cast a different spell.

Today I saw the eyes of a killer and thought I saw a reflection of me in them. I know that what I did was in self-defense and I know that I probably saved more than just me… but will I ever stop feeling like this?

Your phone rang as you dotted the last ‘i.’

“Penelope-” You started, having not looked at the number.

“Wrong again.”

Spencer stood at the window of his hotel room, looking out at the ocean with his phone on speaker and information for the case laid out in front of him. He’d been staring at pages and photos for the past hour, but something one of the witnesses said had stuck with him. It made him think of you.

“Spence.” You sat up in your chair. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no it’s not that,” he said.

“You sound upset, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, I swear…” he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”

“But you did, so obviously it must be important.” You packed your journal in your bag, putting the phone to your ear as you locked up your office. “Talk to me.”

He picked up the phone and opened the door to his balcony. The cool evening breeze greeted him, along with the sound of music from the multiple parties going on. He held the phone to his ear and sighed.

“We talked to one of the workers of the hotel today,” he explained. “He’d found the body and was up on the roof smoking when Morgan and I found him. It’s just… he said something that stuck with me I guess. I don’t know, it made me think of you and-and me and the things we’ve both been through.”

You inhaled sharply. “What did he say?”

“He asked if I had seen ‘bad stuff,’” Spencer said. “And then he asked how long before you can close your eyes without it being there.” He held the cell in one hand and gripped the metal railing with the other. “I told him I still don’t know.”

You closed your eyes, as if to prove a point.

Sure enough, Sarah stayed like a photograph that hadn’t quite faded in time.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” Spencer took a deep breath. “I hope so.”

You didn’t say anything and he just took a moment to listen to the sounds of you leaving your office and getting to your car. Going to Haley’s, he already knew. He wished he could be there to talk to you in person. To see your eyes again and to sit in silence and just hear each other’s breath.

“Again, sorry for calling,” he said. “I actually don’t know why I did. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to tell you that.”

“You never have to apologize for calling me, Spence.” You closed your car door and waited to start the ignition. “I’ll see you when you get back, okay?” You closed your eyes again, only this time you imagined him instead. His messy hair. His smile. The little crinkle above his nose when he was thinking. “I love you.”

He held the railing a little tighter.

“I love you too.”

“Call me when you get back.”

“I will.”

“Goodnight, Spence.”

“Goodnight. Sleep well.”

You hung up first but you both held the phones for a little while longer, as if you were holding onto each other’s words.

He’d arrived back after everybody else, but didn’t tell you why. He hadn’t even called you when he returned. Instead, he’d been talking on the phone with Aaron for the past twenty minutes, though what about, you had no idea.

Whatever happened in South Padre Island had affected him more than anyone else on the team.

While you waited in Aaron’s office/your bedroom, your brother paced across his room with Reid’s rattling off facts on the other end of the line. From the sounds of it, Adam Jackson wasn’t ‘coming back’ anytime soon.

“How do you know it’s worth it?” Reid asked. He said it so quickly and so in line with his other words, Hotch almost didn’t catch it.

“What?”

“This job,” the younger agent sighed. “How do you know it’s worth it?”

Hotch stopped in his tracks.

Spencer, who’d also been pacing for the entirety of their conversation, had stopped as well. He stared blankly at your desk. While you hadn’t used it in months, he’d always tried to make sure to keep it clean, but now there was a thin layer of dust on the surface. He must have been too busy with work to notice.

He’d been too busy with work to notice a lot of things.

Hotch sighed, pulling Reid’s thoughts back to their conversation.

“I don’t think I can answer that for you,” Hotch said. He opened his door slightly, catching a glimpse of you in the other room. “You have to decide that for yourself.”

Aaron couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he’d made the right decision.

“Thanks, Hotch,” Reid said. He turned away from the desk, facing the kitchen. “I should go. I have to start dinner.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I can tell Y/N-”

“No, I want to see her,” Reid said, his tone betraying the return of his nerves. “I’ll text her to come over. I just hope I can put something together in time.”

Hotch wanted to play the protective older brother and tell the younger man that a date was the last thing Reid needed after such a harrowing case. But maybe being with someone other than the team, especially someone as close to him as you, would be better for him. Better for both of you.

“I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks.”

“And Reid.”

Spencer gulped. “Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be okay to just get takeout tonight,” Hotch suggested. “Wouldn’t want you burning down the apartment before she gets there.”

Reid laughed anxiously. “I’ll figure something out. Bye, Hotch.”

This time, he was the first to hang up.

But as he felt the exhaustion make his limbs and eyelids heavy, he picked up his phone again.

And ordered a pizza.

With an empty box and not a word spoken between you, you were starting to wonder if you should leave. Aaron had warned you that Spence had had a rough time on the last case, but there was something else hanging in the silence.

“How did the interview go?” He asked, finally breaking the agonizing minutes of quiet.

“I think it went well. Sonia seems to think I’m ready for more, so that’s exciting,” you said. “I’m glad to be away from my desk after the past few weeks.”

“Yeah, you seemed a little stir-crazy,” he smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, you saw a hesitance in his hazel gaze. Setting your crust aside, you put a hand on his arm.

“Spencer, what is it?” Your fingers traced a wrinkle in his sleeve. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

“Do you think I should quit the BAU?” He blurted.

You coughed, wrapping your head around his words to make sure you understood him correctly.

“What?”

“I just…” He blew out a breath. “Sometimes it's just hard to see the point. I mean, take this case, for example. We arrested the victim and let the abuser go free. And now, there’s a scared man trapped so far into his own mind because his alternate personality won’t let him out. And you know what Morgan told me? He said ‘You’re going to have to accept the fact that sometimes we can’t save everyone.’” Spencer stood up, running a hand through his hair. “Then what’s the point? If we can’t save Tobias-”

He stopped, the last name dying on his lips. You said nothing, giving him a moment to process before he continued.

“Just think about Hotch. Even he was going to transfer, and when he didn’t, the other side of his life fell apart.” Spence shook his head. “I spend so much time trying to save everyone that I-” He took a shaking breath. “That I didn’t know you were the one that needed me the most.” Spencer turned back to you with tearful eyes. “I can’t be yours in this job.”

“No, Spencer,” you said, shaking your head and standing up to take his face in your hands. “You are everything I need you to be.” Tucking a hair behind his ear, you looked into his eyes with more assurance than you’d felt in a long time. “Your dedication to your job is just one of the things I love. And, believe me, you weren’t the first person in my life I’ve had to share with the BAU.”

The corner of his lips tugged up into a crooked smile.

You kept going. “You love your work, even though it’s dark and terrifying and messy. You save people. And no, you can’t save everyone, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying.” You leaned closer. “You saved me.”

He nodded, still holding back tears.

Eyes still searching his, you closed the space between you and kissed him as if for the first time. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you as close as he could while his lips moved against yours with a sigh of relief in his chest.

Time slowed.

You both forgot about the week you’d had and let the relaxing familiarity of each other’s embrace coax your stresses away.

For the first time in months, you slept in your own bed.

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #the in betweens

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lumine-no-hikari · 4 months ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #265 (part 1)

I had a beautiful solo adventure today. And I got so many awesome pictures for you in the process that I'm going to have to break it up into two parts, at least. I'll start from the beginning!

I finally got around to making another loaf of garlic bread. Of course, I already did some of the preparation for it yesterday, what with peeling the garlic and taking the butter out overnight to soften. Today, I cut off the woody ends of the garlic, and chopped them in my handy-dandy veggie chopper:

That represents two full heads of garlic. I would recommend that a person of more ordinary levels of garlic tolerance should probably only use one head of garlic at most; my taste for alliums quite possibly borders on insane, ahahaha~!

In any case, with this, I mixed together two sticks of butter, a bunch of dried herbs (basil, parsley, marjoram, oregano, and ground coriander), salt, and parmesan cheese:

From there, I sliced the bread in half, divided my butter in half, and spread each half of the butter on each half of the bread:

...I baked this in the oven at around 400 degrees F (or 204.4 degrees C) for about 15 minutes. Last time, I spread the mozzarella cheese on before putting it in the oven, and so the garlic didn't get toasty. I didn't have that problem this time:

...Roasty, crispy edges, and roasty, crispy garlic... This came out so perfectly.

From here, I decided that the thing to do was try a Korean-ish-style garlic bread again. We had this cream cheese that we don't have bagels for, and it needs to get used, so I softened it in the microwave, divided it in half, and applied it to each half of the garlic bread:

...From there, I applied a whole bag of mozzarella cheese to this, divided evenly between each half of the bread, like so:

...And then I stuck it under the broiler for a couple minutes to get it all melty!

...It turned out absolutely perfectly:

...I wish you could be here to try some of this with us. I wish so badly that you could have eaten some of this. But maybe someday, when you're safe and free from all the weird bullshit that surrounds you, you can look back on this letter and remember how to do this, so that you can have some in your own house with all the people who care about you.

In any case, since today was Monday, and since it was also rainy, I went to the orchard, confident that I'd basically be the only person there. Sephiroth... have you ever been to an orchard? They grow lots of things there. Usually in my area, they're known for apples:

...However, I was here for the grapes. Specifically, I was here for concord grapes:

...Sephiroth, have you ever had concord grapes? They're intensely sweet at first, and they have a tart finish. They have seeds, and they slip out of their skins. Because of the fact that they slip out of their skins so easily, they're actually kinda fragile; you have to be very careful about how you pick them and transport them, because they're plump, heavy, and eager to fall off the vine or slip out of their skin. Just being set down into the bag a little too roughly will do it. And then you get a little bit of grape juice everywhere...

Sephiroth. If you've not had concord grapes, you gotta try 'em. They're one of my favorite things, like ever. They rival even my love of garlic. They rival even my love of cheese. They rival even my love of sushi. And if you've been reading my letters up until this point, you'll know that that's really saying something!!

Hey, Sephiroth? If you ever find yourself in my neighborhood when these are in season, you wanna go together to grab some up? The drive there is beautiful, too; I think you'd have an amazing time. Even though I know it's impossible... I'll still ask you to please come along with me sometime.

I'm at 23 pictures already, and I still have so much more to show you. So I'm going to end this part of today's letter and begin the next one.

I love you!!! I'll write again in literally just a little bit!!!

Your friend, Lumine

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spicywhenspeaking · 1 year ago

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If I'm There: Chapter Fifteen

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

warnings: underage drinking, unprotected sex (ope), mentions of depression and alcoholic parents.

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic @laurpartyprogram

When I read New Moon for the first time I thought Bella was being dramatic, sitting in front of her bedroom window just staring as time passed and seasons changed. How could your boyfriend breaking up with you leave someone such a shell?

I understand now.

Time isn’t just passing by me, it’s passing through me. School and work blur together, I’m still doing relatively well in my classes but I’m not giving it much effort and my teachers have noticed. Maggie tried to pull me out of my funk and invited me out to hang out, but I constantly came up with excuses to get out of it.

Mom comes home in November and I don’t register her arrival. Maybe if she had been a normal mom I could have been the kind of teenager that could keep up with her cool rockstar boyfriend. I wouldn’t have had to be nerdy Natalie, too focused on school to step away and have fun.

Thanksgiving is as eventful as you could imagine. Mom and Dad are trying to make us seem like a big happy family again like nothing happened. Of course a week later we find Mom’s stash of vodka in her sock drawer and she sobs while dad packs her bag to haul her back off to rehab.

I don’t react. I don’t care.

Nick texts me every once in a while but I usually ignore him. I know that’s mean but I don’t want to hear about the tour or Noah. Who doesn’t reach out at all. Jerk. I take all the pictures I had of us printed out together and shove them in an old shoebox. I throw in the shirts he gave me too, along with the cd and that stupid wolf drawing I kept and bury it in the back of my closet.

“Natty, come on. Let's just get out of the house, we can go to a movie?” Kyle has been trying to make me feel better, he feels responsible for what happened with Noah. I don’t think so, he didn’t force Noah to break up with me. No. Noah did that all on his own. We end up going to see some stupid action movie, I don’t pay attention to it.

Suddenly it’s December and finals are done. The semester is over, only a few more months and highschool is done.

It’s Christmas and Kyle got me a new set of ink markers and a sketchbook. “You haven’t been drawing much, thought a new sketchbook would inspire you.” Kyle says.

I try to smile, turning through the crisp clean pages. “Thank you Ky. I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything…” my voice disappears. “I just lost track of time.”

He nods in understanding, “no worries sis, you can draw me something” he nudges me and laughs.

“Yeah, of course.” I curl up onto the couch with the empty page in front of me. I end up drawing a skeleton hand sticking up its middle finger. I rip it out of the book and hand it to him. He laughs “thanks Natty, very festive” he jokes and a small laugh escapes me.

A week later it’s New Year’s Eve and Kyle is trying to get me to go to a party with him.

“Come on Natty, you’ll have fun!” He tries to convince me but it’s not working. “Really, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to head to bed early. You should go have fun Ky.”

He reluctantly leaves me and I’m digging in my fridge smelling leftovers when I hear the doorbell.

Walking over I open the door and Maggie barges past me dressed in a beautiful silver body-con dress, her curly hair is bouncy and her make up is sparkly and bright. Perfect for New Year’s Eve. “Um..hello to you too Mags, what are you doing here?” She gives me a once over and huffs an annoyed breath. “Well after you go take the shower you desperately need. We’re getting you dressed up and going to the party Hunter is hosting a few streets away.” Hunter is the guy that works at the coffee shop that’s a year older than us. We work together some weeknights and he’s nice enough.

“Uhhh I don’t know Maggie, I’m not really in the party mood.” I tell her as I pick aimlessly at my oversized hoodie.

“I don’t care. You’ve been sad about that idiot long enough. It’s time to start living again and show everyone what a mistake it was letting you go. The first of the year is the perfect time to start!” She encourages me and ushers me up the stairs towards my room.

Thirty minutes later I’m shaved, moisturized and sitting in front of my vanity while Maggie applies my makeup. She brought a dress for me to wear, it’s a deep cut golden glittering dress that hits me in the middle of my thighs. She brought a matching pair of gold heels and I put on my small gold hoops. She’s finishing up with a light mist of setting spray and moving on to my hair. Maggie thinks I will look good with loose curls with one side pinned back. I decide to let her take full control and when she’s done I look like a different person. Well, not exactly. I look like me, just not like I’m used to. My boobs are pushed up because of the bra Maggie brought for me so they look incredible and my skin is glowing because of the luminous powder Maggie dusted me with. I feel good. For the first time since Noah dumped me, I actually feel good.

I turn to hug Maggie, “thank you.” Her arms wrap around me returning my hug. “You’re welcome Nat, now let’s go party!” Giggling, we run down the stairs together.

Hunter's house is about a ten minute walk from my house. It’s a cold night but when I reached for a jacket on my way out of the door, Maggie told me not too. That “the party would heat me up,” whatever that meant. As we round the block and head down the street towards the party my skin prickles with goose bumps and I rub my hands up and down them to warm up. Maggie sees the house and points it out. It's a big white two story colonial with warm white Christmas lights lighting it up.

The front door is open but thankfully Maggie was right and it's warm inside the crowded house. “Okay, now lets go grab a drink!” Maggie calls out over the music. A DJ that I noticed in the corner of the cleared out living room is playing “We Found Love” by Calvin Harris and I have to laugh at the irony. I follow Maggie to the kitchen where there is more alcohol surrounding the kitchen island than I’ve ever seen. She mixes two cups and hands one of them to me. I hesitate to grab it at first but eventually I take it “what the hell,” I say and take a big gulp. The alcohol burns my throat going down but leaves a warming sensation in my stomach. “Woo! Lets party Natty!!”

Maggie cheers as she raises her cup in toast and takes a sip. The crowd, the loud music and the hungry eyes that have been checking me out since we got here have me slightly nervous. I want to have fun, I want to get out of my funk and have a good time. I take the drink and chug it all down. “Another one please,” I hold out the cup to Maggie and she looks at me surprised. “Alright Natty, careful now. I don’t want you to get sick.” she warns gently. “Trust me, I'll be fine, I come from a long line of alcoholics.” I mean it to come out as a joke but Maggie just looks slightly concerned. “It's just a joke Mags, I’ll be fine.” She nods and mixes me another drink and hands it over.

I take it and we wander out towards the dance floor. It’s only 10:30 so we have plenty of time until midnight. I think the DJ is doing a countdown of songs of the year because now he’s playing “I Love It” by Icona Pop. Maggie and I are dancing and I can feel myself loosening up, swaying my hips and jumping to the beat. I feel more alive than I have in weeks. I am so thankful to have a friend like Maggie.

The next hour is a mix of dancing and drinking, I am playing a round of flip cup in the backyard. My team wins and two other senior boys that I think are on the football team I was playing with lift me up onto their shoulders in celebration. I’m laughing and definitely drunk at this point and when I look up towards the back porch and feel like my eyes deceive me and I have to do a double take.

It’s Nick and Noah. He’s here. Why is he here? He’s looking at me with wide eyes and then looking down at the very large football players that are currently holding me up and his eyes squint into a glare. I tap the boys shoulders and they place me gently back on the floor. “Thanks for the lift boys.” I joke and we share a laugh.

My eyes shift back towards the porch and Nick and Noah are gone…was I just seeing things? I am pretty drunk so It’s likely.

I walk over to Maggie and she’s looking down at her phone texting, when she looks up and see’s me she quickly puts her phone behind her back.

I eye her suspiciously. “What are you up too?” I ask.

She smiles wide and tries to tilt her head to act innocent. “Well…maybe Nick texted that him and Noah were in town…and maybe I told him where the party was.”

My eyes bugg out and I lightly push her shoulder. “Maggie! Why would you do that!! Since when are you two texting?!” She grabs my drink and hands it to me and with the added surprise I throw it back instantly. “He texts me occasionally to see how everything is going? How you’re doing, since you don’t respond to his texts….” I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to talk to them. I don't care that he’s here. I’m having fun and I’m going to dance some more.” I turn and head back towards the house. “Are you coming?” I ask back towards Maggie and she follows after.

Grabbing Maggies hand I get back onto the dancefloor with new found enthusiasm. My hips are swaying and my hands are above my head, my hair is swinging side to side. Maggie is dancing in front of me and I suddenly feel hands on my waist. Looking back I see it’s Hunter. “Nice party Hunter.” I tell him. He smiles, “Nice dress Natalie, you looks hot.” I blush at his compliment. “Thanks.” I don’t know what comes over me but I know my dancing with Hunter is becoming riskier. My back is pressed completely against his front and his strong hands are gripping my waist.

Suddenly I’m being ripped off the dance floor and away from Hunter and Maggie. “What the fuck!” I squeal, turning to see how grabbed me. I see none other than Noah.

“Put me down Noah! Right now!” I yell at him over the music. I wiggle and kick to get out of his grip but he’s too strong and I’m too drunk to figure out how to escape with any of my karate skills. What’s the point of having a black belt if I can’t remember how to break out of a hold after a few drinks. More than a few drinks I guess as the world spins and I’m set back down on my feet in the cold night air.

“Natalie, what the Hell are you doing?!” Noah says in an explosive tone.

It takes me a moment to react. To fight past the feelings of relief in seeing him. To dig deep into myself for the anger. “Excuse me?” I say and my voice is dripping with venom. “Who the FUCK do you think you are?! Wisking in to pull me away while I’m finally having fun!” I yell not caring who hears and his eyes dark around. I fight the compulsion to get closer to him, the need to reach out and touch him to see if he’s real.

He just ignores my yelling and asks again “what’s going on Natty, you’re drunk dancing on some guy? That's not like you.”

I laugh out loud “ha! What happened?! Seriously? Well..let me see.” I say in a mocking tone and tap my finger against my chin. “My boyfriend dumped me and then left without a word, then, my Mom immediately relapsed when she got home from rehab and I fell into a pit of depression that my best friend dug me out of. She brought me out to party tonight and that’s exactly what I was doing. I’m at a party. I’m partying.” My voice despite slurring slightly is resolved. He eyes me up and down, his hand reaching out, hesitating and then dropping back to his side. “You’re barely clothed. You never dress like this” he snides, “and you're drunk. I thought you didn’t drink?” He asks.

“Yeah well, I thought you said you’d love me forever but I guess things change. And you’re drunk too! How are you judging me for that right now and as for the outfit? Everyone else thinks I look hot. I know Hunter did. Should we go ask?” I know I’m pushing him but I don’t care. I move to get past him and he holds out his arm, stopping me. “No need. I know exactly what he was thinking. I saw his face, how he was looking at you like a piece of meat.” Noah’s voice sounds tormented, like watching me dance with Hunter was painful. “Well Noah! He can look at me however he wants! And I can dance with whoever I want and I can kiss whoever I want! And if I want to, I can FUCK whoever I want! You dumped me, remember? You don’t get to come back and act like my big protector anymore.” Forgetting my previous restraint I end up growling out all of this about an inch from Noah’s face. He backs me back up against the wall and keeps the distance the same. We’re nose to nose and I hear a rumble in his chest. “You deserve better than him, better than me.” My eyes roll, “oh fuck off with that. I am perfectly capable of making that kind of decision myself”

We can hear the countdown begin inside the house.

TEN…

NINE…

“I’m just trying to help you Nat, that guys bad news”

EIGHT…

SEVEN…

“Hilarious, that’s exactly what people told me about you.”

FIVE….

FOUR…

“Maybe you should have listened.” His eyes fall to my lips and I can feel deep down that I’m done for.

THREE…

TWO….

“Is that what you wished had happened. That you had stayed away from me?”

ONE... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

I shake my head and without thinking, maybe due to the drinks or because Noah is finally back in front of me and I still desperately miss him despite the heartbreak. I pull him even closer and kiss him.

At first he’s stiff, hands and body stilled until my fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he comes alive. Grabbing me back and kissing me fiercely, like a man starved and I’m the only water he’s seen in weeks, months, years.

Fireworks explode in the background and we burst apart when the rest of the party runs outside to watch the sky glitter with a chorus of colors.

Staring at each other, mouths red and swollen from our harsh kiss, he looks me up and down again and says “fuck it, do you want to get out of here?”

I nod silently and Noah takes my hand and leads me away from the party and down the street heading towards my house. Praying to the universe that Kyle isn’t home and pushing away the thoughts that are asking “is this a good idea?” “What’s going on here?” I don’t care. We kissed and everything fell away.

I am so weak.

Apparently so is he, his whole “you deserve better” thing flew out the window the second our lips touched again.

The cold air sobers us up a bit by the time we’re sitting on the floor against my bed awkwardly.

“Um, I found a stash of my moms vodka my dad didn’t catch if you want another drink?” I ask and fidget with the bottom of my dress. His eyes track my fingers on my thighs and he mumbles out a quiet “sure.”

I run out of the room back downstairs to grab two cups, filling them with ice and cranberry juice. Next, I go into the pantry and look behind the five pound sack of flour and still sitting there, a tad dusty, is half a handle of whipped cream vodka. I pour some in each drink and take the cups along with the bottle back upstairs.

Noah has moved to now sit on my bed, his head against my headboard. “I missed your room, it smells like you” he says softly as I hand him the drink.

“Yeah, well hopefully by that you don’t mean you miss my BO. I’d have to call you out for that one” I try to joke and diffuse the awkwardness. He chuckles and takes a sip of the drink. “This is good. Um, butno I don’t mean you’re BO. It just smells good. Like you”

I smile and take a sip of my own drink. “Thanks then, I guess”

We drink in comfortable silence finishing our drinks and refill the cups with another shot of the vodka. There’s not as much cranberry hiding the flavor but the sweetness of the whipped cream in the vodka is pretty easy to get down. The closeness, the renewed alcohol in our systems brings me back into my warm drunken state.

“How have you been Natty?” His eyes are downcast, not risking seeing the pain that flashes in my eyes at his question.

“I’ve been better, but Maggie has been helping me. Nick texts me sometimes, I should be better about responding. How have you been?” I ask, but I keep my eyes fixed on him.

He lifts his head and meets my gaze, “pretty shit without you to be honest, I shouldn’t have ended it like that.” His words are soft and lure me in.

“But you still would have done it?” I ask and take another sip, easing the nerves creeping up.

“I should say yes. I think you deserve so much more Nat. You deserve everything, attention and support and no drama.” His fingers trail from resting beside him to tracing the hem of my dress and I chug down the rest of the cup and set it aside. “What is life without drama?” I ask and fight against the urge to lean forward towards his warmth.

“A life free of sadness and anger?” his voice is melancholy and I feel my heart cracking again.

“Those come with life regardless. They are unavoidable for everyone.” Like an invisible force field shatters, I place my hand delicately on his shoulder, “you brought much more into my life than sadness and anger” I whisper to him, afraid of putting so much of myself out into the open but, the effects of drinking seem to have broken down my boundaries.

“You brought everything into my life” Noah replies and moves swiftly capturing my lips in a firm kiss and I instantly melt into him. Scrambling I slot my things on either side of him and tangle my hands into his hair. His hands grip my waist and move to squeeze my ass and bring me even closer. “Noah, Noah, I need you” I whimper in between kisses and he slides his hands under my dress and squeezes my flesh.

“Fuck, Natalie. I missed you so much” he says into my neck as he kisses up and down. He reaches around and unzips the back of my dress and lets it fall down my arms and around my waist.

He unhooks my bra and I rip his shirt over his head. Instantly he’s on me again, lips kissing and sucking at my skin causing me to squirm and grind down onto him feeling the hard length of him.

He flips us over and pulls the rest of my dress down and staring down at me with burning desire. My head is spinning but I refocus on the feeling of Noah pulling down my panties and trailing a path of open wet kisses towards my soaking wet core. At the first touch I buck off of the bed and a sinful whine escapes my lips.”I missed the way you taste” he moans out. And even with his mind clouded with alcohol he is a master with his tongue and I squirm in pleasure. When he adds a finger my body writhes in pleasure as I fall apart in a cry of ecstasy.

“More Noah, please. I need more” I beg and he stumbles to unbutton his pants, not even all the way off his legs before he’s sinking into my warmth. “Oh Natalie, you feel perfect. You’re everything, so good. Fuck” he moans as he begins to move his hips back and forth causing sparks of white to appear behind my eyes and the glorious feeling of being filled completely.

We’re a tad uncoordinated and unbalanced due to the alcohol but we eventually set a pace that’s causing us both to catch our breaths and moan in tandem. Noah’s hand reaches down to press against my clit and I set off into a second orgasm. My inner walls clenching around him and causing him to lose himself and spills deep into me.

“Fuck.” He gasps out and rests his head against my stomach as we both take a moment to catch our breath.

“Yeah, you can say that again” I respond half asleep.

Noah rolls off and onto the stop next to me, crashing onto the pillow and we pass out wrapped tightly together.

Hours later with the morning sun leaking into my room I groan, wiping the sleep from my eyes and while moving to sit up feeling the arms around me I am reminded of the actions of last night.

I reach over to my phone that is almost dead on my nightstand and I see I have missed texts.

Maggie: ims o drink!!! I’ll call u tmorw LUCV YOU 1:36am

Kyle: staying to make sure my boys get home safe, I’ll be back home tomorrow afternoon. Happy new year nat! 12:45am

“Shit” Noah grumbles as he slowly rises and sees the state of the two of us. “Um..how are you feeling?” He asks cautiously. I shrug “I feel tired, nauseous but also hungry? And my head is killing me” I say to him, “you?” He has his face in his hands before looking up at me. “I’m okay. I'm just- I’m sorry about last night. That was stupid” his voice is pinched and he’s throwing his legs over the side of the bed pulling his pants quickly back on and running a stressed hand through his hair. “What? What are you talking about Noah?” I demand, pulling the blanket higher to cover myself. He pulls his shirt on next and let’s put a harsh sigh. “Sleeping together, that was a mistake.”

That stings. “A mistake?” I whisper, “so you don’t even want to try and make this work?” I ask with agony clear in my voice. “You’re just going to leave? Again?”

“I shouldn’t have come over here last night, it’s not fair to you Nat. I can’t be what you deserve right now and I can’t ask you to wait around for me. I'll just complicate your life” He finally looks at me and there’s nothing I can do about the tears falling from my eyes.

“If that’s how you feel I’m not going to beg you to love me. Just go Noah. Leaving is apparently something you’ve mastered” I don’t care about the spiteful nature of my words. I just roll back over facing away from him as he finishes gathering his things and heads out of my room and out of my life again. I go back to sleep for a few more hours. I don’t cry until I’m showering off the makeup and sweat from the night before.

Kyle gets home and doesn’t ask when he sees my red rimmed eyes just gives me a side hug and tell me it will get easier.

Maggie texts me again later in the afternoon.

Maggie: YOU LEFT THE PARTY WITH NOAH?! Girl! SPILL NOW! 2:35pm

Natalie: Come over? We can have a girls night and I’ll tell you about it. Just understand that I don’t want to ever hear the name Noah Sebastian again. 2:37pm

muawh muawh ! kisses kisses ! I know it hurts but just trust the process....

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