#i have the bestest friends in the whole wide world :))/gen

[battlecriesandroses]

Check out this bat plushie I have :3 💖 I love it it's so squishy and soooooooo cute ^^ 🩷

This is my new bearded dragon Omega!! We call her Meggie for short ^^ 🩷 She's a silly little beast

Idk how much you actually know about Hayley Williams but here are some photos of her looking like an Actual Angel 🩷

And here's a plush of My Melody with a heart cause. I love you (/p) and I hope you feel better soon 🫶 You're one of my best friends on here, you're the absolute nicest and I'm so glad we've kept in touch :) 🩷

omg dru hi!!

first of all that bat plush is so adorable oh my goodness. this is kind of a weird question but would it happen to be a squishable? i'm just asking because if it is then that would be pretty cool because i have the gargoyle one :D

secondly um omg?? a bearded dragon?? that is literally so cool???? she's so adorable too, and i love her name <33

thirdly (berdly) oh my good lord she is so beautiful um 😳😳😳😳

and lastly thank you so much. i love you (/p) too and this really made my night. thank you again <3333 😊😊😊😊😊

[trauma-trove]

God, I just like NEED to vent abt this because it's knocking around in my brain and I can't really tell anyone/don't really have the energy to have a Conversation with anyone about it. I just need to vent.

TW for domestic violence (just yelling), references to feeling unsafe, prolonged covert abuse. Everyone mentioned here is physically safe!!

Within the last week, my brother realized his two roommates of about a year have been really abusive towards him and asked them to leave. They're not paying rent, doing chores, they're not on the lease, etc. They've never been physically violent or yelled at him or anything like that, but what they DID do was like, so weird and kind of insidious?

Like, the roommates would have these "conversations" with my brother, during which they would mostly talk at and lecture him about political issues, social issues, and his own personal flaws. Like, it's okay to have serious conversations with your roommates, but these conversations would last 4-6 HOURS, and they had these conversations almost every single day. That's not normal or healthy communication to begin with, but it was really abusive because if my brother didn't drop everything and have these conversations, they'd accuse him of "putting it off" and "avoiding his serious issues." They wouldn't let him sleep when they were up. They wouldn't let him nap during the day after work. They NEVER let him hang out or voice call or game with me because they were so busy monopolizing his time with these "conversations."

Like, I'm sorry, but if your attempts to "fix someone" requires that level of lecturing and time monopoly almost every single day, give up.

And then I found out most of their problems with him were about him being "emotionally unavailable" and "distancing himself from them" and I'm like. My mans was tired bestie!! All he does is work 6 hour shifts and come home to be politely bitched at with Therapy Words for hours and hours and hours on end. He's allowed to have some alone time. Quit taking it personally. The fact that he WASN'T doing anything really worth criticizing--let alone lecturing him about it so much--is just wild to me.

Anyway, this last week a couple things got thrown out of balance. My brother visited with some normal friends for a few days, and it gave him perspective on the whole situation. His roommates started going on about how they were So Afraid of being kicked out and shit, but my brother reassured them over and over again that he wasn't gonna do that.

Well. Cut to a couple days ago. They were having another one of their "conversations," and the MINUTE my brother tried standing up for himself for ONCE in his life, his roommates immediately blew up on him and then proceeded to scream at him through his bedroom door for 7 hours. SEVEN. HOURS.

They were being so hostile and not letting him speak and cutting him off and calling him a gaslighter and recording parts of their conversation on their phones, all while yelling at him for hours and hours and hours on end just because he told them he did not have the capacity to be their live-in therapist and bestest westest friend in the whole wide world 24/7. Like, I don't care what kind of problem you have with somebody; you can't just scream at your roommate through their door for 7 hours. Like who does that?? Hello??

It's weird to me because I feel like this form of slowburn abuse doesn't get talked about. But I know a LOT of abusers my age (gen z, essentially) who had this specific behavior of "have hours-long, deep conversations almost every single day with no boundaries." I do understand that you can get hooked on deep conversations, and they can even be obsessive-compulsive loops or a form of rumination for people with OCD, ptsd, bpd, and other conditions. But when you cannot appropriately regulate when you have these conversations and for how long, it becomes a problem. And if you have an extreme reaction like all that just because someone disagreed with you or put their foot down in a way you didn't like, it's 100% part of the abuse cycle.

Idk, theres so much more to the situation than that, but I really should save it for journalling and therapy. I've just been so overwhelmed by it. My brothers been giving running updates in the groupchat lol. And it's REALLY impressive that he put his foot down (even kind of going back on his word not to kick them out) just because they got aggressive over a stupid disagreement. My brother's been in one million abusive relationships. Neither of us ever really learned how to be a person. (If you've seen any other posts on this blog, you probably have an idea the kind of shit he went through.) So the fact that he sat on the other side of that door and said "nuh-uh, we don't act like this on barbie dot com. You stop yelling at me and you leave my house" is like. Really relieving to hear, I guess.

[serendipity-writes]

In Which Steve Plots Robin's Murder

Written for Harringrove Week July 2022! Prompt: working at the car wash

Fics for this event: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Rated Gen, 2.2k

Summary:

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“A topless car wash,” Robin repeats gleefully, practically bouncing in place. “The band’s gonna make so much money off of this. Maybe we’ll even be able to ditch the decade-old uniforms.”

Unfortunately for Steve, his life is so batshit insane nowadays that once the initial shock wears off, he realizes this is like, the least concerning thing he’s heard in the last month.

read on ao3

--

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“A topless car wash,” Robin repeats gleefully, practically bouncing in place. “The band’s gonna make so much money off of this. Maybe we’ll even be able to ditch the decade-old uniforms.”

Unfortunately for Steve, his life is so batshit insane nowadays that once the initial shock wears off, he realizes this is like, the least concerning thing he’s heard in the last month. “Right, yes. End-of-year fundraising, that’s fantastic. How exactly did you get this approved by administration?”

Robin shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, you know, Jenny Fischer can be very persuasive.”

What she probably means by that is that Jenny stole her dad’s credit card and made a hefty “donation” to the school again. The rumor is that’s how she managed to convince the school board to hold prom at an offsite venue, which Steve definitely wasn’t upset about. And you know what? If the school okayed it, this car wash thing really isn’t his problem.

“Well, I hope you have fun,” he says, mostly trying to end the conversation because he somehow got roped into making a casserole for “family dinner” at the Byers’ and he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. Robin scoffs as he cracks open the oven. The edges look a little burnt, but the inside is still raw. Maybe he should turn the heat up?

“I’m not gonna be working it,” she says, as though Steve’s an idiot for even thinking that. “Besides, you have to come! We need some of that sweet, sweet blood money, Harrington.”

It’s smoking a little bit now, but like, not that much. “Sure, whatever,” he says as he fans the oven with a dishtowel.

“Great! It’s tomorrow from noon to three,” Robin hollers as she sprints out the door, her mission apparently complete.

Steve doesn’t really register her words. This casserole is looking more and more unsalvageable. What did his mom’s recipe even say? He casts about for it, but it’s nowhere to be found. Ah well, maybe the microwave will fix it.

He ends up buying one from the grocery store and letting Joyce cook it in her oven.

* * *

A knock, sharp and loud, echoes through Steve’s house at precisely 12:26 pm. He sets down the cereal he’d been shoving unceremoniously into his mouth and pads to the door, clad only in the shirt and boxers he slept in last night. It’s Saturday, who the hell is bothering him at this ungodly hour?

Robin, apparently. She doesn’t wait for a greeting or an invitation inside, just barges her way past Steve. “Ready to go?” she asks despite the clear evidence to the contrary, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Go where?” Steve asks as he reacquaints himself with his box of cereal. He leans his hip against the counter and raises an eyebrow at Robin when she just blinks at him, apple juice running down her chin.

“‘Go where?’” she repeats incredulously. “‘Go where,’ he says! Steve, Steve, Steve, did you listen to a single thing I said last night?”

He casts his mind back to crashing on the Byers’ couch for a couple of hours, before that to getting high with Jonathan on their front porch, even further to making that disaster of a casserole. That’s right, Robin was there for that bit.

“Yeah, your band fundraiser thing. The car wash, right?”

“Bingo,” she says, crunching into her apple. “And you said we would go today, to support your bestest friend in the whole wide world. So, here I am, ready for us to go.”

Honestly, that… sounds like something Steve would do. “Alright, give me a minute to put on actual clothes,” he says. Robin snorts. Before he’s even halfway up the stairs, she’s got her hand in his cereal box.

Five minutes later they’re on the road, heading toward the Hawkins High parking lot, which Steve thinks should be considered a crime on the weekend, even if it is the summer. About a mile away, signs begin appearing along the side of the road. Some of them are tame, advertising the band fundraiser aspect of the event, while others take a bit of a different approach. Steve’s personal favorite is the one that just says “TOPLESS CAR WASH” in big black letters on a white poster board. There’s nothing else on the poster, and for some reason Steve finds that hilarious.

Robin’s sporting a maniacal grin in the seat next to him, and he wasn’t terribly worried last night but now he’s starting to be.

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Steve gets the joke. It is indeed a topless car wash, but all the washers in question are dudes. He thinks he recognizes a couple as band kids from the last few basketball games he played, but there are definitely guys out here that aren’t in the band. Steve wonders how they got roped into this. He has to give credit where credit is due, though; every one of them committed to the bit. He admires their dedication, even if there isn’t much else to admire.

He pays the two dollar entrance fee, then gets into the line. It creeps forward agonizingly slowly.

“This better be worth my two dollars, Buckley,” he threatens, and she chortles.

“Oh, it will be,” she promises, and suddenly Steve’s not sure he should be here.

But then he finds himself at the front of the line, and he’s waved all the way down to a spot at the very end of the swathe of soapy cars. After a moment, and what sounds like a short scuffle behind his car, a knuckle raps on his window. Steve obediently rolls it down, and this is where the problem arises.

Because Billy fucking Hargrove bends down to stick his head in Steve’s car, elbows resting on the edge of his door. And he is in fact topless, as the posters promised.

Steve is immeasurably glad he actually put on a clean shirt before walking out the door.

“Hello, valued customer,” Billy drawls, tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. Jesus Christ. “I’ll be servicing you today.” Steve doesn’t know how a person can make a wink look that fucking dirty. He’s gonna have an aneurysm.

“Don’t break anything, Hargrove,” he says on autopilot, thank God. Billy shakes his head before straightening up, purposefully flexing his bronzed abs and almost certainly lingering to make sure Steve gets an eyeful.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty boy,” he says, thumping the roof of the car as if to disprove his point. “And you might wanna roll that window up, unless you wanna get wet,” he adds before sauntering around the front of the car to grab a sponge and a bucket of soapy water.

“Thanks,” Steve calls out sarcastically before doing just that. As soon as it’s closed, he turns to Robin, careful to keep his face neutral and his voice low in case Billy’s looking or listening in. “Hey, what the actual fuck.”

Robin looks like she’s barely holding back laughter. “You should have seen your face,” she hisses, smiling so wide she looks like she’s fucking insane. Steve isn’t quite sure she isn’t.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was a fucking riot. What the hell is he doing here?”

Of course, now Robin pulls her face into something resembling sincerity. “Hmm, washing cars I think. Yeah, that seems right.”

Billy starts wiping the sponge over Steve’s windshield, much slower than is really necessary. When he catches Steve’s gaze through the glass, he grins the kind of grin he likes to toss around near the mothers of Hawkins. Steve gives him a tight smile in return and pointedly does not watch the beads of sweat and water dripping down his toned arms.

“Okay, let me rephrase,” he starts, still very much not looking at Billy. “Why the hell is he here?”

Robin shrugs in his peripheral vision. “I’ve heard Jenny Fischer is quite persuasive.” He can hear the laughter in her voice. What a betrayal.

“That’s the same thing you said last night,” Steve grits out. He really wishes Billy would get on with it and move to the back. Of his car. The back of his car.

Robin claps, exaggerated excitement suffusing her voice when she squeals, “So you did listen to me!”

Steve rolls his eyes. Billy’s washing the driver’s side window now, and Steve has to physically turn away to hide the redness he knows is spreading over his face. “I don’t know what game you’re running here,” he says, even though he knows exactly what game Robin’s running here, “but you severely overcharged me.”

“Whatever you say.”

Robin’s undeniably smug as she settles back into the passenger seat, arms crossed over her chest. Steve’s going to strangle her. “I’m going to strangle you.”

“Better wait until we’re alone, pretty boy,” she mocks. Fuck his life.

Billy finally does get around to the back of the car, and for some unknowable reason, he seems to wash it much faster than the front. He still winks at Steve in the rearview, though. Steve flips him off in return, and he can practically feel Billy’s laugh even though he only sees it in the mirror.

Billy drags an upturned bucket over to use as a stepstool so he can get to the top of the car. Steve is one hundred percent sure it’s just an excuse to show off his ass in those fucking skinny jeans. They should be illegal. They’ve caused casualties before, Steve’s seen it. He does his time in the parking lot on school days.

But fortunately (or unfortunately, a traitorous part of his brain whispers), he only has to spend a few minutes trying not to make direct eye contact with the zipper on Billy’s jeans before he hops down from the bucket and drags a hose over from… somewhere. One quick rinse later, and he’s knocking on Steve’s window again.

“Clean as a dream, Harrington,” he says as soon as Steve starts rolling it down. “Hope you enjoyed your experience at the Hawkins High Band Car Wash.” Steve can hear the capital letters. It almost makes him laugh.

“Customer service could have been better,” he says instead. Billy raises an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that makes Steve’s heart race. “Do let me know how I can improve for the future.”

The easy answer is to complain that it took too long or the job was sub-par (which Steve is pretty sure it is), but Billy doesn’t go for the easy answers, and two can play at that game.

“You could have put on a better show,” Steve says, gesturing across the parking lot where several girls he recognizes from school, as well as some of their mothers, are desperately trying to look like they’re not watching Billy as they speak. “I don’t think every member of the fan club got to see you flexing your biceps.”

He has the satisfaction of seeing Billy’s eyes widen, hearing a surprised chuckle burst from his mouth, before he’s leaning forward, grin almost predatory. “I think the real fan club is in this car, Harrington,” he drawls. It sends a shiver down Steve’s spine.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he replies, but even he knows it’s not his best work. “Now back up so I can leave.”

Billy steps back, hands raised in a show of surrender. “You’re the boss!” he calls as Steve drives away. He sticks his hand out the window to flip Billy off one more time for the road.

He doesn’t understand the unusual number of people who snicker at him as he drives home until he parks his car in his driveway and actually opens the door. Or, tries to, because something’s holding it shut. Driving his shoulder into the door works on the third try, by which time Robin’s already out and collapsed in a fit of laughter on the pavement. Steve slams his door shut and stalks a few steps away to observe the full scope of what’s happened.

There, larger than life, across the whole side of his car, is a crude depiction of a penis made out of what appears to be masking tape.

For a moment, Steve’s almost impressed. He doesn’t know when or how Billy managed it; Steve was watching him the whole time. Wait, no he wasn’t. Billy had plenty of opportunities, definitely. Yeah.

So now he’s just pissed, stripping the tape off his car and rubbing at the sticky residue it leaves behind. “Robin, I swear to God—” he starts, then cuts himself off. Death threats are nothing new between them, and he needs to put the fear of God in her for pulling this shit on him. “I am going to lock you in a utility closet with Tammy Thompson for an entire week.”

“Oh my God, Steve, noooooo,” she whines from the ground. “Don’t do that to me! I don’t deserve to be bullied like this!”

She definitely does, but Steve thinks that walking into his house two weeks later to find him and Billy furiously sucking face against the kitchen counter, screaming something about her pure, innocent eyes, Steve! and promptly leaving the way she came might be punishment enough.

He searches Tammy Thompson’s number up in the phone book just in case.

[sleepyverstappens]

Let me share this whole new world with you (Chapter 5/6)

Title: Let me share this whole new world with you

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

Rating: Gen/PG

Word Count: 9358

Tags: Daniel Ricciardo, Max Verstappen, Oliver Verstappen-Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz Jr, Mateo Sainz, Lotte Verstappen-Ricciardo, 5+1 Things, original child character, mostly focusses on Max and Oliver but there is some maxiel in this, Fertility Issues

A/N:  This chapter mentions (male) fertility issues, it's not super super in depth but if that's something tricky for you skip the part between these signs *  

Summary: The first time Oliver gets to share the paddock with his little sister. 

Read chapter 4 or Read from the start

5) Winter testing, Montmeló, Spain 2028  (Oliver is 6 and a half)

The paddock is bustling, but a lot more quiet than on a normal race weekend. There’s only a few photographers around, fewer TV crews set up in the media centre and none of the sponsor celebrities are around. It feels different this time around, introducing a new person to this world. With Oliver it had been a packed Spa paddock, with Lotte it’s a quiet Wednesday morning. The little girl strapped into the sling across Dan’s chest, Oliver holding onto Max’s hand loosely, itching to run off and play with his friends.

As they pass the McLaren hospitality he’s already pulling at Max’s hand, trying to get them to say hello to Carlos and Lando and more importantly Mateo. “Daddy, papa, pleaseeee!” he begs them.

“We will go see Mateo in a bit sweetie, your sister needs her feed first. You wanted her to grow quickly so you can play with her right?” Dan reasons. Oliver had loved the idea of a little sister, someone to play with and to teach things, but he hadn’t really fully understood that Lotte would need to do a lot of growing before they could really play together. He loved her, he really did, cuddling and kissing her all the time, but at just two months old she couldn’t really play football with him yet.  

*They hadn’t wanted there to be quite this big of an age gap, to have their kids be closer in age like both him and Daniel and their sisters. They’d started trying again right after Daniel retired, using the same clinic as before with Oliver. They’d known then already that there were some issues with Dan’s fertility, a lower sperm count found in his samples, but, they’d said, IVF is usually the solution for this and since they’d been going that route anyway it wouldn’t be an issue, just one viable little sperm could already be enough.

With Oliver clearly being Max’s biologically they’d easily settled on trying with just Daniel’s sperm this time around, but after trying multiple times there still had been no successful fertilization. Dan had done test after test, yet every one of them had come back inconclusive. It had been a big strain on their relationship, Daniel feeling so insecure and just being down on himself for not being able to do this. Angry at Max that there had been no issue with his sperm, angry at Max that he could go and escape to the race track whilst Dan was left alone in a stale hospital room or alone with his thoughts.

When no real explanation or solution came they’d sat down and had a long talk. They were happy with Oliver, did they really want to let the stress of this let them break them, break what they already had. They’d both wanted another child so much though, wanted Oli to have what they had with their siblings. So after two years of trying and failing, instead of wasting more money and more time, though money really wasn’t the issue, they’d come to their own solution. Like Dan had said back when they were waiting for Oliver to be born, DNA isn’t everything, it’s them who shape their child into the little human they become, not just genetics.

After days poured over files from both egg donors and surrogates, they had found Amber. She could’ve been Daniel’s female doppelganger, long curly brown hair, the same colour brown eyes, tan skin and an infectious smile. Nine months later little Lotte was born, a tuft of dark hair already on her small little head and Max’s pout on her lips just like with Oliver. All worries and insecurities about her not being biologically Dan’s had fallen away as soon as his husband had held her in his arms. She was theirs no matter what.

*The last couple of years had been a struggle to get through, but they fought through it together coming out from the fight stronger than they’d ever been. And as they walked around the paddock, Oliver whining about wanting to go see his friend and their little girl strapped onto Daniel’s chest, their family was at home and perfectly complete.

A disgruntled little cry coming from Lotte pulled Max back from his thoughts, the four of them now having arrived at the Red Bull hospitality he quickly rummaged through the baby bag slung over his shoulder for the bottle of formula and set about making their daughter her bottle.

---

“Papa please can we go see Mateo now, pleaseee?” Oliver whined as soon as Lotte was fed, burped and happily dozing back off to sleep again. He was bouncing in his seat impatiently, their hyperactive boy at that age now where he wanted to go and explore the paddock on his own but they weren’t quite comfortable yet by letting him wander off on his own. The paddock was a lot more quiet during testing though, so maybe they would extend the ‘leash’ a little more these coming two weeks, he was nearly seven after all.

“Okay let’s go. You coming as well Dan? I’m sure Carlos and Lando would love to see our little princess as well,” he suggested, grinning as Oli let out a cheer.

“Yeah of course, where did they put the stroller you said? I’m sure they’ll wanna hold her, so this thing won’t really work,” he said gesturing to the now empty carrier on the chair next to him.

“They somehow managed to cram it into my driver’s room,” Max chuckled, the space was already crowded enough as it was without the giant stroller taking up most of the space.

“Okay, you guys go see Mateo, I’ll be right behind you.”

---

“Mateo, Mateo, I have a little sister!” Oli exclaimed as soon as he caught sight of the Spanish little boy. His dark brown hair falling into his eyes, styled similar to his father’s hair. The two of them hadn't seen each other since the last race of the season last year, Max and Dan too occupied by the impending arrival of their daughter in January for them to get in some time to see their friends in England. Oliver had clearly missed little Mateo and they easily fell back into their old routine, Oliver excitedly telling the other boy about his little sister.    

“Really?! Where is she?”

“She’s with daddy. Papa where’s daddy?” The little boy asked tugging on his sleeve to get his attention as Max was talking to Lando.

“Daddy will be here soon, he’s just getting the...” before he could even finish the sentence Oliver was already running off and as he turned around he could see Daniel walking over to them, pushing the dark blue stroller in front of him.

“Daddy, daddy can I show Lotte to Mateo, please!”

“Of course mate, but you gotta go sit down first remember?” He could hear Daniel answer as the two of them reached the McLaren hospitality. Oliver quickly went to sit down on the nearest chair available and waited impatiently for Dan to carefully put his sister into his waiting arms. His eyes going wide like always when he felt her weight in his arms, the feeling clearly hadn’t gotten old to their son yet either in these last two months.

“Gently cariño,” Carlos said as Mateo inched forward and reached his little hand out to stroke Lotte’s head, gasping a little when Lotte wrapped her little fingers around two of his own, holding on tight.

“She’s so little,” he whispered in awe, eyes wide as he looked up at his father and step-dad.

“Yes, my little sister. I’m a big brother now Teo, ‘m here to protect her and love her and give her lots of cuddles!”  

Max could feel the tears well up in his eyes, hearing Oliver say those words always tugged at his heartstrings, the boy adamant to keep up the promise he’d made before Lotte was born. He could feel Dan squeeze his hand, and when he looked at his husband he could see his watery eyes blink back.

“Papa, I want to be a big brother too!” They could hear Mateo explain to Carlos, making Carlos splutter and the rest of them chuckle. They could see him share a quick glance with Lando, the youngest of them having expressed wanting one of his own on multiple occasions. They knew he loved Mateo with all his heart, but they also knew he really wanted to share it, all of it with Carlos. Little Mateo loved him like a second father, but he would always have Isa as his mother.      

“Maybe cariño, maybe.”

“You would be the best big brother Teo, I just know it,” Lando said, a wistful look in his eyes. The Brit clearly already picturing what it would be like, a little baby cradled in his own arms. Mateo holding his own little brother or sister one day.

“No! I am the bestest big brother!” Oliver said with a pout, pressing a big wet kiss onto Lotte’s forehead to prove his point.

“No, I will be!”

“Okay, okay boys calm down, you can both be the best big brother. You will be to Lotte, Oli. And you will be to your little brother or sister Mateo. No need to fight about it,” Max said exasperated, trying to calm the boys down as best as he could. They were each other’s best friends and he didn’t want them to end up fighting over such a silly thing, though Max was sure they would have plenty of dumb fights over the years.  

He glanced over at Lando who mouthed oops, a grimace on his face as he witnessed the results his words had had. Max just shrugged, the boys had already seemed to have calmed down again, Lotte now in Carlos’ arms as the boys ran around the hospitality chasing each other. Oh to be able to resolve all fights so easily, Max thought, he would’ve much prefered a quick game of chase around the paddock instead of all the sleepless nights he’d had during the last couple of years he’d been with Daniel, fighting over everything and nothing. He wouldn't change it for the world though, he'd gotten his perfect little family after all.