#i can’t defend my driver anymore

[dulcetmclaren]

silvia said act like you like each other but these mofos heard fall in love

[norrisainz33]

simp || cs55

summary: carlos has a massive crush on one of hollywoods it girls, y/n and he desperately wants her to notice him

pairing: carlos sainz x famous!reader

fc & warnings: madelyn cline and suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

requested: yes! thank you for your patience!! i know this took forever

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, tatemcrae, adrianalima, lhughes_06, joeburrow, and 2,508,388 others

ynuser: can’t even tell i’m jet lagged to all heck right now thanks to my incredible team!! thanks for having me dior

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carlossainz55: jet lag has never looked better princessa

user1: how does this man always beat me here im

user2: when u show up to a who loves y/n most competition and this mf there

user55: its getting hard to make excuses for you carlos

user1: your hair omgggg you look so good

yourbff: no you're glowing

ynuser: thank you 🤍

user4: god i’m obsessed with you

joeburrow: 😍 [liked by ynuser]

yourcostar: ok i see you gorgeous girl

ynuser: i miss you

williamsracing has posted a video

liked by carlossainz55, lando, alex_albon, user55, robertomerhi, charlesleclerc, yourcostar, yourbff, and 658,234 others

williamsracing: they had a lot of fun with this quiz! check out the latest grid games with lia, carlos and alex!

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user2: carbonooooooooo

user4: i love that lia is here too omg

carlossainz55: ynuser shooting my shot 😌

user55: carlos go 1 minute without mentioning y/n challenge failed

user5: since my goat said to tag her ynuser hello did u see this

user55: god he’s down so bad ynuser please im begging

user43: ynuser carlos saved my cat from a burning building

user77: carlos built me a house ynuser

lando: ynuser hey

carlossainz55: my guy 😉

yourbff: lmaoooooooo ynuser you gotta put this man out of his misery

user55: EVERYONE STAY CALM CARLOS STAY CALM MY MAN DONT EMBARRASS US THIS IS HER BEST FRIEND

carlossainz55: yourbff ynsuer please

user4: god hes such a simp this is painful

user8: i love this trio sm

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, williamsracing, lando, charlesleclerc, yourbff, yourcostar, tatemcrae, jackhughes, zendaya, doechii, and 3,294,228 others

yunser: fun in the sun ☀️🤍

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user1: you are the definition of beauty

carlossainz55: you should try the spanish sun. i think you’d have a lot of fun under it 😉

lando: not your best work mate

charlesleclerc: mon ami what was this line

lewishamilton: next time be less obvious

user55: not even the drivers can defend him anymore

user22: body is tea

zendaya: the prettiest lady 🤍

ynuser: daya 😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍

user33: so you can paint now too?! what can’t you do

user44 the literal love of my life

ynuser has posted a private story

view all story replies

yourbff: Y E S! he is so fine it’s sickening

ynuser: he is really attractive……

yourbff: anyone with eyes can see that bb

ynuser: alright…… i’m gonna dm him

yourbff: YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS

yourcostar: i laughed out loud at this and then checked your posts and man is trying his hardest

ynuser: stoppppp 😭😭😭 he is committed and honestly i’m into it

zendaya: tom knows him!!! he’s a super nice guy. i say go for it

ynuser: if you and tom approve i’ll do it

zendaya: double date!!!!!

yourfriend1: DO IT FOR THE PLOT

ynuser: on it

yourfriend2: i have been begging you to get into f1 for years now

ynuser: you’re right…. my bad girl

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user2: you’re doing just about anything but filming that new season huh

user55: no way. no way you’re in spain. oh my god this better be about carlos. i’m gonna crash all the way out

yourbff: OMG YOIRE WITH HIM!!! AGAIN?!?!?!

ynuser: i am!! having the best time with him 🥹 after our first date in monaco he convinced me to go to spain with him over his break from driving and it has been like a dream

yourbff: you have to facetime me later and spill the beans

ynuser: if i get any alone time i will 🤭

yourbff: are you….. staying in the same hotel room?! OMG DID THEY DO THE THING WHERE THEY GIVE YOU A HOTEL ROOM THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 2 BEDS BUT WAS ONLY 1?!

ynuser: AHAHHAH no i am NOT in a romance book tho it feels like it. we chose to get a hotel room with only one bed 😏

yourbff: i’m giggling, goofing , freaking out. how dare you not tell me this !!

ynuser: i promiseeee ill call tomorrow!!

yourbff: fineee enjoy your night of f*cking. you gotta tell me how he is 😉

ynuser: STOPSJDK

carlossainz55: i’m glad you love it mi amor 🥰

ynuser: might just be because i have the best tour guide ever

carlossainz55: that definitely helps i’m sure

user4: aesthetic af

charlesleclerc: thank GOD!

ynuser: it’s been a long time coming

charlesleclerc: you can say that again

user12: on god this better be about carlos sainz

carlossainz55 has posted a story

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ynupdates: is that blondie in the corner who i think it is you ain’t slick

user2: you’re my love

lando: you in amorrrrrrrrr?!

carlossainz55: yes 😍 she’s just as amazing as i imagined

lando: awooga that’s the best news ever

user4: i can’t wait for you to get back on track

alex_albon: are you having fun????

carlossainz55: so much fun…. some would say the most fun especially because she agreed to be my girlfriend ��

alex_albon: thank GOD. george owes me £400

carlossainz55: que?

alex_albon: we took bets on if she’d fall for you or not. i said she would 😌

carlossainz55: i’m going to have to give george a call it seems. who else bet on this????

alex_albon: the whole group chat 😅

carlossainz55: give me a list of everyone who bet against me

carlossainz55: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ

carlossainz55: ALEXANDER ALBON

user55: you’re in barcelona. y/n is in barcelona…. she’s blonde… there’s a blonde in this photo that looks a lot like her….. did you do the unthinkable and get y/n to notice you?

user13: when you getting back in the car king

carlossainz55 has made a post

liked by lando, williamsracing, charlesleclerc, yourbff, ynuser, georgerussell63, yourcostar, lewishamilton and 456,233 others

carlossainz55: you know what they say - pics or it didn’t happen

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user3: oh my god he’s done it

user55: THATS MY GOAT!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU

lando: i can’t believe my eyes

carlossainz55: me neither

williamsracing: so this is why you were in the best mood i’ve ever seen and asked for a paddock pass for every race for the foreseeable future

carlossainz55: 😌🤍

alex_albon: incredible work mate

user23: wondering what insane level of simp he’s gonna reach now that he’s bagged the baddie

charlesleclerc: you are welcome!

ynupdates: claiming credit i see charles

charlesleclerc: well i helped

ynuser: my friends did send me your tweets so really you both did this

carlossainz55: and i thank you both charlesleclerc ynupdates

user34: i just stood up and applauded

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!!! likes and reblogs appreciated. been very busy recently, hopefully will have some more time to writing soon!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[lewisvinga]

not just a wag | oscar piastri x fem! leclerc! footballer! reader

summary; the leclercs are still crazy protective over their baby sister, ESPECIALLY when she’s dating a fellow f1 driver

fc; emily fox

warnings; cursing

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested ! ok so turns out as monaco doesn’t have a women’s team??? or they did but not anymore??? idk so we are gonna pretend the kit emily wears is a monaco kit and not an arsenal kit🤍 but anyways my uswnt girlies won gold😋

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and others !

yourusername: another +3 points! can’t wait to keep it up after the break 🫶🙌

tagged; teammate1, teammate2, asmonacofem

oscarpiastri: the prettiest cb itw

yourusername: 🥹

arthur_leclerc: stay???? away?????

charles_leclerc: side eye

lorenzotl: 🤨🤨

yourusername: i can’t stand u guys.

teammate1: our goal stopper 😮‍💨😮‍💨

teammate2: 🤩🤩

username: saving as monaco from conceding, that’s my goat😭🤍

username: i’m sorry but the way her brothers are always under oscar’s comment makes me laugh every time 😭

username: plz THEHRE HILARIOUS!!

username: crazy when y/n and oscar have been together for nearly 4 years too🤣

username: can’t believe she plays for my club🙌

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !

yourusername: ily monaco

tagged; oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux

oscarpiastri: yes i love monaco too

yourusername: 🤨

oscarpiastri: you are monaco , no? so i love you

charles_leclerc: she’s also a child.

yourusername: i’m 21????

alexandrasaintmleux: so gorgeous 😍🌷

yourusername: says u😫

username: MY FAVE WAGS ALEXANDRA AND OSCAR🥰🥰🥰

username: y/n wag? no! oscar is 🙂‍↕️

username: y/n’s face card lmg

username: missing football 💔

charles_leclerc: hope alex was chaperoning 🤍

yourusername: well, no!

alexandrasaintmleux: let the couple live 🙄

arthur_leclerc: why is she w a man alone then? boys have cooties🙄

lorenzotl: she’s a child??

charlotte2304: oh leave them alone! she’s grown!

yourusername: THANK YOU MY FAVORITES ALEX AND CHA!!!!!

teammate1: 🤩🤩

teammate2: 🔥

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !

oscarpiastri: 4 years with you.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: osc🥹🥹

yourusername: i love you🤍

yourusername: my wag🥸

oscarpiastri: and i love you too

oscarpiastri: my wag🤓

username: they are so cute

charles_leclerc: she’s actually a defender for as monaco and france, she is NOT JUST A WAG

arthur_leclerc: not just any defender, the best in all of france🙄🙄🙄

lorenzotl: ANDDD saved as monaco AND france many times

yourusername: i can’t stand u guys.

username: MY PARENTS!!

username: 4 years and i don’t think i’ll ever get over protective leclerc brothers 😭😭

landonorris: wow 4 years and no ring???

charles_leclerc: lando?

landonorris: yeah?

charles_leclerc: shut the fuck up.

oscarpiastri:🤨

username: 4 years of my parents 😭❤️‍🩹

username: the football player x f1 driver combo goes hard fr 😫

username: no one talking abt lando’s comment??? just me??? ok🤨

[holyblonded]

vroom vroom | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, mapi leon x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

summary: alexia, lucy, and mapi are tasked with teaching you how to drive

warnings: near death experience in a car, idk about spain’s driving laws but in most states in the US, you get your permit at 15 1/2 and then hold your permit for 9 months and be at least 16 and 3 months before you get you license so this is what it’s based on

notes: in my mind, both keira and lucy are still with barca 🧘🏾‍♀️

“You cannot be serious right now,” you said, staring in disbelief as Alexia secured the bicycle helmet onto her head, adjusting the straps with absolute precision.

“As a heart attack,” Alexia replied, now moving to put on elbow pads.

You turned to Olga, who was sprawled out on the couch, highly amused by the unfolding situation. “Tell her she’s being ridiculous.”

Olga smirked, barely holding back her laughter. “Amor, you are being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously safe,” Alexia corrected, tapping the side of her helmet with confidence.

Your jaw dropped. “Ale, you’re teaching me how to drive. A car. Not a bike, not a scooter, a car. Why are you dressed like you’re about to enter a roller derby?”

Alexia crossed her arms. “Because the last time I let you sit behind the wheel, you nearly drove us into a bush. I like my life, and I intend to keep it intact.”

“That bush came out of nowhere!” you defended yourself, exasperated.

Olga snorted. “Bushes don’t move, Estrellita.”

You shot her a glare before turning back to Alexia. “Fine. If you’re going to be like this, then I get to wear my own safety gear.”

Alexia nodded approvingly. “Good. I have an extra helmet in the trunk.”

“That is not what I meant!” you groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch.

Olga was shaking with laughter at this point, wiping her eyes. “You should’ve just taken the lesson, Estrellita. Now you’re both going to look like two children trying to qualify for their go-kart licenses.”

Alexia smirked. “Better safe than sorry.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I refuse to be seen in public with you like this.”

“Too bad,” Alexia said, grabbing the car keys and motioning for you to follow. “Because we’re going. And if you complain, I will make you wear knee pads too.”

You groaned, dragging your feet toward the door.

“Have fun, kids!” Olga called after you, still giggling.

“You have got to be shitting me!” you exclaimed, freezing in place as you climbed into the driver’s seat, only to be met with Mapi and Lucy sitting smugly in the back.

Both were decked out in full protective gear—helmets securely fastened, elbow and knee pads strapped on like they were about to be thrown into a demolition derby rather than a driving lesson.

“Why are the two of you here? And the helmets? Really?” You gestured wildly, turning to Alexia, who was climbing into the passenger seat like she was about to endure the worst experience of her life.

“Because I can’t do this alone anymore,” Alexia muttered, rubbing her temples like she was already regretting her choices.

“The helmets and guards are for our protection,” Mapi chimed in, adjusting the straps on her helmet until they were practically cutting off circulation. “Last time I took you driving, you nearly hit a mailman.”

“In my defense, he came out of nowhere,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“It was his job to be there! That’s why it’s called mail delivery. You don’t deliver it from the sky!”

Lucy snorted, reaching for her seatbelt. “Yeah, Ale called us in for backup after she told us about the bush incident.”

You groaned, slumping against the wheel. “The bush was literally in the way!”

“The bush was on the sidewalk, Estrelleta,” Alexia deadpanned.

“Okay, whatever. Everybody buckle up,” you muttered, pressing the button to start the car.

“Oh trust me, I’ve been buckled since the moment I sat down,” Mapi said, yanking the belt so tight that it looked like it might fuse with her body.

“Same,” Lucy agreed, giving her helmet a few extra taps. “You can never be too careful.”

Alexia sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose. “Alright, let’s go over the basics again before we even think about moving.”

“I know the basics,” you huffed.

“Oh, do you?” Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Then tell me, where’s the brake?”

You pressed your lips together, staring at the pedals. “Uh, the left one?”

Alexia inhaled sharply, her grip on the passenger-side handle tightening.

Lucy whispered to Mapi, “We are so gonna die.”

“You’ll be fine,” you waved them off. “Alright, here we go!”

And with that, you slammed your foot down.

The car jerked forward like it had just been launched out of a slingshot, sending Mapi and Lucy flying back into their seats with strangled yelps.

“ESTRELLETA!” Alexia screeched, bracing herself against the dashboard.

“BRAKE, BRAKE, BRAKE!” Mapi yelled, gripping the back of Alexia’s seat for dear life.

“I am braking!” you argued.

“No! You’re accelerating!” Lucy shrieked, hands gripping the ceiling as if that would help.

You let out a panicked scream, slamming your foot down on something—thankfully, this time, it was actually the brake.

Everyone lurched forward with a collective oof, and for a moment, there was complete and utter silence in the car.

Alexia, breathing heavily, turned her head very slowly to look at you.

“What,” she said, voice eerily calm, “was that?”

You gave her a sheepish smile. “A test?”

Lucy let out a weak laugh from the back. “Yeah, well, I just saw my entire life flash before my eyes, so that’s fun.”

“I think I had an out-of-body experience,” Mapi muttered, still clutching Alexia’s seat. “I literally saw myself floating above the car.”

“Okay, okay, let’s try again,” you said, clearing your throat.

“God help us,” Alexia mumbled under her breath.

This time, you actually listened to Alexia’s instructions (mostly). The car started smoothly, and for a few blissful minutes, it almost seemed like things were going well.

Until you had to make a turn.

“Turn slowly, slowly—” Alexia started, but it was too late.

You turned the wheel way too fast, sending the car swerving violently.

“SLOWLY, I SAID SLOWLY!” Alexia yelled, grabbing onto the handle above her door.

“WHY IS THIS THING SO SENSITIVE?!” you shrieked back, trying to straighten out.

Lucy and Mapi were screaming in the back.

“ESTRELLITA, I SWEAR TO GOD—” Mapi howled.

“I WANT TO GO HOME!” Lucy shouted.

Somehow, miraculously, you managed to get the car straightened out again. Everyone sat there, breathing heavily.

Alexia had her face buried in her hands.

Mapi looked like she might be reconsidering her entire life.

Lucy was muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.

Then, you approached a stop sign.

Alexia exhaled, nodding. “Alright. Good, now—”

But instead of gently stopping, you slammed the brake, sending everyone lurching forward again.

“I SAID GENTLE!” Alexia yelled.

“My bad!” you huffed.

“I HAVE WHIPLASH,” Mapi announced dramatically, rubbing her neck.

“Oh my God, I think my soul left my body again,” Lucy muttered, eyes wide.

And then, finally, you parked.

You leaned back in your seat, exhaling in satisfaction. “I think that went well.”

Alexia turned her head slowly, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

Mapi and Lucy were both still gripping their seats like they were waiting for the final impact.

“Well?” Alexia repeated, voice dangerously high-pitched.

You grinned. “Yeah! Nobody died, right?”

Alexia blinked. Then she turned to Lucy and Mapi.

“I need strong alcohol,” she announced.

“Agreed,” Mapi and Lucy said in unison.

You pouted. “That’s rude.”

Alexia pointed at you. “You are never driving without supervision.”

“I don’t think my heart can handle another lesson,” Lucy admitted.

“I know mine can’t,” Mapi added, pulling off her helmet with shaky hands.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad!” you protested.

Alexia just gave you a look. “Get out of the driver’s seat before I have an aneurysm.”

With a dramatic sigh, you unbuckled and slid out of the car. “Such little faith.”

As you walked off, Mapi turned to Lucy and muttered, “Next time, we bring airbags.”

Lucy nodded, still dazed. “And a priest.”

[leclercsluvs]

MV1 | Songs of a Healing Heart | smau

part 1 | masterlist

an: did i disappear for like 2 months? yeah. is this what i meant to post first thing back? no. not really tbh. also time stamps are not important. also the timeline does not exist in this universe, i'm including some things that's happened irl (emails i can't send), but that doesn't mean i won't use earlier songs (on purpose). also it has been some time since i last wrote something, and my first language is not english, so this isn't perfect <3 fc: sabrina carpenter pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader warnings: swearing, a spoiler for chicago fire (a character death, i will also be reminding you, when it comes, so you can skip that one post it's honestly not that important to the story) inspired by: i can do it with a broken heart - taylor swift

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, & 1.936.203 others yourusername guess who’s single again and guess who has an album coming 🥳🎉💃🎊🎈🎀

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user1 OMG OMG OMG NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC WHO’S THE HEARTBREAKER???

user2 this is gonna be my fav album of ALL TIME ❤️ by author

maxverstappen1 who hurt you?

yourusername shut the fuck up ❤️ maxverstappen1 never 😌 danielricciardo wow max, really shooting your shot nicely hm maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up ❤️

yourusername

liked by georgerusell63, charles_leclerc, & 1.016.358 others yourusername *aggressively writes songs* >:)

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georgerussell63 why do you need to do it aggressively?

yourusername because why not?🤷‍♀️ georgerussell63 because aggression is not the answer 🤨 yourusername says who? >:( georgerussell63 says max yourusername that’s a lie.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, & 1.398.244 others yourusername guess what’s finally here! to everyone asking, i’m doing fine, don't worry.

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charles_leclerc okay so there was definitely more than one asking if she’s fine, who else did?

maxverstappen1 i did danielricciardo i did landonorris i did lewishamilton i did yourusername you all did 😑 oscarpiastri like everyone??? 🤔 yourusername as in everyone on the grid, even a few not on the grid anymore. the next one asking, will be feeling my greatness. logansargeant if that’s a threat, max should be the next one asking maxverstappen1 what the fuck

yourusername (chicago fire spoiler)

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, & 2.542.658 others yourusername this idiot forced me out of the house (i was very busy and comfortable watching chicago fire) and now i’m at the track?????

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maxverstappen1 you’re welcome

yourusername i’m not thanking you. i’m fine maxverstappen1 then why were you crying? yourusername uhm because otis just died and he was a good character georgerussell63 SPOILER WARNING??? OTIS DIES?? yourusername oh whoops yeah he does. very sad. very cryable.

charles_leclerc max is right yn. you need to get out a bit more.

yourusername aww charles defending his boyfriend

user3 yn is hanging out with the drivers???

user 4 well yeah. she and max have been friends for quite some time now. she's been to a few races as well user3 woah how did i not know?? user4 she kept a low profile because her boyfriend (or ex) didn’t really want it to be too public. she did take photos with some fans but asked of them to not take photos of her and her bf. how the paparazzi didn't catch them is a mystery to me.

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, yourusername, & 2.990.363 others maxverstappen1 isn’t she cute when she’s being sad in the rain on top of your car so you can’t drive her home?

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yourusername now why would you post this? :(

maxverstappen1 because you got yourself sick. yourusername that’s not a good reason danielricciardo because he loooooooves you maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up daniel yourusername shut the fuck up daniel

user5 max and yn having matching responses to daniel saying max loves yn is super cute imo

alexandrasaintmleux i would never post pics like this of you 💕

yourusername we should leave them and go live happily ever after 🤭 charles_leclerc you do know we can see your comment right? alexandrasaintmleux oh so you can see? 🤨 charles_leclerc I SAID I’M SORRY

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, & 1.207.087 others yourusername oh? had a lovely dinner. thank you anonymous man.

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maxverstappen1 looks cozy 👀

yourusername definitely enjoyed the company 🙃 danielricciardo i feel like there’s secrets here 🤨 yourusername like what?

landonorris looks a little like max

oscarpiastri what if it was me? then i would be hurt by this statement :( landonorris well you and i spent the day together yesterday  so i know it’s not you.

user6 okay but the power duo that is max and yn

user7 if it is max

user8 if he makes her happy i guess that’s great? ❤️ by author

[verstappensrealwife]

Cellophane - Charles Leclerc x Reader

[charles leclerc masterlist  / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... charles won't defend reader online due to hate she's receiving. ʚɞ angst, fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1000 words ʚɞ warnings: I wanted to do a pure angst but i just couldn’t, reader falls over, breakup (beginning) ¿happy? ending I guess. Use of Y/N, Y/L/N.

-୨♡୧-

— September, 2023

The hate online isn’t nearly what made your heart into a thousand pieces, it was the lack of support from the one man you wanted support from.

“Why won’t you do this for me?” You asked Charles, a hushed tone of voice. “I- You can’t just ask them to stop?” You were almost begging for him to just… care.

“I can’t!” He shouted back- a harsh contrast to your own tone- “Fuck- You know this! They’re my fans!”

“And them telling me to die is what? Fan behaviour?”

He sat in agonizing silence, every word you spoke cutting deep because he knew you were right. But the thought of admitting it, of crumbling under the weight of his own mistakes, was unbearable. 

So, he clung desperately to his fragile pride, refusing to apologize, even as guilt gnawed at him.

“If you can’t handle it anymore, you…” His voice faltered, the words catching in his throat like shards of glass.

He couldn’t finish, and you could see the unspoken truth hanging between you, heavy and inevitable.

“I should what, Charles?” You demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “Say it.”

His breath hitched as he forced the words out, each one laced with regret. “We… we shouldn’t be together.”

The confirmation of your darkest suspicions sent a wave of anguish crashing over you. Tears welled in your eyes, and you tipped your head back, desperately fighting them off before regaining just enough composure to meet his gaze.

“You’re a coward, Charles,” you spat, the accusation dripping with bitterness. Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel, snatching your keys from the table by the door. The slam of the door echoed through the apartment, a final, resounding note to the shattered remains of what once was.

— April, 2024

“Come onnnn, it’ll be fun!” Lily exclaimed dramatically, waving the tickets in your face with a mischievous grin.

“Lily… he’ll be there,” you murmured, the hesitation clear in your voice.

Lily Muni He, your best friend and eternal partner in crime, rolled her eyes playfully. “And so will like ten other single drivers,” she shot back with a smirk, “Plus, a ton of rich, single men,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving her a gentle shove. “Fine, fine, I’ll come,” you groaned, snatching the paddock pass from her hand.

“For you, Lily— not the men!”

Saturday, 25th May 2024

Monte Carlo, Monaco.

The first few days had passed without a glimpse of him, and for that, you were grateful. Today felt promising, the crisp morning air in Monaco filling you with a rare sense of optimism. You decided to start your day with a leisurely walk through the city, a few good hours before qualifying, giving you plenty of time to grab breakfast and soak in the peaceful atmosphere.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

“Leo!” a familiar voice called out, breaking through your thoughts. You turned just in time to see Charles sprinting around the corner, chasing after his little dog, the leash flapping uselessly behind him as Leo seized the opportunity to dart away.

And then, before you could react, Charles collided with you, sending you sprawling onto the pavement with a startled yelp. The impact knocked the breath out of you, and before you could fully process what had happened, you felt a warm, wet tongue eagerly licking your ear and jaw. You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as you sat up, only to find Leo wagging his tail furiously, clearly pleased with himself.

“I—I am so sorry,” Charles stammered, thrusting his hand out toward you. That’s when you looked up and met his eyes, and the surprise and awkwardness on his face softened a little. “Y/N?”

You hesitated for a moment, then chose to stand up on your own, brushing off the lingering embarrassment. “Charles,” you greeted, your voice tinged with awkwardness.

“S-sorry—he—he just ran off…” Charles fumbled, pointing to Leo, who was still beaming up at you, his tongue lolling out in delight. You noticed the slight stutter in Charles’ voice—something he never did in front of anyone. Then again, you weren’t just anyone.

“It’s fine,” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Not the first time you’ve embarrassed me.” You teased, watching as Charles forced a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m joking,” you added quickly. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, good!” Charles responded a little too quickly. “I got a dog!” he announced proudly, then blushed as he realized how obvious that was. “But, uh, you can see that.” He laughed, a little sheepish.

“How about you? Boyfriend?” he asked suddenly, the question tumbling out before he could stop it. It was a little inappropriate, but the curiosity—no, the longing—was clear in his eyes.

You offered a shy smile, shaking your head. “No… I did, but we broke up.”

“Oh?” Charles tried to sound casual, though he already knew about your ex—he might have checked your Instagram a few times. “How come?”

You sighed softly, glancing away before quietly admitting, “He wasn’t you…”

A slow, hopeful smile spread across Charles’ face. It might have been a little insensitive to feel happy about your breakup, but he didn’t care. Maybe, just maybe, you still loved him.

“I can be better,” he blurted out, his voice tinged with desperation. “I—please…” He sighed, the words hanging in the air between you.

You looked at him, your heart caught between old memories and new possibilities. “Qualify P1, and I’ll take you up on your offer,” you said, a small smile playing on your lips.

Charles grinned, hope flickering in his eyes. Maybe this time, things could be different.

[captainreecejames]

"You Can Call Her Phone" series (Lando's Version)

author's note : so I'm thinking if you guys like this I can do it with other drivers (only Oscar, Logan, Alex, Yuki, Liam, Pierre, and Carlos), but you'll have to give me the idea of why they're answering in the first place. I've got a George one lined up next so stay tuned for that.

pairing : Lando Norris x fem!reader

warnings : once again a lot of cursing and shitty men, not proof read

word count : 627

The walk home had been quick, because you refused to have this argument in the middle of the Monaco streets where anybody could hear or see. The crowd at the club had been embarrassing enough. So as soon as you got inside, Lando was ready to defend himself.

“He called you his bitch, babe! I wasn’t going to sit there and let him call you those things!” He was fuming, mostly at the aforementioned man, but there was no one else there to listen to him. 

“And then you basically called me your personal stripper, Lando!” He opened his mouth to talk, but you kept going. “That was so inappropriate and uncalled for. I just can’t even believe you would say something like that.”

He understood where you were coming from, honestly. But Jack had been making eyes at you the whole night without you being aware, and when you went to dance with some friends, he started making lewd that got under his skin. It wasn’t a surprise that Lando had snapped. “He started way before the bitch comment, babe. Okay, and i just couldn’t sit there anymore and take it. He needed to know-“

The phone ringing cut him off and he looked at the screen in your hand.

Jack.

“Is he really fucking calling you after all that?” Lando’s eyes had darkened. “Give me the phone.” You listened, handing him the phone with a resigned look on your face. “What the fuck do you want?” Lando asked him, voice steady with an anger you hadn’t head in a while. “No I’m not gonna give her the fucking phone, you ripe shithead. After the way you spoke about her and to her face, you’re lucky you’re even in the city right now. Because if I had my way, I’d have your ass sent to a fucking tundra where you can’t ever be warm again.” You heard yelling from the other line, but none of it was clear enough for you to make out what he was saying. “I will get a fucking restraining order on you and your goddamn dog if I ever hear that you come near us again, got it?” More yelling came from the other line, but Lando didn’t wait for him to finish, hitting the red end call button.

“You done?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to return your phone.

“One second, I’m blocking him on everything so he can’t talk to you again.”

“And if he makes a second account?”

“I’ll fucking call up Mark Zuckerberg and get him banned from making any social media again.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” He rose an eyebrow at you, but you made no move to grab your phone from him. With a sigh, you dropped your hand and stepped closer to him, pushing your phone away so he would look at you. “Seriously Lan, I want you to know that I’m not okay with what you said tonight at the club. It was one, out of line; and two, none of their business.” That got him to smirk, moving his hands to your waist to pull you flush against him.

“I know baby, I was out of line when I said that to him. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my words.” He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him, content with the apology for now. “But just so we’re on the same page, you’re my private dancer?”

You moved to hit his chest, but he caught it first, bringing your hand up to his mouth for a light peck. When you didn’t answer, he licked your hand and you shrieked. “That’s gross, Lando!” But the smile on your face told him that everything was okay for now.

[shanklin]

For the very sad realitivity falls au

I was thinking it really needed some comfort.

Which got me thinking about Soos, if Soos became like a son figure to Stan, maybe the opposite in realitivity falls?

Maybe Soos becomes like a father figure to Stan (dear lord that poor boy needs it especially with the whole Filbrick situation)

Stan: *sighs* Look I better go, I don’t want to burden you anymore than I already have.

Soos: Nah it’s fine dawg, c’mon, sit down with me. This cool new show is about to come on!

Stan: But, aren’t I selfish for wanting to spend time with you? Wouldn’t you rather do it with Ford?

Soos: Dude, you are being too hard on yourself. I want to spend time with you dawg, because you’re an awesome dude! *ruffles Stan’s hair*

Stan: *trying to hold back tears* I uh-have dust in my eyes.

Soos: There, there dude, let it all out. *hugging Stan*

Stan: *sobbing* I just want to be loved, but I—

Soos: I’ll be here for you

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Rejoice, dear Anon! You’re getting out of prison early on good behavior!

Soos becoming a father like figure for Stan broke me. Haven’t stopped thinking about this since. I love it dearly.

This ask also made me realise a couple of things

I have no idea what Soos’ role usually is in Relativity Falls AUs

I don’t care. Don’t tell me. Soos is Soos. Maybe a tiny bit older than in canon. 30ish?

I imagine Stan to be like 15 in this for extra angst. He still hasn’t gotten a proper growth spurt yet and definitely has no drivers licence.

…I forgot what number four was. I was too preoccupied in outlining a fic in my head that I’m totally never gonna write. Don't look at the word count

Okay so, comfort? Sure! Dad!Soos! Perfect! Tonal shift with slight crack components incoming? More likely than you’d think!

Where did we leave off?

Filbricks dead, yaay!

Mabel, Dipper and Ford are currently having multiple breakdowns over how much they failed Stan.

And Stan? Stan’s on the run. He’s a murderer now and certain the police are after him and actually let’s say he’s right about that one. It doesn’t help that Filbrick had friends in the police force or at the very least used to pay them off on the regular.

One moment Stan stands above his fathers unmoving body looking at his hands - he really needs to wash his hands.

The next he's a state over in the middle of nowhere in a stolen car that's running out of gas with no money, no food and only the clothes on his back.

He’d curse himself for not taking supplies with him but what the point? He deserves this. He’s a murderer. A selfish, rotten, evil person. He should turn back and surrender. Get himself locked up and pay for his crimes.

But that would mean he’d have to face Ford and the rest of his family. They would come and judge him. See how bad he really is. He can’t do that. He can’t face them. He’d rather die than face their disgust and disappointment.

And yet somehow. Something in him still wants to live. The selfish part of him that refuses to shut up and let him be. That makes him do awful things and hurt others.

Everyone was right about him. So there is no point anymore in trying to be better. He might as well embrace it. It’s easier than thinking about Pa staring at him with dea-no no no no. That doesn't matter. Nothing matters except his own survival.

His car runs out of gas near the woods. It’s dark and cold and the wind howls in the distance. Stan's fight or flight instinct goes into overdrive. He desperately looks for a weapon to defend himself with. After a couple of minutes of frantic searching he finds a small pocket knife in the glove compartment. This will have to do.

There are headlights in the distance coming ever so slowly closer and Stan grasps the knife tighter.

Go away go away go away, Stan silently begs but the car comes to a halt behind him and a large man steps out.

Stan gulps and tightens his resolve. He's a criminal. A- a- murderer. He’s already done the worst thing imaginable to survive. And he will continue to survive. 

Even if that means he has to hurt and kill others. Stan steels himself and decides to do the unforgivable once more. He will kill this man, take his car and money and only live for himself.

A knock on the window. Stan lowers it, ready to strike. One swift stab in the neck and it will alll be over.

“Sup little dood! Need some help there?”

Stan falls over, he drops the knife and stumbles back shaking.

The man chuckles and picks up the knife. This is it. This is how Stan will die. Killed in the middle of nowhere by a gopher like serial killer. No one will never know what happened to him

“Here you go dude. You lost your knife. You need to be careful with these things. Could’ve accidentally stabbed me or something.”

The man holds out the knife and Stan snatches it up and moves back further, holding it protectively over his chest.

“What- what do you want?”

Stan's voice is hoarse. He hasn't used it in days, he realises. And the last time he did, he was shouting before before-

“Saw your car parked here in the middle of these creepy woods and thought you might need some help.”

"Well, I don't. So f-fuck off.” 

Stan flinches. It never ends well when he gives adults attitude. Shit. Shit, why did he do that?

Luckily the man doesn’t react to his mistake. Maybe he didn’t hear him?

“Aw dude. I’d feel bad leaving you all alone. Is your dad here somewhere?”

The man looks around for Stan's…dad. Stan's throat feels like sandpaper.

“No. He’s gone.” Stan whispers and the man's eyes soften.

“I’m sorry du-”

“Gone to get some gas!” Stan exclaims all of a sudden, shoving all his terror, anxiety and guilt into a dark corner in his mind. He needs to put on an act if he wants to survive.

“He’ll be back soon so you can just. Go.”

“Ah no. That’s alright. I’ll wait with you until your dad comes back. It’ll be great. I’ve got some snacks in my car and we can play I spy. See, I’ll start. I spy something green!”

“A tree?” 

"Woah, Dude! You’re like super good at this.”

Is this guy for real? He’s clearly mocking Stan, only. Not. He seems way too sincere. Stan hates it.

“Well this was fun, but you should really go. Stranger Danger and all that”

The man's eyes widen in shock.

“Totally forgot! Sorry, Dude! I’m Soos.”

He holds out his hand. Stan eyes it suspiciously.

“You’re not going to leave are you?”

“Not until you’re safe. Can’t leave a kid like you out here all alone. Your dad, like, shouldn’t have done that. That’s not cool dude.”

Stan might be stupid, but he's not an idiot. The guy is most definitely gonna turn out to be a creep and/or serial killer. The moment Stan lets his guard down around him he’s done for. He should insist the guy leave or better jump out of the car and run away. As starved and tired as Stan is he’d be no match for a big dude like Soos, even if he uses his small pocket knife, but he could probably outrun him in the woods.

There is no way for Stan to come out of this alive.

Either he will piss the guy off by insisting he leave and get murdered or he runs into the woods, gets lost and dies of exposure far away from civilization. 

His only other option is to wait with the guy and play his stupid games until he realises no one will come for Stan and he’s free to do as much axe murdering as he pleases.

No matter what he does. He’ll end up dead, abused and broken with no one to grieve for him. He’s sick and tired of feeling like this. Helpless. No, he needs to stay strong. Strong and selfish.

Stan takes the outstretched hand and shakes it firmly. Just like Pa taught him to do. The firmer your handshake is, the easier it will be to make a deal in your favor.

“Steve Pinington and actually I don’t think my dad will come back anytime soon. He probably got lost and is waiting for me in the next town over. Would it be okay if I hitch a ride with you?”

It was surprisingly easy to convince the man of his lie. Apparently if you get lost you should always stay exactly where you are until you’re picked up. Stan is pretty sure it doesn’t work like that for adults but he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

New plan.

Make the creep think Stan is just a helpless, innocent and naive kid

Wait until he falls asleep and slit his throat

Take all his money and leave the country. Or something. Stans will figure it out later. Maybe he could  steal a boat…

The drive is nice. There’s food, water and warmth. It makes his hands tingle. He didn’t notice how cold he was before.

Stan gets forced into playing silly road games and when his answers become slower and he feels his eyes droop Soos turns down the music and puts a blanket around him.

Stan tells himself he's just keeping up the act and will only pretend to fall asleep but is out cold a moment later anyway.

***

He wakes up with a scream and swings fist at the nearest object which happened to be the face of his kind of kidnapper.

A crunch. Blood. A body lying at his feet. His hands. He needs to wash his hands.

“Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I’m sorry-” Stan can’t breathe. There’s blood on his hands. Where is he? He’s sorry.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine dude. I Shouldn’t have woken you like that. It’s just a nosebleed, see?” 

Soos smiles and holds his hands up as the blood drips down his face, over his teeth and onto his shirt. It’s not a pretty sight. Stan looks away.

“You know, one time I tried to see how many hot dogs I could eat at once but I choked and pieces got stuck in my nose. I bled out sausage chunks for like a week straight.”

A weak chuckle escapes Stan's throat. “Eww that’s disgusting.”

Soos clumsily wipes off the blood from his face and holds out some fresh tissues for Stan. He takes them gratefully. It’ll have to do until they find a proper bathroom to clean up.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright little dude.” Soos replies and ruffles his hair. Stan tenses up but lets it happen. He feels the phantom touch long after it’s gone and it takes all of Stan's self control not to trace it his head. He flashes in embarrassment. It felt…safe.

Oh, the guy really knows what he’s doing. Stan will do the world a favour by killing him.

***

To the surprise of no one Stan’s “lost dad” is nowhere to be found. They spend the whole day exploring every inch of the town and asking people if they’ve seen Stan's dad. Stan makes a game out of it, trying to see just how outrageous he can make the descriptions until people think he’s lying.

Soos never once questions his stories.

Eventually they have to give up their search and get ice cream instead. It's the best day Stan had in years. He feels sick.

***

Soos gets them a motel room and opts to sleep on the floor when it becomes clear that only single bed rooms were available. 

His kidnapper is really bad at this, Stan ponders as he watches the man snore. At this rate he’s going to develop Stockholm syndrome and fall in love with him or something. Stan grimaces in disgust. Yep. That’ll do it. He needs to kill him now and proof once and for all that he can survive on his own.

He sneaks out of bed and quietly leans over the man, knife in hand. There’s drool on Soos' face and his nose looks swollen. Stan did that. He hurt him. And Soos didn’t care. He laughed it off with a silly story and distracted Stan until he could breathe again. 

Soos grunts and Stan flinches. The knife falls out of his hands and onto the carpet, nearly missing Soos’ neck. For a moment Stan's heart stops and when it beats again it's racing. With shaking hands Stan pushes the knife into the farthest corner of the room and curls up next to Soos.

He failed.

***

The next morning he wakes up in bed all wrapped in a warm blanket.

Soos greets him but Stan isn’t listening. 

It's all over. He can’t do it. It makes no sense. Why can’t he do to a stranger what he did to his own father, intentionally or not. He can't remember. It doesn’t matter. It changes nothing.

Stan is stuck. He knows, logically, he could just make up an excuse and escape, but he doesn’t want to. Soos feels - it's not safe. No one is safe. But he feels harmless and he's a good distraction. As long as Stan focuses on Soos won’t have to think about anything else.

“Hey, Soos.”

"Yeah?"

“I don’t think we’ll find my father here. He probably left town already. So, eh, can I just come with you?” Stan fiddles with his hands. They always look wrong. Always a finger short. “It’s to look for my dad of course. I’ll be gone before you know it. I promise I won’t be a bother and I can help out with things! I’m good at following orders and I-”

“Dude! Dude! Say no more. I’ve so gotchu. We’re totally the same. I’m also looking for my dad.”

“What?”

At Stan's befuddled expression Soos picks up the briefcase he's been carrying around and sits now next to Stan.

“You see, my dad left as well when I was little. Littler than you even and I’ve always wanted to meet him, but he never came. All I got were some postcards.”

Soos opens the briefcase and pulls out a card. Stan ignores it in favour of staring at the rest of the content in the case. Holy shit. That's a lot of money. Soos continues undeterred.

“Well, it’s always been my dream to play catch with my dad and I almost gave up on it but then I got this!”

Soos hands Stan a plain looking card.

“Son, 

I’m in a bit of a pickle and I could really use some help. Meet me at this address and bring 50 grand with you. You’re the best, champ.

Love, Dad.”

Stan stares at the card. Then back to Soos. Then back at the card. 

“You know this is a scam, right?” Stan waves the card in front of Soos who, stands up, grabs it and puts it back in without meeting Stan’s eyes.

“Perhaps,” Soos mutters. “But I still gotta try. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean I had my Abulita and she was great, but it wasn’t the same. And now she’s in heaven and I’ve got no one else left besides him. Maybe he needs the money for a fresh start and will come back home with me!”

Soos sniffles and rubs his eyes. “So yeah. Maybe it’s not the smartest thing to do, but I have to try.”

Stan hugs his knees and is quiet for a long moment.

“In my experience, money is the only thing that will make a dad like you, so it might work out after all.”

Stan peeks at Soos but it looks like his attempt at comforting the man failed. He looks even more heartbroken than before. 

***

Despite Stan's failure Soos agrees to take Stan with him and even suggests their dads might be at the same place. Who knows. They could be part of a secret run away dad club and play a very long and drawn out game of hide and seek.

Stan manages to muster up a smile at the suggestion and helps Soos pack their things. Not that they have much to begin with. Most of Soos things are still in the car and Stan suddenly becomes acutely aware that he still only has the clothes on his back with him. He’ll need to find a way to steal some while Soos isn't looking.

They’re about to leave when Soos spots something in the corner of the room and moves to pick it up. It’s the knife.

“Here you go. We almost forgot it. Be careful not to lose it. You never know when it might come in handy!”

“Thanks…”

Stan almost tosses the knife out right then and there, but instead he puts it back into his pocket. Soos is right. He should stay vigilant.

***

The next couple of days pass by like a dream. Most of the time in the car is spent playing silly word games and arguing about music. Apparently Stan has the taste of an old man. Which is ridiculous. He just prefers the classics, which are classics for a reason! They won’t be forgotten in two weeks like Soos top 20 hits.

[When was the last time Stan listened to music just because he can? How come he’s feeling so strongly about it? Music should be just a way to attract customers and nothing else. Certainly not fun. STOP HUMMING BOY]

At some point the car breaks down and Soos has Stan help him with the repairs. He makes a show of opening the hood and explaining what he’s doing. 

It’s awkward and the nervous energy Soos gives off as he keeps checking if Stan is still listening puts him on edge.

He briefly wonders if Soos is trying to place a bomb inside, but then he holds the tools out to Stan and asks him to give it a go.

Confused about the whole thing Stan does as instructed and finds himself grinning as the engine roars back to life.

“Well done!” Soos cheers and holds his palm out into the air. “Up top!”

Stan blicks and lightly taps the hand in a high six, blushing at the praise.

Soos throws an arm around Stan and guides him back into the car.

Maybe this isn’t a dream. Maybe the last three years were just a bad nightmare and he’s actually been travelling with Soos and having the time of his life, while Ford is off studying weird stuff with Grunkle Dipper.

So Stan pretends he’s just on a fun extended road trip with his friend Soos. It’s great! They eat all the junk food they can get their hands on, sing loudly to bad songs, stay up and sleep as long as they want to and visit every bad tourist trap they come across.

Those are Stan's favourites! The attractions are clearly fake and nonsensical but also the best things Stans ever seen!

Some are just a normal object but big while others try a bit harder to keep your attention with fake curiosities and stories.

There even was one Tax Education Center and Fun Park where you learned everything about the history of taxes and how to file them correctly. Or how to avoid them, if you’re like Stan and know how to read between the lines. 

Eventually, Stan managed to piss off another kid hellbent on becoming the most esteemed IRS agent the nation has ever seen. 

The fist fight that ensued will be retold for generations to come! 

Or at least got them both a lifelong ban from the museum. Stan forgot how much fun fighting was when the opponent is not double your size and responsible for your basic needs.

He leaves the kid with a short “See ya!” and starts running as the kid shouts after him in rage.

“I won’t let you get away with this, Steve Pinington! Mark my words! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

Stan is full on belly laughing when he meets up with Soos.

“Made a new friend?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Stan grins through his split lip. That felt amazing.

***

“Here Soos look!” Stan exclaimes as he shows off his fake abominations that he made out of junk from a nearby trash can.

This tourist trap thing is easy!

He gives Soos the grand tour around the little stand he built on the car and makes up fantastical and true stories of wonder and mystery about the items and tops it all off with the little broken toaster he found. He gave the toaster some cardboard eyes and legs that move with the help of hidden strings and voilà!

The Footbot 9000!

It even talks! Stan’s bad attempt at ventriloquism earns him some snorts and a wonderous “Woah, mommy mommy it speaks!” from the little toddler at the front of the crowd.

Wait. When did that happen? Where did all the people come from?

Stan looks around in alarm and finds Soos farther in the back watching him with glistening eyes. Is Soos crying?

Stan needs to get out of here but there's no good opening and then clapping starts courtesy of Soos.

With no escape in sight Stan takes a bow and thanks his audience.

“How much for the Footbot?” The mother of the toddler asks.

“30 Bucks.”

“10”

“20”

“Deal.”

One firm handshake later and Stan is the proud new owner of a crumpled 20 dollar bill with more to come as more suckers have already shown interest in some of the other junk he put out.

In the back there are people whispering and pointing at Stan. He better hurry up and get out of here before he gets them kicked out of town for selling broken toasters and literal trash.

***

“You know I think I’ll open my own tourist trap in the future” Stan says and takes another bite of his burger. “That was fun.”

“You were amazing! I was totally entranced by your wondrous tales of mystery. You’re like a genius at this, dude!”

A genius? Him? Stan’s not a genius.

Then agaaain. Ford is supposed to be a genius and he wouldn’t be able to put on a show like this.

A giggle escapes him and he kicks his legs under the table.

He can’t wait to tell Sixer and see his dumbfounded expression. Stan the genius. HA! That'll show him for staying home and missing out on the road trip of a lifetime!

***

Stan hands over the money he’s earned as soon as they arrive at the motel. Stan did so well today. He’s still giddy about it.

He found himself a plan for the future, made money AND got praised. The day couldn’t have gone better.

It’s almost a shame he has to go to sleep. But alas. Them's the rules. With a quiet hum under his breath Stan starts to get ready but is stopped by Soos, who is still holding the money.

“What’s up?”

“You don’t need to give me this.” Soos looks pained. 

“I don’t understand. What else am I supposed to do with it? The room has already been paid…”

“No, little dude. You can keep it for yourself. Your company is payment enough.”

Stan shakes his head. This isn’t right. Soos is taking care of things so Soos gets to keep all the money Stan makes. It’s only fair.

“No! You keep it. I don’t want it” 

“It’s fine dude here” Soos takes Stan’s hand and pries it open trying to return the bills. They fumble around and Soos won’t let go forcing it back into Stan’s hands. Stan can’t have the money! It isn’t right. But Soos is stronger than him and refuses to let it go.

“It’s yours. I don’t want it!” Stan repeats, runs to the bathroom and turns on the shower to cancel the noise from the outside.”

Stan needs to pay Soos back for taking care of him. He already wasted so much money on Stan. On food and clothes and sightseeing. Oh. Oh no. Was the money not enough? That's why he didn’t want it, right? It was basically an insult. Here I give you two drops of water back so forgive me for tuning the ocean into a desert and wasting it all on me.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door. Stan flinches with every bang. 

BANG

BANG

BANG

“Just come in!” Stan shouts to make the noise stop.

The shower turns off and in the absence of water pouring down on him he becomes acutely aware of the wet clothes sticking to his body, dragging him down.

Soos wraps him in a towel.

“I’m sorry dude for pushing. I’ll keep the money for now and we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Stan nods and hopes later never comes. 

Soos gets him a change of clothes, helps him dry up and guides him to bed. Stan lets it all happen. He’s too tired to think and following orders is easier. More familiar. 

Stan falls asleep to a comforting hand stroking his hair.

***

Life is great! Stan decides as he jumps out of bed the next morning with renewed vigor. Yesterday evening was just a bad dream and he’s ready for a bright new day.

Who knew food, sleep and good company was all you needed to be happy?

Soos throws him an odd look before leaving to get them some breakfast.

Stan shrugs it off and turns on the TV. Soos is a weird guy so weird looks aren’t out of the ordinary.

He flips through the channels not looking for something particular. It’s been a while since he last had time to sit down and watch something.

He’s about to give up and do something else when the picture on the news is stopping him dead in his tracks.

It's him. It's Stan. 

15 year old Stanley Pines wanted for questioning in relation to the murder case of Filbrick Pines. The authorities ask the public to be vigilant as he is suspected to be armed and dangerous.

There's even a reward out for tips leading to his whereabouts.

The world around him shatters.

His little game of make belief turns into shards cutting into him and leaving nothing but sharp and cold reality behind.

Just what the hell has Stan been doing?

A fun road trip? Making plans for the future? Is he actually insane?

He fucking killed his dad. Let him bleed to death on the kitchen floor as he just watched in silence.

Exactly like he planned to do to Soos.

There is no future for Stanley Pines. Or Steve Pinington. Or any other name he’s going to come up with in order to trick people into liking him for a short while.

The moment Soos finds out what Stan has done it will all be over. Soos will be just like the rest of his family and see Stan for what he really is. A rotten and selfish child. A murderer. Someone not deserving of the love and care Soos showed him.

Maybe he can trick him into believing it’s some other child on the news. Soos is pretty naive sometimes. He could make it work!

Stan shakes his head. 

No. Stan is done pretending.. Eventually someone.will recognize him and then Soos will be in trouble as well for harbouring a criminal.

Steps in the hallway. No time to think. Stan needs to escape. Now!

He puts on his shoes, grabs the jacket and Soos’ briefcase and sprints out of the door.

If the money goes to waste on a good for nothing criminal anyway it might as well go to Stan instead. Really he's doing Soos a favour.

Someone runs after him but Stan is faster.

“Dude, wait! It’s alright, don’t go. Stan, STANLEY WAIT!

Stan is already out of town before he realises that Soos called him by his real name.

To be continued

This was supposed to be just a quick summary or a couple of bullet points about how Stan and Soos could become family in this AU.

And it was also supposed to be a bit more unserious and ha ha, so what if Stan tried to constantly kill Soos and couldn’t get rid of him. But it turned out quite different and not as bullet pointy as I set out to do.

I’m still a little bit in denial about that. But Stan is in denial for most of this as well. So it fits.

I wanted to completely finish it before posting but that’s gonna take too long and I've got no time. So for now have a sad ending for the sad relativity falls AU.

Don’t worry though. It will have a very sweet happy end. With lots of comfort. Maybe.

But for now let's all imagine Stan once again all alone and on the run :D

[steddiealltheway]

By some twist in fate, Eddie and Nancy become friends.

It starts when Eddie sees her at The Hideout standing out very much in the sea of dark clothes wearing a lavender sweater and jeans. Eddie tells his band mates he’ll be right back when he rushes off to Nancy, noticing how people are starting to stare at her a bit.

“Nance?” Eddie asks, hands in the pockets of his black jeans trying not to make it obvious that he’s fidgety. He knows that she can defend herself, but it looks like some of the guys in the bar are going to test it, and he hopes his presence will make them back off a bit.

Nancy turns and her eyebrows furrow before she gives him a tight smile. “Eddie? What are you doing here?”

“Just finished up a gig. What are you doing here?” Eddie asks.

Nancy looks around and loudly says, “I was just here to see you play. I can’t believe I missed it.” She throws her arms around Eddie and whispers in his ear, “I’m looking into something.”

As she pulls away, Eddie smiles and puts his arm around her. “How about we talk outside?”

Nancy nods and walks toward the exit. Eddie turns and waves Gareth off as he stares at him with his jaw dropped.

As soon as they’re outside, Nancy lets out a deep breath and Eddie rushes off to his van, not trusting the few people outside staring. He opens the passenger door for Nancy and goes quickly to the driver side. When the door closes, Nancy immediately says, “I know this probably sounds crazy, but I think there’s a dog fighting ring below The Hideout.”

Eddie sits back and takes in the information. He shrugs. “Okay. I can believe that.”

Nancy rambles on, “And I know there’s not great evidence and it’s a shot in the dark but-” She stops and looks at Eddie. “You believe me?”

“Yeah. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and the Creel stuff checked out, so why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“I gave you no evidence,” Nancy says as if she’s trying to talk herself out of her own theory.

Eddie shrugs again. “Then, give it to me.”

And she does. Telling him about a dog she saw chained in the backyard of someone’s house with marks consistent with an attack. How the only time the owner brings the dog inside is when he leaves his garage to drive to The Hideout, although he usually parks in the driveway which means he probably doesn't want people to see him putting the dog in his car. How he parks at the back of the bar in a fenced-off section that only a few other cars can go in. How she’s seen dogs in the other cars and even barking in the back that fades almost as if the noise starts traveling down. But this is the first time she’s gone inside.

“Well, that all sounds pretty damning, but you’re going to have to stop your investigation style.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, you stick out like a reporter, and your notebook was sticking out of your pocket in there. No one is going to talk to you, and if they think something is up, then you risk them relocating. So, I suggest we give you a metal makeover and you let me drive you here in my van because your shiny little car is just as suspicious.”

Nancy looks a bit pissed as she states, “I don’t need your help or protection.”

Eddie smiles. “I know you don’t, but I would be a great undercover buddy and excuse for your presence at The Hideout.”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him. “Why are you helping me?”

“One, you saved my life. Two, this sounds like an adventure,” Eddie says throwing his arms out with glee.

Nancy tries to suppress a smile before she sighs, “Fine, but if you blow the case…”

“I’m dead, and I never go on anymore adventures with you. Got it.” Eddie holds out his hand with a wide smile, and Nancy takes it, shaking it one time.

It feels like the start of a wonderful friendship.

-:-:-:-:-:-

“Wow,” Eddie says staring in awe at his work.

“I feel ridiculous, Eddie,” Nancy says, dark eyeliner smudged around her eyes, chains dangling over her tight black pants, and one of Eddie’s band t-shirts tucked into them.

“Well, you look absolutely metal,” Eddie says with a bright smile.

Nancy rolls her eyes but smiles.

Eddie thinks for a second before announcing, “We should stop by Family Video to show off your new look.”

Nancy scoffs.

“I always stop by on Wednesday! Please,” Eddie practically begs. He can’t wait to see the look on Steve’s face when he sees her. He wonders if Robin will be there too.

Nancy gets a little investigative twinkle in her eye. “You stop by every Wednesday, huh?”

Eddie eyes her. There’s no way she knows about his crush or the fact that he stops by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and sometimes Saturday and Sunday depending on if Steve's working the weekend shift. He tries to brush it off. “Yes, so I must stop by today. Right now actually, so you’re coming with, Wheeler. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him.

“Alright, we’re doing this the easy way. Got it,” Eddie says, voice cracking a bit with fear that only Nancy can evoke. Luckily, she follows him to his van and gets in willingly.

A quick trip over and a surprisingly pleasant conversation later, and Eddie is dramatically entering Family Video. His heart skips a beat when he spots Steve at the counter looking at him, and he nearly forgets the reason for his dramatics. Then, Nancy clears her throat, still hiding behind him, and Eddie makes eye contact with Robin who is raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Luckily, the store is empty when he dramatically announces, “Lady and gentleman, I present to you-”

“Ruth,” Nancy whispers behind him.

Eddie moves to the side and dramatically presents, “Ruth!”

Robin looks like she’s about to die on the spot, and Steve well… he looks a bit shocked.

Eddie hooks his arm around Nancy and walks her up to the counter. “What do you think Steve?" His heart tugs a bit as he notices the way Steve doesn't look at Nancy but instead focuses in on Eddie's arm draped around her shoulders. His jaw flexes and his nostrils flare as he looks at Eddie and nods. "She looks great like a female version of you." He tries to smile at him, but it comes off forced and almost scary.

Eddie's arm guiltily slides off Nancy and a blush settles over his cheeks. He feels weirdly embarrassed as he passes Nancy off to Robin who stutters while complimenting her.

Eddie takes the break to look at Steve who stares at a stack of tapes, fiddling with them as if to make it perfectly stacked. "Didn't realize you two were so close."

"We're working undercover on a case," Eddie says with a big smile, feeling almost giddy with excitement.

Nancy laughs, overhearing him. "We're investigating something," she corrects, but adds on, "An adventure." Her eyes light up and her eyebrows raise, and Eddie feels an intense platonic love for the woman.

He glances back at Steve who continues staring at his tapes. "Sounds fun," he says flatly.

Eddie feels another shoot of pain in his heart, almost stricken by guilt. He and Steve have been talking and relatively close for the past few weeks, but suddenly he gets weird when he becomes friends with Nancy?

It strikes Eddie suddenly. He's jealous.

Of course Steve would be jealous of Eddie parading around with his ex-girlfriend! It makes so much sense. He probably thinks he's corrupting her or something.

When Robin asks Nancy more about her investigation, Eddie can't help but lean over the counter and mumble, "You know that there's nothing happening between me and Nancy, right? She doesn't like me like that at all. Trust me. Don't have to worry about her being taken or whatever especially by me," Eddie rambles out, laughing at the end to add to how ridiculous the thought even is.

Steve looks at him confused. "That's not- that isn't..." He shakes his head and goes back to his stack. "I don't have feelings for Nance."

Eddie almost scoffs at that because hello. All signs point to jealousy. "So, you're not jealous?"

"No of you," Steve mutters still fidgeting with the tapes.

Eddie nods. Maybe he's just having a bad day or something. "Great, glad we cleared that up. But uh- are you okay?"

Steve nods and gives him that same tight smile. "Yup."

Yeah, he's definitely not fine, but he's not gonna push it. He glances over at Nancy to ask if she's ready to go, but then he sees the way she's leaning over the counter toward Robin, chatting animatedly about her evidence while Robin listens with heart eyes, practically drooling as she asks Nancy more questions. And what's even more interesting is the way Nancy gets flustered as Robin asks questions she hadn't thought of before and a blush slowly appears on Nancy's cheeks.

Eddie watches in awe as the two form more theories with their ideas bouncing off of each other as they slowly lean closer and closer until Nancy's arms are pressing against Robin's. Eddie softly smiles. If Nancy can tease him about his crush, he's going to certainly tease her about hers.

"Watch it there. You might start drooling if you stare too hard," Steve mutters to Eddie, hurt evident in his tone.

"Why would I be drooling?"

Steve rolls his eyes and loudly announces, "I'm going on my break." The two girls jump apart as he storms off to the back and slams the door behind him. Christ. What has him in such a bad mood?

"Damn, what did you say to him?" Robin asks with her arms crossed.

Eddie raises his hands. "I have no idea."

Nancy raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I have an idea, but come on. I think that was our cue to leave." She turns back to Robin and very regretfully says goodbye before Eddie follows her outside.

"Really, I have no idea-"

"He's jealous, Eddie," Nancy states with a small smile.

Eddie fidgets and says, "Well, he told me he wasn't after I explained you don't have feelings for me."

Nancy laughs, and Eddie stares at her. "What am I missing?"

"He's not jealous of you! He's jealous of me. He likes you, Eddie, and don't tell me I'm wrong because I know what he's like when he likes someone."

Eddie stops to think about the way Steve had hardly paid attention to Nancy and gave all his attitude to Eddie. But that can't be true, and he knows he can't say that to Nancy, so instead he stirs the pot. "And you like Robin, and she likes you back!"

Nancy's jaw drops and she splutters, "She doesn't- I don't- She... That is not what we're discussing right now!"

"Here's what I think," Eddie says, ignoring Nancy's attempt at changing the topic, "I think that you should go to The Hideout with Robin because you two clearly work well together, and she's a better investigator than I am. Plus, you two have the experience after the whole library and asylum thing."

Nancy takes a second to consider it and asks, "But what about you? I know you wanted the adventure."

Eddie's stomach flips a bit at how caring Nancy Wheeler is. "I think I've had enough adventure in the Upside Down to last a lifetime. Plus, I have a weak stomach, and I might throw up if I saw a dog fighting ring."

Nancy smiles and huffs a laugh. She looks down at her feet a moment before looking at Eddie with a determined look that scares him. "If I go with Robin, you'll take her work vest and cover the rest of her shift. Plus, I get your van so we have a ride."

"Deal," Eddie says handing her his keys without thinking.

"Have fun with Steve," Nancy says with a big smile running back into Family Video.

Shit, he had forgotten about that part.

Eddie races inside, but it's too late, Nancy is already talking to Robin about the plan. She hands over her vest to Eddie and squeals, "Tell Steve I'm not sorry at all."

The bell on the door rings as they both race out. Eddie sighs and makes his way to the back, hoping that Steve won't entirely lose his shit at the news.

He knocks on the door and gets a, "Leave me alone, Robin," in response.

"It's Eddie. Robin left with Nancy," Eddie says loudly through the door.

It quickly opens with Steve looking a bit frantic and confused. "She what?"

"She left to investigate with Nancy. I'm covering the rest of the shift."

Steve stares at him for a few seconds and sighs running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to make you lose your chances with Nance. That was a dick move, man. I can cover the rest of the shift on my own, and you can go with them."

Eddie crosses his arms. "I told you she doesn't have feelings for me."

"Yeah, but you have feelings for her clearly. You couldn't take your eyes off of her after that whole makeover of yours. Turned her into your perfect girl or whatever," Steve says angrily, and Eddie sees that same jealousy returning.

"Why are you getting so jealous?" Eddie asks outright, refusing to fully rely on Nancy's explanation.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests it on his hip. He looks at Eddie for a few seconds, eyes wandering all over his face before blurting out, "Because I like you! Okay! And I thought maybe you did too because of how often you come in and talk to me, but clearly, I was wrong." He brushes past Eddie and goes back to that damn stack of tapes, fidgeting with them again.

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "Steve?"

Steve tenses up, and Eddie continues, "You realize that I don't have feelings for Nancy because I have this huge overwhelming crush on you that I never thought would go anywhere, right?"

Steve turns around quickly. "Huh?"

Eddie slowly walks up to him. "Nancy tried to tell me that you were jealous of her, and I thought it wasn't possible. That there was no way that you could like me like that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming right now."

"Me too," Steve says with his eyes wide.

Eddie stops in front of him and cautiously smiles. "So, what now?"

Steve smiles back. "You know, I once heard that if you want to wake up from a dream, you just grab someone in the dream and kiss them."

"Really?"

"No," Steve says stepping closer. "But I think it's worth a try."

"Me too," Eddie replies as he leans in and does what he's been dreaming of doing for weeks now. Steve's lips are soft and warm and Eddie feels like he could get lost in the way they move against his.

Sadly, Steve breaks the kiss and says, "Huh, not dreaming, which also means that I need to temporarily put the closed sign on the door."

Eddie's eyebrows furrow, still confused as to why the kiss ended early. "Why?"

Steve jumps over the counter and flips the sign. "So we can properly kiss in the back without the fear of people coming in. I'm still on my break, you know, and I know exactly how I want to spend every minute of it," Steve says all matter-of-fact as he makes his way back to Eddie and tugs him into the breakroom.

God bless, Nancy Wheeler.

(Oh, and Nancy's investigation pans out exactly as she expected. She busts the ring pretty fast, and in her article, she thanks ((her, now, girlfriend)) Robin and even Eddie for their help. And trust me, the fruity four go on plenty of adventures together. Plus, Eddie and Nancy are very willing to give their partners their platonic soulmate time, so they can also hang out.)

[theemporium]

🐈‍⬛ i don’t have a specific request but I can’t get the phrase “don’t hex and drive” out of my head. maybe driver reader who’s witchy and starts cursing anyone who’s rude to her boys right before a race sksjsks

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What a bunch of little c—”

“Amor, it’s fine.”

You snapped your head around, your eyes narrowing at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. “No, Carlos. No, it’s not.” 

He sighed. “No, but I need you to calm down before you do something stupid.” 

You almost wanted to scoff at him. 

It was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that such a historical and iconic team could make Formula Two teams and lower leagues look like saints. It was ridiculous that you had to watch your boys suffer through mistakes and situations that weren’t their fault. It was ridiculous that just when you thought Ferrari couldn’t fuck up anymore, they always seemed to find a way.

And it was ridiculous the way your boys had been conditioned by their own team to deal with it. 

And maybe you should have been glad that such a fierce competitor was no longer such, but you couldn’t care less about that when it was the loves of your life who were suffering. You didn’t care if it made your races easier. You didn’t care when it was chipping away at the men you love and making them shells of who they were at the start of the reason. 

“They need to get a grip of themselves,” you said bluntly, your brows furrowed together as you glared at the prancing horse logo on the wall of Charles’ driver room.

“Yes, but Carlos is right,” Charles said as he reached his arm out to tug you closer, to pull you down on the couch that both boys were currently sitting on. He nuzzled you to sit between them, squished between both Ferrari drivers who just looked exhausted. “When you get angry, you don’t think clearly.”

“I’m thinking very clearly right now,” you retorted as you crossed your arms over your chest with a huff. “And what I’m thinking is that everyone on that pit wall can enjoy my foot up their—”

“And there she is,” Carlos murmured, though his tone was light-hearted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side. “We don’t need you fighting our battles, amor.” 

“I know,” you sighed deeply.

“We will sort this out with the team,” he added. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. 

“So no magic, okay?” 

You paused.

“Cherie,” Charles muttered as you continued to avoid both their stares. “No hexing and driving, remember?”

“But—”

“No magic. We can deal with the grid penalties on our own,” Charles told you in a softer voice. And you believed them. You knew what your boys were capable of, but your lack of faith resided with the team rather than them.

“How about a teeny hex?” You bargained as you looked between them. “Nothing big or serious, it will be harmless.”

Neither Charles nor Carlos looked convinced. 

“Something like…if they fuck up either of your races today, they will have clown noses stuck to their faces for a week?” You suggested, watching the way Charles had to press his lips together to withhold his giggles.

“Mi amor,” Carlos scolded softly but you could see the smile on his face.

“Please?” You murmured, giving the boys your puppy dog eyes that you knew they wouldn’t be able to resist. “If you won’t let me spell the cars with good luck, at least let me do this.” 

The boys shared a look with each other, a few beats of silence passing between you three before Carlos spoke.

“Fine—”

“Yes!” You grinned.

“But nothing more,” Carlos quickly added, shooting you a look. “And this is the only time.” 

“Promise,” you said with a smile on your face that didn’t reassure Carlos in the slightest, but he knew there was no stopping you when it came to defending them. 

“Thank you for caring,” he added in a softer voice.

“Always,” you said as you reached your hands out, taking each of their hands in your own as you intertwined your fingers. “I’ll always defend you both. After all, I like seeing you on the podium with me.”

“In second and third,” Charles commented with a snort.

You shrugged. “I like the view from up on the top spot, you can’t blame me.” 

“If you wanted to look down at us, you just had to ask for us to get on our knees, mi amor,” Carlos commented, grinning a little himself when he watched a blush spread across your cheeks. 

“What was that, Christian? You need me for data review? Okay!” You announced suddenly as you scrambled to get up from the couch, your body flushing at his words and the boys laughing as they tried to pull you back down.

.

[pucksandpower]

I’m sorry but Formula 1 media drives me insane!

If Max didn’t DNF in Australia, he would be leading the World Championship. If Charles had functioning brakes in Bahrain, he would be leading the World Championship.

See how these hypotheticals work?

The narratives surrounded the Australian Grand Prix are slowly making me lose my mind. Did Carlos have a commendable drive? Yes. Was his win due to luck more than anything (simply because no one is getting ahead of Max if he doesn’t have mechanical issues)? Yes!

Carlos won because, for the first time in nearly two seasons, Max had a DNF. It’s really that simple.

The difference in how media treats Carlos versus Charles simply does not make any sense to me. A lucky P1 for Carlos and fans and pundits alike are saying that he is better than Charles and that Ferrari is keeping the wrong driver.

I can’t deal with it anymore!

How are these same people content to pretend that Charles didn’t have major brake issues in Bahrain that rendered his car all but undriveable? That him being able to finish P4 was a miracle in itself. How do seven straight front row starts get ignored or dismissed as unimportant because Charles didn’t manage to convert them to wins … when the Australian Grand Prix clearly showed the importance of starting the position?

The only difference, as luck would have it, the one race that Max has mechanical issues is also the one race that Charles had issues with the car in qualifying and had to start on the second row instead.

Sometimes I wish that Charles had a national media to defend him and have his back like all the other drivers do because the double standards that he constantly has to deal with are making me lose my mind.

It truly feels like some of these people don’t bother to actually watch races or take context into consideration and just go purely off of the standings.

Charles Leclerc deserves better.

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Sergio Checo Perez with wife reader. He was feeling down as his performance hasn't been improving and everyone seems to be criticizing him. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

A wife’s fierce protection

Word count: 792

Pairing: Sergio Perez x wife!reader

Summary: In the face of relentless criticism from the media and team principal Christian Horner, Sergio Pérez’s wife fiercely defends him, demanding better support and car improvements

________________________________________________________

Sergio "Checo" Pérez slumped in a chair as the team meeting stretched on. His recent performances had been the subject of intense scrutiny both within the team and in the media. Headlines were harsh: “Pérez Under Pressure,” “Checo’s Decline,” and “Red Bull’s Weak Link.” The constant criticism was wearing him down.

Christian Horner, Red Bull Racing’s team principal, continued to review Sergio’s performance metrics, his comments increasingly sharp. “The media is relentless,” Horner said, “but it’s not just them. Your times aren’t improving, and we need to address this seriously. It’s affecting our standings, and you’re not meeting expectations.”

Y/N, who had been quietly seething beside Sergio, couldn’t hold back any longer. The frustration she felt about the situation had been building for days, exacerbated by the negative media coverage and constant criticism of her husband.

“Christian, this is enough,” she said, standing abruptly. “You can’t keep talking about my husband like he’s the problem here.”

The room went silent. Max Verstappen, sitting across from them, was struggling to stifle a smirk, clearly finding the situation amusing. Y/N’s fierce expression quickly turned his smirk into a look of surprise.

“If you think tearing Sergio down is going to fix anything, you’re wrong,” Y/N continued, her voice unwavering. “You’re not just dealing with a driver here; you’re dealing with a person who’s been given a car that’s clearly not performing as it should. It’s not all on him. The car needs improvements, and the constant negativity isn’t helping anyone.”

Horner, taken aback, tried to maintain his composure. “Y/N, I understand you’re frustrated, but we have to address the issues with his performance. Constructive criticism is part of the process.”

“Constructive?” Y/N shot back. “This isn’t constructive. It’s demoralizing. If you want to see improvement, then start by addressing the issues with the car. If the car isn’t right, no driver will perform well. Sergio needs support, not more criticism.”

Sergio, who had been watching in stunned silence, reached out to gently touch her arm, speaking softly in Spanish. “Cariño, por favor, no hace falta. No quiero que esto se vuelva peor para ti.” ("Darling, please, it's not necessary. I don't want this to get worse for you.")

But Y/N shook her head, her eyes still locked on Horner. “No, Sergio. It’s already bad enough. I’m not going to let them treat you like this anymore. If they think they can keep criticizing you without consequence, they’re in for a rude awakening.”

Max, who had been listening intently, finally spoke up. “Actually, Y/N, I agree with you. The car hasn’t been up to standard, and it’s not just Sergio who’s been struggling with it. I’ve had my issues too. We should definitely be looking at improvements. The car needs more than just tweaks; it needs significant upgrades.”

Horner, clearly caught off guard, nodded. “I see your point. We’ll have to consider how we can improve the car and support both drivers better. But we still need to address the performance issues on an individual level.”

Y/N turned back to Horner, her gaze unyielding. “And that starts with respecting Sergio and understanding that he’s working with what he’s given. If you want him to perform better, give him a better car and a better environment. And if you can’t provide that, then stop blaming him.”

As the meeting ended, the room remained in stunned silence. Y/N took Sergio’s hand, and they walked out together, leaving a tense atmosphere behind them.

Later, in the quiet of their hotel room, Sergio pulled Y/N close, his eyes filled with gratitude and admiration. “Estás loca,” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Pero fue lo más sexy que he visto en mi vida. Cómo me defendiste… nadie ha hecho eso por mí.” (“You’re crazy, but that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The way you defended me… no one’s ever done that for me.”)

Y/N smiled up at him, her earlier anger now replaced with a warm glow. “I just couldn’t stand to see them treat you like that. You’re incredible, Sergio. And if they can’t see it, then to hell with them.”

Sergio chuckled, pulling her closer. “Te amo, ¿sabes? No sé qué haría sin ti.” (“I love you, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”)

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she replied, her arms wrapped around him. “I’ll always be by your side, fighting for you. And if anyone tries to bring you down again, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

“You make me feel invincible,” Sergio murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead. “With you by my side, I know I can face anything.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “And that’s exactly how I want you to feel, always.”

[thebdc]

I can’t believe I had a person tell me Red Bull isn’t a toxic environment and that drivers only struggle because “it’s the car” and when I say the issue wasn’t about the car, it has to do with Helmut. They defend him and say he’s brought talent into the sport and I have no evidence that helmut is racist.

At that point you don’t even reply back anymore, because you’ll end up having to give someone a lesson on racism and how to recognize it like they’re in kindergarten but the difference is, they’ll refuse to listen. It’s simply a waste of my time interacting with a troll and it blows my mind that there are people who still ride on helmut’s meat, like that thing is long gone past its time and he needs to go either out of the sport or out entirely.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

give lando a chance.

god knows i’m not his number one defender or anything, but I do think a lot of the criticism he’s received - especially after spain - is unnecessary.

he seems to be the only one bringing the fight to max at the moment. yes, he absolutely did get a bad start last sunday, and him trying to squeeze max off track ruined both of their starts. but, he won’t do it again. we live and we learn, and he’s pretty good at learning from his on track mistakes for the most part.

I just think people have got to give him a minute. max has 4 more years of experience in f1 than lando, and is a 3x WDC - of course lando isn’t going to be beating him all the time all of a sudden.

lando has also never really been in the position to beat max before. the mclaren has never been a reliable enough car. yes, carlos won in one, and so did daniel, but they were kind of one offs. the mclaren isn’t usually fighting at the very front. for the first half of last season it was a midfield car at best. this is the first time that lando has had a car that can fight for the win every week, and that does take some getting used to. it took max some getting used to in the red bull all those years ago - that wasn’t always a reliable car. he had so many dnfs and issues in his early seasons.

and that’s not even taking mclaren and their strategy into account. they, as a team, haven’t been fighting at the front for a long time. red bull are used to it, but mclaren need to adjust, and quickly. their strategy has let lando down a few times recently, so it’s not solely on him as a driver.

he’s p2 in the championship for the first time in his career. he’s the only driver to have scored points at every round this season. people are acting like he isn’t worthy of any praise whatsoever. yeah, he’s still making mistakes, but there’s only really one man on that track that doesn’t make any mistakes at all. and he’s the world champion.

just give him a chance, I reckon. he’ll adjust. we’ve seen that he has already - he’s not satisfied with p2 anymore. he wants to be winning. which is a huge change from last year, when he quite happily settled for p2 because he felt like he didn’t have a chance against max.

this is already the best season of his career. yes, there absolutely are criticisms of him that are valid, but you can’t deny that he’s one hell of a driver at the moment. mistakes and all.

I didn’t mean for this to turn into an essay, but there we go. there’s my two cents. <3

[angelicyouth]

Lavender ; Chapter 3

⇢ pairing: stan marsh x broflovski!reader

⇢ genre: summer romance ; soulmates AU

⇢ synopsis: ❝You looked forward to attending the sleepy, beachside town's famous carnival every summer. But not because you got to see your cousins or your friends after a year of not seeing them—it was to see the boy behind the ring toss booth.❞

⇢ warning: sexual content

⇢ [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

// SEVENTEEN:

Slipping through the familiar neon-colored yellow of the ribbon barricading the boardwalk, your hands begin to fiddle with the jewelry adorning your fingers in anxiety. When you see the ring toss booth a few feet away, you can’t help but to get frozen in place from the fear that Stan won't remember you—again.

Lifting his head up at the sounds of your approaching footsteps, the taller teen sees your foreignly meek form as he squints his eyes to clearly make out your face from the distance. “... Y/N?”

As if you got hit by a freight train, all of the air in your chest and the suffocating anxiety suddenly gets rushed out of your body as your eyes begin to embarrassingly well at the corners. You can’t stop the wobbly grin that threatens to overtake your whole entire face because after all those years, he finally remembers you.

“Stan!” You yell in excitement as you rapidly close the remaining space left between the two of you with a delighted skip to your step, your arm swinging wildly in an exaggerated wave.  

“God, shut the hell up. It’s too early for you to be so damn loud—like those fucking girls who have to gossip before homeroom starts even though they just saw eachother yesterday.” The bleached blonde moans before he notices the strange look in your eyes, an eyebrow quirking up in wordless question.

You belatedly notice that he’s waiting for you to explain before you fumble out a reply. “Oh, uh. I’m just confused because you’re two years older than me.” 

His face contorts into thinly veiled disgust at your words. “What…? Fuck, are you 15?”

“Huh? What the fuck are you talking about? You told me that you were 17 two years ago so you shouldn’t be in high school anymore. You mentioned homeroom so I was confused. We’re not supposed to be the same age, dumbass.” Quickly defending your words, you cross your arms over your chest in accusation.

He scoffs, “Are you fucking with me? Because I don’t remember ever telling you that.” 

“Not like that means much because you never remember shit anyways, but you did. Unless I was right and you actually are a dumbfuck who constantly fails high school and gets held back a grade.” Rolling your eyes, you place a hand on your cocked hip as you await his next response.

Sending you a heated glare, his hands reach into the pockets of his denim jeans before he grabs his wallet and pulls out his school ID. Holding onto the proffered piece of plastic, you internally wonder at how someone can look so good in a yearbook photo as your fingers brush over the obnoxious green decorating the borders of the scratched up card.

Stanley Marsh (Junior) is neatly printed in black ink at the left hand bottom, right underneath his picture.

You wonder if you remembered wrong as you hand the object back, taking note of the teen’s last name. Heaving your body on top of the hard counter, your feet leisurely begin to dangle back and forth as you then begin to think about how his driver license photo must look.

“That’s it?” He asks in exasperation but all he gets is an irritated glance before he quickly dismisses the previous interaction and continues, “Whatever. Come put some work in since it’s the reason you always come early—the carnival is about to open soon.”

“Yeah fucking right, I’m not hauling ass for you again.” Obnoxiously snorting your distaste, your hands pull out a lollipop from the depths of your skirt’s pocket before you stick the crystal sweetness into your mouth.

“Then why the hell are you here? To make my life even more miserable?” A larger hand appears in front of your face, your eyes rolling as you harshly slap a new lollipop onto the palm of his hand as hard as you can.

“I already told you last year. Or did you forget your hearing aids when I did, old man? I’m not into ring toss or whatever—I’m into you.” You smirk around your sucker, your palm getting placed onto the space between the two of you in order to lean your body closer to his.

“I know that, idiot.” He averts his eyes as he brings a hand up to softly push at your face, walking away to grab his employee lanyard that held his keys.

Quickly sitting up straight in surprise, your eyes widen just a bit. “Wh—You do?”

Sending you a smug look, the taller teen spares you a quick glance at your surprised reaction before rolling his eyes. “It’s pretty fucking obvious with the way you look at me, dumbass.” 

You pause for a moment because you didn’t think you were that obvious (but then your mind brings up your bold actions throughout the years and yeah, nevermind). “... And how do I look?”

His eyes leisurely trail up your body and back down before his lips settle into a smirk around his lollipop, the teen leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Like you want to help me set up this booth—free from charge.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

After having your usual yet still-fun day at the carnival with the guys, you stop by Stan’s booth to help him clean up when people begin to leave and the once blinding lights begin to dim. Watching as he closes the stand, a sudden idea pops up into your head.

“Hey.”

Granting you a quick glance, the other teen hums to let you know that he was listening as he busies himself with closing the booth. Taking that as your cue to continue, you speak up again. “Do you want to sneak off to the beach?”

Leaning his back against the metal structure of the now properly closed stand, he crosses his arms over his chest as he sends you an amused look. “You mean the same beach that’s closed at this time of the night?"

Never stopped you before, you think to yourself. 

“Sure, whatever.” He finally decides as you hide your excitement at the notion of finally hanging out with Stan at a different location than the carnival, a skip to your step as you begin to lead the way.

Sitting side by side on the warm sand, you both are silent as you appreciate the brightly twinkling stars shining overhead your bodies and the perfect breeze to the night. The smile that appeared when Stan accepted your invitation has stayed permanently etched onto your face, accompanying you to your journey to the beach and currently present as you take in your surroundings.

“Let’s swim.” The deep baritone of Stan’s voice interrupts your happy humming, causing your fingers to still to a stop as they comb through the soft sand.

“Swim?”

“Yeah, it’s where you get into the water and move your legs like—”

“Oh, fuck off! I know what it is, asshole!” Mustering up all of your strength to have him topple over, you shove at the bleached blonde’s arm but he barely budges from his seated position.

“Then why’d you ask?” He snickers in a teasingly condescending tone, getting up to dust the remnants of sand stuck on his hands before he steps closer to the water.

“Ah, I see. Here we are, on a spontaneous trip to the beach with no swimsuits prepared so what do we do? We strip down. Jeez, Marsh. If you wanted to see my banging body so badly then you only had to ask nicely.” You tease back, watching as the ocean gently laps at the teen’s feet as if coaxing him into their cool embrace.

“I’m offended you think so lowly of me to assume that I’d need to make up an excuse to see any girl’s body.” Stan cockily says, your words lost on your throat at his attractive confidence.

You’re quiet as you watch him slowly lift his shirt over his head, the taller teen granting you a handsome smile as he makes a show of the action before throwing the article of clothing at your face.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“You look like a fucking idiot.” Stan says as he watches you float on your back like a starfish, the waves of the ocean softly rocking you back and forth in just your bra and panties.

“Says you—I’m only here to make you feel less self conscious of the fact that you’re down to your boxers in the middle of the ocean, loser. And you can say that I look like an idiot all you want but at least I’m not an actual dumbass like you!”

Lukewarm water splashes against your face in retribution for your words, the action prompting you to open your eyes in anger as the bleached blonde loudly laughs. “Fuck you! You’re the one who fucking invited me here! How do I know that you don’t have any ulterior motives to taint my precious chastity?” 

“Chastity my fucking ass! You’re the one who made an innocent girl like me strip down for your own pleasure! And you’re the one who looks shady as hell making me swim with your soaked rat looking ass!” You yell, bringing a hand up to attack back before you both eventually call a truce to avoid one of you drowning.

(You definitely won that though because Stan begins to cough up salt water like a little bitch).

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I love how the stars look, they never look like this out in the city. I wish there was some at home but it’s okay—it makes nights like these more special.” Your voice is soft as you reminisce out loud, your head angled upward to watch the moon come out and say hello.

You don’t hear a response so you shift your eyes back to your companion, only to find him already staring back at you. He doesn’t look away when you make eye contact, his unfaltering eyes almost black in the darkness of the night and making it hard to decipher his current expression.

“Hey.” Your voice is quiet between the space between the two of you, your eyes leisurely watching as droplets of salt water race down the smooth expanse of skin on Stan’s face before they gently curve around the edges of his slicked lips.

“Hm?” His voice is deep, a lazy drawl as your gaze slowly follows the stray strands of hair that escapes the rest of his slicked-back locks of bleached blonde.

“You know how I said that I’m into you..?” Your words are almost at a whisper now—as if scared to break this intimate bubble surrounding the two of you and the charged air quickly filling up that space.

As if scared to have the stars and moon as witnesses to your words.

He doesn’t say anything as his eyes follow the soft pink of your tongue as it quickly darts out to wet your lower lip. “Well I was wondering if you…”

You don’t finish your sentence, leaving it to trail off into the night before the taller teen decides to take it upon himself to finish what you were saying. “Felt the same way?”

It’s silent as you don’t confirm whether or not he was correct in his guess, your eyes finally taking reprieve of the attractive sight in front of you to shyly look off to the side. Your teeth worries themselves into your lips, wondering if you made a mistake in bringing this up when rejection would’ve made you awkwardly leave the ocean in just your bra and panties.

The deep baritone of his voice leans towards suggestive, the corner of his lips lifting upwards into a provocative smirk. “Want to figure it out?”

The familiar lilt of Stan’s words fills the space, causing you to look back up as the moonlight perfectly hits the sharp angles that make up the visage of the handsome boy in front of you. You’re not sure if it’s because you only see him a few days every year but you don���t think you’ll ever get tired of the hypnotizing sight that makes up Stan Marsh—the way he finally looks at you and only you with that special attention.

You slowly nod as if in a trance, the teen lifting his larger hand out of the water to extend his arms towards your body with his palm facing up. “Then why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Holy fucking shit, you think to yourself as your hand mirrors his to gently interlock your fingers together.

Once joined, Stan pulls to bring your body closer to his, his unoccupied hand finding purchase at the back of your submerged thigh once you’re chest to chest. Guiding your limb, he brings your leg up to wrap around his waist to which you bring your other one up to completely lock around his form.

He lifts your interlocked fingers up so that it’s in the space beside his pierced ear, letting go of your hand so that you can wrap both your arms around his broad shoulders. Lightly skimming his fingers against the bare expanse of your underwater waist, he takes his time in bringing his own hands around your hips as you both keep your eyes heatedly locked on one another.

“Do you have your answer yet?” He murmurs, your faces so close to one another that you can feel his plump lips skim against your own after his mouth sounds out every word.

“Not yet.” You mumble back, your eyes half-lidded as your breaths begin to mingle with one another and his hands tighten ever so slightly over your soft skin.

Stan hums before your eyes slowly flutter shut when he finally closes the space between the two of you, the taste of your kiss sweet despite the lingering saltiness of the ocean water. All you can feel is the same connection that forces your body to follow the same path to the ring toss booth every year, as if your mouths were two magnets leading its owners to their rightful places in the universe.

It was like suddenly, oxygen wasn’t so high on the list of basic needs anymore because Stan Marsh suddenly pushed his way to the top. Breathing was only a technicality that forced your slicked lips to part every so often in gasped airs before they hurriedly pressed back against each other again.

“Let me make it up to you—for all the times that I forgot.” The deep baritone of his voice beautifully mixes in with his lust-induced huskiness, the vibration inflicted in his chest causing a cacophony of goosebumps to arise as the teen doesn’t give you any time to breath before his lips begin to lightly skim against the wet expanse of your neck.

His warm tongue follows the slight suction of his mouth before a high-pitched moan gets forced out of your throat, his teeth creating a path of greedy imprints against the vivid reds and deep purples possessively marking you as his. You sob when in contrast, his tongue begins to delicately lap at the areas of abuse as his arms slightly tighten their hold around your waist.

“Those are something to remember me by.” Stan presses his heated words against the dips of your collarbone, a mantra of praises being pressed against your skin as if they were prayers to his devoted worship towards your body that is his temple.

And of course, you think as you always do: I would never forget you.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“You always watch me play. You do it this time.” Stan orders you, the both of you taking desperate reprieve from the harsh sun rays caressing the boardwalk as you both sit side by side on the counter and underneath the shade provided by the hanging prizes.

“Whatever.” You lazily mutter, rolling your eyes at the command as you reach out for the worn out rings without ever leaving your seated position.

This goes on for a while—you leisurely throwing the colorful objects as they hit the glass necks of the bottles with a satisfying sound. But it isn’t until you get to the color yellow when Stan shifts impossibly closer to your body, an expressionless look on his face when you spare him a glance before the ring meets all of the other perfectly stacked ones.

Green is next but before you can bring your arm back to gain momentum for a throw, Stan’s large hand finds purchase on the exposed skin of your inner thigh from underneath the soft material of your skirt. Your throat shifts to swallow when his thumb begins to massage soothing circles into your warm skin, your attention waning but nonetheless making the next throw. 

Grabbing blue, the bleached blonde leans his face against the heated solace of your neck as his plump lips begin to lightly skim against the expanse of your skin. The arm closest to your body wraps around your waist to bring your body even closer to his, light kisses getting pressed against his previous marks from last night as his other hand tightens their possessive hold over your thigh.

Your voice is breathless, dangerously waning as you weakly admonish the teen. “Stan.”

“Play the game.” His voice is ruthlessly firm in authority, demanding you of your obedience and leaving no room for protests.

You flick your wrist and somehow the ring makes its mark—you’re not sure how as it dangerously wobbles before deciding to barely settle. Blindly reaching out for dark purple, you bite your lower lip to deter any noise from leaking out of your slightly parted lips after a harsh suck from Stan.

The taller teen gently grabs your unoccupied hand and places it on his own denim-clad thigh. “What’s wrong? You only need one hand to throw, right?”

Your chest quickly heaves up and down from arousal as your head slowly nods off in a daze to his redundant question, your eyes dangerously fluttering shut at the heavenly sensations inflicted by the bleached blonde. “Come on, baby—play. I’m not going to tell you again. If you win, you’ll get a prize and I know you’ll like it.”

Hands shaking, your grip is feeble before you miss, causing Stan to immediately let go of his tight hold over your body to stand up and collect all of the rings. “Wha—!”

“Hm? Doesn’t feel so great to have your concentration ruined, right?” The taller teen’s voice is nonchalant as he gathers the colorful objects into a neat pile, taking his time in arranging the objects and not sparing you a glance.

Ah, the incident from last year…

How fucking petty.

“Wait! Don’t I still get a prize though?” There’s an indignant pout on your face as you watch him settle down onto his stool away from your seated position, the chair tucked all the way at the back of the booth.

He takes his time as he hums, his face thoughtful at your words as he appraises your form before he extends a hand out towards you. “Well you only need seven to win. Come here.” 

You don’t need to be told twice before you clumsily rush over to his spot, your body automatically bringing itself to straddle the taller teen and looping your arms around his shoulders. “Here? It’s a little messy.”

Warily eyeing the cobwebs and clutter of boxes hidden from the wandering eyes of patrons, a hand shoots out to grasp at your chin to guide your face towards his. “Who gives a shit? We’re going to get messy anyways.”

Stan builds the pace slow—tantalizingly slow with featherlight touches that are almost nonexistent against the exposed skin of your waist and the hardened nub of your nipples. It’s incredibly slow, agonizingly in its motions that he has you violently aching and whimpering in no time as he caresses every dip and curve of your body with a pressure that just isn’t enough.

“Stop playing with me!” You impatiently wail out loud, two long fingers getting roughly shoved into the wet cavern of your mouth at your words before Stan’s dark eyes peer out from behind your shoulder to look at the people of the boardwalk.

Finding that the coast was clear, he resumes his slicked ministrations of having his heated tongue languidly brush against the sensitive column of your neck as he growls in an all-knowing voice. “But you’re just so endearing when you’re desperate.”

“Please.” You beg around his fingers, his eyes hooded as he takes in what a wrecked sight you already are before he brings his other hand below your body to lightly ghost over your clothed core.

Feeling the steadily leaking arousal against the thin barrier, he roughly shoves the soft material aside as his ring-adorned fingers begin to gather your slick. Stan’s eyes darkly hold yours, an embarrassed blush prettily painting your heated cheeks at the attention before he uses the fingers inside of your mouth to force your face back towards his.

“Don’t.” He snarls in a commanding tone, your thighs tightly clenching together at the authority he holds over your obedient body as you force yourself to make eye contact with him. It’s husky and low when he laughs, “Good girl. Where do you think you’re going, beautiful?”

You whine at the two fingers he now has inside of you, his eyes greedily watching as they pump in and out of your core. “You’re already so fucking wet. Did I do this to you? Hm?”

Your head clumsily nods in ragged motions, your body bouncing on his palm in time to his finger’s thrusts as you can hear the cocky smirk to his words. Wailing out loud when he leaves you empty, Stan curses underneath his breath when strings of slick connect the two of you together.

“Look at how messy my pretty girl gets for me. Come on—ask for it, baby.” The taller teen commands when he brings his strained member free from the confines of his pants, his hands wrapping around his girth to pump himself to full attention.

“Please, Stan. Fill me up—I’ve been good.” You sob, your pitch high and whiny as he grants you an affectionate kiss against the perspiration beading at your hairline.

“Yeah, and you sound good too. Look good, taste good—fuck. How fucking lucky am I?” His voice is breathy as he rubs his leaking tip against your folds, your face buried against his sweat-sheened neck in an effort to hide your moans.

Before you can beg him once more, your head gets thrown back as he roughly fills you up. Your mouth is open in a wordless scream as you tightly clench around him, Stan watching the point where you’re both connected as you greedily take him in with every harsh thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hands firmly grip your waist, forcing your body down against his lap as he fills you up when you both simultaneously climax. You can feel him painting your slick walls, Stan orchestrating a pretty whimper out of your slightly parted lips before you tiredly collapse into his warm embrace.

The floodgates that Stan had opened so long ago—you were now drowning.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Kyle!” You throw your whole body into the awaiting arms of your older cousin, the taller redhead a well-welcomed surprise to get home to after a night out at the carnival.

Giggling in delight as the curly-haired boy wraps his arms around your waist, the older of the two begins to spin you around. “How’ve you been, beautiful?”

“Terrible without you! You’re never here when I visit anymore!” You childishly whine, a pout on your face as you bring your hands up into fists as you teasingly hit his shoulder after every word.

He stops before he gives you a sad smile, an almost guilty look in his eyes as he plants a gentle kiss against the skin of your forehead. “I’m sorry, N/N.” 

Humming in satisfaction at the apparent regret of your cousin and his undivided attention, you happily grin up at him. “Well since you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence—we have to hang out!”

Kyle endearingly laughs and it’s a sound you hadn’t noticed that you’ve grown to miss so much. “Sure, sure. Just let me put my stuff away and get changed—we can do whatever you want to do afterwards.”

You ignore when your cousin worriedly yells after you to be careful when you slide down the railings of the stairs, nothing able to deter your bright mood as you giggle.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Your sweet tooth has made an appearance so you decide on baking cookies to eat with some ice cream, the both of you humming along to the faint music playing in the kitchen and dancing along together from time to time. You were currently telling him all about the adventures that you and your friends got up to during your visits when the topic naturally transitioned to the teen that wasn’t quite your friend but still resided in the sleepy beachside town nonetheless.

“Wait. Stan..? Stan who, N/N?” 

You’re distracted as you mix the ingredients together in a bowl, your hands working hard to ensure that everything is seamlessly blended together. “Huh? Oh, uh. It’s Marsh, Ky. Stan Marsh.”

It’s quiet for a moment as your cousin stares at you in wordless shock before he roughly grabs the bowl away from your grip, the sudden action catching you by surprise. “Hey!”

There’s a pout on your face until your eyes land on the serious expression of the redhead standing next to you, his voice low yet very firm. “Y/N.”

You don’t say anything as the skin between your eyebrows begin to furrow together, your body turning to lean against the kitchen counter to grant him your undivided attention. Quickly scanning Kyle’s face, you notice the suddenly ghostly pallor to his skin as his emerald eyes dart off to the side in avoidance.

“Stan Marsh committed suicide four years ago—on the first night of the carnival. It was the day you went home when you were still 13.”

You can’t breathe.

Your chest furiously works hard to heave up and down as your hands begin to dangerously tremble in confusion because this just couldn’t be right.

A laugh sounds horribly wrong as it tumbles out of your mouth, devoid of any amusement and disbelieving.  “... What? Shut up, Ky. I saw him like an hour ago at the stand. I’ve seen him every single summer since I was 13.”

He looks confused for a second before his empty eyes look just a tad brighter in a flicker of recognition. “The ring toss stand..? Nobody uses that booth anymore, N/N. And it doesn’t feel right to take it down either because it was the last place that Stan was at before he…”

No.

No, no, no.

You push your cousin out of the way as you stumble up towards the staircase, your hands desperately grabbing onto the railing to support your violently shaking body. Kyle quickly follows after you, panic causing his voice to raise up in pitch. “Where are you going?!”

The wooden door slams open against the wall, the exposed skin of your knees screaming at you as you harshly drop your weight onto the carpet underneath your feet. Your eyes are frantic in your search, rapidly skimming along the multicolored spines of the books in front of you.

Yanking one out, you curse at yourself as a few books follow and loudly fall to the floor. Your hands fumble to flip past the pages within the object as a thin film of tears begins to quickly develop over your eyes, blurring your vision before you bring a tight fist up to scrub away the salty wetness. 

Your eyes follow the black printed words of Stan Marsh, underneath the same exact school picture that he had shown you yesterday on his ID. White dots begin to dance along the peripherals of your vision as your head becomes increasingly light, a sob getting caught in your throat before you throw the yearbook onto the floor.

Turning around, you spot your cousin worriedly watching you from underneath the doorframe of his bedroom.

“Show me.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Stan, Kyle, Eric Cartman, & Kenny were here! :D

Written in graffiti against the wooden panels of the abandoned stand is the small message of remembrance made by your cousin and his friends. You feel completely hollow as you look upon the boarded-up booth, dusty and covered in spiderwebs.

“So this is why you go on a roadtrip at this time of the year…” Your voice comes out into a whisper, Kyle tightening his grip around your intertwined fingers as you stand at the eerily quiet boardwalk.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Rubbed raw from your vocal anguish, your throat burns as your voice cracks after your whispered words.

Wh—I didn’t know they still had that, Clyde had said the year after you came back.

The both of you have twin sets of tears streaming down your faces, soft sniffles being heard from your two shuddering bodies. “I didn’t even know you knew him, N/N.”

Bringing up your unoccupied hand to harshly rub at your already swollen eyes, you unabashedly wail out loud. “Knew him? I fucking love him, Ky. I never even got to tell him.” 

At the sight of his broken younger cousin, Kyle tugs onto your joined hands to bring your vulnerable form against his erratically heaving chest. It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds being made were from the crashing waves from down below and the warm summer air traveling past the boardwalk.

“You said you still see him, right?” You nod against his chest, your face moving against the steadily growing damp spot you’re making into the soft material of his shirt.

“Tomorrow’s the last day of the carnival. I’m not sure why he’s never shown up for me or any of my friends but maybe he’ll be there for you again.” Escaping the safe solace of the elder’s embrace, your eyes catch sight of the soft yet melancholy smile curving along your cousin’s face.

“Oh, Ky. I’m so sorry.” You never thought about how hurt your cousin would be at the fact that his best friend only appeared in front of a girl who never really knew his friend when he was still alive. 

You didn’t understand why either.

He pulls you back against his body, your arms tightening around one another once more. “It’s okay, N/N. I’m happy that two of my favorite people got to meet.”

“Where the fuck have you been you fucking asshole!” You both jolt at the suddenly loud voice interrupting the period of comfortable silence, the both of you turning to see a blonde with an orange parka tied to his waist and a larger brunette.

“Woah! Who’s the hottie?” A vivid shade of red quickly adorns your cheeks at the sudden compliment, an obnoxious whistle accompanying the unknown stranger's words.

“Fuck off, Ken. This is my cousin—my baby cousin.” Kyle rolls his eyes, his arms turning your body around to shield you from the wandering eyes of his friend.

“That fucking crybaby?” The brunette just condescendingly snorts, his eyes scanning along your body—not in appreciation like his companion but in vivid disgust.

“She knows Stan. She’s been seeing him every year during the summer since she was 13 and she just saw him earlier today.” Your cousin suddenly blurts out, all of your eyes widening at the random bit of information. 

“Ha-ha. Very fucking funny, Kyle. I’m not high yet so don’t play with me.” The blonde has a laid-back smile on his face, his arms stretching high towards the sky before he crosses them behind his head.

“It’s true! I didn’t even know he died until like half an hour ago.” This time it’s your turn to impulsively yell out a response, your body automatically coming into the defense of your beloved older cousin.

It’s quiet for a tense second as the two boys in front of you take the moment to study your face, their eyes thoughtful and calculating before the brunette opens his mouth. “What a fucking whack job! I guess it runs in the family, huh?”

Both you and Kyle furrow your brows in anger before the blonde harshly elbows the larger teen, his face serious for the first time since you’ve met him. “Prove it then—tell us something that some irrelevant rando wouldn’t know.”

You look towards your cousin before he gives you an encouraging nod, your hand shooting out to grab his own. You pause for a second because God, you could talk about Stan Marsh for hours.

“He…He got diagnosed with depression at a young age and has an ongoing problem with alcohol abuse, just like his dad. Stan starts his day with a shot and he hides his secret alcohol stash in the third drawer of his bedroom dresser, underneath all of his porn.” Your voice is quiet as you repeat the information because fuck. 

Everything he has said or done were all giant red flags that your adolescent mind consistently overlooked. You can’t help but to think that you could’ve saved him if you looked harder, if you knew better. 

If you were older like him.

“He bleaches his hair since he thinks it looks cool but mostly because he doesn’t want to look anything like his father. His strained relationship with his dad is also the reason why he got this job at the carnival—it was a big fuck you to him because he kept nagging at Stan to get a summer job. So, he figured that it’d spite him to get one that only required him to work three days a year.” The other three part their lips at your onslaught of words yet your mouth doesn’t stop as you shakily continue.

“He wears silver jewelry with three rings on his left hand and four on his right—he doesn’t realize he fiddles with them when he’s anxious. Sometimes, he suffers from insomnia so he’ll sneak past the locked fence at the beach to sit underneath the moon until the morning.” You don’t realize that your cheeks have become sticky with warm tears again, much similar to the faces of the other three as they carefully listen to your words.  

“Stan talks to it sometimes and the lavender that surrounds the area of that one hidden spot at the beach is so fragrant that the smell of it helps lull him to sleep.” Bringing a hand up to clumsily scrub at your sore and already red eyes, your voice terribly cracks in the middle of your sentences but yet no one says a thing.

“… He was so tired.” You sob, “The universe never seemed to let him rest. But even then, his eyes were always so comfortingly soft around the edges whenever he found something funny. It was like all of the hues of every wonderful ocean and breathtaking sky found peace in his eyes, living in harmony for the sake of this beautiful boy.”

Escalating further, your cries turn into unabashed wails that fade off into the night sky if only for the moon and stars to witness. “You’d think that his hands would be rough from playing football or from playing the guitar but he was always so gentle—as if I was the most precious thing in the world and that he didn’t want anyone to take me away. I love him, Ky. Why did he leave us?”

And like the moon and stars shining up above, the boys could only watch as you broke in silence.