#parade helmet
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ukdamo · 2 years ago
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Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: this 1st CE Roman parade helmet, housed in Istanbul's archaeological museum, and excavated from the Vize tumulus.
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feketeribizli · 3 months ago
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are the significant upgrades in the room with us
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demigod-of-the-agni · 11 months ago
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Cloud, internally: I am suave. I am cool. I am the epitome of grace. I kill without mercy, I fight with the strength of a hundred men, I am one of the underappreciated greatest. Shinra is filled with dumbasses, but I am the very few who still retain good cognitive function
Cloud, in front of a large crowd: uh
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spookysofi · 2 months ago
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when in the 5 nights in LA at the Kia Forum in 2022 the drum kit had increasing tick marks for bullets, revenge, danger days, and the final night but on BLACK PARADE night it was a picture of someone in a RECORDING STUDIO. I am going to EXPLODE.
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breakingjustxn · 3 months ago
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idk if im built different or something but terrifier 3 was NOT scary and instead funny imo // credits: @poppunkandpunkrock on instagram
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thefigureresource · 9 months ago
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Pop Up Parade Goblin Slayer [Goblin Slayer] non scale from Good Smile Company will be re-released August 2024.
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moth-like-habits · 2 years ago
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Y’all the Elden Ring streams are SO hilarious
Zloy: I just reached out for your like- belly button
Pix: haha you won’t find it!
Zloy: uh well yes
Pix: I’ve had it removed in a deadly ritual
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petit-papillion · 1 year ago
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The offending paddock pass Charles later got stuck in the door of the Drivers' Parade Ferrari.
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Just no luck at all this Sunday...
US Grand Prix | 22 October 2023
📸 David Buono/Icon Sportswire, Jim Watson
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soul-of-rei · 9 months ago
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astarion always being given the shadowheart coded items first and foremost in neils playthrough being a Trend i see
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republicsecurity · 1 year ago
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Paras on Parade
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Marching in the parade with the helmet on is an oddly serene experience. It's like being in the middle of a bustling city, but all the noise, the chaotic chatter of the crowd, is muffled. The HUD is set to blinker mode, and suddenly, it's as if there's a protective bubble around me.
The rhythmic thud of our boots hitting the pavement becomes the soundtrack of the moment. Commands are crisp and clear, transmitted directly into my earpiece. I can focus on the precision of our formation, the synchronicity of our movements. It's almost meditative, in a way.
The vision, usually directed forward, occasionally highlights important points of interest – statues, displays, or notable landmarks. It's a controlled and calculated experience. And sometimes, there's music – marches that keep us in step, like a well-oiled machine.
Wearing the helmet, I feel a sense of detachment from the outside world, cocooned in my own little universe. It's a unique perspective, one that lets me appreciate the parade in a different way, even if it's not the same as what the cheering crowds experience.
The directors are strategic in their use of blinker mode. It's not just about reducing sensory overload; it's about emphasizing our dedication. When they highlight a specific point of interest, be it a statue of a revered figure or a display representing our values, they're sending a message to the onlookers.
It's a subtle way of saying, "Look at these paramedics, these conscripts. See their unwavering focus, their commitment to duty." The blinker mode isolates our attention on what matters, and it amplifies the solemnity of the occasion.
As we march past, the crowd sees our unbroken ranks, our synchronized movements, and our undistracted dedication. It's a powerful image, and it reinforces the ideals of the Paramedic Corps. We might not hear the cheers or the applause, but our message is loud and clear: we are here to serve, to protect, and to honor our commitments.
The blinker mode, with its orchestrated precision and focus on dedication, is indeed a powerful symbol of life in the Paramedic Corps. It encapsulates the essence of our existence – unwavering commitment, obedience, and selflessness. It's a stark reminder of the conditioning, the training, and the conformity we've all undergone.
The world beyond the blinkers becomes a blur. Cheers and applause from the spectators fall on deaf ears, mere background noise to our purpose-driven march.
In some ways, it's an apt metaphor for our entire existence. The blinkers narrow our view, block out distractions, and channel our energy into fulfilling our duties. It's a life of routine, discipline, and adherence to orders.
This is a subjective account of the description here:
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oldtvlover · 2 years ago
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Hey E! Gang,
my standalone Gif from my yesterday’s episode.
So nice when Cap Stanley looks after the kid, shows her the engine and gives her his helmet. Such a nice gesture! Aw, I love this man.
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hsundholm · 3 months ago
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A Zombie Soldier by Henrik Sundholm Via Flickr: A zombie soldier I saw at the most recent Stockholm Zombie Walk.
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excelsior9173 · 1 year ago
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when we were young fest just announced next years lineup and i swear to god if i can’t go it will end me
simple plan is playing no pads, no helmets… just balls in full!!! i have been in love with that album since it came out when i was 2 years old. i’ve been singing it my entire life. i’ve seen simple plan four times now in two different countries on two continents, i have to see them again! i have yet to hear every npnhjb song live. i cannot even begin to explain the things i would do to hear my alien
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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago
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Knight Johnny and Simon tasked with taking care of their kings beloved daughter. She's a gem and deserves nothing but the best in regards to security. A job only they were deemed worthy enough for. The kings daughter, a living treasure, required their constant vigilance.
Failure was not an option.
Your timidity startled them upon introduction. Their king's daughter - so meek? You mumbled, eyes averted, fidgeting with your silk gown.
They anticipated a bolder spirit, akin to your sister. She daily paraded knights Kyle and Price through the village, flaunting them like trophies. Her sharp tongue challenged them at every turn. Yet the duo knew how those knights truly managed their princess behind closed doors.
You were clearly the calmer choice out of the rest.
The first couple days, you gave them no strife, an obedient thing who likes to keep to herself and read in the library. A harmless gem. So why did the other servants regard you with such cautiousness.
"Do not let her fool you." A servant whispers hastily, their steps as quick as their warning.
Johnny scoffs, the warning falling on deaf ears. His princess reigns supreme, unblemished. You? A fragile creature in his eyes - wobbly legs, wide-eyed naivety. Soap erases concerns, leaving only blind adoration.
Across the room, Ghost's eyes narrow. Your fearful gaze meets his, then darts away as if scorched. He silently absorbs the warning, his intense stare lingering.
Innocence's wings concealed mysterious. What laid beneath your angelic facade?
Inside the castles keep, Simon shed his armor, his blunt words filling their shared chamber. "The princess doesn't sit well with the servants. We'd best tread lightly."
Johnny lounged on his bed, eyes closed, arms cradling his head. "These walls thrive on gossip," he retorted. "You, of all people, should know better than to indulge it."
Simon, stripped of his knights garb, turned to face Johnny, a twinge of mirth in his eyes. "Yer just saying that because she's not giving you work."
"A likely assumption."
"Likely? You end up nodding off in the archive with how quiet it is."
"Really now? And what about you getting all red eared when she offers you to sit for tea. You don't say anything then."
The pair continue their banter back and forth, their "friendship" one formed through bonds on the field and off.
Their banter could've lasted the entire night if it weren't for a gentle knock against the wooden door, causing them to halt.
Simon tensed. His first instinct was to reach for his sword, Johnny, however, already made to the entrance. No one ever visited them this late or even had the courtesy to knock. Cautiously, he opened the door, only to be met with you.
Candle in hand. You stood draped in purple silk. Your nightgown's trim trailed behind you. Johnny's eyes met yours briefly, taking in your sweet expression. His gaze then wandered downward, drawn to your décolletage - your breasts pushed up enticingly, spilling over like frothy ale in a brimming tankard.
"Jewel, what are you doing here?" Soap inquired, peeking his head out of the threshold to ensure no one else wandered the halls. "Come inside, it won't do good for your reputation if you're seen."
Johnny's gentle aura drew you near while Simon's barriers held you back. The candle flickered on a nearby table as you approached the stoic knights. Nightfall had brought silence, the servants long gone. Loneliness crept into your room, driving you to seek comfort in the oddest of places. "Might I rest here tonight?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper in the dim chamber.
Johnny crumbled right there. How could he say no to his princess? With a guiding hand pressed against your back tenderly, he leads you further inside. "Of course. You just have to leave before sunrise, my lady."
Clad only in underwear and an incongruous helmet, Simon looked absurd. "Johnny, this is bloody insane," he hissed. "If rumors spread, we're dead men walking. And her reputation? Shattered beyond repair."
Johnny tugs you onto his bed, smirking at Simon. "We'll be stealthy, jewel," he whispers, making room beside him. Your drowsy nod seals the deal. He drapes the covers over you both, triumph gleaming in his eyes. Who would turn down sleeping next to a princess?
Simon's fury simmered beneath the surface. Jealousy and caution warred within him, but he couldn't change the outcome. "Your choice, your consequences," he growled. Snuffing out candles, he retreated. His heavy steps and angry shuffles punctuated the air as he returned to bed, seething silently.
Simon's ears perked up late in the night. A wet sound broke the peace, followed by hushed whispers and moans. Until then, only slumbering knights, watchmen, and crickets disturbed the tranquil darkness. Now, an unsettling change rippled through the air.
"Shh, jewel," Johnny's voice cautioned.
"J-Johnny—I'm trying—"
Simon froze.
Johnny's whisper had pierced the silence and your muffled response - your voice, trembling, sent Simon's heart into a frenzy. His eyes fluttered open behind his helmet. Heart racing, he peered into the darkness, straining to glimpse the unfolding scene. Your stifled moans confirmed his suspicions, sending a shiver down his spine.
---
A/N
Trying out a new writing style, I don't like the way I write usually bc it seems way too casual? So wordhippo and analyzing some of my favorite writers on here are like toast and butter.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago
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look after you * fem!driver
the heat of the qatar race alongside her period proved to be much more than she can handle; although she doesn’t tell anybody that
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, alex albon x fem!driver, carlos sainz x fem!driver, charles leclerc x fem!driver
warnings: mentions of period, not feeling well
notes: hi i told u we're back to regularly scheduled fem!driver content... although, i do have a plan for something else later tonight! i also seem to be getting over my writer's block, sOOO WE SHOULD BE GOOD TO GO WITH THE REST OF MY FICS
also, i'm very curious where u guys think i'm from because i'm awake at the most ludicrous of hours answering asks and messages so like idk
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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she sits back in her seat, eyes darting all over the garage as mechanics and engineers scramble around to prepare her car for the race later today.
the sprint race yesterday was just as excruciating as she expected. the heat, the intensity of the race, and the fact that she's suddenly got her period was not a good mix as it proves.
she barely survived the duration of the sprint yesterday. she was visibly pale climbing out of her car, chest heaving and makeup melting off as she took her helmet off. it didn't take long for sebastian to catch on to her state when she entered the garage after weigh-in.
"kid," sebastian stops right in front of her, head tilted to the side in concern. he's got a cold can of pepsi in his hands when she looks up. "are you feeling okay? you don't have to race today if you're not well."
"no, i'm fine," she nods, taking the pepsi into her hands. she smiles up at him weakly as she sips on the straw. "i'm okay."
"well, you didn't look very okay yesterday," sebastian frowns. "don't be pressured to race tonight if you don't feel like it. your safety is more important than the race and it's unbelievably hot here tonight."
she shakes her head, slowly getting up as she remembers the drivers' parade that she has to attend. "i can definitely race today. i promise i'm fine," she reassures him with a pat to his shoulder. "i just need more pepsi to feel refreshed."
"you've got to drink water at some point for hydration," sebastian mutters. "i've got some in the freezer for before the race. drink it, okay?"
she grins at him with a thumbs up, slowly exiting the garage. "i will drink the ice cold water."
when she turns around to walk towards where other drivers have gathered, she backs into somebody's body, making her whirl around with an apology on her lips.
"i'm so sorry!"
"oh, it's alright!" a familiar giggle fills her ears and a hand comes up to her shoulder to offer some support. when she turns around, alex is smiling down at her as he steps aside to walk with her. "oh, your hair is up in a ponytail today. is something wrong?"
"what?" she's taken aback by the question - why is her ponytail such a big deal? "what about the ponytail?"
"i've just never seen you bring your hair up before on a race weekend," alex frowns, tugging at a strand of hair gently. “you look cute. and- oh, no makeup today?”
she shakes her head with a frown. “the heat practically melted my makeup off yesterday. that shit’s expensive and uncomfortable,” she mutters, bottom lip out in a pout as they walk.
when they approach the small group gathered by the pit lane, she’s greeted by oscar’s surprised gasp and carlos’s confused head tilt.
she lifts her arms, palms into the sky as she throws them a scowl. “what?”
carlos tears his eyes away immediately, but oscar maintains his gaze on her. “you’re not wearing any makeup.”
“yeah, so?”
oscar furrows his eyebrows and turns his body away from her. “nothing, just odd. you typically like doing your makeup.”
“it’s too hot to do my makeup,” she sighs, not liking that she has to repeat herself. “it practically melted off during yesterday’s sprint.”
“that’s true. comfort over anything else,” carlos nods with an approving smile. “please remember to drink some water later.”
“you and seb are so alike,” she grins, patting the spaniard’s shoulder. “that’s exactly what he told me earlier.”
“yeah, because everyone knows you don’t drink water when you’ve got,” oscar snatches the drink in her hand, “a pepsi in your hand. so unhealthy.”
“well, it makes me feel so sparkly in my mouth,” she fights back, snatching it back. “mind your own drink!”
“what’s u– you look different today,” logan says, slowly approaching the circle. with a hand on the small of her back, he tilts his head slightly as he scans her face. “is it the hair?”
“no, mate,” oscar smirks, “she didn’t do her makeup.”
“oh! how come?” logan frowns, pinching her cheek. “i was wondering why you hadn’t sent a selfie to the groupchat yet begging for compliments.”
“yeah, true,” oscar chuckles. “that does seem to be a trend, doesn’t it?”
“you guys get selfies for free?” carlos frowns. “she always asks me to pay like a thousand every weekend i ask her what she’s wearing to the paddocks.”
“only a thousand? she asks me for millions,” alex finally speaks again with the shake of his head. “what a business woman you are.”
carlos raises an eyebrow. “all jokes aside though… you are looking a bit pale. are you feeling okay?”
she smiles, a thumbs up raised next to her face. “of course!”
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“mate, you don’t look very well,” she mutters, sipping on her pepsi as she approaches logan. “the flu still got you bad?”
“pretty bad,” logan sighs, slumping his shoulders. “but i’ll be alright.”
she hums, pressing her lips together as she looks at him from the side of her eye. “i’m not sure if i believe you, actually.”
“if anyone’s more of a liar between us, it’s you,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you look worse than i do and you just keep insisting you’re fine
“is it because i’ve not got makeup on?” she scowls at him, winding her hand back to smack him on the shoulder.
“what?” he cries incredulously, throwing his head back in shock. “where’d you get that? i didn’t even say anything about the makeup!”
“it’s just such a coincidence that everyone’s saying i look sick without makeup on.”
“it’s really not that. you just don’t look like you’re coping well with the heat.”
“oh, cause god forbid a woman sweats.”
“i literally didn’t even say that.”
“you may as well have.”
“you’re crazy.”
“you guys are driving me crazy with all these questions.”
“cut it out,” oscar scolds, coming up from behind them. he steps between their bodies and separates them. “grid kids are coming. please behave.”
“he said i look sick because i didn’t have makeup on,” she mutters, pointing at logan.
“i said she doesn’t look like she’s coping well with the heat! i never said anything about the lack of makeup!” logan answers hurriedly, leaning forward to scowl at her from oscar’s side. “will you tell her to cut it out?”
“tell him to stop telling me i look sick!”
“okay,” oscar says, hands up as she stops speaking. he turns to logan. “stop aggravating her — you already know what’s pissing her off, so stop bringing it up and asking her.”
then, he turns to the girl with narrowed down eyes. “and you do look a bit sick, and trust me, it’s nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t do your makeup. you just look like you are going to pass out,” oscar sighs. “just drink some water, and i’m sure you will look slightly more alive.”
he straightens his back as more drivers pile towards them for the opening ceremony for the race. “now, cut it out and just act normal. please.”
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“are you sure you’re fit to race tonight?” sebastian asks again, eyebrows raised as she zips up her race suit. “no harm in pulling out if you’re not okay.”
“seb,” she says in a laugh, securing the velcro around her neck. “i’m okay. it’s just another day in the office.”
“your mum would personally shave my head if she finds out i let you race when you’re not well,” sebastian sighs. he places a hand on her shoulder. “seriously. please sit out if you need to.”
“i’m,” she turns to him and puts a hand on his elbow, “seriously okay. please don’t worry so much. this is what i do — i race.”
“fine,” sebastian smiles. “but promise me you’ll keep me updated how you’re doing during the race.”
“i always do,” she smiles, leaning into his body for a hug. like they always do before she gets in the car for the formation lap. “promise me you won’t pull me out without my approval.”
“i’d never dare cross you."
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well. she didn’t feel good the entire race. it was too hot the entire race, her seat was burning, and sweat flooded her face almost three-quarters of the duration.
the sensation of her hair sticking to her neck and her sweaty head is driving her to the brink of overstimulation. perhaps it’s with the added bouts of cramps that would come every few minutes.
but she doubts it’s the period making her feel sensitive. it’s not her first time racing with the conditions of her period.
she finished in p5, which is arguably very nice, but she just feels very suffocated in her race suit and the helmet that hugs her.
“is logan alright?” she manages to ask, driving her car into parc ferme. “you mentioned he retired during the race?”
“he’s alright. dehydration, i think,” sebastian answers her through the radio. “medical centre with james.”
“what about oscar? he’s okay?”
“he’s alright, from what i can see from the pit wall. he’s got p3.”
“crazy stats for a rookie,” she smiles as the car stops. “can i just sit here for a while, please?”
“do you need help getting out of the car?”
“i don’t,” she trails off, her head starting to spin now that she’s no longer in motion. instantly, her chest starts to feel heavier and her breaths become shallow. “i just… just need a minute.”
every breath she takes is proven to be worse than before. the hot air hits her in the face, the helmet and the balaclava restricting the type of air she can get.
she just wants to lay back in an ice bath, if she could. if she could just manage to get out of the car, that is.
a tap on the top of her helmet urges her to look up, doe eyes meeting a pair of dreamy green eyes. one that she doesn’t see often, but has always looked up to since she was young.
“are you okay?”
“charles,” she says breathily, her vision getting blurrier by the second. “i’m okay. i just needed a minute. it’s very hot.”
“it is,” he smiles. “do you need help getting out?”
“i’m alright,” she says softly. “it’s just a little hard to breathe.”
“it would probably help if you take off the helmet,” he suggests. “i’ll hold it for you — take it off now so you can get fresh air.”
she nods, reaching beneath her chin to unclip the helmet. slowly, she pulls it off her head, then charles takes it into his hands.
instantly, she does feel slightly better. she pulls the balaclava away from her nose, allowing her to deepen the breaths she’s taking as she attempts to regain her composure.
“doesn’t that feel much better?” charles grins. “let me help you out of the car and let’s head to weigh-in together. sound okay?”
she smiles with a nod. “okay.”
the way charles leclerc has her starstruck even after racing alongside him the entire year is something she will never understand. she climbs out of the car, charles’ arms lifted up protectively around her as she wobbles out.
then she realises that he’s holding both of their stuff. she tries reaching over to take her helmet into her hands, but he simply twists his body away from her as he shakes his hesd.
“take off the gloves. you’ll feel so good,” charles smiles at her, still walking alongside her. “and the balaclava. don’t worry about your helmet.”
“thank you,” she smiles, her cheeks flushed as she does as she’s instructed. “how was your race?”
“it was okay,” charles says simply. “you drank water during the race, yes?”
“a little. it wasn’t very refreshing when i did,” she sighs. she holds her balavlaca and gloves in one hand, smiling when charles finally hands her her helmet. “though, i think- whoa!”
her sentence is cut off immediately, her helmet falling to the ground with a loud thud as she lands on her knees against the pavement. her hands dig into the gravel as she drops her head low, slightly embarrassed that she’d tripped on absolutely nothing to the naked eye.
“hey, are you alright?” charles asks hurriedly, bending down next to her. he puts his helmet down on the ground gently, a hand wrapping around her elbow and the other around her shoulders. “what happened?”
“i don’t know,” she sighs. she straightens her back slightly, sitting on her knees. “i got dizzy for a second.”
“we better get you to someone who knows how to take care of you,” charles sighs, looking up at the crowd that’s gathered around them.
one of them, being carlos, who sat out for the race today. “i’ll bring her to the medical centre,” carlos mutters, wrapping his arms around the younger girl. “get her things to seb. i’ve got her.”
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“stupid,” was the first thing logan said to her when she stepped into the room in the medical centre.
she scowls at him, a cold pack of ice gel sitting on her forehead as carlos helps her get settled into her seat. “shut up.”
“no, you shut up.”
“both of you shut up,” carlos sighs. he bends down and reappears with two bottles of water. “both of you are like, extremely dehydrated. please drink some water.”
“you didn’t drink the water seb asked you to drink before the race?” logan scoffs. “should have known better. you’re on your period, aren’t you?”
“you’re one to talk — you literally refused to drink the water they gave you in the car,” she scoffs. “and how do you know that?”
“you only physically reject water when you’re on your period, idiot,” logan sighs, sinking in his seat and closing his eyes. “also, i live with you. of course i know when the devil comes to visit you.”
“drink,” carlos says again, handing her the opened bottle of water. “i know it’s not super cold water, but you’ve got to drink something.”
“only freezing water for me,” she frowns, pushing the bottle back into carlos’s body. “you heard logan: i’m on my period.”
“i’ve got your stupid water right here.” the door is opened, sebastian holding it open with a bottle in his hand. he flashes a grin at his driver before extending his arm to give her the bottle. “drink up, please.”
“do you know she is on her period today?” carlos snorts, pointing at the girl. “no wonder she was being weird all day.”
the look of realisation that dawns on sebastian’s face can only be described as priceless. typically, him and noah, her physical trainer, are quite up to date with her statistics.
for something this serious to be overlooked with the chaotic weekend was a big issue.
“oh,” sebastian frowns. “why didn’t you tell me? we could have looked after you better.”
she smiles, closing her eyes. she waves off his concern. “i was okay. finished in the points without makeup melting on my face.”
“okay, what do you m- you literally almost fainted after the race!” sebastian groans, scratching his head in confusion. “nothing about that screams okay!”
“her definition is okay is that she’s not dead,” logan says monotonously.
“which is a good definition, if you ask me.”
“but it’s stupid,” sebastian says.
“but it makes sense,” she sings. “i’m gonna take a nap. wake me up when they come over to give me an iv like the nurse said earlier.”
“you are so very silly for not hydrating enough,” carlos sighs, readjusting the gel pack on her forehead. he puts another one where her shoulder meets her neck, chuckling when she shakes in a shiver. “glad you’re okay.”
“me too.”
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dreamwatch · 1 month ago
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Merry Christmas, Tommy Hagan
Prompt Day 15: Ornament | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Pre-Season 3, pre-Steddie, time jump, 90s established Steddie, protective Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan is a idiot, good guy Steve,
I’ve never done a holiday prompt before, but this idea wouldn’t go away. It’s late, but hey, at least I posted it in December!
Steve’s had a shitty couple of months and Christmas can’t get here fast enough.  Tommy and Billy’s smug fucking faces are driving him mad, there’s literally no escape from these clowns. And if it’s not them then it’s Nancy and Jonathan parading around like they’re lovesick puppies, even if they do look embarrassed whenever he clocks them.
He gets to class as soon as possible, grabbing the back seat. It means fighting with Eddie Munson, but there seems to be something emanating from Steve that makes even the school freak back off. Eddie drops into the seat in-front of him instead, and for a second Steve feels bad about it; Eddie’s on his second go round, and if Steve was having to repeat senior year he’d want to hide at the back too, but right now his need it greater. 
He zones out, something that’s been happening with alarming regularity since getting hit in the head last month. When he looks up, Mrs Click is handing out slips for something.
“Please have your parents sign these and return them to me on Monday.”
Steve hears Tommy sniggering.
“Mrs Click, what should a student do if he,” Tommy inclines his head toward Eddie, “doesn’t have parents?”
There’s a ripple of laughter through the class, and Eddie’s ever bouncing knee comes to an abrupt halt. Steve gets an immense urge to punch Tommy in his fucking mouth.
Mrs Click cocks an eyebrow. “You know what I meant, Tommy.” She smiles sadly at Eddie and says quietly “Or guardian.” 
Eddie keeps his head down, eyes on his notebook. Steve feels pretty bad for the guy; even if he is a dick, he doesn’t deserve that.
Tommy puts his hand up. 
“Mrs Click, if our parents or guardians can’t sign, will you accept a collect call from a correctional facility?”
Eddie grabs his bag and storms out of the class, flipping Tommy off as he leaves. But the titters of cruel laughter linger as Tommy hams it up for Hargrove, courting favour at Eddie’s expense. It’s a snapshot of Steve’s life just a few months ago, and he doesn’t like it one bit. 
Steve’s about to climb into his car at the end of the day when he sees Tommy and Eddie going at it on the other side of the parking lot. He should stay out of it, he can’t stand either of these pricks, and he doesn’t need another concussion, but Tommy looks furious and Steve’s nosey. So he saunters over, hanging at the back of the crowd that’s gathered around them
“—fucking lie, man, I know it was you. Give it back!”
“I didn’t touch your shitty fucking car, Hagan.”
Tommy slams the side of Eddie’s van. “Give it back!”
“I don’t have it! And if you touch my fucking van again you’ll be playing basketball with one arm.”
Steve leans into the space of the girl next to him. “Hey, um, Ruby, right? What’s going on?”
Ruby looks at him like he just smeared shit all over her bike, and seriously, who the fuck is still riding a bike to high school?
“Tommy thinks Eddie stole the hood ornament off his car. Which I totally hope he did, Tommy’s a dick.” She climbs on her bike, and buckles up her helmet, shouting, “And my name isn’t Ruby, asshole!” as she rides off across the parking lot.
Eddie tells Tommy to go fuck himself, shoving past him to climb into his van before screaming out of the parking lot at a speed it shouldn’t be able to reach. Tommy seethes, red faced, as Carol tries to placate him, and then he notices Steve in the crowd.
“What are you looking at, Harrington?”
Steve gets a good look at the brand new red Chrysler E Class, now minus one hood ornament, and can’t suppress his smile.
“Just enjoying the view, Hagan.”
Suddenly, Christmas is looking much brighter.
December 1994
“Steve? Where’s the Christmas shit?”
Steve stands in the kitchen, hands on hips. Every god damn year they have the same conversation.
“Garage, box marked ‘Christmas Shit.’ Unless there was a second Christmas I didn’t know about, they’re in the same place I put them last year.”
“Har-de-fucking-har,” Eddie mutters under his breath as he heads out to the garage.
“Why don’t you just let me do it?”
“Because I can manage just fine.”
They don’t fight about much, but Eddie being babied, by Steve and Wayne, has been right up there. Steve worries, he’s never not going to, not after having his hands inside Eddie’s abdomen, but he’s getting better at stepping back and letting Eddie ask for help. Which he doesn’t do enough, but thats Eddie’s thing to work on. 
Still, he follows him out anyway, and together they start opening unlabelled boxes from years of moving around, things that were important enough to keep but not important enough to unpack. They end up spending an hour going down memory lane.
“What the hell is this?”
Steve leaves his box of random knick-knacks to get a better look at whatever it is Eddie found in the bottom of a dusty old box. 
“Holy shit,” he laughs. It’s a silver five pointed star in a pentagon and he absolutely knows what it is. “Do you remember the day Tommy Hagan accused you of stealing his hood ornament?”
It takes a moment but Steve can see the exact second Eddie catches on. 
“You did not!”
“I absolutely did.” He grins proudly at his boyfriend. “Asshole deserved it, too. What he said was fucking horrible.”
Eddie smiles at him softly, before wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck. “Oh my god, even back then you were my hero.”
“Damn straight I was,” Steve says, leaning in for a kiss, only breaking away when Eddie tugs on his hand. “What?”
“Let’s go for a drive.” Eddie waves the ornament between them. “We’ve got one more gift to drop off.”
“Oh you’re evil.”
“You know it, baby.”
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