thinking about Eddie, who because of the upsidedown was in a coma for effectively the rest of '86. When he woke up he had to re-learn a lot of shit, since even after he could open his eyes and sit up, moving was still hard.
Steve and Robin go with him to all of his PT appointments as he works on moving and standing up, but not walking yet. The therapist overhears him complaining to Steve about how he misses writing, since his hands are too shaky for the words to be legible.
She tells him that if he wants to write better he should practice more, and maybe pick something else up that requires small, repetitive movements, like sewing or crocheting.
Eddie is about to open his mouth to say that sewing might be a good idea, because he can work on putting his old patches onto the new vest that the kids bought him as a "we're glad you're not dead present", when Robin comes back from the bathroom and pipes up that she has some crocheting stuff from when she and Steve tried to learn together a few years back, and that's the end of that conversation.
crocheting is his least favorite part of the night, even if Robin and Steve are patient and let him pick the movie in the background and don't get frustrated when he drops the hook between the couch cushions for the thirtieth time in an hour.
Eventually he gets the hang of it, but--out of spite--refuses to make anything other than a very long line with his yarn, telling Steve and Robin he's going to strangle them with it when he's done, because crocheting "is literally the least metal thing in the world."
He stops threatening to strangle Robin after she makes him a little bat.
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we need to have the conversation of how charles fans treat his teammates without falling into the accusatory zone that we want to harm charles by having this conversation.
i mean charles no harm, but it is something that is getting extremely out of hand and it needs to be talked about. some charles fans have gotten too freely with being cruel to others drivers.
people used to call sebastian vettel a CORPSE. yes, scuderia ferrari screwed him. yes, everyone loves sebastian vettel again NOW (because he is far away from it and free from this hell) but back in 19/20? charles fans, mainly on twitter, made his life miserable. he couldn’t win. he couldn’t make anyone happy. if he won, he was taking something from charles that belonged to charles rightfully. it he lost, he was old and bad and should retire already and this sport wasn’t for him. he wasn’t a team player. he didn’t care about ferrari. he wanted to screw charles over.
if you just got here, if carlos is your first experience of how charles’ teammates are treated, let me tell you. everything that is being said about carlos has already been said about sebastian. and it is crazy for some people to understand that because everyone loves sebastian again, so you can’t even imagine what he went throught.
and i’m sorry for generalizing all of charles fans, im a charles fan, but it is something we need to stop and look at and talk about. how long will we let it go. how long until it starts to happen to lewis hamilton, of all people. how long until they dismiss his victories and say he is old and should give up of this sport so charles can win.
and you know one of the worst part? charles loves to race. every time he had to fight for it, he loved it. when he and carlos race in that track, he comes out with a big smile and talking about how he loves to race carlos. how this is real racing. he loves to fight for it. to prove himself. to have to sweat for it.
all while his fans try to make everyone just bow down their heads and give him things in a plate, already chewed and easy to get. as if he would like that. as if he can’t prove himself worth otherwise. as if he isn’t good enough to fight for it.
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DREAM TEAM
Brain Damage Dude(s) x Reader | Lemon | 18+ | Semi-cuckolding? | double teaming | spit roast | Humiliation | Its gonna get Weird okay? Its Brain Damage! | Ignore if you saw the first one, accidentally posted when I fell asleep lol.
No beta reader u know the drill.
You gotta be fucking kidding...
Dude squints at the sight in front of him. His hands slide under his sunglasses and scrub at his eyes, making sure he's not just seeing things. He opens them and... nope! Still fucking there.
"Ungh! D-Dude!"
It's You! You're laying there on the plush pink bed that just keeps fucking appearing. Bent over with your ass in the air and your head pressed deep into the duvet. Your face twisted into pleasure; eyes rolling and drool leaving a small stain on the bedding below. Dude's eyes rake over the sight, taking it in and letting his body flutter in reaction, but he's not exactly focused much on you at the moment. No.
He's mostly looking at Him.
The bastard who keeps showing up and taunting him at every turn in this stupid dream: The Other Dude.
He's there, behind you, taking you for himself. Fingers digging deep into your hips as he pounds into you. The weathered hospital gown bunched up over his hips, covering anything visual happening underneath but Dude doesn't need to see to know what's happening. The Bastard's not even watching you enjoy the treatment he gives you. He's staring at Dude.
"Oh. Hey there, Dude." Other Dude greets him, sounding unaffected by what he's doing to you and voice laced full with humor. The usual dumb grin plastered on his (handsome) face.
Dude wants to roll his eyes at his voice but that means tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him. You let out a whine and he feels something stir again.
"About time you showed. I was getting worried you'd miss this!" Other Dude grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up to give Dude a better look at your face. Chuckling when you let out a yelp that turns into a moan.
Dude's eyes widen and his mouth drops open; his sunglasses sliding down his nose. He quickly has a thought that this might be venturing onto some fucked up kick he doesn't want to think about right now. The thought of someone else taking you, even if that someone else happens to be a subconscious dick bag version of himself, shouldn't be turning him on this much. He quickly dismisses the thought and grimaces.
"So, what's all this about? Trying extra hard now to be me..?" Dude mentally groans at his lame attempt to rib Other Dude. He's a bit to preoccupied staring at you now, watching you whine and thrash and arch and beg and-
Dude swallows, trying to wet his dry mouth. He's definitely hard now, the gown rising a bit in the area.
Other Dude laughs, breath huffing out as he keeps thrusting. "Not at all. Just showing them who The. Real. Dude. Is." He punctuates each word with a thrust, hard and quick. Making your eyes roll; you face plant back into the bedding when he slips his hand out from your hair. Your screams muffled by the bedding and mattress.
Wet sounds of skin and fluid slapping fills the air and Dude's head goes light. It remind him of every filthy porno he's ever seen all at one and his fingers twitch, wanting to touch you for himself. Other Dude chuckles smugly again. "Quite a looker you've got, Dear Dude. Shame they like me more."
Dude frowns now. Getting angry and annoyed at the implication. You turn your head, your eyes meeting his and you whine. A hand slides across the duvet and you reach for him. "Dude! P-Please..?" Butterflies swarm in his stomach and he blushes. Even when you're getting fucked in front of him, you still want him. He quickly, stomps them out. Nope! No Lovey Dovey shit right now. He needs to prove something to a certain Bastard.
"Heh. Right.. That's why even with your cock in them they're still begging for the Real Deal. Ain't that right, sweetheart?" He glances down at you and your pretty, flushed face. You nod, biting a lip to hold back a moan.
Behind you, a frustrated growl comes and a gloved hand connects with your ass, hard. You let out a yelp and Dude's eyes widen, taking a few steps towards you.
"Wanna prove something, Dude?" Other asks, fingers gripping your flesh so hard they leave small crescent marks indented. "Then try it. I'll still have them screaming for me while they choke on your cock. I promise."
Dude, never one to back down from a challenge, (especially one this hot and depraved) sniggers and nods. "You're on, Asshole."
He steps forward. Taking his position in front of you. Other leans back, slowing his movements, so you can rise on shaky arms to greet Dude. You look destroyed, face running with tears and drool and sweat. Dude smirks, sliding a hand to your cheek.
"Hey there, Beautiful. Ready to put on a show for this prick? Show 'em who you really belong to?"
You swallow; lips parting and breath panting. Excited to finally have him, you nod quickly. He smirks, reaching behind the gown; undoing the ties. Letting it fall into a fabric puddle at his bunny slippered feet. Other Dude laughs loudly, causing Dude to raise an eyebrow.
"That's it? Yeesh! No wonder they've been cock drunk! That's all they have to work with!" Other falls forward, giggling and using you for support. You yelp at the weight and your arms nearly give. "Go on! Tell him! Tell him how small it is!" Other slaps at you, egging you on to degrade and humiliate. You blink at the order and you hesitate. Turning your head to look at him in question. You don't get far as he snatches out, grabbing your hair like reigns and pulling you back, forcing you to stare straight ahead at Dude. "Tell him."
You lock with Dude's eyes and swallow again. Voice coming out meek and shaky. "I-It's small!"
Dude hates how his cock twitches at the words, precum leaking from out his tip. Other notices and laughs again, the humiliation building under Dude's skin further. Other Dude drops your head, letting you fall forward again.
"Get on with it, We all know I'm winning anyway."
Dude rolls his eyes, turning his attention back towards you. You reach up, grabbing his cock and taking it into your mouth. You barely even get adjusted before Other Dude starts fucking you again, thrusting up into you rough and hard. You gasp and moan around Dude's cock, getting pushed onto it deeper. You gag and Dude groans.
He takes your hair into his hands like a handle and holds you steady. Fucking your face. Other Dude bucks and grinds and finally, finally, finds the spot to make you roll your eyes and whine. Both Dudes whine at the noise at the same time and their movements sputter.
Dude looks down at you, his sunglasses sliding down his sweat slicked face now. He takes in your appearance again and smirks, realization crossing him. Looking up at the Other, he speaks. "They're close."
Other nods in acknowledgement and his face breaks out into a dark grin. Giggles spilling from his throat as he keeps up the pace. Watching your ass jiggle and smack against his hips.
Dude pulls his cock from your throat, stroking himself. "Let me finish on that pretty face, yeah?" His voice, low and gruff, makes you whine.
"Fuck! Dude! I-I'm close!" Your eyes screw shut and you finish hard against Others cock. His eyebrows rise, groaning something depraved at the release and he pulls out once you finish. Stroking himself off. Each Dude lets out a groan at your despertate noises and they finish in tandem. Dude painting your face; Other releasing along your lower back.
Other Dude groans and falls backwards onto the bed. His gown falling back down to cover him fully again. His arm comes up to cover his face. Your arms finally give and you slump forward into the plush comforter, face sideways to prevent Dude's spent from squishing everywhere. Dude somehow manages to stay upright, head tilted upwards with his eyes screwed shut and face flushed. You're all three huffing for air and coming down.
Dude is the first to break the silence. "I win."
Other Dude's head snaps upwards. Hand slamming down onto the space next to him, brows twisted with frustration and anger. "No. Way. You didn't feel how they were clenching down around me!"
Dude chuckles and shrugs. "And you couldn't see how they were looking at me. Practically worshipping me."
Other snarls and suddenly rises to his unsteady legs and lunges at Dude, pulling him down into the ground. They roll around and fight, throwing punches at each other, like siblings fighting over a favorite toy. Arguing all the while about who you favored more.
You sigh at the sight and wipe your face with one of the sheets, cleaning yourself up. Grumbling to yourself.
"This dream fucking sucks."
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