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#did he not learn from last season
canadiancryptid · 1 month
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Finally got around to finishing Netflix's ATLA adaptation. I have a LOT of notes, but I think the biggest one is this:
At the end of Season 1 of the original, Aang had at least started learning waterbending alongside Katara, and a little bit of Firebending with Jeong Jeong. Outside of the Avatar State, he had at least started 3/4 elements.
By the same point in NATLA, he's only at 1/4. I don't think this kid has bent a single drop of water. So far he is just a *really* good airbender who can do some spirit world stuff. That should give you a good idea as to why I have a few issues with it.
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buckttommy · 2 years
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Soooo. Which one of Eddie's parents is dying/will die, huh?
#Go with me here:#this episode was very Oldest Sibling Eddie coded. Again I am a youngest sibling Eddie truther#but this is the first time we have seen Eddie interact with May or ANYONE younger than him in the capacity which he did tonight#Usually when Eddie interacts with someone younger than him they are MUCH younger than him (i.e. Christopher/Charlie) or only#a few years younger (i.e. Buck/Ravi) so that the age difference doesn't matter.#May is an adult in her own right but she's also significantly younger than him and he immediately assumed a Big Brotherly role#like it was natural to him.#Keeping that in mind and also looking at the call with the mother who died#Maybe I'm reading too much into it but Oldest Daughter/Eddie seemed to have stories that follow the same/similar trajectory#both with a parent who is there but not#who goes through life thinking Everything Is OK not even noticing that their child has pulled away from them#I said it before but an episode that so heavily centers around choices (sometimes bad ones) having parents making choices for#their children that they think are for the best but only end up hurting them#and placing enormous burden of responsibility on their eldest (even unintentionally)....#Maybe Eddie goes home to face his demons but while he's there he is going to learn that either Helena or Ramon is sick and/or dying#and he's going to be the first one of his siblings to catch it. And whatever death comes next is... probably not going to fix everything#between them. But it's going to clear the air enough that Eddie can heal in his own way#just like the Oldest Daughter whose mom technically died before they got any real emotional closure but whose last words were enough#to buoy and anchor her so that she could be there for her younger siblings#End of Season 5 and beginning of Season 6 is not going to fuck around#Let's talk about healing when the parent who fucked you up is too dead to even fully understand the grasp of what they've done#to you and how you rebuild when - for all you said - there is still so much you did not get the chance to say to them#Holy shit. If this is how they take this story.... bye <3#tv: 911#911: 05 x 15#911 spoilers#jack.txt
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betelgeusing · 10 months
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also I can't talk about it too much or I'll get emo but I'm so fucking proud of Richie
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ahsokkairti · 1 year
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WHERE is DIN
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well, I am officially on to season 2 of "Miss Scarlet and the Duke", and based on the first episode at least, the writing does seem to have improved a bit?? this may be a case of First Episode of the Season Syndrome (added nuance and subtlety to kick the season off but immediately dropping back down to mediocre levels until the finale), but I'm hopeful that many of my complaints about the first season won't be as present going forwards!
but also, oww. the end... that was... yikes. my heart hurts now. 😧
#the whole final scene of this episode was fantastically done tho#the acting direction pacing lighting... all of it was //great// and really compounded the emotions of that last bit#and the metaphor of the door between them... both walking towards it and wanting to step through to the other but neither quite able to#and then eventually both backing off and choosing to walk away in the end#it's a great visual symbol for their relationship at this point#and how what they ultimately need is to figure out a way to meet in the middle#but it's going to take both of them committing at the same time and to the same purpose for that to happen#and that is going to be /hard/ for these two to do#despite how much they want to be part of each other's lives#but also!! kudos to Eliza for being so open and honest about her feelings and boundaries!! that was really cool!!#and then leaving the ball in his court and not getting angry and starting an argument when he chose the course he did#(yet. I'm sure there's going to be lots of emotional fall-out to this over the course of the rest of the season.)#both of these people really need to learn some lessons about respect and loyalty and sacrifice for the people you care about tho lol#which I do think is the whole point.#William would see it as demeaning and belittling for her to override his authority or refuse to take orders from him.#Eliza Will Not be caged or dictated to and she wants to be allowed to make her own decisions and follow her own intuitions at whatever cost#she needs to be more careful to consider how her decisions will make him feel (if not how they will make him look)#and he needs to attempt to respect her and understand that her pushing back against him isn't to be taken as an attack#but that he should lean into it and allow her the space to make her own decisions. it's complicated because of the social situation#but yeah. respect is ultimately the thing here. and they both need to learn some more of it lol.#miss scarlet and the duke#gurt says stuff#oh also both of these people are FANTASTIC face actors and it's incredibly fun to watch until it's not anymore#and it's just making my heart hurt because of how much yearning they're both exuding but are both entirely unable to express openly#hhghsghhsghgshgsd
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hyperionshipping · 1 year
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Im trying to think really hard abt s/is. My Gotham s/i is a fucking nuisance to G.P.D. bc he doesn't let himself get caught but he leaves evidence.
Meanwhile Hearts is NOT subtle when kicking around as a citizen. He hangs around places that like really SHOULD out him but people are kinda dumb and Hearts in his villian outfit and Hearts in his civilian clothes is two VERYYY different vibes
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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months
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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
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If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
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As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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Secretly Mine
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Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge
Category: Fluff
Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader
Content warnings: None
Word count: 1.5k
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Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.
One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.
New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.
Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.
Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.
So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.
Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.
And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.
You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.
The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.
Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?
His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.
It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”
You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”
“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”
He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”
You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”
“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.
You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”
His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”
As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?
And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.
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“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 
His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”
“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”
“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”
Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.
Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”
~
Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic. 
Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.
But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.
He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving — 
“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door. 
“Come in,” he calls back.
Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”
Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”
Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”
Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”
“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself. 
~
Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 
His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.
Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.
You.
You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.
Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.
He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.
Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.
Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.
As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.
You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.
Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?
He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.
You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you. 
Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you. 
But nothing. The seconds tick by.
You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”
You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”
He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.
“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.
Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”
Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”
College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”
“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”
“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”
“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”
“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”
“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.
Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”
“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”
A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”
There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”
Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.
“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”
You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win. 
“Sure. That would be really fun.”
He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —
“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.
“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”
“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”
You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer. 
Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”
“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”
He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is? 
From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it. 
Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”
Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.
Okay, okay. 
Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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softtdaisy · 4 months
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🌲 a found family l max verstappen
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summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.
words count. 2,596
a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶
a very angsty Christmas l masterlist
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You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 
And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.
He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 
Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.
“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 
He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 
“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 
“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 
This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 
From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.
Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?
“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 
“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.
Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 
That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.
And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.
“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.
For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.
But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.
“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 
“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.
“Yep. You’re happy.” 
Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”
It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.
“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 
Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.
If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 
“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.
Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 
At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.
Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.
“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.
“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”
Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.
“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 
“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 
“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.
Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”
He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.
Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.
But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.
“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 
Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 
“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 
Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.
Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 
The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 
And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.
When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.
“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.
That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.
So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.
You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.
“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 
You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 
But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.
All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 
It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 
“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.
You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 
But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”
You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 
And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.
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rockpaperimpala · 2 months
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So about Netflix's the Last Airbender....
I am literally so confused you guys. You made me think I would HATE this show. And I LOVED it. Me. Known perfectionist and hater.
Katara was lovely. Yes, she started as a more soft spoken character than her cartoon version, but she was still passionate and hopeful throughout, just visibly unsure of herself. I think people were thrown off by this actress' natural way of expressing herself, which is Different from animated katara for sure, but not bad. Then she spends the whole season growing in Confidence and Fire. I Adored her fight with Paku, it really did feel like a payout of the whole season's development, and the bending kicked ass!
The Bending Kicked ass!!! The martial arts was fun and fast and creative and exciting! It looked SO good. That alone would be enough reason for me to watch and enjoy any show.
Zuko's actor was fantastic. He really captured the rage and confusion of this 16 year old banished prince. And there were so many Added moments between him and Iroh wich to me enriched their relationship. Like YES! This is why I'm watching, to see more of them, to see things done a little differently.
Iroh facing the consequences of his actions at Ba Sing Se!! That's what I'm here for!
Zuko's relationship with the men on his ship! That's what I'm here for!
The Extra layers we get to Ozai manipulating his children!
Also no one is talking about Admiral Zhao, who I had SO much fun with. I feel like they slightly fleshed out his character in a really dramatic way, really developing the hubris and frankly insane grasping ambition of someone who would kill the moon. I completely enjoyed this wilder, less controlled version of him, who comes up through the season from basically nothing and no one!
I am OBSESSED with King BUMI and his anger and disillusionment with the world! Like this was SO real. Living a hundred years of futile war would do that!!!! It is one of my favorite changes to the whole series. This new layer of emotion and character depth is what I'm here for!
Sokka was SO funny. He literally had me laughing out loud so often. That actor GETs Sokka, and GETS the way his humor is delivered. And is also able to tap into the more vulnerable side of him. People said he was "obsessed" with leadership. WHAT? That is a young person trying desperately to do his best and to try and find his place in the world, to figure what he has to offer. I loved his pride at hearing the Mechanist say that he would make a good engineer, and the sweetness of the moment that Yue's father says that he can be a hero without being a warrior. Sokka does so much growth in this series, in understanding himself and life.
And his chemistry with Suki was adorable!! I even like him and Yue (who was a totally unexpected sweetheart, despite her terrible wig)!! Like he has that same ability that Sokka has in the original to Connect with people.
Aang was great! He WAS fun loving and sweet and funny. I don't know what you guys wanted. Cartoons are always bigger and more exaggerated than live action. People's eyes swell up an, birds fly around their heads, and there are funny sound effects. That larger than life quality is the strength of animation! You have to look for different strength in live action. Like the SUBTLETIES of the acting choices. This little actor brought so much kindness, innocence, and strength to Aang.
And I FELT his frustration at being asked to do this at 12, his fresh hope anytime it looked like someone more experienced would be able to help him and no one did, and that's why he didn't learn waterbending this season, because he kept waiting for an freaking ADULT to show him the way, to help him carry this immense burden, but every adult he meets asks him for help instead, asks him to carry it himself, and then the finale hits and he realizes that there won't be any adults helping, he does have figure this out himself, and he makes the hard choice, takes on responsibility more than his years and offers himself to the ocean spirit, and he might have been lost entirely if not for Katara!
And that counter running theme to the show pays off: that he doesn't have to do it alone. He may not have more experienced guidance, because the adults have let him down again and again, but his friends will be with him, and they will figure it out together!
This is there throughout the series! Katara tells him this about learning waterbending, when he says he still wants to wait. Bumi tells him this in the palace at Omashu, and Aang sees the faith he has in his friends repaid!
I like these changes! And the show still found time for silly fun adventures and character building moments.
The show was never going to be the animated original. That is already a Masterpiece, and it frankly did NOT need to be adapted at all. I did not WANT a live action adaptation. I was adamantly convinced I would hate it. But the changes that they netflix show gave are what I Iike most about it. If I want to see Zuko say "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun," I will go watch the animated original, because that version is perfect. And now, if i want to see Zuko say "Lu ten would have been proud to have you as a father," and see iroh pull him into a tight hug, I can watch this live action version, which is very good too. I'm going to disagree with most of the people on here and say that the Netflix's Avatar: The Last Airbender, DOES capture the heart of what we liked about the original show. It's spirit, fun, excitement, and characters. And the changes made are the reason we should be watching.
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fangirl-dot-com · 25 days
Text
Epilogue - Sign of the Times
Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes… 
Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed. 
“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” 
You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…
Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier. 
Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms. 
Oh yeah. 
You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost. 
“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” 
Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms. 
“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!” 
Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold. 
Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship.  However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.
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redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!
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y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱
y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER
box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC
y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming
landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy
y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺
lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY
If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“CHARLIE!”
The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap. 
The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd. 
When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips. 
“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.” 
A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there. 
For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year. 
But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years. 
You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way. 
You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why. 
You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly. 
“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times,  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.
“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.” 
Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too. 
“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.” 
“I’ll miss you Lew.” 
“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.” 
Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red. 
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y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍
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y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??
rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!
maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know
charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌
landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨
olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win
formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!
Just stop your crying it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here  Just stop your crying, have the time of your life  Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here
The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it. 
“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out. 
The older man rolled his eyes. 
“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?” 
A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking. 
Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day. 
Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand. 
Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing. 
The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm. 
After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms. 
You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands. 
Arthur just cried a bit more. 
The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family. 
Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027. 
Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on. 
The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own. 
The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself. 
Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words. 
“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.” 
We can meet again somewhere  Somewhere far away from here…
Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle. 
“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight. 
You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.” 
During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid. 
Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee. 
You couldn’t wait to gain a sister. 
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arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍
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y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship
maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺
y/n.89 forever is too short
arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity
landonorris gag.
charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz
y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys
landonorris yes ma'am
y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever
We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships. 
The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return. 
Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage. 
“MAXIE!” 
The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics. 
Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur. 
With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.  
Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had. 
The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up. 
“Hey kid.”
You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug. 
“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.” 
Max only looked down at you with a smile. 
“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.” 
“Sure Maximillian.” 
We never learn, we been here before 
Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it. 
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?” 
He put a hand on your shoulder. 
“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.” 
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y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙
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leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE
rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???
charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚
maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it
charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier
y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time
charles_leclerc HA
maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand
y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?
Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”  
Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes. 
“Help us.”
Your husband only looked at them with pity. 
“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.” 
Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer. 
Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex. 
“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.” 
Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father. 
“But Max doesn’t!” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly. 
Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing. 
“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal. 
Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.
“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing. 
“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.” 
Max tried to give you a smile. 
“Surprise?”
You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed. 
“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.” 
Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy. 
She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them. 
“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out. 
And Lottie was right. 
Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.
Only four more to go. 
Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here 
You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night. 
You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport. 
The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso). 
Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. 
You looked up at your husband. 
“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?” 
Arthur looked at you with a smile. 
“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.” 
You peered up at him. 
“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.” 
Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours. 
Arthur sighed. 
“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.” 
“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.” 
He knew you were teasing. 
“It is all jokes ma chéri.” 
Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.  
“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.” 
Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles. 
The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?” 
The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.” 
Mark clapped him on the shoulder. 
“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.” 
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y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know
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leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀
y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭
landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?
oscarpiastri and me?
logansargeant and me?????
olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝
y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you
iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends
We never learn, we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets We never learn we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money. 
But you had done it. Finally. 
Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time. 
You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly. 
You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted. 
We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much
At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year. 
You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.
(Yes, even Esteban). 
The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them. 
It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first. 
On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep. 
Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love. 
You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.” 
A quick pinch was given to your leg. 
“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part. 
Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly. 
“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.” 
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redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️
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y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!
formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ
y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull
maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original
charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull
sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here
redbullracing we love you all equally
y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho
author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden
Will we ever learn?  We’ve been here before It’s just what we know
At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun. 
Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone. 
Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine. 
After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042. 
In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to. 
Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now. 
Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours. 
Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them. 
Because in the end, you didn’t need them. 
A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset. 
“Why are you crying chéri?” 
Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away. 
You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.
“I’m happy, so happy.” 
Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…
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Just a silly question but how will cotton react when he saw or knew that y/n REALLY love to eat rabbits and have a weird obsession for eating them? Like. Is he gonna be terrified or he gonna be like "stay away from my child but I still love U tho"
-(I wanna be the 🦖 anon please and yes the ask earlier where I quack was me too )
Cotton x carnivore!darling
Tw: minor body horror, cannibalism, reader can be another hybrid or human, cotton being cotton, blood mentioned. Not proofread 🌺
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🔪he knew there was something wrong with you. From the moment you took him in and nursed him to health. To the way your hands glided over his abdomen and raked down his thighs. Your eyes staring hungrily at his throat. He saw the red flags, but he ignored them, because you made him feel something he thought he hated. Fear. Adrenaline.
🔪when you reluctantly let him go, he begged to stay. He knew he wasn't much of a meal but won't you give him a chance? He'll gladly let you tear open his chest and claw out his intestines. How would you eat him? Raw and fresh? Or cooked and seasoned? The thought excited him beyond belief!
🔪when you had your first litter of children, he quite literally had to pry them from your hold. He loved you but he couldn't risk you eating your newborns. So for the first few months he raised them himself from a distance. The only way he'd let you near them would be if he was close by and had a sedative in hand.
🔪 while quickly becoming a prisoner in your own home, Your shorter than average husband was constantly breathing down your neck, his gaze never leaving your form. And with the help of your offspring, life got even more suffocating. You loved your children, you really did. But you could never really get rid of that little itch in your mouth begging to sink into some meat. When was the last time you had it? You were starving.. you didn't want to eat vegetables anymore..
🔪one night you went missing. How the hell did you break out of the chains he found. He felt his heart stop and scrambled out of your bed. Ears moving around to try and catch any noise. Quickly rushing to the children's rooms, he relaxed in seeing them all safe and sound. Until he heard something from outside. Grabbing the dart gun from his bedside, he stepped out slowly. Following the smell of blood and cracking of what sounded like bones. Going Deeper into the forest...
🔪and there you were. Crouched over the bodies of what seemed like a deer hybrid family. You didn't seem to notice him, happily chewing and tearing at the flesh underneath you. Blood spewing out onto the dirt floor, he swore he could see a little twitch from the mother's hand. Their bones bent in unnatural places and the gashes on their bodies lethal. He slowly approached, standing over you
"there you are.. where have you gone..? you had me so worried honey..."
🔪 you simply stared up at him, licking your bloody lips and dropping the arm you were chewing on. He could feel himself get hard at the sight. Weirdo. Ignoring the corpses next to him, he set down his gun and kissed you softly. Wiping the rest of the blood off you with his shirt. He learns quickly that once you've eaten meat, you don't need to eat it for a good while. Expect him to hunt down his fellow hybrids for you in the near future. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he kept neglecting your needs?
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killuintense · 8 months
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could you write a one shot of Leon and fem!reader talking about having a baby together? Leon assuming he would have to go easy on the alcohol and y/n happy to give Leon baby plsss ily<3 vvvv
❝ baby fever ❞
leon kennedy x fem!reader.
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summary: the idea of confessing to you that incessant idea in his head to tell you that you would be an excellent mother, was consuming Leon.
content: 1.3k words, fluff, mention of pregnancy, a very cheesy and sweet Leon, mention of alcoholism, comfort.
note: i loved placing your request, thank you very much for making it and i hope you enjoy it, ilyyyy ♡ ♡
The night seemed to be calm and typical for that season of the year. The breeze was gently breezing and ruffling Leon's ashen hair as he quietly opened the door of the house without trying to make too much noise. It wasn't too late, but he didn't want to be loud, especially after spending all day at the main D.S.O. base taking care of paperwork and reports after his last assignment at Alcatraz prison. He laughed when he remembered your concern the moment you learned that he had been infected by a virus, blaming you for not accompanying him as you usually did being an important agent of the association.
"Ahmmm..." he heard a soft sound emitted by you from the kitchen and soon remembered that little detail. Your best friend had asked you as a last minute favor to babysit her baby for that whole day as family problems had arisen. She remembered the image of the morning. You, holding in your arms that little girl with golden hair and chubby cheeks, you and your look of love and tenderness. Leon would bet that he had never seen you make that face before, and a strange feeling welled up in his chest. Almost as if from his heart exploding in a feverish sense of need it was present "So goood, what a good girl, you like applesauce, don't you?" a complicit chuckle let itself be heard and Leon hesitated to enter the kitchen where your voice came from. He hesitated because he knew that if he came in and saw you behaving in such a natural and loving way with the little baby, many incoherent words and impulsive ideas would come out of his mouth.
However, the day had been long enough without wanting to see his beloved so he didn't hesitate to leave his blue leather jacket hanging in the entrance and enter the kitchen, watching how you held little Rosemary in your arms and gave her that preparation with enthusiasm "My love..." it almost came out in a sigh, and you admired it with surprise.
"Leon!" the excitement could be heard in your voice and dazzled in your eyes "I didn't hear the door, I'm sorry I didn't welcome you, Honey" you smiled and took the baby's little hand to improvise a greeting to Leon. He could feel his face heat up and if it wasn't for the baby on top of you, he would have run to lock you in his arms, sinking into a kiss that only he was capable of giving you. Before he could speak any more, though, the doorbell rang and soon you both realized that it was probably your friend finally showing up as promised.
He could see the disappointment in your eyes, knowing that if it was for you you could have her for another day playing with your cheeks as she laughed with amusement; and the blond wondered if he couldn't fall more in love, wondered if his love for you would make him explode. He needed to make you more his than you already were. He needed to sink into you in a different way and mark you, leave something of him forever in you.
"I really wish she would have stayed longer" you mentioned once the baby joyfully welcomed her mother's arms "You know you can trust me if you need help again" you offered and exchanged words of encouragement with your friend, cheering her up and congratulating her on having such a beautiful baby. Leon also waved, stood behind you with that soft smile he was only naturally able to do when he had you around. But he wasn't being enough. He wanted to close the damn door and tell you about that crazy idea that had been going around in his head since that morning he saw you with a little baby in your arms, about that feeling that invaded him when he took you by the waist hugging you and leaving a kiss on your lips and a soft caress on the little one's cheek before saying goodbye and leaving for work. He felt for the first time the feeling of a.... family. A family he only wanted to have if it was with you.
"Ah..." once you closed the door you stretched and yawned, hanging on the back of Leon's neck to hug him tightly "I really miss you today, big boy" you teased at the nickname, depositing a kiss on his jawline as scarred as it was rough, feeling the stubble of a couple of days unshaven.
"I missed you more..." he seemed as self-absorbed as ever, moving his hands from your waist to your belly, caressing it gently. It caught your attention that he would do that, of course, but you assumed he was affectionate because of the distance and remoteness that had consumed you during that week due to work. But you didn't think that Leon's mind was wandering in a need so primitive that it even saddened him "You really would make an excellent mother" he suddenly blurted out, staring at you as he gently bumped his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, sorry for pushing you into that situation.
"Is that a proposal, Kennedy?" you smiled, you loved it when he got shy like that. That remembered you when he was younger and still didn't know how to handle himself, how he wasn't able to carry all the traumas he had on his shoulders. "Leon... do you really think I would make a good mother?" you asked unsurely, a pressure in your chest made as it dawned on you that Leon wanted you to be the mother of his children. That he wanted to take that step with you.
"Obviously! Fuck, sometimes I find myself thinking about that too much" he smiled, kissing your cheek repeatedly causing you to giggle in amusement "Can you imagine? A little girl running all over the house, accompanying us everywhere, laughing and being happy..." his voice trailed off softly and he smiled "Being happy like we would have liked to be at some point. Not thinking about abandonment and the sadness of not having a home to return to" he squeezed your waist, as if trying to be aware that you were there, that you hadn't faded away. "And I know that last year was terrible... but I need to start again, I need to forget that I can drown my sorrows in alcohol" he murmured, ashamed of himself.
"Leon..." you took his cheek and smiled, kissing his lips softly "You'll make an excellent father, you know that, don't you?" a sparkle came into Leon's eyes, almost as if the hope of a future was opening in front of him, holding your hand, happy to move forward "Although to be honest, I'd like a mini Leon" you laughed, brushing your nose against his, in a sweet Eskimo kiss.
"If it's with you I wouldn't mind having a litter of mini Leons" he joked, though in a corner of his mind his almost animal instinct thought that if you let him he was capable of filling you completely until you couldn't take any more. 'We're not rabbits... for now' he thought, and chuckled to himself before he felt you pull away to go to the kitchen.
"Especially since I'm sure if she grows up to be a girl, she's going to be a spoiled daddy's princess" you said loud enough for him to hear and started cleaning up the dishes you had messed up during the day. Soon a giggle came closer and Leon's soft footsteps came into view, catching you around the waist as he let out a mocking sigh in your ear, sending a burst of electricity down your spine.
"Don't be like that, if you love that I spoil you, mh" he kissed your neck and you couldn't help but feel your body temper. You wouldn't give up that feeling of need for anything, that feeling of Leon wanting and having the instinct to take you in a way beyond what himself could have thought. You couldn't wait for the day to come, to one day have the privilege of having a seed of him growing inside you.
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
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Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
___
If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
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