#i feel like i’m back in 2015 but in a good way this was so fun
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hobisexually · 2 years ago
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#You know what’s weird?#in a way I am more steady in myself than I have ever been. I see my worth rather than pretend I see my worth but actually don’t#I see where all my shit stems from in a way I never used to. I talk about it in a communicative way I was never able to before#like all of it is lining Up and somehow? I also feel worse?#I don’t know if it’s because I’m just more aware now and also more capable of changing my habits or whatever or if it’s just less repressed#but like. been having seasonal affective disorder since I was eight probably and even before but then you didn’t know#and I didn’t put the pieces together until. what. 2014? 2015? I didn’t know it had a name#and id always count it a good winter if I hadn’t disassociated at all. that was the goal.#now 2022 is over and the months where id disassociate are also over (it always gets easier for me come January)#and I made it through without disassociating! that’s a huge win right! right? but …..#and somehow it felt like? SUCH a rough winter? and I handled it well but everything feels so heavy#and I know it’s not worse than prior years. I do. but it doesn’t FEEL like that#perhaps that’s because of everhthing that happened in December and my falling out with my dad and my owning up to how deep my trauma runs#instead of passing it off as ‘haha yeah some things were rough and winter sucks BUT I AM SO CHIPPER AND GOOD AND UPBEAT HA!’#but honestly looking at it just. is a lot. and logistically I know I genuinely am the best version of myself currently#but 2014 me was funner thinner and wilder and she was also COMPLETELY unhinged and I know I shouldn’t want that version of me back#but I’m constantly comparing current me to her?????? as if she was the ultimate goal#I know when March comes and we’re back at the summer clock I’ll have forgotten how heavy I felt now#but whew…………….. whew it’s a lot#also completely being honest with yourself about jn how many areas your anxiety is Fucking debilitating sometimes#really sucks. it sucks. I feel so raw and vulnerable and I want to stop fixing things and just live#OH THAT TOO my roommate is Living It Up and I used to be able to keep up with her when we were in uni and now I can’t and that just#makes it feel even more like i regressed. I hate it. and again I Know myself now in a way I didn’t then and that’s worth so much#but ugh!!! ugh. and also I HATE that it feels like all I’ve done since November is complain but it’s been. Well. extraordinarily rough#I haven’t even told the internet any of it and even my friends know the minimum but. sigh. SIGH.#just sucks to see where your everything comes from. you know?
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andhumanslovedstories · 9 days ago
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I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.
In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.
Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.
On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.
It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”
I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.
That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.
It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.
Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.
I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.
After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.
Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.
I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.
I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.
Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.
I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.
But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?
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wolverigrl · 2 months ago
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The first date
Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)
!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!
Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!
Enjoy!
Previous part
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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.
Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.
"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.
I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."
The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"
I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."
We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.
“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."
For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.
"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."
He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.
This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.
Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.
Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.
“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.
I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."
We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.
After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.
HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?
I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.
Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?
Almost immediately, his reply came through.
HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.
Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀
HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?
I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.
Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘
HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘
A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.
Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥
HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂
I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.
The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.
“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”
I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.
“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”
I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"
Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."
The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?
“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."
They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.
After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.
"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"
Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.
After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.
"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”
Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”
Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”
I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"
“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”
As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”
He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.
"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Deal!" I laughed.
After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.
>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<
>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<
>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<
I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.
HUGH: Have fun tonight😘
HUGH: Meeting up already?
HUGH: Everything okay?
Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.
"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."
"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"
I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.
"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."
There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.
"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.
"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.
"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."
Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"
I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."
Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"
"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."
"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."
We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"
I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.
"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.
"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?
We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.
As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."
"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."
"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"
I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.
We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.
Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:
>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<
The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.
“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”
“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”
I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”
He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”
“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”
With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.
After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.
When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.
“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.
“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.
We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.
"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.
"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”
I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.
“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”
Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.
I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.
“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”
I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”
Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”
Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.
After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.
The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.
Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.
"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"
"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.
"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.
"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.
I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.
I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."
Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.
"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."
I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"
He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"
I paused, meeting his eyes.
Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."
I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."
We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.
As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."
"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.
Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.
The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.
"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”
I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”
Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”
The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”
Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”
Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"
Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."
"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.
Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."
The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”
He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "
Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.
"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."
At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.
I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”
“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.
"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."
"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"
Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.
"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.
Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.
"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."
I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.
The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”
Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”
I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”
Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”
We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "
Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”
As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.
“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”
I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”
Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”
“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.
After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.
"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."
Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."
Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"
I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."
Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"
Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."
Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"
"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.
Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.
Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"
I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."
With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.
Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.
---------------------------------------------------
@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild
Next part
Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.
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arienotari · 11 months ago
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
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sugar-coat-it · 2 months ago
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The one where Matty reads smut to you
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I don't know what to call this but it was fun to write! Shout out Matty reading part of 50 Shades of Grey in like 2015
Fem! Reader
Contains: dom! Matty, him making fun of her shitty romance novel, Matty reading smut to her, recreation of book scene, fingering in front of a mirror, blink and you miss it pussy spanking, praise (good girl)
WC: ~2.8k
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Matty discovers his girlfriend’s secret reading habits and can’t resist recreating one of the scenes. 
—-------------------------------
You can feel Matty’s eyes on you without even having to look up from the pages in your hands. A smile twitches at your lips. It’s like a little game, pretending you can’t feel his gaze drinking you in, admiring the way the sunlight streams through the window. The way the light graces you, bathing your skin in glowing warmth. For a man who prides himself on his talent with words, he finds himself speechless. He doesn’t mind it one bit. 
You’d been immersed in your book for hours. Admittedly, it’s not high-brow reading in the slightest. But when life is so serious, sometimes a shitty, steamy romance novel is exactly the remedy you need. Sometimes, you like to disappear into the dynamics of someone else’s life where things are simple and clean-cut. Predictable.
Unhurried, Matty pushes his weight off of the doorframe, padding across the floor to you as you lay on the couch, your book comfortably resting in your lap. He leans down, his necklace dangling in front of your face as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flicker away from the pages when you feel his lips press to your forehead with such tenderness that your heart swoons. You listen to his soft hum as you reach up to cup his face, your fingers naturally finding their place against his jaw. 
“Hi, baby. What have you got there?” he says softly, trailing a hand down your arm absentmindedly. 
“Just a silly romance book,” you answer, marking your page before handing him the book. 
He takes it from you, motioning for you to scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. Curled up at your side, Matty runs his finger down the spine of the book, observing the cover with a squinted, analytical stare. You already know he’s going to have plenty of opinions just from the art on the front alone. 
“You’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, it’s not philosophical, foreign literature,” you joke, causing him to scoff. 
“Oh god. Don’t start with me, miss,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering over the title, “Well, I certainly don’t read about kissing and stuff but I’m not above trashy reading sometimes. I suppose I always thought these books were for grandmothers and like, desperate housewives.”
“They’re not just for grandmas and housewives!” 
“Alright, alright. Forgive me,” Matty chuckles, kissing your shoulder apologetically, “What’s this one about then?”
You give him a look. An untrusting one. Matty looks at you right back, cocking an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna laugh at me.” 
“No, I won’t. I swear. Tell me.”
Sighing, you watch as he cracks open the book, beginning to leaf through the pages, smirking to himself as he scans over words with eager eyes. He nudges you with his elbow expectantly, waiting for a synopsis of the story that feels increasingly dumber and more cliche the more you think about how to explain it. But, damn it, you’re allowed to read something silly and romantic in your free time if you want!
"She's a princess and he's the knight bound to protect her. He's kind of roguish, and she's never really experienced anything, she's bound to the castle most of the time but she’s still a badass. They fall in love even though they know they can't,” you mutter, watching his smirk grow wider, clearly amused. “Ah, I see. Classic, cheesy, forbidden romance shit,” he nods, glancing over at you with a glint in his eyes (one that means he’s about to say something stupid). “Is the knight hot? Does he have a big sword?”
“Yeah. Huge,” you snort, making Matty cackle in response, flipping through random pages, only making you feel more on edge. You should survive this as long as he doesn’t come across a few particular parts…
He scans over a passage, his brows furrowing slightly as he goes, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by the author. You listen as he mutters the words to himself under his breath, practically being able to see how he’s mentally tearing it to shreds as his eyes catch over the sappy dialogue and paragraphs of woeful yearning. 
“Christ. How many times is she going to use the word ‘longing’? This is… terrible.”
“Would you stop being a critic for once? It’s sweet,” you protest, finding the pining endearing. You’ve always been a slow-burn lover at heart. 
Matty groans, yet he continues to read on, underwhelmed but curiously hooked at the same time. Just as you’d begun to lay your head on his chest to relax, he lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. 
“Oh, he’s not just protecting her, he’s ‘trailing his calloused hands down her curves, his hands rough from years of wielding his sword’,” he reads before making an exaggerated moan, fanning himself with his hand dramatically. 
You feel your stomach drop. You know exactly what chapter he’s reading from and it only gets more indecent from there. You pick your head up, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as, to your horror, he begins to read directly from the pages. 
“‘Her breasts heaved as he unhooked her corset, his rough hands against her pale skin as he lays her on the silken sheets’. Wow, I take it all back, this is better than I thought, you didn’t say they fuck.”
You sputter, realizing you should have known better than to let him get his hands on your novel. You’re never going to hear the end of this now. God help you, the look on his face is absolutely wicked. 
"But it's not just physical between them! He loves her more than anything and wants to show her what she’s been deprived of,” you shake your head, trying to snatch the book back to no avail, “You don’t get it, it’s for the girls, Matty.”
Matty rolls his eyes, chuckling at the heated scene that is unfolding on the pages before him, holding the book out of your reach. “Sweetheart, you can defend it however you want, this is absolutely filthy. You’re sitting here, casually reading pornography. Doesn’t matter if it’s ‘girly’.”
He leafs through the pages with the intent to get you thoroughly worked up, jabbing his finger at the page when he finds a particularly lewd section. He’s having far too much fun with this and he knows it.
“I mean, seriously, listen to this part. ‘His stare was piercing through her as he let her feel the stiffness of his pulsing member.’ Babe,” he chuckles in disbelief, “Horrid word choice there, so unsexy. I mean, just say dick.”
“Matty! Are you seriously doing this right now? Give it back,” you protest with heated cheeks, trying to reach for the novel just for Matty to hold it further away from you. 
“No, no. We’re just getting to the good parts now, lemme see,” he grins wolfishly, curling up closer to you so his lips are brushing against your ear, “‘Maneuvering her to sit in front of the tall, gilded mirror, the knight slips her silk nightgown over her waist. With his fingers on her delicate jaw, guiding her gaze forward, he lets his opposite hand smooth down her body…’”
You can feel the air between you change as the detailed, obscene words begin to slip from his lips with ease. He has one hand holding the book while the other slides over your waist, stirring warmth inside of you as he gently moves his fingers back and forth. His tone has dropped down to a low, sultry murmur, a shiver racing down your spine at the slight rasp in your ear, the hairs standing up at the back of your neck. The tips of your ears burn every time he emphasizes dirtier words, rubbing little circles against your hip as he drawls to you about how the knight is tearing off her panties. The chapter is salacious enough as is, but the way he reads it to you makes it feel downright foul. 
“... ‘She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building inside of her as he slowly curled his calloused finger upward, his thumb rubbing in tight circles against her heat, staring at her through the mirror’s reflection’,” Matty whispers, his breath hot, fanning against your skin.
He’s having a harder time focusing on the words when he can feel you getting increasingly warmer as you cling to his side, the heat radiating off of your skin from beneath your clothes. He doesn’t miss the way your hips squirm slightly, the crackling tension thickening the air between you as he reads. Matty can’t help but glance at you periodically, the unmistakable lust in your lidded eyes making him ache. 
You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your entire body is buzzing with need, warmth coursing through you endlessly, pooling deep inside of you. You cut him off mid-word by turning your head and pressing your lips to his heatedly. Matty moans into your mouth, letting the book tumble to the floor as he moves to roughly grasp your hips with both hands, pulling you flush against his frame. 
“Dirty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you with enough fervor to make your head spin. 
Your hands cling to his shirt, letting his tongue slip past your lips as his eager fingers roam, groping and feeling you as he pleases. Your breath shudders as Matty pulls away to mouth under your jawline, alternating between heated kisses and nips of his teeth. 
“Does it get you hot when you’re reading it, babe? Thinking about the knight fucking his princess?” he rasps, grabbing a handful of your ass. 
You can only whimper in response, your head tilting back to give Matty more room to continue his loving assault on your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin. 
“Yeah, I bet it does,” he mumbles, laving his tongue over a faded love bite just above your collarbones. 
Matty slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, scooping you up with your legs around his waist. As he carries you from the couch to your bedroom, you can’t resist grinding a little against the front of his gray sweatpants, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric. He digs his fingers into your hips, you’re not quite sure if it’s as a warning or to encourage you. You love it either way. 
Just as you think he’s about to lay you down on the crisp sheets of your bed, Matty lowers you to the ground in front of your floor-length mirror, pulling you to sit in his lap with your legs spread, just like in the book. He taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips, allowing him to slide off your pajama shorts. 
With an approving sigh, Matty smooths his hands out over your inner thighs, making a shiver skitter down your spine with tingling warmth. He coos, settling his chin on top of your shoulder as he stares at your body through the mirror. 
“Aw, you really liked me reading to you, baby. Look at yourself. You’re soaked through,” he admires, parting your legs wider to allow you a look at your dampened panties.
Matty skims his hand up your thigh with a murmur of “don’t look away” as he starts to feel over the darkened fabric of your underwear. You shudder, your lashes fluttering at the sensations that begin to stir at just the light brush of his calloused fingertips. You can feel your cheeks flush brighter at this new perspective, watching the two of you in the reflection of the mirror, seeing not only Matty’s reactions but also your own. You get to see the expressions that Matty loves so dearly when he’s making you fall apart, telling you how pretty you are. You do look pretty like this, with your skin flushed and your chest heaving with desire. 
Agonizingly slowly, he presses two fingers against your panties, rubbing in little circles over your clit just to make you squirm in his lap. Matty kisses from the top of your shoulder to right under your ear, his breath hot as he watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes are intense, darkened with urges.
Steadily, he hooks his fingers under the fabric, sliding the soaked material to the side with a groan that rumbles against your back. A gasp is ripped from your lips as he parts you with his fingers, exposing you to him with frustratingly gentle pressure. You can tell he’s restraining himself tonight. Even though he’s itching to have you writhing, he slowly dips his thumb into your pooling arousal, his digit slick as he finds your clit with practiced ease. 
Your eyes roll at that feeling of first contact, sensations coursing through you as you get your first lick of relief. Matty traces firm circles, his other hand moving to grasp your breast, thumbing at your nipple over your shirt. 
“Matty, faster, please,” you pant, your voice wavering with need.
“Shh, this is how it went in the book, hm? He was so gentle with her, isn’t that right?” he mutters, dismissing the way your hips jump, aching for friction. You can’t stand it. He’d whined about how awful your book was, but now he’s treating it like gospel, refusing to stray from how the scene was written. 
Once he’s satisfied with how long he’s been lazily circling your clit, Matty picks up the pace just enough to make you whimper, still in control of your pleasure. His brows pinch together as your hips rock heedlessly on top of him, both of your eyes glued to his hand between your thighs. You can feel him, stiff and twitching beneath his sweats as the heat continues to bloom between you. Slowly, he starts to sink one finger inside of you, curling it just so. It’s obscene to watch.
“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” Matty whispers, dragging his lower lip along your earlobe, “What does he do next?” 
“What?” you mumble, too caught up in the feeling of your brain melting down your spine to understand the question. Matty smirks with the satisfaction of rendering you wonderfully dumb. 
“In the book, darling. What does he do to her next?” he finishes, landing a firm spank on your cunt, relishing in your cry, “You didn’t let me finish readin’ ‘cause you got impatient, didn’t you, sweet girl? Always just gagging for me.”
You try and gather yourself enough to speak as Matty presses on your clit, your head lolling back against his shoulder. He moves his hand from your tits to your inner thigh, holding open your trembling legs in his secure hold.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he says with a kiss to your neck, encouragingly rubbing his thumb against your soft thigh, “I know you remember.”
“He… he has her look into her own eyes as he makes her cum.”
Matty whistles lowly, impressed, sounding like he’s sorry he didn’t think of doing that to you first. He reaches for your chin, grasping it to tilt your head down, watching you meet your own stare in the mirror. 
“Good girl, stay like that for me,” he murmurs, keeping his fingers splayed across your jaw. 
You watch as your eyes widen the moment Matty begins to swiftly move his thumb, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your brows furrow with a shuddering moan, your mouth dropping open. You grasp his wrist with urgency, feeling yourself approach the edge almost mortifyingly quickly as you pant and writhe on top of him.
“See how pretty you look when you’re about to cum? I fucking love that look. I live for it,” he grins, “That’s it, just let it happen, my love.” 
He tightens his hold on your jaw, reminding you to watch your face as you feel it wash over you in waves of relief through your whole body, your expression contorting with pleasure.
“Ah, fuck!” you cry, listening to him mutter breathy sighs of “Good fucking girl” and “Yeah, that’s right” in your ear. 
Once you go slack against his body, Matty withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean, obscenely sliding his tongue between them while you catch your breath. 
“I reckon I did it better than him, what do you think?” he smirks, his voice muffled around his digits. You shake your head hazily as he lets go of them with a wet popping sound.
“You’re insufferable…”
“You love me. You looove me so badly,” he sings, grasping your sides lovingly as he presses his lips to your cheek.
You do love him. Badly. Even if you’re never going to hear the end of how terrible your book choices are.
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supernovafics · 4 months ago
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series masterlist | last part — next part
pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 4.3k words
warnings: explicit language, brief mention of weed, a bit of angst
summary: a power outage leaves you stuck at steve’s apartment for the night
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CHAPTER SEVEN | ❝𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌❞
Winter 2015
The call connected after only a few rings. “Hey.”
“Hey, Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Eddie responded. “Did it end up snowing by you?”
“Yeah, only a couple of inches, but it’s still something.” 
“Make a snowman in honor of me and send me a picture.”
You laughed a little. “It’ll be the smallest snowman in the world because there’s barely any snow on the ground, Edward.” 
“I’ll take what I can get.”
“Fine, I’m not gonna do it now since it’s two in the morning, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. 
Things became comfortably quiet for a few moments and you kept the phone at your ear as you moved about your kitchen, searching for something to eat and ultimately settling for a bowl of dry cereal. 
“What are you doing right now?”
“Getting a snack.”
“Cereal?”
“Of course,” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “You know me so well.”
“I think I’ll always remember that because it's such a random thing,” He told you and you laughed at that. 
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting outside smoking.”
“I wish I was there right now,” You told him. “It’s so quiet here because my dad’s not really around. Plus, I really like your hometown.”
“Come here for spring break.”
You didn’t even need to think about his words before you were agreeing. “Okay.”
“Great,” He said. “And you already know about my very loud and obnoxious neighbors, so you’ll like it. It’s rarely ever quiet here.”
You smiled. “Any new stories to share?”
He told you about an argument he overheard yesterday, something about a lawn mower, and then the two of you talked about nothing for the next hour as you leaned back against your kitchen counter eating your cereal and Eddie smoked weed in his front yard. You could tell that he was already tired only half an hour into the call, it was always easy to hear the sleepiness in his voice, but he stayed on for you. You talked until you finally got tired, a yawn escaping your lips as you went upstairs to your childhood bedroom.
“Goodnight. Sorry for keeping you on the phone for so long.”
“No apology needed. I wanted to talk to you.”
You were shaking your head as you got under your covers. “You’re just way too nice to me.”
“I gotta be nice or else I’ll never get my tiny snowman,” He joked and you smiled at that. “G’night.”
“Bye.”
You two hung up then, and you became engulfed in silence and darkness; the soothing and comforting kind that made your eyelids feel heavy. But before you could fall asleep, you thought about the kiss— that quick moment played on what felt like a constant loop in your head. 
At first, you had wanted to just forget about it, and a part of you wished that you simply didn’t remember it like Eddie didn’t. But, the more you thought about it over the last few days that you’d been home, the more it felt easier to convince yourself that maybe it was a good thing that it happened. Because you couldn’t help but still believe that it had to mean something. 
That entire night had to mean something, actually. Eddie didn’t have his date with Chrissy; you still didn’t know the reason why she canceled it at the last second. And he kissed you at that party— even though he didn’t remember it, it still happened.
You considered finally, finally taking the plunge and just telling him how you felt when you both were back from break. Simply letting it out and letting everything else fall into the places that they were meant to fall. And somehow, the thought of finally doing it, finally admitting the truth, didn’t scare you as much as it once did.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Spring Semester 2018
You tried to figure out if the silence that you and Steve were currently sitting in was comfortable or not. It felt equal parts good and bad, too much and just fine, and weird but also not really. 
You shifted slightly on the couch, which you and Steve were currently sitting on opposite sides of, folding your legs under yourself. Things didn’t immediately become quiet between you two when the power went out. Instead, you followed him, using your phone as a flashlight, as he went to find the candles he had around; there were only three. He lit them and set them on the coffee table in the living room and then that was when you two settled on the couch, a quietness starting to linger. 
It was late, getting close to midnight, and a part of you wanted to go to sleep, but there was no way that you’d be able to do so with how silent it was, and you didn’t think that you’d be able to bear sitting in it all night. Maybe it wasn’t too comfortable after all. 
You were reminded of when you and Eddie met; the broken down elevator and random conversation that forged an immediate friendship. For obvious reasons, this moment was pretty different— you and Steve weren’t strangers, although you definitely didn’t feel that far off from it, and you knew that you’d be at Steve’s place for much longer than you’d been stuck in the elevator with Eddie. 
Because of that, you were abruptly breaking the silence with the first thing that came to your mind.
“Do you remember what your last dream was about?” 
Steve was clearly surprised by the randomness of your question because all he responded with was “What?” and let out a confused laugh. 
“Things are way too quiet right now and that was the first question that came to my mind,” You told him with a shrug. “So, do you remember your last dream?” 
“Um, kinda?” He said and then paused for a moment to think. “I’m pretty sure I was just driving. But, it was in a different country because I was driving on the other side of the road.”
There was something about the mundanity of his dream that was both boring and kind of soothing to hear about. “That’s so normal.”
“What was yours?” 
You were thinking for a second before it hit you; the dream that you’d had a few nights ago that was the most recent one you remembered. “I got pushed off a cliff.”
Steve looked at you. It was too dark to read his expression, the candles weren’t doing much to light up the space, but you imagined it was one of confusion. “That sounds much more like a nightmare than a dream.”
“Yeah, abruptly waking up from that was a great way to start my Friday morning,” You responded. “I rarely remember regular dreams where I’m just doing dumb normal stuff. It’s always those falling ones that stick and they actually happen a lot. Before the cliff thing, I remember one where I was tumbling down a hill.”
“You’re talking about this so normally that I don’t know if I should feel bad or not.”
You laughed a little as you shook your head. “Definitely don’t feel bad. Just please tell me about any recurring nightmares you’ve had before.”
“I used to have this one where I’m playing basketball and then I get injured; broken ankle, broken leg, stuff like that,” He told you, which made you inwardly wince because that sounded a thousand times worse than your falling dreams. “That nightmare doesn’t happen that much anymore now, though. It used to happen a lot right when I actually got hurt playing a couple years ago.”
You nodded at that. “Oh, is that why you stopped?”
“Yeah, that injury was pretty fucked…” His eyes pulled away from yours and focused on something else. You were able to read that pretty easily; his want for the subject to change and shift away from him having to talk about his injury and probably basketball in general. 
“Y’know, I’m just now realizing that we don’t really know anything about each other. Actually, I’m not just now realizing that, I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days. How this whole thing between me and you feels like when you get partnered up on a project with that one person in class that you never really talked to before,” You were pretty much rambling at this point so you decided to stop. “But, yeah, anyway, the sentiment still stands. We know nothing about each other.”
“I think saying nothing is kind of a stretch,” Steve said, eyes meeting yours again. “I know you’re an English major and you love reading, which of course makes sense. And you have a bunch of roommates; you were just gonna have one, but then that changed to three.” 
It didn’t entirely surprise you to hear all of the stuff that he had remembered from the date; it had only been a little over a week ago. What did surprise you was that you couldn’t really say the same. The only things you remembered learning about him were his major and minor, which you already knew, and the fact that he didn’t like reading— you were vaguely reminded of an Italian mouse book series that he had apparently really liked in fifth grade. 
“Oh my god, did I seriously only talk about myself during our date?” You said, suddenly feeling entirely too embarrassed by just how true your words were. “I didn’t think I was that much of a narcissist.”
“You’re not. I just didn’t talk about myself that much,” Steve told you with a shrug.  
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
He sighed. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” 
For some reason, that made you smile. “Now, I definitely wanna hear it.” 
He sighed again and for a second you thought that he just wasn’t going to tell you, but then he was speaking. “I always do that on dates because it’s just the easiest way to keep things surface level and not serious.”
It surprised you that he sounded a little embarrassed to admit that.
“I don’t think that makes you an asshole,” You said, and you were actually being honest. You really didn’t think that him basically putting up walls was an inherently shitty thing to do, but it did sound the tiniest bit sad. You didn’t want to say that, though. “Are you tired right now?” Another conversation shift, solely for the reason that you wanted to keep things simple and easy. This was only the second real and non-fake dating conversation you two were having and you didn’t want it to lead to you two bearing your souls to each other in the dark. It felt way too soon for those kinds of conversations, and you didn’t know if you’d even get to that place with him before the month was over and you two “broke up” and went your separate ways. 
“No,” He answered with a quick shake of his head, which you were glad for because you were nowhere near being tired either. “Are you?” 
“Not even close,” You responded. “Do you have any games we can play or something?”
“I have a deck of cards.” 
“That works.” 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
You two didn’t end up playing any actual card games. Steve attempted to teach you poker, but after only a few rounds you hated it, and there were no other games that either of you could think of with simple enough rules that you could teach him or he could teach you. Therefore, you two instead started playing with the cards themselves, attempting to build little card houses and other things, which was Steve’s suggestion. 
It had been quiet for the past few minutes, but surprisingly comfortably so. You could feel yourself becoming the tiniest bit tired, but at the same time not at all. 
“Do you like living alone?” You asked as you attempted to stand two cards up to make a sort of triangle shape and balance on each other, which actually wasn’t that easy.
“Yeah, definitely,” Steve nodded. You two were sitting on opposite sides of his coffee table and the candles had been moved to the floor— which probably should’ve felt more like a bad idea— to make room on the table. “The roommate I had Freshman year was horrible.”
You laughed at that. “I also had a shitty roommate experience Freshman year, but I still love having roommates…” You trailed off as you tried to think of the perfect way to fully sum up your thoughts toward your current roommate situation. “It feels like summer camp, but without the poison ivy and multiple cases of mono.” 
Steve gave you an amused look. “What kinds of insane summer camps did you used to go to?” 
“Really bad ones,” You told him. “And I hated it every year, but my parents were obsessed with sending me to them— especially after they got divorced— because they worked a lot and didn’t want me to be alone all the time.” 
“Okay, now it makes sense why you like having roommates.” 
You nodded. “Only child and divorced parents. Terrible combo. I hate when things are too quiet.”  
You pulled your eyes away from the cards that you finally managed to make stand on their own to look at what Steve was doing. He was much farther along than you were at building something that actually looked interesting.  
“You’re weirdly good at this,” You said when your cards fell again and instead of immediately trying to stand them back up, you watched as Steve kept building some sort of pyramid. 
He shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I used to always do this when I was bored as a kid.”
“That’s actually quite wholesome,” You told him as you picked up your two cards. A beat of silence lingered for a moment before you were speaking. “So, did you ever go to camp or were your summers spent playing with cards like a bored child in the fifties?”
The laugh Steve let out at your joke made you smile. “I only went to camp twice; when I was twelve and then thirteen. It felt a lot like the kind of summer camp that you’d see in any movie. Lots of lake stuff and campfires and that type of thing. The first year kinda sucked, but the second year was fun. I even had a camp girlfriend.”
You let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, you actually had a girlfriend?”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, it was the greatest three-week-long relationship ever.”
What happened? 
That was what you wanted to ask— not what happened to the camp girlfriend because you obviously knew how those relationships went. But what happened to him wanting crushes and relationships and actual feelings? 
You didn’t ask that, though. You felt like you couldn’t; the question felt too deep, too real. And you also thought that it would be kind of pointless to ask it.
“Do you think it’s working?” Steve asked, abruptly pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“What?”
“This fake dating thing. Do you think it’s working for you?” 
“Oh, yeah, sometimes I think it actually is. Like, after game night, Eddie stayed over at the apartment and we watched TV for a few hours and then he randomly asked if I really liked you. I told him yes— obviously— and he said “Cool,” but there was this certain look on his face too. I couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but it felt like something,” You said, thinking back to that Monday night. “But, then, I also think it’s not really working because nothing like that has happened since.”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true. The party a few days ago didn’t feel like nothing.” 
“You think?” 
“Yeah, it looked pretty clear that he didn’t want you to stay with me,” He told you and you weren’t entirely sure how true that was, the end of the night was a little bit of a blur, but you did believe Steve. “Have you ever thought that something was going to happen between you and him before? Like, moments that made it feel obvious or whatever?”
Your mind traveled to the drunken kiss at the frat party Freshman year. A fleeting kiss that felt like a distant memory at this point, and the tiniest bit like a dream. What also felt like a dream, or more so a nightmare, was the day that you came back from Winter break, weeks after the kiss. You had finally worked up the courage to tell Eddie how you felt and you were knocking on his door to do it before you could convince yourself not to. He opened the door after only a second and there he was with Chrissy. 
You didn’t immediately know it was her; at first, she was simply just a random girl wearing his t-shirt. What happened over those next few minutes was Eddie explaining to you that they met up during the last few days of break and the rest was history. They seemed happier than ever and you knew for certain that your chance was gone.
You hated thinking about that moment. You remembered feeling stupidly hopeful, like everything was going to finally fall into place for you and him, and then feeling severely disappointed, but having to hide that with a happy smile. From there you pushed everything to the side— went back to pretending that you felt nothing romantic for your best friend and simply avoided thinking about it altogether. Until they broke up and now here you were back to pining. 
It felt way too embarrassing to admit all of that to Steve right then.
“Um, I don’t know…” You finally said, trailing off and shrugging. “Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate the moments that are solely friendly with the moments that could maybe mean something more.” 
If Steve could tell that you were lying and avoiding saying a lot more, he didn’t call you out on it; which you were glad for. Instead, he simply nodded at your words. 
You pushed up the sleeves of your sweater. “These candles are making it really warm in here.” 
“I can give you something to wear if you want, so you’re not in jeans and a sweater all night.”
You hesitated just for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”
You followed him to his room and stood by the door as he went to grab something for you. When he handed the clothes over, you saw that it was a t-shirt and basketball shorts. You went to the bathroom to change, keeping the door cracked so that it wasn’t entirely pitch black.
You put on the shorts first and then slipped the shirt over your head. It smelled just like Steve, which shouldn’t have been surprising at all since these were his clothes, but you still were a little startled. Maybe it felt more surprising to you that you were able to easily recognize his smell; that you could get hit with the scent of something that was somehow equal parts musky and sweet and immediately place it as Steve. 
It felt weird and almost too much, and a part of you wanted to take off his shirt, but you knew that it probably would’ve been weirder and more of a big deal if you did. So, you didn’t take it off and instead decided to actively not think about why it had felt weird to you at all. 
When you returned to the living room, you sat on Steve’s side of the table because you wanted to lean back against the couch. The pyramid he had been building was gone and instead, he just had a few cards in his hand. You noticed him yawn, which made you realize that you still weren’t really tired, and you also wondered what time it was. You grabbed your phone off the table to check the time; 1:17a.m.
“Are you tired now?” You asked Steve as you placed your phone back down. You knew what answer you were expecting to get from him, but you still wanted to ask the question anyway. 
“Not really, no,” He answered, and you, of course, didn’t believe him.
“You can go to sleep if you want,” You said, glancing at him. “I’ll be fine out here.”
You probably would end up staying up all night if he did leave you right then, but you didn't want to force him to stay awake with you if he was tired.
“It’s okay,” He said. “Let’s just keep talking.” 
You still weren’t completely convinced, but you nodded at his words anyway. 
“This is random, but sometimes Talia bakes in the middle of the night whenever she’s stressed and can’t sleep,” You told him and then let out a small laugh. “And she’s a very noisy baker. I was woken up many, many times to the sound of a mixer last semester.”
Steve turned his head to look at you. “Isn’t that annoying?”
“A little bit, yeah. But she thankfully got one of those stand mixers that are pretty quiet last month, so now it’s not that bad,” You said, and you briefly thought back to a few weeks ago when she made blueberry muffins on a random Tuesday night. “Also, we wake up to freshly baked muffins in the morning so that makes it okay too.”  
“Okay, yeah, maybe the muffins make it worth it.”  
“Very much so.” 
You poked at a few of the cards on the table, flipping them over and then flipping them back just so you could have something to do with your hands. 
“Tell me about your Freshman year roommate,” Steve said. You’d forgotten that that had been briefly brought up in the conversation earlier. “Any shitty stories to share?”
“Oh, a lot. I’m pretty sure she hated me. She never blatantly said that, but it just felt obvious. Anyway, though, she always brought people over and never told me about it. I lost count of how many times I walked in on her and some guy mid-makeout,” You quickly explained. “That was actually how me and Eddie got really close. He lived across the hall from me, and his roommate was barely ever around, so I would always go over to his dorm when my roommate was being annoying.” 
“Okay, she sounds a thousand times worse than how mine was. He would mainly just leave trash everywhere and play music really loud.”
“That sounds like heaven compared to the shit I had to deal with.” 
“It was still enough to make me never want a roommate again,” Steve responded, putting the cards in his hand down on the table and leaning back against the couch. “I don’t mind the quietness that comes with no one else being here.”
“Okay, this question is very random and probably dumb, but why did you say yes to the blind date thing when Eddie asked you?” You weren’t entirely sure why you asked that, but you were curious, and also finally starting to get a little tired so your mind was moving to even more random places. The kinds of places that it wouldn’t have gone to if your lack of sleep from the night before wasn’t beginning to catch up with you. 
“He made you sound really cool and nice and—”
You stopped Steve mid-sentence. “Okay, wait, never mind, pretend I didn’t ask. It feels weird hearing that, actually.”
“Honestly, I think he probably does feel the same as you. The way he talked about you that day felt different than just how a friend talks about another friend, now that I'm really thinking about it.”
You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that.
It was hard to tell the difference between having false hope and having expectations that were actually realistic enough to be fulfilled. You didn’t know where this Eddie thing lay. It felt so in the middle, perfectly toeing the line.
You leaned back against the couch and that was when you noticed how close you and Steve were sitting. Your sides just barely touched, the short sleeves of your respective shirts lightly brushing, but you didn’t feel the need to move over. 
“So, if this fake dating thing ends up working for you, and you’re not forced to go to the Hamptons to find your future wife, do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?” 
You figured that, at the end of the day, if what you two were doing didn’t end up working out on your side of things, at least Steve would hopefully get something good out of it. 
“I’m not sure yet. Maybe go to Europe for a bit with a few friends.”
“That’s very rich kid of you to say,” You joked. 
Steve laughed a little. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “But, I do know that it probably won’t include backpacking around Europe.”
The conversation continued moving in different directions from there, but it slowly started to fade out. With both of you saying things that probably didn’t make too much sense and probably wouldn’t even be remembered in the morning because you were falling asleep as you were talking and the lines between what was real and what felt like a dream became blurred. At some point, you were closing your eyes and leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder because you were too tired to think better of it. 
The night had felt entirely unexpected, but you were glad that it happened. You were happy about the stupid storm and stupid power outage. 
Finally, you felt like you actually knew him— not just the stuff that mattered for fake dating. He was your friend now and you were his. Neither of you would end up saying that in the morning or anytime soon, but it felt pretty obvious.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
next part!
taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual
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moonshynecybin · 5 months ago
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Hey! Just wanted to say I’m in awe of how your writing it’s just so GOOD and FUN and TORUROUS. It’s rly hard to nail the voices and dialogue of characters (especially when writing them speaking in english!) but you always make it so believable. Ur Vale especially is sooo charismatic which like hats off bc a more mercurial man has not been made. 
Re ur charged-airport-conversation fic, I’m intrigued to find out how Marc will handle his sexuality crisis. Will he be in denial? does he very seriously study gay culture like telemetry data? is he getting Grindr? is he seeing it as something to incorporate into his PT routine & somehow translate this to a competitive edge? how did he feel about the pope saying frociaggine????
Also I loved the goofy brother shenanigans, Alex strongest most patient and silliest man alive truly. Extremely funny to think of Alex “please get a girlfriend you’re 30 and annoying me” Marquez having to cope with Marc coming back like “I found one! :3” holding hands with Cervera’s enemy #1 undisputed champ 2015-2024
Anyways, would love to hear any thoughts u had but no pressure! I just wanted to thank u for ur brilliant mind & forget about whatever fresh hell that sprint was 
this one. is one that i plan to maybe actually and fr write out so i shant answer in full because i hope that you'll find out eventually. um. i CAN give you chapter two! of THIS fic where Marc and Vale get stuck in an airport and have a somewhat fraught little bonding session. i have not proofread this OR reread the original so if there's inconsistencies just chill out. theres also a lot of liberties taken with the amount of privacy these guys have on a given race weekend again just chill out. please. they live in different countries and are bitter rivals its hard to get them alone into fictional scenarios. its about 1.4k.
(Part ONE !)
The next time he sees Vale is in the paddock.
It's not unusual to see him— the paddock is small and Vale is always a presence, felt even when he’s gone, indelible—but it’s on the television more often than not these days. Maybe a glimpse of him zooming around on his scooter, ignoring the swing of the camera phones tracking him in his wake. But it’s not like this, never this close up. Vale maintains distance, and Marc has adapted to take his cues from that same distance. He’s not going to be the first to engage, not anymore. 
All that being said, Marc is trying to grab some alone time in between sessions, communing with his lunch and contemplating ways to improve his breaking into Turn 11. He’s tucked into a shady place out of the way, generally out of the range of any stray cameras, when Vale catches him, sliding next to him on the table and leaning forwards on his elbows.
He starts picking at Marc’s food.
Marc reacts reflexively, not even processing that it's Vale who’s at his elbow who is reaching over to snag a bit of his chicken. He lifts his bowl out of reach like he would with Alex. “Hey— that's mine,”
Vale’s game, apparently, shooting him one of those dangerous grins, eyes crinkling at the sides towards Marc like he hasn’t seen in years. He’s brimming with the confidence of someone used to getting away with breaking rules. Marc puts down his food. Lifts a hand, adjusts the cap at the top of his head, and tucks his hair behind his ear. 
This means something. He doesn’t know what.
“Allora, you were not eating it.”
And Marc has always been easy for it—the simple skill he has in spinning a situation into the brightest version of itself, mood turning on a dime. Even when he was destroying Marc, he would do it with a smile. 
It’s that same silverbright thread that makes Marc laugh, disbelieving, a shock of delight. He shoves at the edge of Vale’s arm, jockeying with his elbow. He bites his lip, shakes his head. Would you look at that?
“Presumptuous,” Marc scolds, and tucks back into his lunch, forking another bite into his mouth. Vale grins and leans closer, conspiratorial. That same hot, embarrassed feeling from the airport rears its head, giddy. Marc glances around. There’s no one here. He feels like there is. LIke there’s eyes on them, even though he’d chosen a place where there shouldn't be.
It feels like crossing a line, teetering on the edge of some cliff, one toe over the edge. Hot and anticipatory in the pit of his stomach. There’s a breeze going, and he shivers. Vale leans closer.
He likes it. 
He also knows that he shouldn't like it. He’s gone through this song and dance before. This feeling, this hero worship that he has with Vale never leads him down any good road. He thought– six premier class titles and nearly ten years of vitriol had been an effective cure. Not so, he’s finding out.
Vale corrects, “I see what I see. This I cannot help.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve been watching me?
Vale shrugs, steals another bite. “You do manage to put on a good, ah, show.” He finds the words in Spanish. Marc can’t remember the last time they spoke in Spanish.
Marc takes a breath in. Settles himself. He doesn’t know what the end goal is here. Curiosity wins out— it’s better than wondering why Vale’s here in the first place. What game he’s trying to play. What he thinks he’ll get out of being nice to Marc, aside from that shivery feeling clawing its way up the base of his spine. He should really at least find out if he’s doing this because he plans on not being nice to Marc. 
“How did you find me?” Is what he goes with. Neutral enough. 
“You are not hard to find.” The answer is vague, but frank. Vale loves to speak around things.
Marc raises an eyebrow, decides to just keep looking at him. They both know he’s bullshitting. Vale breaks, and makes a face, shrugging.
“I have been racing here longer than you. I know the hiding spots.”
Marc gives him a minute roll of the eyes. It's still not an answer. “You know, they remodeled not too long ago. The entire layout changed.” Vale would’ve had to work to find him. 
“Not too much!” Vale spreads his palms cheerfully, seizing on a diversion. “The bones are still the same. The stands are over there,” he juts a thumb, “The pits are here. The bathrooms change, but bah. It’s a facelift.”
Marc wrangles down a smile. Vale’s not being serious— he’s being fun. Maybe he’s trying to get him comfortable for some reason. “A lot changes, I think.” He says frankly, and he means it. 
Vale’s eyes flash. He sees Marc’s conviction, catches the double meaning. Another one of their conversations centering around two different issues on the surface, but coming back to their history all the same. The elephant in the room butting into other topics. History, division, and rivalry, all sneaking its way into the cracks in their words. 
Vale keeps going, the lead in their little play.
“Maybe. But it’s not— like, aerodynamics, new regulations, new tires— all that changes. Small stuff.  Opinions, riders. But it is still a paddock. I’ve been in paddocks my entire life. You can’t change much.”
Things change a lot, in Marc’s experience. People. Teams. Bodies. 
Friendships.
And Marc is brave usually, has made a career out of it, so he feels like he has to ask. No use avoiding it and feeling half out of his skin for the rest of the day. Vale’s knee bumps into his own and he closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them Vale is already looking at him
“Why are you here?” He levels.
Vale throws him a soft smile. It comforts exactly no part of Marc.
“Maybe I was looking for a hiding place.”
Marc hesitates, choosing his words carefully. It’s always a spar with Valentino; even when they were friendly, they were still competing.
“Am I the hiding place?”
“Well, I am still more famous than you, is true. Less photographers on you than me. It’s peaceful.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Now there’s a good question.” Vale says, stealing something else off of Marc’s plate. “Today? I was hungry. I thought I’d stop by and eat with an old friend.” The words jolt through Marc like a highside. He’s in the air— lost, flying, falling. 
Vale stands, towering. He claps Marc on the shoulder. It burns white hot. Marc keeps his eyes on him, trying to catch a hint, a clue as to how this all happened. 
An old friend.
“Is that what we are?” He asks, more earnest than he should be. Vale can be such a bastard.
“Well, what would you call it?” He responds, turning the question on Marc, voice quiet. Serious, like he knows whatever hangs between them is as thin as a spiderweb. Marc swallows.
“I don’t know,” Marc answers. still too honest, even now. Something flickers on Vale’s face, too quick and complex for him to read. 
“Think about it.” Vale prompts, and walks away.
Marc finds out that they weren’t alone, in that section of the paddock the next day. The pictures hit the news after the race, headlines rolling in thankfully after Marc has left for home. Valentino Rossi and Marc Marquez sharing lunch, alone on a race weekend ten years after their falling out. What could it mean? 
But Marc’s eyes look at the photo and just catch on Vale’s shoulders, leaning towards Marc, the palm of his hand, arcing through the air as he gestures, frozen on the screen of his phone, and himself, eyes crinkled at the corners. He was wrong. He didn’t manage to reign in that smile after all. 
FRIENDS AGAIN?, the headline asks, and Marc wonders.
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imaginaryf1shots · 6 months ago
Text
My Girls (XI) | Max Verstappen
WC: 7.6K
Driver!OC x Max Verstappen
Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.
Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandonment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)
AN: The next chapter will be the last one 🙂
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He Who Must Not Be Named
It was a normal day in MonacoIt was a normal day in Monaco. Adeline was home alone for the day. Her husband was in Sweden for work with Laurent. Cecilia was off racing with Nathalie and Max. Adeline was relaxing a bit before heading out to meet her friends for lunch. Adeline is a graceful, soft-spoken woman. Her early life was hard, but when she married Börje, she married up and now lives a life of luxury. Her husband likes to pamper her and give her everything she ever dreamed of.
When the doorbell rang Adeline was confused, she wasn't expecting anyone or anything, her mind went to how sometimes Cecilia orders stuff to their house if she doesn't want Max to see it or they weren't there and didn't want anyone to get in their apartment.
Opening the door she was rendered speechless, here stood the man that she once welcomed into her own, the man she treated like family, a man that she treated like a son something he never experience, the man her family showed so much love to, here stood the man that caused her daughter so much anguish and hurt but gave her the best thing in her life. 
“It’s good to see you Adeline.” The man had a smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets and his voice cocky. Adeline had to blink a couple of times and swallow before she was able to get her voice back.
”Mathew, what are you doing here?” Last she saw him was in 2015 and it wasn’t on good terms.
”I came to see Nathalie.” Mathew said and stuck his head inside looking around, where all this attitude came from, she had no idea. He wasn’t like this when he was with Cecilia, the nerve of him turning up at her doorsteps 7 years after his daughter was born and asking for her. “Won’t you invite me in?”
”No.” Adeline said and held the door tighter, she was blocking his way in, the usually nice and polite woman doesn’t really hate anyone, she holds no hate in her heart, but, Mathew, he’s the exception. She holds so much hate and resentment towards him, all those feelings that she gained seeing how heartbroken her daughter was when he broke up with her and chose not to be a part of Nathalie’s life, before she was even born. all those feelings that went away with years came back once she saw his face. “And you can’t see Nathalie as well.”
”Why not? She’s my daughter.” The audacity of this man, Adeline frowns and scoffs.
”I’m surprised you’ve remembered, but she’s not your daughter and she’s not here.” Adeline told him. “Good day to you, but please don’t come back.”
Adeline closed the door in his face and even locked it for good measure, she had to take a few deep breaths to calm her heart, seeing him unsettled her. Why is he back? Why is he asking about Nathalie? What game is he playing?
Adeline plops down on her sofa, and opens her phone and presses for her contacts before she stops, who does she call? Her husband, who is on a business trip and will take his plane home? Her daughter, who is busy with the last couple races of the season? Both are working and will get affected by this, it takes her a surprisingly long time to decide who to call. She calls neither of them, instead she calls Laurent first.
”Bonjour, maman.” Laurent answers as he always does, he’s always the fastest person to pick up her calls.
”Laurent.” Was all it took for her son to know that there’s something going on, his mother doesn’t call him by his name a lot, it’s always a nickname or amour, never Laurent.
”What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” She hears movement in the background as Laurent panics.
“No, no I’m fine.” She reassures him before she sighs. “Is your dad around?”
”He’s in a meeting, if you want I can go get him though.” 
“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”
”What’s going on, maman? You’re scaring me.” Laurent sounded beyond worried.
”Mathew came asking for Nathalie.” The line went silent after Adeline managed to get those words out, both needed a moment to come to terms with what Adeline said, even to herself it sounded out of this world.
”Mathew? as in…” Laurent had no idea what to call him, he’s not Nathalie’s dad, but he’s not just Cecilia’s ex as well.
”Oui.” Adeline felt a headache coming, her day is ruined and her family’s day is about to be as well. 
“Did you tell Cece?” Laurent asked, he wanted to assess the situation first before he said or did anything.
”No, I called you first and I was thinking of telling Max, he’s going to be the calmer one out of the two.” Adeline said walking her son through her thought process. “I thought it’s the best thing to do, and you can tell your father, he’ll be very angry about it especially since I’m here alone, I don’t even know how they allowed him to come up without calling me first.”
”Yeah, he’s going to have a word with the security, rightfully so.” Laurent isn’t amused with the security, their family has lived in that house since before he can remember, and his father takes their safety and security very seriously. “I think calling Max is the best thing, but wait until after the race today, I’ll tell papa.”
”Okay, but do tell him I’m alright, and that nothing happened.”
”I will, but I’m sure he’ll call you straight after anyways.” 
“That’s true, bye mon amour.”
”Bye, maman.”
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Adeline waits until the race is over and she's sure that they finished debrief and all their duties before she calls Max. Max doesn’t pick up the first time, making Adeline nervous, her leg bouncing up and down. The second time he declines but he calls her back not even 5 minutes later.
”Hello.” Max’s voice greets her.
”Hello, Max, is this a good time for us to talk?” Adeline asked, aware that just because he picked up doesn’t mean he’s not busy.
”Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, but Cecilia isn’t with me.” Max was in the car being driven back to the hotel, Nathalie and Cecilia already left, since she finished earlier than he did.
”No, I wanted to talk to you.” Adeline’s voice was a dead giveaway that something happened, she didn’t sound like her usual self at all.
”Did something happen?” Max asked frowning, Adeline took a moment to answer him, saying it the second time hasn’t made it easier for her.
”I’m sorry to be telling you this now, especially after you won today-“
”Look, whatever you need to tell me, you can say it, it’s not my first win.” Max wasn’t cocky, but this had to be big for her to call him twice and want to talk to him and not Cecilia, his mind filled with ideas about what could possibly be wrong.
“I didn’t know if to call you and tell you or call Cecilia, but I think you’ll be calmer than her and then you can judge how she is before you tell him, but Mathew came today and he wanted to see Nathalie.” Once more the line went silent but only for a moment.
”Mathew? Who's Math-“ Max stopped himself once he realised who Adeline was talking about. “Cecilia’s ex? That Mathew?”
“I’m afraid so.” Adeline sighed and closed her eyes.
“And he asked to see Nathalie?” Max asked, sounding deathly calm.
“Yes.”
”Did he ask about Cecilia?”
”No.”
”Did he say why?”
”No, just that she’s his daughter and he wants to see her.” Max scoffed at the words.
”Like hell he is.” Max muttered, his jaw clenching. “Are you okay? I know you were alone today.”
”I’m fine, don't worry, Börje will come by today or tomorrow morning, I think.” Adeline assured him. 
“That’s good, I’ll tell Cecilia, don’t worry about that.” Max was battling so many emotions inside himself right now, but he had to be calm and he had to tell his girlfriend first before they could do anything. It won’t be pretty and it won’t be nice but he has to be the one to tell her. He says his goodbyes to Adeline and spends the rest of the ride debating and thinking about how he’ll tell Cecilia. He tried to keep his thoughts from wandering and going to dark spots as much as he can, It won’t do him or anyone else any good. 
By the time he reached the hotel, he had everything planned out, what to say and what their next steps should be. However the moment he walked in it all went out the window.
“Daddy!” The arms of his beautiful 7 year old wrapped around his middle, head buried in his stomach. “What took you so long?”
Max as always pulled her up, it doesn't matter to him that she's gotten too old and heavy to be carried. He works out, he's strong and as long as he's capable he'll carry her. “Sorry liefje, the debrief took longer than we expected.”
“Its alright daddy, mommie already showered and everything.” Nathalie said and started telling him everything that's been done since she last saw him. Her every move. Cecilia’s every move.
“You little snitch, are you going to tell him how many times I've been to the bathroom.” Cecilia teased her daughter, kissing her head and Max's lips as she passed them.
“Three times.” Nathalie said proudly, making Cecilia laugh, Max managed to only give her a smile.
“We have to talk about privacy and secrets and what to tell and what not to tell.” Cecilia said from the living room part of the hotel suite, Max made it to the bedroom. He already showered at the track, he placed Nathalie on the bed and went to his suitcase to get his clothes before he went to the bathroom to change.
“But we don't keep secrets from daddy!” Nathalie exclaimed, flabbergasted that her mum would think to not tell her dad something.
“I guess not.” Cecilia said and came back with a water bottle, she kissed her daughter’s cheek, and plopped down beside her on the bed. “When do you have the call with your friend again?” Nathalie scrambled off the bed almost tripping as she rushed to the living room where her iPad is. Her friend and her scheduled a zoom call, something that she started to do when she's with her parents for a week or two. Max came out of the bathroom in a pair of shorts and shirt. He said nothing to Cecilia but sat on the bed with his back to her. Cecilia sat up and crawled towards him, she gave him a back hug, her front pressed to his back, her arms wrapping around him.
“You're quiet.” Cecilia says and presses small kisses to his neck and the parts of his jaw she could reach, Max closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of her lips feathering up and down on his skin, making him shiver. “What's wrong?”
“Cecilia.” She instantly stops and pushes herself away from her boyfriend. Max turned to look at her, she looked like he electrocuted her.
“Are you angry at me or something?” She asks him, in his eyes she looked small and confused. 
“What? No, why would you think that?” Max was now confused, why did she think he's angry with her.
“You called me Cecilia, we're alone and you never call me Cecilia.” Realisation dawned on Max, and despite what he's about to tell her, he smiles.
“No, schatje, I'm not mad, not at you at least.” Max explained and took her hand in his, he gave her a squeeze. 
“Amor, What happened.?”
“Mathew went to your parents house today.” Max decided to drop the bomb on her, Cecilia recoiled from him and was off the bed in a second.
“What? Why?” All colour drained out of her.
“Cilia, calm down.” Max followed her off the bed and around it, Cecilia was already shaking. He glanced out the door and saw Nattie occupied with her friend talking animatedly. “Just listen to me.” Cecilia gave a hesitant nod and took a deep shaky breath. “Your mum called me, he went to your family house and asked for Thalia.”
“That fucker, why the hell is he asking about her?” Cecilia’s anger is very evident, she's always been known for being calm, collected and patient. The Ice Queen of Motorsport, and a soft hearted woman behind the scenes. 
“I don't know, but we're finishing the season next week, your dad is back with your mum and he signed away his rights. He has no grounds to stand on, if he wants to do anything.” Max said and Cecilia shook her head no, she’s not satisfied, this affects her and Nathalie and even Max. It’ll cause so much trouble if he shows his face again.
”No, no Max, it’s not okay, he agreed to not show up again, he agreed to never see her and to not be a part of her life, what if he wants to be a part of her life? What if he wants to take her from me? I can’t-I can’t-“
”Cilia, Schatje, please calm down.” Max cups her face and her eyes settle on his and fill with tears. “Don’t jump to conclusions, we have no idea why he wants to see her, and he has no right to see her, so he won’t, we’re not letting him, okay?”
”Okay, yeah, you’re right.” Max pulls Cecilia in for a hug and kisses her head, as she always does when she needs comfort Cecilia tries to hide herself in Max. 
“We’re a team, you’re not going through this alone and Nathalie is mine.” Max whispers and holds her tighter. “I’d be dead before he takes her from me.”
”Thank you amour.”
”No need to thank me, we’re in this together.”
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Max goes on to win the last race of the season with Cecilia coming P3, Max won the world championship a few races back, a race that saw him as 3rd time World Champion.
The couple hadn’t been in Monaco since they heard about Mathew and he hadn’t turned up to the Hannsson household. Börje had a word with the security team at the apartment building and there has been a change in the staff. 
The family calmed down when it was two weeks after the final race and there was no trace of the British man. It seemed like he’s not in Monaco and that maybe he just winded them up for the fun of it and that he doesn’t actually want to see Nathalie.
It was a random Tuesday when Max, Charles and Lando(who was here for the week before he’ll start his winter activities) met up for some reason or the other, the trio’s relationship is ever closer because of their connections to the female driver. Something that the fans love, especially the Lestappen shippers.
”Max Verstappen!” A male voice called for the RedBull driver while they were walking around looking for the shop Cecilia told them about, before they were going to head back for a late lunch at the Hansson-Verstappen household. The trio instinctively turned around to look at the man, expecting a fan but he didn’t look like it.
”Yes.” Max answers confused, it took Charles a moment to realise who he is but the moment he did you could see it on his face.
“Mathew?” Charles was the one to say, and Max looked at him frowning before he looked back at the man who he now knows is Mathew, his eyes take in the British man, the man that caused so much trouble in Cecilia’s life, the man that donated his sperm to bring his daughter in this world, the man he wants to punch so bad for coming and asking about Nathalie.
”I’ve been hoping to run into you.” Mathew said and walked closer so he was standing in front of Max, his face in a smug grin, hands in his pockets looking like he has no care in the world. 
“And here I was hoping you’d died in a ditch or something.” Max replied smoothly, Lando choked on his breath, he has no idea who Mathew is and why Charles and Max have this reaction to him, Mathew chuckles looking amused.
“Nice one.” Mathew runs his eyes over to the other two drivers, before they settle on Charles. “It’s been a while, Charles.”
”Not long enough.” Charles muttered, Charles is a nice person by nature, he’s never not nice but here he is Lando seeing him angry at a person for no reason that he knows of.
”Looks like getting into Formula 1 changed you.” Mathew gave them a condescending look and rolled his eyes.
“What do you want? Get on with it.” Charles said wanting this interaction to be over already, he doesn't know about Mathew turning up to the Hansson household and asking for his goddaughter.
”Same thing I asked for when I met Adeline, I want my daughter.” Mathew shrugged as if that’s the easiest most simplest thing ever, and he’s not asking for a daughter he left and knows nothing about.
”First, she’s not your daughter, second, it’s Mrs. Hansson to you, third, you better piss off and get out of our faces and our lives.” Max said and took a step closer, his tone was not to be taken lightly, Mad Max may be something of the past but when he’s pushed he’s right there. Lando then realised what’s going on, he realised who Mathew is. Charles also realises that Mathew went and asked for Nathalie, another reason for him to not be nice or kind to Mathew.
“Huh, no can do I’m afraid.” Mathew’s grin was gone, and the dark side of him came to the surface. “Look, just because you’re fucking her mother, doesnt make you her father, she’s mine, her DNA is half off mine.”
”And just because you donated your sperm doesnt make her yours.” They’re face to face now, both waiting for something small to put their hands on the other. “Where have you been the last 7 years? Before that when Cecilia was pregnant, where were you? I bet you were drunk off your ass sleeping with women, getting them pregnant before leaving them for someone else, how many children do you have running out there without a father? huh? A lot I bet, listen here Mathew, Nathalie is mine, and you better not ask for her or even think about her, because you’re never seeing her.”
“We’ll see when Cecilia sees me what she says about it, I bet she’ll just spread her-“ Max didn’t let him finish before he was swinging his fest and punching Mathew with all he got, in a second he was holding his shirt and swinging for another punch, Mathew took a moment to swing his fest. The other two drivers didn't have enough time to separate the two before they both landed a few punches in.
By the time they were pulled off each, Max's fist was bloody, his face bruised with a split lip. Both men were heaving, Charles pushed Mathew away making stumble and fall, but he didn't care, he helped Lando push and move Max away from the annoying Brit. 
“Come on, mate.” Lando stresses, Max is not cooperating with the two drivers, they have to use their full strength to pull him away from the sight of Mathew. Max is boiling with anger, Lando who came in with Max drives the dutchman's car while Charles follows in his Ferrari. 
When they reach the apartment Max opens the door and storms inside, he ignores Cecilia’s calls and everyone else and heads to the bedroom. Lando comes in followed by Charles, Cecilia’s standing there looking at them confused, Alex also looks confused but she stayed with Nattie on the living room floor playing with her barbies and their sports cars.
“What happened?” Cecilia asked her friends worried.
“Uh, we saw Mathew.” Charles says softly and her heart drops, she crosses her arms and shuffles her legs.
“They got in a fight.” Lando adds after a beat of silence.
“Fuck.” Cecilia mutters and pushes her hair back, stressing.
“Look, Cece, we can take Nattie for the day and you and Max can talk about it.” Charles offers and she turns to look at Nathalie before looking back at her friends, Lando gives her a nod and she sighs.
“If it's not too much trouble.” Cecilia place a hand on Charles arm in gratitude.
“Hey, she's my goddaughter.” Charles offers her a smile and pulls her in for a quick hug before he heads to the living room with an enthusiastic. “Who wants to have a sleepover at Charlie's house?”
“Mathew really said some stuff to piss Max off.” Lando told her and she wants to strangle Mathew, he came into their lives and is messing it up. “Max was angrier than I've ever seen him before… And that's saying a lot.”
“Thank you Lando.” Cecilia say and also gives him a hug. Charles is already helping Nattie pack an overnight bag. Cecilia says goodbye to your friends and daughter, Alex gives her a long hug before they head out.
Opening the door to their shared bedroom, the only source of light is from the windows, Max is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, his knuckles in his right hand are bruised and busted.
“Max.” Cecilia says and goes to sit by his side, her hand lands on his back, moving up and down. “Amour, please look at me.”
Max turned his head to look at her still leaning forwards, Cecilia grimaced when she saw his face, it’s already bruised. Cecilia went to the kitchen and got some ice before she rushed back, Max was sitting in the exact position he was when she left him, placing the ice on his cheek, the only reaction he gave her was closing his eyes.
”Mon amour, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Cecilia whispers her eyes filled with tears, her ex taunted Max, he hit him, Mathew is causing Max anguish and she feels guilty for it all.
”No, no, it’s not your fault, you don’t say sorry okay?” Max was out of his mind, he’s still so pissed off and the last thing he wants is for Cecilia to feel guilty in any way shape or form. “This is his fault, and his fault only. That asshole knew what he was doing.”
Tears gather in her eyes and she bites her bottom lip, her eyes focusing on the ice she's holding to Max’s face. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, they sit in silence for a few long minutes, there's so much emotion, the tension is high.
“Did Nattie go with them?” Max asked breaking the silence, Cecilia nods her head and Max removes the ice towel From his face gently taking her hands in his. “Come on.” He says so very softly, Max is always soft with her and Nattie but this is a different kind of soft. This is a scared man that's trying to be strong, this is a man that has so much on his shoulders and doesn't want to show it, that is a man has so much to lose. Max is vulnerable and he's trying not to show it, it is rare for him to be so vulnerable. Max leads Cecilia to the bathroom, once they're in their ensuite he turns the tab on in the huge tub they have facing the window. They're silent, Cecilia watches Max with intensity, her heart is beating fast in her chest, and Max still won't meet her eyes. So when he comes to stand in front of her Cecilia raises his chin with the tip of her fingers, and his eyes move up her figure until they meet her eyes. Their eyes meet and every thought, everything that Cecilia wanted to say is gone, she can't remember what she wanted to say. Max's blue eyes trap her, people always say that eyes are windows to the soul and she couldn't help but agree at this moment.
Max moves his hands down to the hem of her shirt and lefts it up, Cecilia says nothing just follows his lead and lefts her hands up to help him slip it off. He drops it to the floor, his eyes not leaving hers, his hands move to her jeans and unbutton them, he push them over her hips and they fall to the floor, Cecilia steps out of them, and stands there in her undwear and still Max doesn't look away from her face. Before he moves to her bra or panties he starts on his own clothes, he takes off his shirt in one fluid move and moves to his pants, Cecilia isn't as strong as Max her eyes drop to his chest for a moment before they go back to his face.
Max smiles a little and a blush covers Cecilia's face, Max's hands cup her face his thump rubbing her cheek softly. Max's hands run over her neck, shoulders and back until they reach the clasps of her bra which he undoes expertly, her bra falls on the floor between them, and Max's hands continue on their mission and move to her hips where they hock onto the tops of her panties and move down taking them with him. Cecilia once again steps out of them and Max takes off his boxers.
Max takes her hand softly and walks them to the bath he steps in and sits down, still holding her hand he helps her in. Cecilia settles in front of him and Max pulls her back, he leans back against the tub with Cecilia pressed into him. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath relaxing. 
Max is looking out the big window at the view the sun is sitting and the sea is right in front of them and he's reminded why he chose this house and why he pays a lot of money for it. For moments like this, where he's with the person he loves the most and they spend their times together.
They sit in the hot water in silence for a long time, but it doesn't feel awkward and it's not as intense as it was before, both have a lot on their minds, so many things could happen and they have to think about all the possibilities and what they'll do in each case. The silence is something that they needed, they just needed to be together in each other's presence, the comfort of having someone just sit there and hold you, and you don't have to say anything for them to understand what you're feeling.
A sudden thought popped in Cecilia's mind, and before she second guessed herself or give it much thought the words spilled from her mouth. "Do you believe in soulmates?"
"Soulmates? That's random." Max hummed his hands moving to her waist under the water, his thump rubbing softly at the skin. "No, I don't think they're real."
Maybe it was because he's a child of divorce, or maybe it's because he didn't realise right away that Cecilia is the one for him, but either way, he doesn't believe in them.
"I don't think they're real, at least not fully... but I feel like if there's ever soulmates, that you're mine."
Max moved his head to her shoulder and pulled her closer if that was even possible. Max presses his lips to her sweet spot, Cecilia closes her eyes once more, leaning her head back and to the side. Her hands move to his hair and she pulls slightly, Max whines, his lips find their way to her neck, kissing and sucking leaving his mark on her body, he’s everywhere, his hands are moving all over her, her breath catches in her throat, before she breathes his name like a mantra. “Max.”
After their time in the bathtub and the water has long since gone cold they get out, dry themselves and get dressed. Cecilia goes to the kitchen where she and Alex had ingredients out to make lunch, Cecilia puts everything back where it belongs, deciding to order something for her and Max.
”Schatje!” Max calls coming out of the bedroom.
”In the kitchen.” She calls back and Max comes in phone in hand.
"My team just called me, a video of what happened today was posted online.” Cecilia moved to his side and looks at his phone, a shaky video is playing but there’s no mistaken that it’s the three F1 drivers and her ex, she sees Max throwing the first punch and the fight that happens after that, Mathew’s face is clear and it’ll take no time before it’s public knowledge who he is and how they once dated.
”Our PR teams will not like what’s about to happen.” Cecilia mutters.
”They’ll have to deal with it.” Max knows they’re in trouble but there’s not much they can do. What’s done is done and there’s nothing you can do about it. 
“Love the I don’t give a fuck mindset.” Cecilia says and squeezes his cheeks with one hand. “What are we having for dinner?”
”Can we have tomato soup and whatever you want?” 
“Sure thing.” Cecilia said kissed his cheek and picked her phone to order, they were planning to have a chill night just the two of them and the leaked video isn’t about to change that.
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The next two days, things were crazy online, but their day to day life was quite everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.
Fans(also known as detectives) find out who Mathew was, they also find pictures of a young Cecilia with Mathew and have deducted that they were dating once upon a time, and it wasn’t long before rumours of him being Nathalie’s dad were all over social media, conspiracy theories, comparison pictures and everything in between. It all came to a head when Mathew released a statement, Cecilia’s world turned upside down.
“Ceceilia and I used to date when she was still in F3 and before that, we were the young couple with the world ahead of us, and for a small mistake I've made she's refused me my daughter and named another man her father, I wasn't given the chance to know my girl to see her grow up or to hear her call me daddy, in fact now I'm subjected to hearing her call another man daddy. I personally find it unfair and unjust.”
“What the actual fuck is wrong with him.” Laurent was pissed off, he didn't care about the look his mother gave him for cursing, the family was gathered for a get together during the winter break and Mathew just decided to ruin it like he's been doing lately. “I want to punch him so bad.”
“You're not the only one.” Max muttered, the kids were playing in the game room Cecilia's mum had made for her grandkids, so the adults were speaking freely.
“Börje what about his father, you said you could talk to him.” Adeline asked her husband, worried sick for her daughter and granddaughter.
“I've left a massage with his secretary, but they haven't heard from them.” Börje was not happy, he wasn't happy at all. He usually left his daughter to do as she pleases deal with everything the way she liked but this is a step too far.
“And his family, are you sure they'll help?” Max asked, he's the only one who never met them, and he only knows the little that came up while talking with Ceceilia.
“If they care about their company.” The threat was clear in Börje's voice.
“I'm afraid he won't though.” Cecilia mutters and they all turn to look at her. “I mean, I think I know how Mathew is, and I have a feeling that he's not on good terms with his family, he's not the kind of person to make news like that knowing it'll get back to his family and they wouldn't be pleased with him.”
Cecilia looks at Max by her side, he doesn't know anything about her relationship with Mathew or how their dynamic worked , he didn’t know how close she and Mathew were, she planned her life with him and then she got pregnant and all those dreams flew out the window. Max takes her hand and squeezes it.
”We’ll figure it out.” Börje said and took out his phone to try and contact his family again the Walkers were very famous and very big in the UK but they need the Hanssons to function, for their businesses to not fail.
It was only over an hour later that Börje got a call back. Cecilia and Max were on the blconey talking, Laurent and his wife were checking on the kids so he was with Adeline. A lengthy phone call between Börje and Mathew’s dad, Börje was told the inner workings of the family recently, the problems Mathew has been causing. David, Mathew’s dad, had no idea about Nattie, he had no idea he had a granddaughter out there and he did say that if he knew that he would’ve made Mathew stay and take accountability. Börje told him that this is why he didn’t inform him, his daughter and granddaughter didn’t need a father that’s forced to be there.
”Go get Cecilia and Max.” Adeline went and got the couple.
”What did they say papa?” Cecilia asked taking a seat across from her father, her hands rubbing her thighs trying to self comfort herself.
”You were right, Mathew is in trouble with his dad, he made a big mess at a board meeting and has been on the sidelines for a few months, and as a way to get back at his dad he’s been causing a lot of trouble.” Börje told them. “They’ll try to talk to him but there’s no guarantee it’ll work.”
”So we’re on our own then.” Cecilia stated she leaned back and sighed.
”Don’t lose hope yet, mon ange.” Adeline said and took Cecilia’s other side she pulled her in for a hug, kissing her forehead.
”Either way he can’t take her from us.” Max said, putting his hand on Cecilia’s knee.
”Max is right, the lawyers said there’s no way, unless you’re the worst mother there is, there’s no way for a court to give Mathew any rights.” Börje said.
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Nathalie went to a friend’s house for a play date, and when Cecilia and Max went to pick her up to go out for dinner she looked upset.
”Thalia, what’s wrong liefje?” Max asked looking at Nathalie in the rare review mirror.
”Can we go home?” The frown on her face didn’t move, her lips pouting. 
“You don’t want to eat out?” Cecilia asked concerned, Nattie shakes her head no. “Of course, mon amour, we’ll go home.”
Max and Cecilia share worried looks but say nothing. The ride home is much tenser than it was on the way to drop her off earlier in the day.
Nattie ignores her parents from the car to the apartment, and was planning to just head to her room, but her mum wasn’t about to let her.
”Nattie, please come, we have to talk.” Cecilia calls for her daughter before she could escape. Nattie looks at her mum before her eyes go to Max. “Do you want to talk just you and me? Or you can talk to daddy-“
Before Cecilia could finish, Nathalie was already in tears. Sobs leaving her body shaking, she was practically wailing. It surprised both her parents and they both sprung into action, heading to their girl. Cecilia had her in her arms first, and Nattie clutched her shirt tightly in her hands, hiding her face in Cecilia’s shirt.
”What’s wrong, liefje?” Max whispers trying to see Nattie’s face but she just hid more into Cecilia. “Do you want me to go?”
”NO!” She shouts and turns from Cecilia to look at him stomping her leg, this took both the drivers by surprise, Nathalie is rarely difficult, she’s never thrown a tantrum without any reason, whether they agreed with the reason or not is a different subject.
”Nathalie!” Cecilia scolded her daughter but it only brought more tears. “What’s wrong mon amour? Please just tell us, so we can help you.”
”I-I- I don’t want to have another daddy.” Nathalie said looking up at you, her hands were back to clutching Cecilia’s shirt, she was begging her now.
”What?” Cecilia whispered. “Okay, let’s sit down and talk, okay?” They moved to the sofa, Max squeezed Cecilia’s hand in comfort before they sat down with Nathalie in between them.
”What are you talking about, mon ange? Max is your daddy.” Cecilia pushed Nathalie’s hair out of her face, looking at her red face wet from all the tears.
”Laura said that I’m going to have another daddy, but I don’t want him, I only want Maxie, he’s my daddy, Laura said that you’re going to make another man my daddy, and I don’t want it, I just want daddy, I just want him.” Max couldn’t help but pull Nathalie softly away from Cecilia and into his arms, the girl instantly hugged him, her hands wrapping around his neck and clutching his shirt, and the tears continued to flow.
”You’re my baby girl, and that’s never going to change, yeah?” Max said softly patting her back, Cecilia was fighting tears herself, she felt so bad for not talking to Nathalie about it but she just never thought she’d find out through her friend, they’ve all been so good at keeping her away from all the drama. “You’re my liefje, you’re my daughter, the one I love the most and there’s no changing that, as long as you want me, I’ll always be your dad.”
”Please don’t leave me.” Nathalie whispered her sobs have calmed, but she was still tearing up.
”I won’t, I promise.” 
Nathalie hadn’t let go of Max until she fell asleep, Cecilia debated walking her up for dinner but seeing how exhausted Nathalie looked she just let her sleep. Max placed her in her bed, while Cecilia waited for him in their bedroom. They seem to mean there a lot lately to just talk about everything Mathew related.
Max sits next to Cecilia, their shoulders brushing.
”She looked so heartbroken.” Cecilia whispered, there’s a lump in her throat and it seemed to be choking her slowly.
”Yeah… we need to solve this as fast as possible.” Max sighed and closed his eyes to think, there has to be a way to get rid of Mathew for good. He’s doing all this for attention from the public, to get back at his parents, and to just ruin their lives. Mathew must’ve known that there’s no way he’d get Nathalie, he’s the one that signed the papers. He’s the one that disappeared, he’s the one that’s been seen hanging around women in Monaco since he’s been back in the country. “Do you have a copy of the papers?”
”What papers?” 
“The ones he signed his rights away.”
”Yeah, papa, has the original ones, but I have a copy, why?”
”I’m going to need them.”
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It took a week before Mathew released another statement.
”My family has come in contact with me after they shunned me months ago, and I was happy, maybe they wanted to come in contact with me again, but they just wanted to keep their pockets filled with Hansson money and asked me leave my girl, to not care about her and to move on.
Well, to that I say fuck you, fuck you all, I’m taking this to court, I’m going to have my daughter back, I want part of the custody, I want her to know who her father is, I have the rights, and I’m not backing down.”
Not even 15 minutes later team Max Verstappen released a statement.
”It’s sad for Max and Cecilia, to have intimate parts of their private life so out to the public, not for them but for Nathalie. They want to inform everyone that Mathew has no rights to Nathalie, as he signed his rights away in the early stages of Cecilia’s pregnancy and has never tried to come in contact with her since. He’s not on the birth certificate or any other document. Thus, he will not be able to take Cecilia to court. We’ve included a picture of the documents he signed to give his parental rights away, furthermore we’ve done our own research and discovered that Mathew has many children out there in the world that he’s never seen or come in contact with. That’s all the couple is willing to say, thank you for understanding and please give the family time to deal with what has happened. See you on track!”
“This is why you wanted the papers?” Cecilia asked coming into the sim room, with her phone in her hands, she’s amused, she’s happy and she’s relieved.
”He had it coming.” Max said not looking away from his sim.
”How did you find out about other women?” Cecilia asked confused, Max shrugged.
”Hired a private investigator.”
”Wow, remind me not to get on your bad side.” Cecilia joked and giggled.
”Couldn’t do that even if you tried.” Max said simply and the smile on her face grew.
”Really?” She raised an eyebrow and Max hummed. “Even if I do this?”
Cecilia dropped on his lap ending his perfect lap, Max’s hands instinctively left the wheel to land on her hips to steady her.
”Even if you do this.”
”What about if I do this?” She asked and leaned close so her face was millimetre away from his.
”Even then.”
”What about this?” She presses her lips to his, Max pulls her closer. She’s driving him crazy, his hand is at the back of her head holding her head just how he likes it, making her moan into the kiss.
”Especially this.” Max manages to get out between kisses, his voice already sounding out of breath.
Later that day with the couple getting ready to head to bed, Max comes up behind Cecilia who sat at her vanity doing her skincare routine. His arms find their place on her shoulders before they move down her arms to her elbows and then to her waist, he pulls her up just enough for him to slip under her and she’s sitting on his lap. All the while she’s just continuing with what she was doing, Max places his head on her shoulder and looks at her through the mirror.
”You’re so touchy today.” Cecilia teased Max lightheartedly.
”Says the one that came in and kissed me and then lured me into sex.” Max smirks enjoying the blush that covered her cheeks, he loves how he still gets her to blush like that.
”Well, I don’t remember you not liking it.” Cecilia manages to say.
”No I certainly liked it.” Max mumbles and kisses her shoulder, before he’s back at looking at her.
”What’s up?”
”Nothing, I’m just happy, we’re together.” Max said softly and Cecilia smiles at him through the mirror.
”Me too, more than anything.” Cecilia replied just as softly. “Did I mention how much I find it sexy when you fight for me and Nattie?”
“You can’t love someone and not fight for them, being with you and loving you, makes me want to fight everyone and everything that bothers you.” Max’s tone is serious, an opposite to Cecilia’s teasing one. 
“And I’d do the same… but somehow everyone is already scared of you.” Cecilia giggles at the unamused look Max gives her, at the sound of her giggles, her hugs her closer and smiles.
”Come on, I’m done.”
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Mathew drops off the face of the earth after the statement from Max, a few women came online and posted videos of their own experience with Mathew, all having his children. The one good thing that came out of him going public, is that his family is now sending money to those women who have Mathew’s children and are struggling financially. They of course disowned him and released a statement saying they had no knowledge of his doings and they’re no longer associated with him.
But the biggest fuck you came on Cecilia’s instagram…
ceciliahansson15 
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Tagged, maxverstappen1
liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel, and 4,345,356 others
ceciliahansson15 Guess I’m the only non-Verstappen in the house from now on 🤷‍♀️
view all 902,234 comments
username1 the plot twist
username2 I can’t ☠️
username3 say what again????
username4 honestly you go max claming your daughter as you should 👏
username78 as he should 🙇‍♀️
username98 max winning on and off the track
username09 next step, we’ll have 2 verstappens on track 👀 
username26 pop the question and dont be a pussy max 💍
username37 i think he’s droves he’s not a pussy, bro claimed her daughter and gave her his last name before he even proposed 
lewishamilton gongrats sending you all love 💐
ceciliahansson15 thank you lew 🫶
charles_leclerc you know i’m still her favourite right?
maxverstappen1 don’t know about that mate
charles-leclerc want me to call 😏 
maxverstappen1 NO!
charles_leclerc I rest my case
ceciliahansson15 🙄
Usename48 I love how they like to use Insta to just say f you to everyone
Username229 seriously instagram should give them money over all the interactions it's getting them
Taglist:
@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader . @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 . @skynel09 . @barcelonaloverf1life . @lilipiggytails . @rebelatbay . @christianpulisic10 . @ironmaiden1313 . @dark-night-sky-99 . @amalialeclerc . @bborra . @allsouls-emma . @buckybarns4life . @distancedss . @xoscar03 . @aquangxl . @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy . @theseerbetweenus .
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retro-quant · 9 months ago
Text
For ModMad | Hero and RGB
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You could consider this a love letter to @modmad art. Or rather a huge thank you to how much they’ve helped me during my art journey.
I first found out about your art in 2015, when I was barely drawing and it felt like hell. It gave me the motivation I then lacked, and I’ve learnt so much since then it feels like another life. Yet again I keep coming back to your comic, and to your art account, every other month or so. It’s as incredible as it always was. Even if I’m not in the object head fandom anymore and I barely use Tumblr. I drew a lot of fanart back then, but I’d rather forget about it as it wasn’t that good 😭. So yeah, I just wanted to sketch you something nice this time and let you know that you’ve changed my life and the way I draw forever. TPOH will always be something special to me because that’s where my art journey started.
Thank you and i hope you’ll see this!
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 7 days ago
Note
Some royals shop on their own. Back in 2011-12 I bumped into catherin at Bicester village twice. Once in April/may 2012, then later sometime towards sept/oct (I think). Couldnytell what she was buying, but vaguely remember that one was a fancy shop, the other time it was regular clothes like us and it was same shop I was getting into.
Till 2015/16 she used to shop quite regularly at Oxford highstreet as well. I've seen her at the Topshop, the Zara and once just before Christmas (when surprising noone noticed her or bothered her, but this may be way back 2013 for all I remember).
I was once at a Debenhams where the lady next to me said she was the assistant standing outside while someone was picking out clothes for Sophie. Back then I had no idea who Sophie was so the shopgirl told me she was a royal. I asked if was for something fancy, and the assistant said no, they just pick good deals when they see it.
Seen Bea out and about shipping on her own quite a bit too. But again, I left the UK in 2016, so don't know the latest.
Knew this guy once upon a time who said the men usually shop from certain shops at Jermyn street. Charles has his favorite shoe and suits guy. He gets his shirts made there. The one who made his shoes way back in the 80s still repairs them. William now has a preference for the same for formal wear and shoes. Remember Williams (infamous) desert boots? Yup, from Jermyn street. Bespoke. Now George has them too.
Wow, great info, anon!
I love that they get a chance to do their own shopping. I bet they feel it normalizes them a little, especially the married-in’s like Sophie and Kate.
I’m still curious about how they shop when they can’t do it themselves. I know that when there’s a royal wedding, the palace will solicit sketches and designers will send options, so I wonder if it’s like that all the time too. Like Kate has a James Bond premiere, does Natasha call up the designers and ask for options or is Kate browsing websites to find her own options?
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dpr-stay · 1 year ago
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Through the years | D.K
Doh Kyungsoo x f1driver!Reader
Warnings: Swears, a lot of crack
WC: 9.1k (ik, kill me now)
Howdy Cowpeople! This one is... hefty. This wasn’t supposed to be as long as it was but when I get in a groove... I think I made it obvious but I just wanted it to be over L O L. This one is pretty niche, but hopefully it can be enjoyed by both sides as it is a driver!reader.
(I didn't edit this, whoops)
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2015
“Can you explain this picture?” The reporter asks, hovering in front of you with a phone in hand. The crappy quality is amplified as they have zoomed into the point where the picture is unrecognizable. You squint your eyes to see it and can’t make out quite what they’re trying to show.
“Sorry, w-what is that?” You ask, drawing back and squinting your eyes, resisting the urge to close them from exhaustion. Whoever decided it would be a good idea to do interviews after nearly 100 continuous laps in some barely held together race car with no break was a sadist. No other explanation.
“Oh! It’s a picture of you in a car with a guy.” The reporter said eagerly and shoved the phone your way. You briefly looked at the camera, an unimpressed look on your face, before turning back to the phone and squinting again.
You paused for a minute and drew back, your face still scrunched up, and exhaled.
“Nahhhhhh.” The drew out word left your mouth.
The reporter’s head tilted and they frowned.
“But it is! It’s you in Seoul after the Japanese Grand Prix!” He continued, looking very determined. You plastered a confused expression on your face.
“I’ve never been to Seoul before.” His face dropped and he turned back to his phone, as though trying to rationalize what he was hearing.
“Have you just taken a picture of… two random people in a car? To me it honestly doesn’t even look like anything cause it’s so zoomed in but to each their own.” You finished your words with a shrug.
“No, my source told me that that was 100% you! They said they saw you get in the car at the airport.” He continued on, undeterred by your flat disregard.
“I hate to say it, your contact’s wrong. I’ve never even set foot in the country.” You shrugged before turning to your PR manager who was gesturing for you to leave, with rather forceful movements. That was to clue you in that you were in trouble. With her personally or with the boss man, you didn’t know.
“Lovely to see you again, though.” You smiled and held your hand over. The interviewer tentatively took it and you exchanged good-byes before you turned around and left to go onto more interviews. The glance you exchanged with your PR manager told you that you were lucky you had not been caught out on your multiple lies and you heaved a sigh of relief to yourself.
Being the only female driver in a heavily male dominated sport was incredibly stressful. Add to that the eyes of reporters trying to find you doing anything remotely weird to spin it into a scandal and you had a lot of things to worry about. Especially since you had just started a relationship with a highly coveted Kpop singer which you were determined to keep under wraps.
You both had a bet running with each other. The first person to reveal the relationship would lose. There was no consequence but your pride, something which both of you had a bit too much of.
And so, a game was born. It simultaneously made you more careful of revealing your relationship while also making it a fun game.
This also meant that you had to start constantly lying to reporters to get out of tricky situations. Surely nothing bad could ever come from this.
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2016: 
“How does it feel to be a key contender for the championship?” Asked a reporter, directing it to, of course, Lewis Hamilton, who was sat beside Daniel in a panel of drivers. You were sat on the other side of Daniel, the small desk in front of you reaching for miles on either side.
As Lewis gave the carbon copy response that he had given to every interviewer so far, Daniel leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“I’m surprised they haven’t called him out on that yet.” He then reached for his plastic water bottle and took a sip. You considered this for a second before leaning to his side and answered, not turning your face from the crowd of reporters.
“I’m surprised they haven’t called you out on your disgusting trim.” He jolted forward at this unprompted attack on his hair and the choking sound he emanated drew attention from all in the room, all watching him with curious eyes as he tried to regain his breath.
“You alright mate?” Lewis asked, one of his eyebrows arching.
“Y-yeah I’m fine.” Daniel replied, waving his hand, eager to have attention off of his spluttering. It took a while but eventually all the cameras were aimed back at Lewis, so Daniel took the opportunity to elbow you hard in the side, your reaction being to topple off your chair dramatically. Usually one for the dramatics, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Daniel want the cameras off him so much. 
Hidden behind a small desk, you could only hear the questioning tones calling out your name and see Daniel’s slightly panicked face urging you to get up and back on your chair. With one single hand, you reached for the desk and slowly pulled yourself up.
You released a deep breath as you hauled yourself into your seat and turned to face the crowd of reporters who were looking at you. With a grand hand gesture, you motioned for them to continue with their interviews and turned slightly to Daniel with a smile. He shot you back an exasperated glance before your name was called from the crowd of reporters. You looked towards the reporter and he began speaking.
“So, as you’re the only female on the grid I feel the need to ask, if you could date any of the drivers, who would it be?” The eager face he had contrasted with your entirely unimpressed face. You could hear Daniel begin to start speaking and you could feel the defensive energy emanating from the rest of the drivers on the panel, but before any of them could interrupt with scathing criticism about the misogyny that permeated the question, you replied to the reporter.
“Literally none of them, I’d rather die.” Your response was met with general silence before Daniel started laughing as usual.
“Really? You wouldn’t fancy any of them?” The reporter asked, almost in disbelief.
“No!” You said almost equally in disbelief.
“I’m fine with what I have at home!” You added on after a second.
“Are you saying you’re in a relationship???” The reporter was on the edge of his seat, others shoving their microphones and cameras trying to get a good shot. You dramatically pondered that for a second before replying.
“I wouldn’t say that, I just have other things at home.” You said that and then leaned back, shrugged, and didn’t say anything else into the mic even at the reporters continual uproar as they took in the implications of that statement.
You, luckily, were able to avoid the increasingly weird questions by just not answering and smiling. You weren’t as lucky to miss the smirks thrown your way by the other drivers.
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2017:
“It doesn’t count!” You said in disbelief, aiming it at the microphone of your phone.
“Mmm I’d say it counts.” Kyungsoo replied back teasingly, his voice echoing into your AirPods. 
“You can’t go back on your word!! You said it was fine last year!” You were sitting at a table in your company's hospitality, having a conversation with Kyungsoo on the phone, blissfully unaware of the interviews going on outside the building which had a clear view into the small area. 
“Yeah but it’s been two years, one of us has to call it quits soon.” Your face contorted before Kyungsoo quickly amended his statement.
“The bet! The bet! Sorry, that came out the wrong way.” 
You just shook your head, a small smile growing on your lips.
“You bastard, you had me a little worried.” He scoffed in response. He had been speaking quietly into the phone as he was hiding in a closet in the SM building, taking a break from practice to talk to you. A true charmer.
“As if.” He replied shortly, a loud scuffling heard on his side.
“One second.” He said, as a banging sound came through into your headphones.
“Come on Hyung! Get off the phone and come back before someone else finds you!” Kai’s voice could be heard through the door. A pause before the banging started again.
“Also tell her I said hello!” You giggled at the younger man’s words and Kyungsoo’s sigh in response.
“I’ll call you after the race, do your best, I love you.” Kyungsoo muttered into his phone before shouting back to Kai something about respect and to shut up. It just made you laugh more.
“I love you too, practice well and I’ll call you soon.” You finally said in response after the yelling died down.
“Bye.” He said before quickly tacking on another “love you” and then he hung up.
After he hung up you just stared at your screen for a second with a smile you would 100% not call radiant on your face. It was quickly wiped off when your PR manager popped up out of nowhere and started talking about interviews, causing you to switch to English as you stood up and followed him.
However, the interview still captured your little moment and the conversation preluding it. You knew this because, when you went back to your phone after the race, Baekhyun had sent you a picture of your smile through the tinted glass with a smirking emoji as well as a picture of Kyungsoo on the floor in the closet in the dark talking to you on the phone, not to mention the hounding you got at the next press conference.
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2018:
You knew it was risky to do a live in your own apartment, especially since you were in a completely different country than where you were claiming you were.
But your PR team wanted you to do it, and you couldn’t exactly tell them no, even if you were currently lying to them about your circumstances. You were a bit worried that something unexplainable might happen like the South Korean national anthem suddenly blaring but what you weren’t worried about was the person who you were living with coming back and interrupting your live.
Kyungsoo was at practice and, while you were ok with him skipping it to talk to you on the phone, you didn’t want him to skip it now, as you had been promised a few days without any interruption if he went to every practice. So he was at practice and you were fulfilling all your expected PR duties for the next couple of days, which included the live.
Regardless of your hesitations, you set up your phone on your coffee table facing the entrance to your home and sat on the couch before turning on the live. Immediately people joined, flooding the chat and making your phone vibrate.
“Uhhh hello everyone.” You awkwardly greeted as you tried to think of things to say. Kyungsoo would be fantastic at this, you couldn’t help but think, always having to do live’s with his members.
“How’s everyone’s days been?” You settled on and watched the responses roll into the chat. You noticed a few drivers had joined your live and even a few of the boys from F2 and F3 were watching, which you thought was pretty nice of them considering it was mainly you rambling for around 30 minutes.
Your manager wanted you to do an hour minimum for the live and the time seemed to stretch for years, you continuously making small talk and occasionally replying to comments. You even snuck in a few jokes for the other drivers before, around the 55 minute mark, a sound came from your end.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you wondered where the noise was coming from, looking around the apartment. Quickly standing up, you looked around the apartment, making a lighthearted joke about ghosts as you nervously tried to find the origin of the sound.
You realised that sound was the wrong key being put in the lock as soon as you registered the sound of the correct key being put in.
As Kyungsoo opened the door, you made the biggest leap you think you have ever made. It would’ve had to have been around 4 meters surely. Somehow you had leapt onto the coffee table, knocking your phone down. Kyungsoo was staring at you weirdly as you violently gestured at him to shush. He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you ok?” He asked, his deep voice sounding as lovely as ever. You took a second, contemplating your options in this circumstance before coming to a logical conclusion.
You started to scream.
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!” Kyungsoo’s face shifted to one of confusion as yours was full of desperation.
“YOU CRAZY PSYCHO! GET OUT!!” You continued to yell in perfect English, a contrast from his peaceful question, and gestured for Kyungsoo to close the door, which he did, albeit very confused.
As soon as he closed the door, you maneuvered yourself so that you weren’t facing him and quickly picked up your phone from underneath you.
“Oh my god, what just happened.” You said, showing the camera your roof. You picked up the phone and started fidgeting with it.
“‘Are you ok?’ Yeah I’m fine, I just gotta figure out how to change the locks. I’ll uh.. I’ll get back to you guys. See you later.” You said absentmindedly, as you ended the live.
You paused for a second, sat back on your heels, and sighed, staring up at the roof. The sound of footfalls reached your ears and you didn’t react when Kyungsoo placed a hand on your shoulder.
“I’m not losing this bet.” You mumbled, staring at the ground. An incredulous laugh left him at that as he reached his hand further and brought your face to look at him. A smile that there was no other way to describe but goofy was spread across his face.
“You’re still thinking of that?” He asked and you nodded.
“I take our bet very seriously.” You said before he slightly shook his head, gave you a kiss on the forehead, and moved towards the kitchen.
You picked yourself up and moved to the dining table as he started work in the kitchen. And, as he made a delicious dinner that you both enjoyed, you started to field off your PR team asking who was in your house and ignoring the comments wondering why the guy was speaking Korean in the middle of England.
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2019: 
It was approximately ten minutes before you had to be in the car and ready to go, and you were half-way there. You had your fireproofs and race suit on and you were being herded towards your car by a crowd of engineers. Strategies and specifics were being directed at you and you could only nod and act as though you were absorbing what they were saying.
Even after four years on the job some people felt they just couldn’t rely on you. Honestly, they should just let you do your thing, you knew what you were doing. 
No! God, ever since Kyungsoo had joined the military you’d been irritable and quick to anger on the track. Your poor engineers were trying their best to get through to you, likely because they wanted to keep their jobs, but you’d been incredibly closed off since after you got back from the honeymoon. 
Oh yeah, you got married. During a break and right before Kyungsoo was scheduled to start his enlistment, you got married down in a small courthouse with only a few people from either side. You had your family, a few close friends, and a few drivers while Kyungsoo had his family, a few close friends, and the whole of EXO.
It was very emotional and intimate, but that was how you’d describe your relationship so you were very happy with it. You were also extremely happy with the week get-away in the middle of nowhere in New Zealand that followed after, a week of people not recognising both you, farmers markets, and sheep. Lot’s of sheep.
But ever since he’d flown off to do his duty to his country (and shaved his head, no one should look that good with a shaved head) and you’d flown to your next race, you’d been incredibly… angry.
You didn’t know if it had to do with not seeing Kyungsoo for the better part of two years or having that split immediately after the wedding, but what you did know was that it was affecting your racing so you had to snap out of it.
Being dragged back to the present you quickly hopped in the car and performed all of your checks on the steering wheel and adjusted things while people flitted around outside the car, adjusting things and making sure the car was in proper state.
After a quick radio check, the call to start up for the formation lap (you were in P11 after a pretty dodgy qualifying) was relayed and all around you could hear car’s engines coming to life. You glanced at your engineers and snapped down your visor at their nod, starting the car.
Before you pressed the throttle something quickly came to mind. You rapidly gestured for one of your engineers to come close to you, incredibly conscious of all the cars revving around you. The poor engineer almost sprinted to you as you started to fiddle with the zip of your racesuit, the gloves you were wearing prohibiting you from unzipping it.
The engineer's face was comically concerned and he slowly reached forwards before you looked up and grabbed his outreached hand. His face immediately went to one of shock as you made his hand grab the zip and unzip the front part of the suit.
Choosing to ignore the cameras capturing this interaction you continued unzipping it till it lay around your collarbones, hoping the cameras don’t catch any of your naked shoulders. The engineer's face then relaxed as he saw the necklace around your neck and he quickly reached in, almost leaning over the car, to move your necklace around your neck till the latch was in front of him.
He cautiously unlatched the necklace before zipping up your race suit. You immediately relaxed as the pressure around your neck was relieved. Before he could retreat back to the crowd of engineers, you grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding your necklace and slapped it appreciatively with your other hand.
He retreated as you powered up the car and started to move it forwards, letting all the cars that needed to go before go before you started to move. 
Your team radio started up as you were leaving the pit lane.
“You all had us very confused there.” Your race engineer said as you started your cruise around the track. 
“Yeah, sorry I completely forgot about it. But I thought it was better to take it off.” You said, pressing down on the throttle. 
“He better not lose that though. I want that back at the end of the race.” You subtly threatened, suddenly thinking of the rings that were attached to the necklace. You hoped that maybe the cameras hadn’t seen your wedding and engagement rings but you knew there was no chance they hadn’t not captured it. Oh well.
“I don’t know if you’ll get it back by the end of the race.” Your engineer said, her tone almost sarcastic. 
“What’s that mean?” You asked, letting the car cruise.
“You’ll probably be killed by your PR team first.” She said bluntly. So bluntly it made you laugh. 
“I’ve got a race to focus on.” You reminded her, leaving out the part that you had a race to think of an excuse as to why you have two rings attached to a necklace around your neck.
And you did think of an excuse, wearing the necklace proudly during post-race interviews and saying it was a family heirloom that had been passed on to you by your grandma whenever you were questioned about it.
The moment still went viral though, people questioning the relationship between you and the engineer. It went viral enough to that you had to suffer through teasing by Daniel and his accomplice Max Verstappen (you didn’t know how the kid knew you were married but you suspected it had something to do with an annoying Australian) not to mention the shit being talked in the EXO group chat you were in.
I mean seriously, all of those guys are millionaires, does Chen have nothing else to do with his time than bully the wife of his bandmate?
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2020: (sorry Alex)
Somehow you got signed to RedBull on a year contract. Not to say you weren’t grateful for the opportunity but you were definitely a bit confused. But anyway, you let bygones be bygones and now you had a 22 year-old dutch nuisance under your wing.
He was a great kid but god, was he traumatized. You were convinced he’d never seen a healthy family dynamic, so you were more than happy to let him see how you and Kyungsoo functioned. Or at least how you functioned when he was not in the military.
You kind of felt like a life coach for the kid, telling him when he was being taken advantage of or when he should continue with something. You’d been woken up plenty of times in the middle of the night by him drunkenly whining into the phone about wanting to go “home”, something neither of you commented on when he woke up on your couch the next day.
So, safe to say, you’d practically adopted a child without the permission of your husband.
This extended to on the track as well, you’d gotten into a few mild disagreements with Jos Verstappen after his cruel comments which often involved you looking at him angrily and him shit-talking you in interviews about you being a woman. You’d often have to refrain from saying that you’d always be more of a man than him, but alas, you didn’t want to get kicked from your seat.
You knew that Max was extremely appreciative of your dynamic, even commenting on it a few times during interviews, saying that he was very happy to have you as a teammate. After that interview you almost felt like you and his lover, Daniel, were able to give him some sort of an idea of what a normal family relationship should look like.
This sentiment was definitely reinforced when a loud knocking on your Monaco apartment door happened in the early afternoon. It was a weekend with no race, so you were soaking in relaxation. You were having a nice bubble bath after having read for the whole morning, so you were hesitant to hop out of the bath. 
The knocking persisted however, and with a sigh, you got out of the bath and wrapped a bathrobe around you before loudly yelling you’d be a minute. You tugged on some sweats which weren’t yours and put your hair in a towel before eventually making your way to the door. 
You might’ve taken more than a minute, but it didn’t matter when you opened the door and were greeted with the image of Max Verstappen on his knees, face pressed into the expensive hallway carpet. What a sight to see, the prodigy and most highly anticipated driver of his time, lying face-first on the floor.
“What the fuck?” You asked, immediately crouching down to his level after a quick glance to see that none of your neighbors had left their apartments to check on the banging (pretentious, self-concerned people). 
You rolled him over, your confusion doubling as you took in the remorseful look etched across the young man's face, almost tripling as you took in the barely concealed tears in his eyes. Your heart ached though and you pulled him up so that he was sitting on his knees.
“I’m so sorry.” He muttered as your face contorted in confusion. What had happened? “Come inside Max.” You said quietly, helping him up from his spot on the floor and leading him inside, locking the door after you both. Leading him to the couch, you left him after putting the throw blanket over his shoulders, and went to make both of you a tea.
You noticed your phone constantly vibrating on your kitchen counter and quickly chucked it on do not disturb, not checking the notifications because you were more concerned with your teary teammate. 
After grabbing the teas you made your way to the couch, setting them down on coasters on the coffee table, before sitting on the edge of the ‘L’ piece of the couch, so you were facing Max. You grabbed his hand from his lap where he had been nervously picking at his nail beds.
“What’s wrong Max?” You asked calmly, bringing his hand to your lap to stop him from hurting himself. He looked up at you, a few tears having rolled down his cheeks. 
Whatever had happened had fucked him up. You didn’t think it was a fight with his dad, he’d sadly become pretty unresponsive to those. You briefly considered him losing his seat but shook that off, he was doing exceptionally well. 
Maybe you’d lost your seat and he was sent to deliver the news. That would make more sense, especially as your phone was blowing up. You hadn’t been performing very well, but you didn’t think they’d drop you from your seat midway through the season, especially during a season as turbulent as this one.
It was the only reason that made sense though, so you prepared yourself for the news that you would be unemployed. Maybe you’d go back to F2 or maybe IndyCar? Or you could just move to South Korea and live there permanently, letting Kyungsoo fulfill his passion for acting and singing while you did a few kart races to occasionally quench your thirst for adrenaline. 
That actually didn’t sound too bad, though you’d definitely have to discuss it with Kyungsoo when he got back from enlistment, which meant around 5 months of unemployment. But hey, you had the money and so did Kyungsoo.
Max snapped you from your thoughts of the future by clearing his throat.
“You don’t know?” He asked, curiously glancing up at you. You furrowed your eyebrows.
“No…” You said, conveying your confusion. “Should I?” 
“Have you checked your phone recently?” Yep, you were definitely getting fired. You should probably start packing now. Maybe Daniel could get his seat back? You shook your head in response to his quiet question.
“I’ve just been reading all morning.” Max nodded, a small ‘ah’ leaving his mouth as he stared at the floor. He reached for his tea, his hand leaving your lap. You narrowed your eyes at that, following his movements as he sipped, a gasp immediately leaving his throat as he burnt it.
You immediately cussed and sprung up from your couch to grab a glass of cold water, running back to the couch and giving it to Max, watching as he gulped down the glass. When he finished he turned back to you and thanked you, before pausing for a second and bursting into another round of tears. You placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re really freaking me out Max. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You asked gently, trying to make him catch your eye.
“Promise you won't hate me?” His small voice asked and you internally crumpled at his vulnerable question. Honestly you never thought you’d end up gentle-parenting a teammate like he was a child of yours, especially since you were only like 5 years older than him, but here you were, caring for him like family.
“Yes, I won’t hate you Max.” You repeated as he finally caught your eye. He took a deep breath before starting to speak.
“I was doing an interview for the press and they started asking questions about other drivers and my relationship to them. They then asked about you and I said that I’m really close to you and etcetera.” Ok, seems pretty normal so far. At least you weren’t getting fired, hopefully.
“And they asked if I see you more as a mother figure or a romantic interest.” He said before quickly turning his eyes away. This confused you before you clued in.
“Oh Max.” You said quietly and he turned back to you. “I’m flattered you feel that way but I am married and I am loyal-”
“No, no, no!” He said, louder than he’d ever spoken in the time since he was on the floor. His cheeks had turned bright red as he looked in your eyes.
“No, I didn’t say that I saw you romantically!” He quickly amended and you breathed a sigh of relief, smiling.
“Ok, that’s good! I didn’t want our friendship to be awkward.” You said, looking at him for a response. He just grimaced and averted his gaze. You gestured for him to go on confusedly and he began speaking again.
“And I said more like a mother-figure.” A statement which made you feel positive things you don’t want to address. “Then I may have accidentally said that, even though I haven’t met him, I see your husband as more of a father-figure as well.” He quickly rushed the last part out and you sat, stunned. 
The room went silent while you processed what he told you. Fuuuuckkk. How much trouble were you going to be in? I mean the team knew, but this wasn’t something you could pass off as your grandmother's rings. This was undeniable proof that you had a husband. God press days were going to suck after this unless you could somehow make an excuse.
As time went on he seemed to collapse in on himself, the energy quickly switching to something you didn’t like.
“To be honest I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost my seat.” You said and Max’s head snapped up. “What?” He asked, disbelieving.
“Yeah I know, crazy.” You laughed, dragging out the last word, trying to establish a more relaxed aura in the room.
“No, why haven’t you kicked me out yet?” It was at times like this you really wanted to punch Jos Verstappen in the face. You made an over exaggerated confused face, hoping the fact that that had never gone through your mind was on display in your face.
“Max, why would I do that?” You asked, your voice very quickly becoming soothing.
“Why aren’t you mad at me? You’ve spent years hiding this! You should be yelling at me!” He said, standing up. You tried, in vain, to get him to sit down by gently calling him, but he started pacing.
“I’ve just ruined your chances at revealing this yourself, at ever having another peaceful day in your marriage, and all you can do is make a joke?!” He almost started yelling, clenching his fists. You got fed-up and yelled his name, calling his attention to you.
“You’re in my house as my guest. You will not tell me what to do or how to handle situations. Sit your ass down.” You yelled, your voice incredibly commanding. He followed your instructions and sat smally in front of you.
“Max. It was eventually going to come out. I don’t mind. I’d much rather it come off handedly from you than maliciously leaked by a random instagram page.” You said and he looked up, almost looking close to tears. You frowned before bringing the boy up into a hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you had to ask a question.
“You didn’t reveal who he was though, no?” You asked, still in the hug. You felt Max shake his head and you silently fistpumped behind his back. It wasn’t your fault, so it technically didn’t count and you hadn’t lost the bet.
You were right, by the way, press days were soon filled with questions about your mystery husband instead of your racing. But it was fine, you were somehow able to twist it as though you’d made a joke about having a husband and Max took it seriously.
Phew.
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2021: (sorry latifi)
“And so today you will be reacting to fan edits of yourselves!” The lady behind the camera finished, prompting you and George to look at eachother. It was early in the season and, even though you’d raced together for a few years, you weren’t exactly close, being that before pre-season meetings, you hadn’t ever talked. At all.
This meant he didn’t know much about your personal life or the whole ‘husband’ thing. Which was fine, you’d tell him in your own time, when you felt your friendship was strong enough. He seemed to be a great kid, though you were determined to not adopt another grown child, especially after the look you got from Kyungsoo when you mentioned the fact you may have ‘accidentally’ had Christmas with Max Verstappen.
But hey, they had finally met during February and it was almost like a Dad saying that his daughter can’t adopt a cat while simultaneously cuddling with the cat. Kyungsoo, against his better judgment, had instantly attached to Max and now you were battling for the position of being his favourite driver. Which you were totally not bitter about (you said your favourite EXO member was Sehun in retaliation and he changed your mind very quickly).
Back to the present, the people behind the camera placed a tablet on the table in front of you. It was open on the photo gallery and you could already see some very flattering videos saved to the device.
“You wanna go first?” You asked, and George nodded before picking up the tablet and scrolling through the photo library. He closed his eyes and landed on one. Loud music immediately began playing from the device, you think ‘London Boy’ by Taylor Swift, and you both watched in varying states of horror as photos and clips of him flashed on the screen.
As the video ended you both accidentally made eye-contact. Now, as an almost 28 year old woman, the simple gesture of looking into your teammate's stricken eyes should not have made burst out laughing as hard as you did. But, god, George’s eyes were expressive. In fairness he also did laugh, though he probably was confused as to why you were laughing so much.
After you caught your breath you could only utter out,
“Your face...” Before peeling back into giggles again. He started laughing again as well before putting the tablet down. In doing so, he accidentally swiped the tablet and the Backstreet Boys started playing, an edit of the 2019 rookies playing as the video.
This chain event caused you to start gasping, the sheer ridiculousness of the videos catching up to you. George only took one look at the tears forming in your eyes before he was also wheezing out harsh breaths from laughing.
It took around 2 minutes for you to look at each other without laughing and, for you both to be able to pick up the tablet without giggling, it took another minute or so. You eventually began scrolling through the tablet, laughing at some and ‘aww’-ing at some of the sad ones. 
Eventually a video came up with the background music to ‘Give it to me’ by Sistar, an edit of you that was hot but had you gasping at the lyrics.
“What?” George looked over to you, curious as to why there was another noise that came out of your mouth than laughing or a strained ‘why?’.
“The audacity!” You said, as the music continued playing.
“What..?” George asked, more confused than previously.
“Do you want to know the lyrics they’ve just edited me to?” You asked, looking over at him, your voice pretending to be offended.
“What?” He said, his tone changing again to have a sort of goading lilt.
“Will I even get married before I turn thirty.” You said with an air of finality, turning to glare at the camera, your jaw dramatically hung open. George gasped mockingly.
“How dare they!” He said sarcastically and you nodded eagerly.
“I know right!” You responded beginning a stereotypical mean girl impression. “How dare they!” After that little fiasco, you both kept scrolling and laughing (a notable example of this being when an edit of George crying came up, him pushing your shoulders as you continued to laugh). 
Eventually the video was being wrapped up and George was preparing to do a sort of sign off when he paused and turned to you.
“I know we aren’t incredibly close…” He started and you prepared for a multitude of questions. You didn’t know him well enough to predict what he might say, so you went over your predisposed answers to questions in your head.
You knew he wouldn’t ask anything uncomfortable, like about your relationship status, or anything really weird, like how many socks do you wash at once. But that left a gaping probability for mildly-weird or mildly-uncomfortable questions. You hoped he wouldn’t ask that, but you were still prepared to be asked if you threw out your receipts or kept them.
“But I didn’t know you knew Korean. How did you learn?” 
Oh. Fuck.
You did not have an answer for that. How the fuck did you not have an answer for that? You definitely should have had an answer for that. Oh wait, you didn’t have an answer because you promised yourself not to tell anyone that you could speak Korean so that you didn’t get that question!
The real, close-friends answer was that Kyungsoo had taught you over a range of years and that you’d taken courses so that you’d be able to talk to his friends and family. However you didn’t have a PR approved answer because you’d never thought that you’d need one. Time to put your problem solving skills to the test. 
“Uhhhhh…” You said, staring confusedly at George, aware of the seconds that had passed while you were internally monologuing. You hoped your expression didn’t convey the level of gob-smacked that you felt but you think it did because George’s face contorted to be one of worry.
“If that’s a sensitive topic or something you don’t have to answer!” He quickly said as though he was trying to fix the situation. You’d later learn the George thought before your video that you were kind of ‘fucking terrifying’ (his words) and that he was scared he’d screwed up by asking you this and one of his ‘hero’s’ (his words) wouldn’t ever want to talk to him again. 
“Nah, nah. It’s ok.” You waved him off, desperately trying to think of something. Oh! You knew exactly what to say.
“Basically I just have this really good friend who is Korean and I asked him to teach me for fun.” You said simply, before realising that wasn’t good enough considering your reaction.
“I was trying to hide how good I’ve gotten to try and surprise him but I guess it’s ok.” You said, a small smile on your face. George relaxed from his tense state and nodded, a small smile playing onto his lips as well.
“Ah that’s cool. Sorry to spoil the surprise.” You waved him off again and he continued the video’s outro.
Another good save, you really oughta be hired to problem-solve. And by problem-solving you mean lying to the media. And George. Poor George. 
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2022: (yeah the timelines don’t match, don’t call me out pls)
A loud banging sounded against your hotel door. You groaned, dropping the book onto your chest from where you held it up. Glancing angrily at the door, you rolled out of bed and stomped over to the entrance. You ripped open the door and prepared to start reaming the person on the other side before letting out a high-pitched scream.
You were in Japan for the Suzuka GP. You always didn’t like the Japanese GP because, even though you were incredibly close to Kyungsoo, your schedules never lined up so you could never see him. 
That fact really grinded your gears, but it’s what you get when you try to schedule something with SM Entertainment. A decisive ‘No.’ What a great company. To be honest, was Willaims really any better?
No. No they weren’t. That mere fact infuriated you enough to make you scream. However, it wasn’t the reason you were currently screaming. That was because, standing in your doorway in the middle of the team hotel, was Kai. 
You hadn’t seen him in a few months, you both had busy schedules, so the man appearing on your doorstep was miraculous. You didn’t think of why he was there, or how he got there. You just threw your arms around him and gave him a hug.
“Oh my god!” You screamed, before immediately regretting it and quickly pulling him into your hotel room before someone came out of their rooms and wondered why he was in front of yours.
“Hi!” He said, laughing as he let himself be pushed into your room despite the fact he could pick you up and throw you.
“What are you doing here?” You asked changing your pulling into a hug, squeezing the younger man as though he was your child. You had a serious problem with that, treating men almost your age as children. But Kai was more of a brother than a child, to be quite frank. That distinction just meant that he really really bugged you.
“I have a concert tomorrow and I thought I might just stop in.” He said, a smile on his face. “Though it is only me, sorry.”
“That’s ok!” You said, still in disbelief one of your closest friends was on your doorstep.
“Does Kyungsoo know?” Kai smirked in response to your question. That was answer enough in itself and you slapped Kai on the shoulder.
“You should’ve told him! He might’ve come.” Kai gasped in mock offense.
“What am I not good enough? Would you really prefer your husband that much?” He continued in mock offense and you dead-panned him. He just laughed in response.
“I did have to tell the company I was coming though, and they asked me to film a TikTok with you.” He quickly rushed out and you groaned, staring at the sky. What was up with all of these people wanting you to do TikTok’s?! You had all of your team's PR people constantly chasing you with a camera and now you had Kai asking for a video.
“Fine.” You ground out and Kai grinned, purposely ignoring your annoyance.
“Fantastic!” He said and quickly whipped out his phone, launching into his plans of what to film. Your only artistic input was that he had to cool it on the filters or else you wouldn’t film. 
The video started with the familiar sound of Peaches by Kai and a hand knocking on your hotel door, you opening the door curiously. As the chorus sounded, you recorded Kai dancing in your doorway, incredibly aware of the chance of any of your colleagues walking into the hallway and wondering what the fuck was going on.
The video continued after the chorus, Kai recording you slamming the door in his face with a confused expression. The video then ended with a still image of the both of you doing a heart together with your hands and you let Kai go rampant on the filters, hearts and sparkles flying around on the screen. 
When you watched it back, Kai waiting at your side eagerly to see your reaction, you did your best to hide the laughing fit you had in reaction to the monstrosity. You couldn’t quite hide the gasps that were leaving you though and Kai frowned.
“It’s perfect. I love it.” You said, through your giggles and he smiled.
“I know. It’s fantastic.” You only nodded because you couldn’t trust yourself to talk, a small whine escaping through your lips at the struggle of not laughing.
“Do you want to see the caption?” He asked and you violently nodded your head. 
“Please.” 
“P15 but still P1 EXO-L.” He read out and you just hung your jaw open. “You bastard!” You laughed out. 
“I put it in Korean as well.” Your only response was to hit him, hard, while still laughing and shaking your head.
“Should we run it by your PR team before posting?” Kai asked, taking a serious note. You looked to him and sucked in air through your teeth.
“Nahhhh.” You replied and he shrugged, and clicked post.
“I should probably tell Kyungsoo you were here before he finds out through the internet.” You said, reaching for your phone. Kai nodded vehemently.
One phone call later, an angry Kyungsoo and an apologetic Kai later, the TikTok was making its rounds and your phone was blowing up, your poor PR agent about to have a heart attack.
On that delightful note Kai left your hotel room, farewelled with a minute long hug and a well-wish for his concert, and you were left to phone your PR agent who just screamed into the phone for 10 seconds before actually speaking.
Of course, during the press releases for the rest of the season, you talked about how much of an EXO-L you were and how close of a friend you were to Kai. This didn’t come without dating rumours but, due to one poorly angled camera shot of your disgusted face when a reporter suggested dating to your face, that was shut down pretty quickly. 
Still no one had shipped you with the other EXO members though, so you weren’t even close to losing the bet. (Though you had been asked which EXO member was your favourite, which you responded to with a smirk.)
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2023:
It was a good race, you finishing P4 which was a huge improvement since last season. Your team was on top of the moon as were you, smiling from ear to ear. You were currently in the press area, getting asked questions left and right about the car and your performance.
You were adequately responding to each question, sometimes looking questioningly your PR agent when you weren’t sure how to respond. A loud crash sounded through the area that drew the attention of most in the area as a reporters chair fell to the ground. They had jumped up at something on their phone and, like everyone else in the pen, you were wondering what had them so fired up.
Then their eyes darted up and made eye-contact with you. Your internal monologue quickly changed from questioning to a repeated loop of ‘Oh no. Oh no.’ as they advanced your way, moving like a predator stalks their prey. They thrusted their phone under your nose, the shitty little mic attached to it capturing every breath you took and the many cameras in the area capturing your wide eyes.
The reporter addressed you by name before starting to speak.
“Do you know of a man by the name Doh Kyungsoo?” They asked and your world cracked. What on earth had happened? How did they know? All you knew was that it was time for the one acting class your mum had made you take to try and sway you from racing to come to full effect.
“I think he’s from that band Kai’s in, yeah?” You responded after a second of fake pondering. The reporter's eyes narrowed like a hawk.
“You wouldn’t say you were close? Not close enough to get married perhaps?” The reporter asked, clearly trying to stir the pot. Oh my god, was this a prank? How the fuck did they know? How were you supposed to play this off? Would this jeopardize your career?
“Uhhm no…?” You said, incredulously, fixing them a scandalized stare. They sarcastically nodded.
“Oh really? Then what’s this?” They said and shoved their phone closer to your face till you saw a picture of you and Kyungsoo on your wedding day. How did they get this? Had one of your small circle leaked something?
You tried not to let the bewilderment you felt show on your face.
“I’m sorry? Are you trying to pass this off as real? It’s obviously photoshopped! I’m so tired of people trying to fabricate a story of me dating every person I’ve interacted with!” You finally snapped, letting a few years of pent up tension out in this moment. The reporter only continued to smirk.
“Oh really!” They said and you wanted to punch them and their snooty little face. To try and display this, your face fell into one of contempt.
“Is that why this image was posted to Doh Kyungsoo’s official instagram account with the caption ‘Sorry for making you lie to the press for eight years!’?” 
They got you there, dam.
Your jaw dropped open, the corners of your mouth rising at the pure hilarity of this situation.
“Excuse me?” You asked, grabbing the phone off the reporter and tapping back onto the post. They were right, Kyungsoo had posted to his official instagram that exact post. It was a carousel post with pictures taken of when you’d lied to the press about him, from the initial lying about being in Seoul to a picture of your ringed necklace to a picture of you smirking after being asked which EXO member was your favourite.
You couldn’t help but release a laugh, your hand traveling to cover your open mouth. Why did he post this? 
Wait.
This meant you won the bet. Your head shot up to stare at a camera.
“I won the bet.” You said quietly. The reporter snatched their phone back and stared at you confused. 
“What?” They asked and you whipped your head to them, a large smile spreading across your face.
“I won the bet!” You said eagerly, reaching out to grab their shoulders and rock them back and forth.
“I won the bet!!” You ignored how they shook you off, turning to your PR Agent instead and grabbing them and lifting them up. They hurriedly tapped your back as you lifted them, as though signaling you to drop them, but you ignored that and started spinning them around. 
“I actually can’t believe it, oh my god!” You snapped out of it and dropped your PR Agent, immediately running out of the media pen and back to your driver room, pulling your necklace out of your racesuit and pulling your rings off, placing them back on their correct fingers.
You quickly packed everything up, ignoring the ringing of your phone as your team tried to get you to go to more press conferences and briefings, and you got out of there, on the first plane to Seoul you could book.
When you arrived, after a long plane trip filled with excitement and pictures being taken of you, decked out in your team's merchandise as you sat buzzing in your seat, your phone was completely blowing up, messages from everyone in your contact list and more. You turned it off (you’d deal with it later) after calling an uber to your apartment.
You were jittery the whole ride, hoping that, despite the time of night, Kyungsoo was still awake. When you arrived outside your apartment building, you felt all the tension in your body ease, and you looked up to see the light on in your window. You smiled and took your suitcase handle in hand and ventured into the building, greeting the old lady at the desk.
Riding the lift up to your apartment nearly had you pacing and you almost ran down the hallway towards your door, quickly knocking. You felt the reverberations in the floorboards as Kyungsoo walked over to the door and a sense of euphoria filled you at the familiarity.
The door was barely open before you launched yourself at Kyungsoo, his heavenly laughter filled your ears as he caught you. You quickly found yourself in a kiss before pulling back and peppering kisses all over his face, finding his giggles more lovely than his singing.
You both pulled back just to look in eachothers eyes and you smiled simultaneously. 
“I love you.” You muttered, the happiness from the day finally catching up to you.
“I love you too.” He whispered, tilting his head before going in for another kiss. 
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“You know.” He began later that night, when you were just lying in bed cuddling together. You turned your head from its position on his chest to look at him, his eyes remaining on the roof.
“I think I won in the end.” You immediately reared your head back, prepared to object at the sheer wrongness of his answer. He anticipated this though and dropped his hand from where it was combing through your hair to your mouth. He also dropped his head as to make eye contact.
“You stuck by me through everything. Even though you had to lie almost every day and had to listen to millions of rumours about me with other people, you still stayed with me. You learned a whole other language just to know people who knew me. Nothing I will ever say will ever put into perspective how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. The way you’ve loved me will be comparable to nothing other than how much I’ve loved you.” His heartfelt speech made your head vibrate and a few tears left your eyes at his words, him kissing each one away. 
You whined deep in the back of your throat and he released a laugh at your response. 
“You could’ve just said ‘I love you’.” You said quietly.
“That’s true too.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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ahh it's over! dividers from this post btw, it's 11:59 pm let me sleep.
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vro0m · 4 months ago
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Can you link me to where you talked about VER vs HAM’s codes??? Idek what that means but I’m intrigued.
It was in the 2015 Abu Dhabi GP review. For context it was the last race in Max's first season and he gave an interview.
Tl;dr : essentially Max was aware but not worried about the mistakes he was making. About the conflicts he ran into with other way more experienced and established drivers, he said he was defending his seat and that was normal. My theory is that Max knew the cultural codes of F1. Hence he felt entitled to the seat, the on track moves, his entire behavior, no matter how criticised he was for it. He was confident and unapologetic about it because he knew how he could be confident and unapologetic in that world and for it to be okay. He knew how it worked because he'd been immersed in that universe from his birth and what he didn't know his father could explain to him. Also something something about nobody holding him accountable.
In comparison, Lewis was fucking stressed the first few years because he's not from this world and neither he nor his family knew how to navigate it. That's also why Anthony would say "do your talking on the track" because that's the only place they could do their talking at all, unlike the likes of the Verstappens. Which is also basically what he's saying in that video from earlier.
Here's the full developed explanation from the review under a cut because it gets a bit long :
He talks about mistakes he’s made and he’s not miffed about them, he says it’s part of the learning process. He talks about his altercation with Massa after his big crash in Monaco when Massa said he should be penalised and Verstappen was like “mind your own business” basically and he says no hard feelings but you have to stand up for yourself especially at the beginning of your career. Also in Singapore when he refused to let his teammate back in front. He says he didn’t want to move because he was enjoying the race and fighting for a position and he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t have made a difference in the end. When asked if he then thought he was in trouble, he says it just drives him to do a better job. He says he thinks in the end a lot of people agreed with him and it’s a validation that he did the right thing. When asked where he can improve now, speed, consistency, technical feedback, he says everywhere. 
Okay so. Why did I mention it? Well it’s all purely my opinion so as always you’re welcome to disagree but I see a very stark contrast in attitude with Lewis at his debut. Simply because Max doesn’t seem to feel like he has anything to prove. He seems to feel like he’s entitled to being here. Which is good on him, btw, I’m not questioning whether it’s based or not. But he’s there, he’s confident, he knows there's learning curve but that’s normal to him, he’s defending his spot and he’s very transparent about that, he’s not worried about his position in this sport. It gives him confidence and self assurance and even cheekiness. That’s the privilege of his position as, first of all of course, a white man, and also as a nepo baby. And, well, there's nothing he can do about being white and a nepo baby so to be clear I’m not holding it against him, he’s using the cards he’s been dealt. It is what it is. But in comparison when you think back to rookie Lewis… That boy was stressed out. He had to make it count. He had to prove himself so bad. There was so much pressure. And that’s the cards HE was dealt. 
In sociology, I once heard about study results highlighting that children from higher socioeconomic classes did better in school not necessarily because they had better abilities but because they understood the specific language used in school. They understood the logic of it, the way it worked, the rules, because the same language and same logic and same structure was used in their homes unlike the homes of families from lower socioeconomic backgrounds. I feel like it’s the same thing. Max had a good understanding of the F1 codes from the start. He knew the politics of it and how the game was played. And where he might have not known, his dad did, and could tell him. Lewis struggled terribly in the first few years, especially with the PR and politics part, remember? He hated it to the point it made him consider quitting. Because he didn’t have the codes, he wasn’t born in it. And his dad couldn’t help with that, which is why he used to tell him to do his talking on the track. Because they simply didn’t have the status, nor the connections, nor the knowledge, to do it in the offices and dinner parties like the Verstappens.
Also it’s interesting to note that part about Max saying in the end people agreed with him so it validated that he was right. Because that’s a thing I’ve mentioned several times before, not in this rewatch but on my blog, that nobody ever holds him accountable for his mistakes or when he showcases dangerous driving and I find it to be a problem because that means he doesn’t question himself about it and has zero reason to change. First of all, sometimes it’s been actually genuinely dangerous for other people and second of all I worry (yes) that it might hinder his development. Because listen, whether you like Max or not, as far as driving goes, he has the stuff. It’s undeniable. I agree with the journalists this season saying straight away he would definitely win a championship at some point. The way it happened fucking sucked but if that hadn’t happened he’d still have won titles sooner or later. There’s no doubt. But I wonder if he’s living to his full potential not being questioned that way. Although maybe him not being completely complacent with himself is enough, idk. I guess I’ll see where I fall on that by watching his career develop. 
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accio-victuuri · 1 year ago
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NOVEMBER 19 : The Full Story 📝
oh well sort of, cause this is what is known and shared publicly with tons of filling in the blanks by cpfs. someone made a side by side incidents during this day and time for the past years 2017 to now 2023 and it’s good to see it all laid out. it’s hilarious to see the realization among turtles that we could be wrong about their anniversary date. for years, we always talked about the month of June but now, November is making a great argument 😂
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( these freakin masterminds are so naughty! I swear!!! 🤣🤣🤣 )
source of the compilation i’m using to outline is 圣衣雪琳 cause they perfectly summed up the key points very well. I already talked about some of these in my previous post but this is for the “11/19 lore” exclusively and so we can expand on other years.
I’m a sucker for timelines so let’s go 💪🏼
2017: At this time, they already know of each other and depending on who you ask might have already been low key stalking the other. LOL. WYB’s was about Just Dance and ZZ is a selfie and hotpot ; the latter post about going home.
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I don’t think that this holds much significance in terms of an actual relationship and stuff happening behind the scenes. However, it feels like fate that they both posted on this day even without that significance being there. We cpfs love to talk about how they are fated and certain things, no matter how mundane, turned out to be a piece that completed the puzzle. There is some push back with some turtles saying this shouldn’t be included cause it seems like the start of this 11/19 is 2018 but again, just leaving this here. I could probably add 2015/2016 if we really wanna back track lol
2018: THIS IS THE KEY CPN IN ALL OF THIS. I have already explained it here. The infamous Japan trip. How both of them seemingly making references to their post from this year vs today (2023) especially XZ who even posted on the same time. There are so many rumors about this timeline, even going as far as saying the next day, they started living together. How this was WYB saying it’s WYB, not LWJ. So the relationship they have now is not between fictional characters but the real one.
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I’m eating this candy whole. No one can tell me otherwise. I’m sold 🤣🤣🤣
Have we been wrong? did they officially become together 11/19/2018. Some are even pointing out that one of GG’s photos shared today appears to be him traveling back from IM to Beijing.
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and who is in Beijing? His home. Yibo. 🏡
We love to think about them sharing photos to each other and i’m imagining this is ZZ sending something similar to WYB and saying that he is on his way back.
2019: Bazaar video was released, it’s message being a favorite among BXGs. Going by the assumption that this is their anniversary of sorts, it makes sense to have a message like that to be delivered.
how he met his love in a dream ( presumably that summer and playing wwx opposite wyb’s lwj ) and when he woke up, his love is still there. meaning even in reality, he still feels the same. no. it was not scripted, the one who shot it said it was xz’s answer and he was shocked too.
youtube
They posted some work related stuff on that day, with WYB’s being audi’s. the part of the caption we are clowning about is : Don’t blame me for not reminding you. Which in the original post and context is about the benefits you will get if you buy an Audi. but in cpn speak it could mean that ZZ probably forget, but he actually didn’t cause that bazaar love confession was clear.
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2020: I already talked in detail over here #2 with was going on at the time.
It’s also the start of the whole Thursday is a good day to see you, in reference to WYB’s vogue post. Then it snowballed into a whole CPN of it’s own.
I forgot to add one important thing tho, around this time 11/18 there schedules were public and both are supposed to go back to Beijing. WYB was from Hangzhou and ZZ was from Nanjing. The incident of WYB changing his flight 3x so he can go back to Beijing is this time 11/18. We clowned that he was so eager to be in the same city with ZZ but with what we think now, it could be he wanted them to be together badly because it’s their anniversary the next day 11/19. 🤯
2021: Both of them posting a Douyin video that involves changing clothes. Which is a very common transition trend on the app but seeing it done on the same day was a treat and unusual. GG’s was posted 11/17 and WYB was 11/19.
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I wanna remind people too that this is the same month we got the mysterious “voices” both in Shenzhen Vlog ( his husband wang yibo ) and talks of ZZ being at the Luoyang press conference filming. The same month the whole Ximalaya CPN started too. So they were definitely “acting up”.
2022: No actual posts but a parallel. 11/17, Guangdian appeared on the itunes chart because of fan’s effort. 11/18, WYB released a song ( government related ) called Light Chaser. So spotlight = light chaser has similar element and theme of light. Then on 11/20 WYB’s shared a douyin with 👀.
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2023: Probably making up for how quiet last year was, they decided to give us a big hint/s of what 11/19 is all about. 😂😂😂
This is all fake and cpn talk. I do enjoy when candies go years back! This journey of trying to piece things together is a bxg’s strength so we’re really thriving today— with all the possibly unrelated events we have managed to stitch together into this! 🙃
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in1-nutshell · 9 months ago
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Hello there, so I saw one of the ask was the tfp autobots react to bot buddy with Wednesday Adam's personality so I was hoping you can continue it for RID 2015 with the autobots
We are bringing back some older Buddy's I see.
Bee doesn't know how to feel about seeing his pseudo sibling again and dealing with their antics again.
Hope you enjoy!
Bot Buddy with the personality of Wednesday Addams with Team Bee
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader
RID 2015
Bumblebee
When Bumblebee asked Prime’s spirit for help, he meant like someone like Ultra Magnus, Arcee, Ratchet, he would even take Smokescreen.
He was not expecting Buddy to roll into the scrapyard unannounced one night.
He has to tell everyone not to attack them multiple times.
He knows Buddy doesn’t exactly look like the friendliest bot on the block, but he knows them well, he just hopes that enough to convince his team for now.
Buddy standing by Bee’s side as he introduces everyone to them.
“Buddy this is the team. The two you knocked out are Strongarm and Sideswipe. The Dinobot is Grimlock, and the Samurai with the minibots are Drift, Jetstream and Jetstorm.”—Bumblebee
“Buddy?”—Russel
Buddy looks down at the two humans and kneels to further inspect them.
Sideswipe is about to interfere when Bee holds a servo for him to wait.
Denny looks a bit nervous at the Bot while Russel just stares back.
“That is my designation. And you are?”--Buddy
“I’m Russel. That’s my Dad, over there. You don’t look like a ‘Buddy’.”--Russel
“What do I look like?”--Buddy
“Shadowbitter or, I don’t know, Darksteel?”--Russel
Buddy raises their optics a bit.
Buddy extends a digit for Russel to shake.
“I like this one Bumblebee. I can’t wait to wreak havoc with you.”--Buddy
Rusty smiles a bit, while Bee groans in the background.
Don’t get him wrong, he appreciates the extra help.
It took him a while to get used to their antics.
What Bumblebee doesn’t quite understand is how Buddy and Russel managed to click so quickly.
He finds that he missed his pseudo-older sibling’s dark humor and antics after a bit.
There is no way he is going to tell the team this information.
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Strongarm
Strongarm immediately thought Buddy was a Con that snuck into the scrapyard. Naturally she tried to arrest them.
She went down so fast.
Sideswipe doesn’t let her live that down, even though he also got taken down just as fast.
But when hearing who this Bot was, she has a complete change in perspective.
Strongarm looking at the Bot next to Bee.
“Wait your telling us this is The Buddy?”--Strongarm
Buddy raising their optic at Bumblebee.
“You haven’t been telling them good stories about me, right? The best stories are my worst.”--Buddy
Buddy and Bee jumping a bit hearing a squeal.
Strongarm fangirl noises in the background.
Buddy looking at Bumblebee.
“…When I make it out of here alive, I have that burial shroud for your grave when I’m done with you.”--Buddy
Strongarm fangirl’s a bit.
They were after all, a part of the original Team Prime, and worked with Bumblebee in the past.
So, they cant be all that bad right.
Not a fan of the dark humor.
Not her taste.
Has many questions for Buddy, but half of the time Strongarm holds it in, for fear of angering the bot.
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Sideswipe
Sideswipe will deny ever having attacked Buddy on their first day at the scrapyard.
He is floored seeing this scary looking Bot standing so casually next to Bumblebee and him just being cool with it.
The confusion is great with this Bot.
He tries to act cool in front of Buddy.
Sideswipe wants to patrol with Buddy sometime, but he is also a bit scared of the idea.
He is not afraid of asking Buddy for stories of young Bumblebee.
He finds most of their antics funny, but occasionally he feels off about it.
“What other stories you have about Bumblebee?”--Sideswipe
“Why do you want to know? To exploit his weaknesses? Blackmial material?”--Buddy
Sideswipe mentally sweating a bit.
“Maybe?”--Sideswipe
Buddy pulling out a data pad.
“I have 25 videos from our time at the base on this data pad. If I find more, I can show them.”--Buddy
Meanwhile Bumblebee somewhere in the Scrapyard.
“…Somethings wrong…”--Bumblebee
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Grimlock
Grimlock was about to step in when he saw Drift and the mini’s start fighting the Bot after they soloed Strongarm and Sideswipe.
He is the first to believe Bumblebee when he says that Buddy is a good guy like them.
He is a bit confused by Buddy’s dark humor and antics, but he just rolls with it. Sometimes he finds himself laughing even though he doesn’t get it.
Any friend of Bee is a friend of his.
He likes to hear some of the stories from Team Prime has.
“Can you tell me about the fight with Predaking again?”--Grimlock
“The one I’ve told you about 7 times this week? Aren’t your audials going to fall off with hearing anymore of that story.”--Buddy
Grimlock looking confused but waiting for the story.
“… So, I was face to face with the giant Predacon…”--Buddy
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Drift
Drift tried to fight Buddy as soon as he saw them take out Strongarm and Sideswipe.
He stood toe to toe with the bot even with his students’ help.
He is confused when Bumblebee tells them to stop.
He is on guard the entire time.
He does not care that Bumblebee claims they are friendly; their entire stance says differently.
He is not a fan of their humor or antics.
He is fully convinced that they are a con in disguise.
He does eventually get used to them, but it takes a while.
Drift looking around the Scrapyard for his students.
CRASH!
He turns the corner to see Buddy balancing Jetstream in one servo while Jetstorm in stuck on a sticky target.
“What do you think you’re doing?”--Drift
Buddy looking at him dead in the optics.
“Target practice.”—Buddy
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supernovafics · 5 months ago
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series masterlist | last part — next part
pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 7.5k words
warnings: explicit language, pining, some angst, steve being very charming and flirty, weed smoking (only briefly mentioned at the end)
summary: you’re really not looking forward to your blind date with steve, but you force yourself to do it anyway
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CHAPTER ONE | ❝𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕❞
Fall Semester 2015
The elevator in your dorm building was a hazard, and getting stuck in it was pretty much guaranteed.  
That fact was established within the first month of school; it would break down a handful of times per week, almost always with people in it. And even though, after every incident, maintenance would say that it was “fixed for good,” it never really was.  
Even with all of these issues, everyone seemed to have the same mindset. They’d rather risk getting stuck in an elevator for thirty minutes to an hour than simply walk up more than two flights of stairs. You lived on the sixth floor so you were also okay with running the risk. However, when you finally did get stuck, you regretted not just making the trek up the six flights of stairs. 
There was only one other person in the elevator with you when it happened, and you weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You would’ve hated it if the elevator had been packed with people like it always was most mornings and afternoons, but it also felt like you were now being forced into having some sort of conversation with this person that you were now stuck with. So, you kind of wished that there was at least one other person in the elevator to alleviate some of the sudden awkwardness you felt.  
This guy seemed entirely unbothered by the fact that it was just you and him in there. Maybe it was because you two were standing on opposite sides and he hadn’t even really noticed you yet. His eyes were focused on his phone and he looked slightly familiar, especially his mop of curly hair and the black denim jacket he was wearing, but you weren’t entirely sure how you recognized him. 
You leaned back against the metal wall of the elevator and for a second your fingers mindlessly fumbled with the zipper of the hoodie you had on.
“Have you ever gotten stuck in here before?” You abruptly asked, breaking the prevailing quiet. You were good at that, filling silences that felt as if they needed to be filled. Most of the time, though, it was probably only in your head that any quietness that lingered felt awkward or uncomfortable. But, you didn’t know this guy, so everything felt awkward and uncomfortable.
“Yeah, last week,” He nodded as he looked at you, pocketing his phone in his jeans. “It only took them twenty minutes to fix it, though.” 
“Okay, that’s good.” 
Your words hung in the air as he nodded at them and then sat down on the floor. After a second of inward contemplation, you followed suit and sat down too. 
You both stuck to your corners and things stayed quiet for a bit. The silence didn’t feel completely awkward anymore, but you still hated it just the same, and the minutes felt as if they were passing by way too slowly because of it. You wanted to think of something, anything, to say. 
And then, as if the universe was trying to help you, you were randomly connecting the dots on how you vaguely recognized him.
“I think you live across the hall from me,” You said, suddenly being reminded of brief moments where you’d see him when you were heading into your dorm and he was leaving his, and vice versa. “I’m in 612.”
He looked at you and opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it when it seemed as if he realized something. His eyes widened a bit in what you could only deem as surprise, and then he was abruptly breaking your gaze. “Oh.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How could any of what you’d just said warrant that kind of reaction? 
“What?” 
Before he could even answer your question, your own realization hit you and you immediately shook your head. “Oh my God. Shit. No. Any… noises that you’ve probably heard coming from my room are not me. I swear that’s my roommate.”
You weren’t sure why you suddenly became so flustered or why you felt the immediate need to correct what you were ninety-nine percent certain he was thinking right then. But the thought of being stuck in an elevator with him for however much longer, and letting him think that he had heard you having sex before felt entirely too weird. 
“Anytime you hear anything, I’m probably camping out in the library,” You continued. “The second floor has become my actual home at this point.” 
“Shit, that sucks.”
“Sucks” was probably an understatement. You thought back to the first week of school when your roommate brought a guy back to the room and they started making out on her bed barely ten feet away from you; you couldn’t have left the room faster. 
“Yeah, it does. She’s the worst,” You said, pushing away your previous memory. “I hope your roommate is less traumatizing than mine.”
“He just started doing some frat stuff, so he’s barely ever around.”
“You’re lucky,” You told him and sighed. There was a beat of silence and then you were filling it with the first thing you could think of. “So, um, what are your thoughts on cereal?” 
He looked at you, mainly confused, but it also kind of looked like he wanted to laugh. “What?” 
“I don’t know,” You shrugged and crossed your legs. “I kinda hate silence, so I wanted to ask something. I also wanted to move the conversation away from the roommate sex stuff.”
“And you decided against asking the normal questions like, what’s your name or what’s your major?” He asked, an amused smile on his face. 
“Sure, yeah, in hindsight those questions probably would’ve made more sense,” You responded. It was the middle of the day so you weren’t even entirely sure why your mind went to thinking about a random breakfast food instead of the two questions that you’d been asked a countless number of times since the semester started, but it did. “I just went with the first thing that came to my head.” 
“Okay, well, yeah, cereal’s good, I guess,” He told you and let out a chuckle. “Is this about to turn into an ad for Cheerios or something?”  
You laughed at that. “No, it’s not. Although, that would’ve been a great segue. Maybe I should become a salesperson for Cheerios.”  
“Cornering people in broken down elevators like this would probably be a great strategy.”
“Very true,” You said with a nod. “They can’t go anywhere, so they’d have to listen to my sales pitch.” 
He laughed. “Okay, now that I’m hearing the idea out loud it sounds like it would be harassment.” 
“Shit, you’re right,” You told him and couldn’t help but laugh too. “Okay, so now that my salesperson dream is dead, let’s move on to the normal questions that I probably should’ve asked first. What’s your name and major and all of that boring stuff?”
He told you his name was Eddie, and then the elevator started moving again as he said that he was unsure about his major, but he was really into music, so he might end up doing something with that. You both were standing up and exiting the elevator once it stopped on the sixth floor and you told him your name and that you were an English major. 
You two began heading down the hall to your respective dorms and as you got closer, you heard the sounds that you truly wished you weren’t familiar with, but sadly you were. 
You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. You had just come from the library and you weren’t in the mood to make the walk all the way back there. 
“Hey, you can come in my room, if you wanna,” Eddie said, breaking through your annoyed thoughts. “Camp out here instead of the library.”
You gave him a small smile and nodded at his offer. “Thanks.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Spring Semester 2018
Whatever ended up happening tonight would be your fault. 
You knew that. 
You were the one that had suggested this blind date idea— an idea that you weren’t at all serious about, but Eddie took it seriously. 
“Don’t be nervous for tonight,” He had told you earlier that day at his apartment. It was too cold to sit out on the fire escape, so you two opted for sitting on the floor in his living room, opposite sides of the coffee table, and pretending to focus on your respective class assignments.  
“I’m not nervous. I’m excited,” You responded and forced a smile that you knew looked fake. It was really only a half-truth; you honestly weren’t nervous about the date, but you definitely weren’t excited. 
“Yes, because that face just screams excitement,” Eddie deadpanned, reading through your disingenuous smile, and you flipped him off for the playful jab. “Don’t worry, Steve’s a nice guy.”
You weren’t the least bit worried about your date with him, you knew that it would probably be shitty because you weren’t really in the headspace to date anyone— you were way too hung up on Eddie. What you were worried about was Eddie’s date with Julia and how not shitty that could possibly end up being. 
You decided to avoid that thought for the time being.
“Why am I just now hearing about this Steve guy?” 
“Me and him aren’t friends friends. We’ve just had a couple classes together last semester and we have one now too. Not Music stuff, Business stuff,” Eddie explained and you nodded along. “He’s cool, though. In some weird small way, I think you and him are similar.” 
You gave him an amused look. “I scream Business major to you now?” 
“No, he has a History minor, and that’s kinda like English, right?”
You were shaking your head as you laughed a bit. “No, not really.”
“Oh, shit, well, it was an idea,” He said and smiled. “Anyway, I promise you’ll still like him.” 
You probably should’ve responded with something along the lines of, “You’ll like Julia too,” but it felt too hard to say the words, and you also didn’t want to put that thought out into the universe. 
You considered texting Eddie now, as you exited your bedroom wearing an outfit that you hoped was fine enough for tonight. You decided to send a simple “Have fun tonight,” to him, and then you were inwardly sighing, still annoyed with yourself for having proposed this entire thing in the first place.  
“You look nice,” Robin’s voice pulled your attention away from your phone. You looked at where she stood in the kitchen, taking a pause from rummaging through the fridge to look at you. 
“Too nice?” You asked as you glanced down at the black dress you were wearing that you paired with a simple denim jacket and sneakers because you didn’t want to look too formal and dressed up; you didn’t want to give the wrong impression. 
“No?” She responded, slightly confused, and looked over at Talia for help, but your other roommate was too busy chopping peppers to notice the look. “This feels like a trick question…”
“No, sorry, it's not. It’s just,” You let out a sigh and shook your head at yourself, trying to find the best way to word what you wanted to say. You couldn’t admit to her that you didn’t even want to go on this date because that would open up a can of worms that you vowed to keep to yourself. “It’s been a while since the last time I went on a date and I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, y’know?” 
You honestly didn’t want to try at all, but you didn’t want to be that much of an asshole to this guy you didn’t even know. 
“You look great.” You turned to Vickie, who was sitting on the couch in the small living room area. “Perfect amounts of trying versus not trying.” 
“I agree with Vick,” Talia looked up from chopping. “That’s a good outfit.” 
“Okay,” You nodded. “Thanks, guys.”
“Is he here yet?” Robin asked you as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then shut it behind her. “Can I give him the parental third degree when he knocks on the door? The whole “What are your intentions?” blah blah blah, and “Have our darling girl back not a minute later than ten o’clock” spiel.” 
You were holding back a laugh as you quickly shook your head at her words. “One, he’s not coming up here, I’m gonna just meet him downstairs. And two, if anyone was gonna give him the “parental third degree,” it would be Talia because she’s the oldest.” 
“Jeez, don’t make it sound like I’m a grandma,” She said as she finished chopping and then went to grab the pot that sat on the dish drying rack. “I’m only a year older than you, and two years older than them.” She gestured to Robin and Vickie.
“You’re gonna be the best grandma ever someday, Tal,” Robin said, smiling at her.  
“I completely agree. Your grandkids will fucking love those cookies you made for us last week,” Vickie nodded. “Robin, hurry, and help me choose a show to watch or I will put on the one about naked people dating that you hate.”
“Coming, coming.”
Robin took her spot next to Vickie on the couch and you leaned on the arm of it. If it was any other Friday night, you would’ve joined them because that was just how things always went; the three of you cramped together on the couch and Talia in the small loveseat. And if Eddie decided to join you all, which he did most times, you’d sit on the floor with him. 
“I can’t believe I’m missing reality TV night for a stupid date.” 
“You’re actually going out and doing stuff, while we’re all wasting away on the couch on a Friday night,” Robin said. “I think you’re the cool one for once.” 
Your phone buzzed in your hand and your mind immediately went to Eddie, but when you looked at the notification, it was Steve saying that he was at your building. You wrote back a quick, “Okay. Coming now,” and then placed your phone in your jacket pocket. 
“Okay, he’s here. I’m gonna head down.”
Vickie smiled at you. “Good luck!” 
“Have fun!” Talia said. “I’ll make sure to save you some pasta just in case the restaurant he takes you to is shit.” 
“Remember to use protection!” Robin told you and Vickie promptly swatted her on the arm. “Ow! I’m just saying anything is possible and you should always be prepared.”
“That’s definitely not gonna happen, but if in the very very very big off chance that it does, I promise to use protection, Rob.”
“Good,” She smiled. “This apartment is already really loud and I think the place would collapse in on itself if we added a baby to the mix.” 
It was an obvious exaggeration, but still, she was actually pretty right.  
There was always something going on within the four walls of the shared apartment, and eventually, it was unspokenly decided that the never-ending noise just came with the territory of having four people under one roof. Whether it be Robin playing music loudly because it somehow helped her study better, or Talia moving about in the kitchen as she cooked some sort of elaborate meal for you all, or Vickie taking over the living room to work on her drawings and putting a shitty podcast on the TV because it was the perfect background noise to keep her focused. 
Somehow, this living arrangement felt nothing like your unbearable roommate situation Freshman year. You’d honestly grown to love the noisiness that quickly became a staple within the apartment; weirdly enough, it actually helped you sleep better at night. 
Your neighbors probably hated the four of you, but, luckily enough, they were also college kids who were way too loud and annoying at times, so in a way, the mutual hatred simply canceled itself out.  
The last thing you heard before you shut the door behind you and became engulfed by the silence in the hallway was Talia telling Robin and Vickie to turn up the volume on the TV so that she could hear the show better as she cooked. 
It was then that you decided that you really didn’t want to go on this date. You wanted to watch dumb reality television with your friends, and you wanted to have Talia’s cooking, and you wanted Eddie to cancel his date and come over too. 
None of that could happen, though. You knew that. So, you reluctantly forced yourself to walk toward the elevator down the hall. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Anyone with two eyes could see that Steve Harrington was attractive, and since you were also a person with two eyes, you could recognize that too. 
But, that blatantly obvious fact didn’t change your indifference toward this entire night, and you hoped that wasn’t showing. 
The initial “Hi’s” and “Nice to meet you’s” when you got into his car had been awkward, to say the least, probably solely from your side of things, and you wondered if that was how the rest of the night was going to be. 
You then abruptly suggested that you two skip dinner and just head straight to the movies. You made up a quick lie about how you had a big lunch earlier and weren’t hungry right then— you were just trying to do anything to make sure that the night ended faster. And although you were kind of hungry, you decided that movie theater popcorn and candy would be enough, and you could also hold out and wait for Talia’s pasta. 
“So, Eddie told me that you’re an English major.”
“Yeah,” You nodded, glad that you weren’t the one who had to break the silence that had been prevailing in the car for the last minute. You could’ve simply left things at that quick answer, and let the soft sounds of the radio fill the air again for the time being. But, then you thought about the fact that you’d be stuck with him for at least the next two hours, so why not just try to make things bearable? 
“And he told me that you’re minoring in History,” You said. “He also said that he thought that they were kinda similar, so I think that might be the only reason why he wanted to set us up.”
“I don’t think I could ever do English.”
“And I could never do History,” You responded with a shake of your head. “I’ve had way too many bad high school experiences with it.” 
Steve took a quick glance at you and then focused back on the road. “Let me guess, asshole teachers that only cared if you memorized dates or not?” 
“Exactly.”
“I completely understand your hatred for it, then.” 
“Thank you,” You said. “So, what do you have against English? Too much Shakespeare bullshit in your high school classes?”
“I’ve just never been the biggest fan of reading.”
“Ouch, it truly wounds me to hear those words,” You responded and overdramatically placed a hand over your heart. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I did really like reading this one series about an Italian mouse that ran a newspaper back in like fifth grade.”
You let out a laugh. “I think that actually makes me sadder.”
He looked your way again and gave you a teasing smile. “Aw, sorry, how can I make it up to you?”
The flirty undertones of his words reminded you exactly what this night was— a date. And surprisingly, for the first time all day, for the first time all week, the smallest part of you didn’t hate that. Everything was actually, surprisingly, going okay so far. 
You suddenly regretted suggesting that you two skip dinner and just head straight to the movies; maybe dinner wouldn’t have been so bad. 
“If you let me choose the movie we watch tonight, then maybe I’ll let this whole hating reading thing slide.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“My fatal flaw is probably trying to get people who say that they don’t like reading to like reading, so I’ll find you a book you like,” You told him. “One that doesn’t involve an Italian mouse.”
You didn’t realize how much your words implied that you’d be seeing him again after tonight until you said them, and you figured it would’ve been too weird, and maybe even a little shitty, to immediately take them back, so you didn’t.  
Steve gave you a quick nod and smiled too. “Can’t wait for that.”
“I would still like to be the one to choose the movie tonight, though.” 
“That depends on how your movie taste is.” 
“It’s great,” You told him. “My roommates always look to me for recommendations, and they’ve never been disappointed.”
“How many do you have?”
“Three.” 
“Wow.” 
You laughed a bit at his surprise. “Okay, it’s not that insane.” You then considered your words for a second. “Actually, it is, but I like it. I’m guessing you don’t have any roommates?” 
Steve shook his head. “No, I like having my own space.”
“I tried that last year,” You responded. “This one bedroom dorm opened up at the last second, so I took it. But, living alone was just so boring and quiet.” 
“So you went from none to three?” He asked, sounding amused and you laughed. 
“Yeah, I know that sounds crazy, but at first, it was only going to be one. I met Robin through Eddie like a year and a half ago— even though she was a Freshman, she was in this advanced music theory class with him. We became friends easily. She hated the roommate she had and I hated living alone so we talked a lot about living together that next year. She also had a friend, Vickie, who hated the dorms too, so then it was the three of us looking for an off-campus place. But, we found this really nice four-bedroom apartment, and we thought fuck it let’s just do that, and then we found Talia on one of those “searching for roommates” Facebook pages.” You didn’t realize just how long you’d been talking until you were done. “Sorry, that was such a long-winded story.” 
Steve was pulling into the packed parking lot of the movie theater as he shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.” 
“I think you’re being way too nice to me right now,” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt once he was parked. “And I’ll return that niceness and let you pick the movie tonight. But, please, nothing that’s the Fast and the Furious or similar.”
“Shit, those are my favorite kinds of movies,” He said and you could hear the playful undertones in his voice.  
You jokingly started to rebuckle your seatbelt. “Oh, well, in that case, I think we can just end the night here.” 
“I’m kidding. My favorite genre is definitely cheesy romcoms.” 
“You’re just trying to appeal to your audience now,” You said with a playful roll of your eyes.
He smiled at you. “Is it working?”
“Maybe a little,” You said before breaking his gaze and stepping out of the car. 
Most of the showings for the new movies that were playing were either sold out or the few seats that were left weren’t next to each other, which made a lot of sense for a Friday night. In hindsight, it probably would’ve been best to have planned things a bit better earlier. 
The only non-sold out movie that you both were okay with watching was the second Hunger Games one; which was only playing because of some special thing they were doing at the theater where they were showing all of the movies from the series over the weekend. Aside from you and Steve, there were only a handful of other people in the theater, and you even had the entire row you were in to yourselves. 
You weirdly felt more comfortable than any of the other dates that you had forced yourself to go on over the past two years— which all had been nothing more and nothing less than half-assed attempts to get over Eddie; attempts that always ended with you feeling stupid and only wanting him more. 
Maybe you were completely fine at this moment because you had absolutely nothing to lose with this date. If it went badly, it wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. And you fully weren’t expecting anything to come from it, anyway. 
You also didn’t want anything more to stem from it. You weren’t using this as a way to try and get over Eddie, you were just holding up your end of the deal that you and him made.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Steve was a charmer, and he probably did this kind of thing a lot; you could tell because he was so fucking smooth at it. The way he easily found your hand and linked it with his during the first twenty minutes of the movie, and then how he eventually pushed up the armrest that sat between you two to whisper a joke into your ear, but he never put it back down and instead wrapped an arm around you as you laughed. 
It felt right to lean into his touch, and it was kind of cold in the theater, so that helped justify the decision too. And then there was also the fact that you knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him after tonight, so it felt okay to simply say “fuck it” for the time being. 
“I can’t remember the last time I saw that movie,” You said afterward as the two of you walked back to his car. “I completely forgot about the ending.” 
He was still holding your hand and you still didn’t mind it all too much. Your other hand was stuffed in the pocket of your jacket, mindlessly playing with the wrapper of your half eaten pack of Skittles. 
“Yeah, it’s kind of an insane cliffhanger for the movie to end on. It reminded me of what it felt like waiting a year for the next one,” Steve responded as he walked you to the passenger side of his car and you turned around to look up at him instead of opening the door. 
“Y’know, if you had read the books, it wouldn’t have felt like much of a cliffhanger,” You said teasingly, a small smile on your face. 
He let out a laugh. “You’re never gonna let me live down this book thing, are you?” 
“Nope, never.” 
Instead of saying anything in response to your still teasing words, Steve closed the small bit of distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours. 
Maybe you should’ve seen it coming because of how close you’d been standing and the sweet smile he was giving you right then, but you didn’t. 
His hand that wasn’t linked with yours came up to cup your cheek, and then the other let go of your hand and found your waist. 
You felt something twist in your stomach, a fluttery feeling that you weren’t at all used to, and instead of focusing on it, you attempted to simply shut your mind off completely. 
Steve was a good kisser, really good. And just for a moment, it felt entirely right to simply kiss him back and not think or worry about anything else. One of your hands took on a mind of its own and carded through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to you. 
For the briefest of moments, you genuinely felt content. Like you were living in a different version of your life, and you didn’t mind it all too much. 
But then, suddenly, it was as if everything that you shouldn’t have been thinking about, especially right then, hit you like a ton of bricks. And you were back to being your normal self. 
Your mind became consumed with nothing but thoughts of Eddie. You started wondering if his date was going well, if he was joking around and laughing with Julia, if he was kissing her too. The thought of any of that happening made you feel equal parts sad and worried. 
A part of you wished that you would’ve set him up with a shitty person so that the odds for the date going badly would be high, but you knew that you would’ve felt way too guilty about doing that. Therefore, instead you asked Julia, who you had met last semester in a creative writing class. She was really cool and interesting, and you could see her and Eddie getting along well enough.
Shit. Maybe too well? 
Now, all at once, the only thing you could really think about was how much of a bad idea this was. All of it.
You shouldn’t be standing in this parking lot kissing Steve right now. Eddie shouldn’t be out with Julia. You shouldn’t have suggested this idea in the first place, and you definitely should’ve never gone through with it. All of this was so dumb.
You were abruptly pulling away from Steve. 
“I’m sorry. I can’t,” You said softly as you dropped your gaze to the ground because it felt too hard and too embarrassing to hold eye contact with him in that moment. “It, um— This shouldn’t have happened. I… I like Eddie.”
You had never actually said those three words out loud— not even to Robin; although there were a bunch of moments in the past year and a half of knowing her that you had wanted to— and you weren’t even entirely sure why you were finally saying them in this moment. But, it felt like Steve deserved to have somewhat of an explanation as to why you needed this date to immediately end. 
“Oh,” Was all he said at first, and then he was nodding as he seemed to process what you just said. 
You weren’t sure what you expected him to say in response to your sudden confession. Perhaps it was simply your turn to talk and just ask if he could take you back to your apartment, where you were certain that you’d spend the rest of the night trying to forget that any of this ever happened.
Did you also now need to tell him to keep this secret that no one in your life knew? Maybe that was obvious? You weren’t entirely sure yet. 
But then, before you could even really think about saying anything, Steve let out a breath of a laugh, as if he was being hit with an “aha!” moment. “Oh, if this whole blind date thing was about making him jealous we could’ve done something completely different. A double date would’ve probably made a lot more sense.” 
You were quickly shaking your head at his words. “What? No. It’s not about making him jealous.”
“Okay… So, then, what is it about?” Steve asked, and somehow his question didn’t sound the least bit condescending or accusatory or annoyed, he just sounded genuinely curious. “Why did you let him set you up on a blind date and why did you set him up on one?” 
That was a great question; one that you still felt entirely embarrassed by the answer to. “I don’t know… It’s not about anything.”
Before he could ask another question that you probably wouldn’t want to answer, you were stepping away from his car and letting your feet lead you away from him and the conversation completely. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you decided that that was okay because right then all you wanted was to forget about everything that had just happened. 
You didn’t think that any of this— your need to avoid talking about what you honestly should’ve never said in the first place— really had anything to do with Steve, specifically. He was just collateral damage in this entire thing, and you actually kind of felt bad about that. He was also now the one person that knew something about you that nobody else in your life did.
You had only been walking for a few seconds, you hadn’t even left the movie theater parking lot yet, before he was catching up to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry about what I said, and for probably being an asshole back there. I’m just really confused right now,” He said as he fell in step with you. You still had no idea where you were going, but the street was long enough that you had a lot of time before you would have to choose if you wanted to make a left or right.
“No, don’t be sorry. This isn’t about what you said. Well, it is. But, I’m not mad about it,” You told him, keeping your gaze focused on the sidewalk ahead of you that was lit up by shitty streetlights on this road that you were seventy percent sure eventually led to a Target. 
Things became quiet for a moment as you two kept walking. A part of you expected him to leave you and head back to his car, but he didn’t. 
You still did not want to have this conversation— that you had technically initiated— with him, but you apparently could not run away from it, so you took a glance at him and then sighed and decided to actually be honest. “It’s just… I’m realizing that this whole thing was so stupid and I feel like such an idiot right now. I also feel like an asshole for dragging you into all of this. It was dumb of me to go on this date.”
“You’re not an idiot. And you’re not an asshole either,” Steve said with a shake of his head, and you didn’t get the chance to protest his words before he continued. “One date doesn’t really mean anything, and I didn’t expect anything more to happen after tonight.”
Hearing his words actually made you feel a little better. You still definitely felt like an idiot, but you didn’t feel too much like an asshole anymore.
“Okay,” Steve continued. “So you like Eddie.” 
Hearing the words out loud, spoken so nonchalantly and from someone that wasn’t you, felt almost too weird, and maybe even a little wrong. But then, there was also the smallest part of you that felt sort of relieved that you weren’t keeping this solely to yourself anymore.  
You were quiet for a second and then you were nodding at his previous statement before saying, “You’re the only person I’ve ever talked about this with.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, me and Eddie have a ton of the same friends, so it always just felt easier, I guess, to keep it to myself,” You explained, hands stuffing into the pockets of your jacket. “And also, never talking about it or actually admitting it out loud kind of, in a way, made it feel like it wasn’t really real. Which, I know sounds very dumb, but it was a really helpful mindset to have when he was dating someone for almost two years.”
“That makes sense,” Steve said. “Okay, I know the answer to this question is probably obvious, but you do wanna be with him, right?”
After another beat of silence, you were nodding again, no longer feeling embarrassed to admit it. You thought back to a moment that happened years ago in Eddie’s dorm room— sitting on his bed and listening to a band that he wanted to show you, and everything just suddenly switching for you. “Yeah.”
For the most part, Steve was still a stranger, but for some reason it no longer felt weird or awkward talking about this with him. And wasn’t that the saying, anyway— it was always easier to pour your heart out to a stranger? 
“Okay,” He started with a nod, and you wondered where he was going with his words. “Then, you should make him jealous.” 
You immediately laughed, assuming he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you abruptly stopped. “You’re being serious?” 
“Yeah, seriously, make him jealous,” Steve said. “Trust me, it’s a thing. If he has any sort of romantic feelings toward you, once he sees that you’re in a "relationship" he’ll finally realize it.” 
He made it sound so easy, so obvious. But, it wasn’t. 
“That’s literally impossible. I’m not anywhere close to being in a relationship.” 
“We could pretend to date,” He responded with a shrug.
And for a second, you considered it— genuinely considered it. And a part of you actually wanted to say yes, but then you were thinking about how “dating” Steve just to potentially make Eddie jealous sounded slightly manipulative and at least a little messed up. 
“I don’t know… Wouldn’t that be kind of a shitty thing to do?” 
Steve shook his head. “Okay, as a guy, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re very stupid most of the time. And sometimes we need that little push to realize something that probably should’ve been obvious.”
You had to admit, his words kinda made sense. But, doing this— fake dating him to maybe see if Eddie liked you back— had the potential of being one of the dumbest things you’d ever done. Still though, you couldn’t help but consider it. 
And maybe that was the problem. You kept considering doing anything and everything except telling Eddie how you felt. 
“I think I’ll just… finally be honest with him,” You said, but even as the words left your lips, you knew that you were lying. 
“That works too. Why haven’t you been honest with him sooner?”
You let out a sigh. “He started dating someone and I thought I missed my chance. And even though he’s been single for months now, I really don’t wanna ruin the friendship.” Saying the words aloud reminded you of how terrifyingly true they were. “You know what, maybe I’ll just keep burying my feelings down like I have been for the past few years.” 
“That sounds like a sad life.” 
“Thank you,” You said dryly as you pulled out your half-eaten bag of Skittles and poured some in your hand and then held the pack out for Steve in a silent offering. 
He opened his palm out toward you and you poured some in his cupped hand. “Thanks.” 
You two finally made it to the first intersection on the street, and you stopped for a second, thinking about whether you should go right or left or continue straight toward the eventual Target down the road. You turned around instead, and Steve followed suit, both of you walking back in the direction of his car. 
“Y’know, even if I said yes to this fake dating thing, why would you wanna do it? We’re basically strangers.” 
“I can’t just wanna help for fun?” He responded, and you simply gave him a look that said “No” without you actually needing to say it. He sighed. “Okay, it’s kind of a long story, so I’ll just say parent stuff.” 
Hearing that confused you, and you almost asked him to explain further, but you had already said no to the fake dating thing anyway, so there was actually no point in asking him about his parent stuff. 
“Okay,” You said instead and things stayed quiet as you two continued walking back to his car and you offered him what was left of the Skittles. 
The drive back to your apartment was also quiet, but it was the kind of silence that you didn’t feel like you needed to fill with your random thoughts. Probably because you were back to remembering that you wouldn’t be seeing Steve again after he dropped you off at home, so it didn’t matter what the silence felt like. And the song that was softly playing on the radio was enough to fill the air and make things feel okay too. 
“Thanks for the ride,” You said once he was parked out in front of your apartment building. You wondered if Robin, Vickie, and Talia were still watching bad reality TV in the living room. “Oh, and, um, this is probably obvious, but please don’t tell Eddie about the whole liking him thing.” 
Steve nodded. “Yeah, of course.” 
“And also, I’m still really sorry about this entire night,” You told him as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Probably the weirdest date ever for you.” 
“Don’t worry, I’ve had weirder, actually,” He said, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it still made you laugh. 
“Well, I hope I at least make the top three then.”
“You definitely do.”
“Thank you,” You smiled and then finally stepped out of his car. It honestly felt nice that things were ending on somewhat of a good note. “Goodnight.”
“‘Night.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
You hoped that the relief you felt when Eddie started telling you about how bad his date was last night wasn’t so clearly written across your face. If it was blatantly obvious, you blamed your lack of a poker face in that moment entirely on the weed. 
You were glad that you two were sitting out on his fire escape right then, side by side on one of the metal steps, because your gazes were more so focused on the buildings in the distance than on each other. 
You had initially wanted to avoid the blind date talk for as long as possible. When you showed up at his apartment a little before twelve, you planned to not ask about it and instead, you were going to talk about anything else— the dumb assignment for one of your classes that you’d been procrastinating for the past week, or the in-depth plot of the reality show that Robin, Vickie, and Talia watched last night, which they spent an hour explaining to you when you got home. 
If you did that then maybe the whole blind date thing could just be entirely forgotten and never talked about at all. That was definitely a dumb thought, but it still eased away some of your nervousness as you walked over to his place. 
But then after Eddie suggested that you two go and smoke out on the fire escape since it was a surprisingly warm day for the end of January, he was launching into how everything went last night.  
“This just reminded me why dates suck. All of the random awkward silences and shit,” He continued as he leaned back against the step. “Julia was really nice and everything, but I don’t see anything more happening. Also, she loves The Beatles, and I know it absolutely makes me an asshole to judge that, but still, The Beatles, really?”
You let out a laugh. “Yes, you’re definitely an asshole for that.”
“Anyway, how was your date with Steve?” He asked as he passed what was left of the joint back over to you, and you took a long drag of it so that you could consider your words for a few moments. 
Last night as you sat in bed, thinking about inevitably having this exact conversation with Eddie, you realized that there were a few different ways you could answer the question. You could slightly lie by saying, “It was fine, but it’s definitely not gonna lead anywhere, and I doubt I’ll see him again,” or you could be a thousand percent honest and say, “It was good at first, but then all I could think about was you because I like you and doing this whole thing was so stupid.” 
Ultimately, though, you didn’t say either of those things in this moment— even though, last night, before you came to the silly conclusion that maybe the blind date talk could be avoided altogether, you had prepared to simply take the easy way out and lie.
“It was really good,” You found yourself saying instead. Which was also a lie, but not the one that you were supposed to say. “Steve was nice and funny, and we actually got along really well. I think we’re gonna go out again.” 
You weren’t entirely sure why you were abruptly doing pretty much exactly what Steve had suggested last night, but somehow you didn’t immediately regret it, and you partly blamed that on the weed. 
Eddie turned to look at you. “Really?” 
“Yeah, I think I like him a lot,” You blurted out, only further doubling down on the entire thing. You waited for a moment to see if any part of you wanted to take back your words and just jokingly backtrack on the whole thing, but you surprisingly didn’t. 
Not even twenty-four hours ago, you thought that doing this fake dating thing was the worst idea ever, even more insane than the blind date idea. But, now all you could think was, fuck it, maybe it was actually worth a shot.
“Wow, I can’t believe I actually successfully played matchmaker for you,” Eddie said, laughing a bit. “Make sure to thank me in the vows at your and Steve’s wedding.” 
You immediately rolled your eyes and playfully hit his arm. “Ha ha. Shut up.” 
It somehow wasn’t until a lot later— when you and Eddie were on his couch sharing a bag of chips that you’d definitely have to replace because they were his roommate’s, and you were slowly starting to come down from your high— that you finally realized, Shit, did Steve still even want to do this fake dating thing? 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
next part!
taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets
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devildomwriter · 7 months ago
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“…Excuse me? You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human?! Just how clueless ARE you?! How could you not know?! Just the fact that you don’t know TSL alone is proof that you’ve been wasting your life! So, I’m going to do you a favor and teach you about TSL. Make sure you pay attention! The Tale of the Seven Lords, otherwise known as TSL, is a series of fantasy novels written by Christopher Peugeot. It’s a heroic epic spanning 138 volumes, and it’s the most widely-read fantasy series in the world. There are even theatrical versions, an animated series, and feature films, too. And it’s been translated into a total of 182 different languages. The 1990s theatrical version was an utter disaster, owing to the fact that they added several characters that were NOT present in the original manuscript. At the time I was like, “this producer totally needs to crawl into a hole and die!” But then the 2015 version came out, and it was AMAZING! Better than amazing! If you ask me, it showed that needlessly cramming a female lead in there alongside Henry was a bad idea. That’s not what he needs. What he NEEDS is a friend who really understands him, and the 2015 version proved that.
Also, the most vital element of the story is that each of the Seven lords is so unique. They’re all so interesting in their own peculiar way. That’s what makes TSL so great! The lords are all brothers…the oldest is called the Lord of Corruption. He doesn’t come across as being so bad at first, but he’s always plotting and planning in secret. The second oldest is the Lord of Fools, a scumbag who’ll do anything for money. The third oldest is called the Lord of Shadow, a brooding recluse. The fourth oldest is known as the Lord of Masks. He masquerades as a high-status, upstanding member of society, but underneath it all, he’s an inhumane monster. The fifth oldest, the Lord of Lechery, only ever thinks of sex. The sixth oldest is the Lord of Flies, and he only ever thinks of food. The seventh oldest, called the lord of Emptiness. He’s weird…you never know what’s running through his head! It seems most people like the oldest lord, the lord of corruption, the best. Everyone always talks about how great he is. But not me. I like the third Lord way more. Of course, I like Henry too. He’s the protagonist. He’s almost as great as the third lord. The second Lord is total scum, a hopeless degenerate that leads a life of extravagance and indulgence. He’s always causing trouble for the third lord. He’s got these magical pigs that can give birth to solid gold piglets, and he treasures them above all else. So Henry goes and talks to the pigs, and using his wit and powers of persuasion, he convinces them to leave with him. Then, he leads every last one of them away, and presents them to the third lord as a gift! Wow…I mean, they’re SUCH GOOD FRIENDS you can almost feel it! It’s enough to make you cry! Oh, and then there’s that one really awesome moment when the two of them realize they both like and respect each other, and they high-five! I just LOVE that part, you know? I wish I could have a moment like that. …I wish I could be like the third lord. I may be a recluse like him, but we’re totally different, because he’s got an amazing friend like Henry. Check it out. See that goldfish in the fish tank there? He’s actually named Henry. I love TSL so much that I couldn’t help naming him after the main character. But I cant really high-five a goldfish, can I?
The original author of TSL, Christopher Peugeot, he’s actually a human, you know? That’s why I’m so jealous of you guys. Humans are so lucky, you’ve got subscription services that let you watch your favorite anime anytime, you can go to Akihabara whenever you want… Why do only you guys get to experience all the good stuff? I mean, humans’ whole concept of pleasure originally came from us demons, you know? We gave it to you. So, why can’t we have a little bit of it back now, huh? I mean, I want to be able to go to a Japanese maid café, too. I want to hear the maids welcome me as if I’m the master of the house, and have them draw ketchup hearts on my fried rice omelette, to experience the magic of it all. I want to cosplay as Henry, and then go stand in the center of Akihabara, or maybe that one building in Tokyo that’s shaped like upside-down triangles. And once I’m there, I want to perform Henry’s super-powerful signature finishing move for all to see and say the incantation that goes with it. I want to shout it at the top of my lungs!...Actually you know what? I want to BE Henry.”
— Leviathan’s longest TSL rant (Chapter 1-13)
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