Ledger_m
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- Formula 1 RPF (3)
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“Baby, are you okay--” the blonde asks concerned, trying to reach out.
“What the fuck?” cuts Charles, breathless. He focuses his furious eyes on the blonde sitting on the bed.
Max frowns, frozen mid-way, confused by his reaction. “What?”
The Monegasque wipes his mouth with the back of his hands before asking, almost incredulously, "What do you mean what!" Charles shrieks, standing up on arguably shaking legs. When he speaks, he does it carefully, pronouncing each word clearly, "Do you have any idea what you just said to me, Max?"
Max would find the situation rather funny, but he is a bit mortified, and they are both overly undressed.
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Look, it is not like Charles had much choice. He was not the only one complaining about that, he knew, he lurked around the internet too much to know he was not the only one tired by the fact Max Verstappen wore that stupid Red Bull hat every day.
People were claiming for his help with the matter. They might want to obsess all over Charles’ property and it might have clocked him the wrong way some things he read about Max with his sandy, wild hair. Still. At any rate, Charles could be a bastard, but he was not cruel, if he could give a glimpse of his boyfriend to please them, he could try. It was only fair.
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“Wait,” Lando said, voice high pitched, “you guys really think Max and Charles are into each other? For real?”
“All the evidence points to that,” replied Alex, sighing, all analytical and a tad regretful, as if it was a shameful fact, unavoidable.
“And you think they might be already sleeping together?”
“No, not yet,” Daniel admitted, “they are just friends for now, and Charles is simply clingy with Max, who is a big softie with Charlie, God knows why… But… I think they want to.”
or: 5 times Max and Charles acted weirdly couple-y (+ one time they noticed)
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They don’t go their separate ways after the fight.
They end up at her place, acting like they’ve lost their damn minds — drinking too much, touching too much, pretending nothing matters while everything clearly does.
They get wrecked trying to fix their mess.Bookmarked by Ledger_m
02 Jul 2026
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“It’s not about that. It’s not about being abandoned or unsupported or whatever.”
She exhales again. This time shaky.
“It’s just… There’s a difference between need and want, Carmen.”
And that?
That shuts him the fuck up.
Because he knows where this is going.
And he doesn’t know how to survive it.
He stares at her.
Longer than he means to.
“Why would you want me?” he says finally.
His voice is quiet. But not soft."
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Cory Matthews wakes up the day after his wedding in his younger self's body, in September 1995. Armed with the knowledge of what is to come, he sets his mind on fixing mistakes and preventing tragedy.
Thankfully, he doesn't have to do it alone.
Bookmarked by Ledger_m
28 Jun 2026
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"Shawn took his keys from his handbag, opened the door, then turned to Cory. "Thank you. I really appreciate this."
Cory smiled his adorable dopey smile. "What are friends for?"
Before he could stop himself, Shawn gave Cory a chase kiss on the cheek, then jumped backwards into the house with a hurried "Goodnight," and shut the door before Cory could react.
He stayed there, with his forehead against the door, listening for Cory’s departure. It came a minute or so later, the car slowly pulling away. When there was nothing but silence, Shawn let out a long, held-in breath."
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Whatever carefully blank expression Lestat is trying on disappears like a slap. “Armand made a fledgling. Why would he do that?” Lestat asks.
“Oh, you know,” Louis says, watching the three dots of a new text pop up. “He knew Daniel was… important to me.”
He means to say it with rueful annoyance, as if to say, “so he ruined him.” But as Daniel’s text comes in—the most important question I should have asked you in that fucking interview: where do you buy coke in Dubai?—Louis’s voice trails off, his words maybe lacking some of the bite.
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Lestat misunderstands what Daniel is to Louis and tries to be a champ about it. Meanwhile Louis rediscovers his drug of choice—Lestat.
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Bookmarked by Ledger_m
07 Jun 2026
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"There’s a need that runs deeply—a compulsion maybe—to know that he can take care of Lestat. To know that if Lestat sinks into despair again, eating rats and living in squalor, that Louis can provide if not pull him out. Lestat, while unable to pull him out, did provide for Louis. Despite hating the filth, he let the raccoons and the rats run through the townhouse so Louis would have something when he remembered he was hungry.
And there’s another need that lives closer to vanity, to hope that after eighty years, Louis is still the only one who knows him—his tastes, his desires, his needs. To know that what Louis built for himself over the last century—the identity, the fortune, the purpose—that it can be shared with Lestat. That the nice things Lestat likes to surround himself with can be Louis’s things."
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He knows what Daniel is about to say before he begins.
“Yeah, hey listen. I got some fact checking to do—”
“I’ve told you, Daniel. I’ve given my story. He can give his. I declined to participate in this documentary—”
“I watched you feed on Armand in Dubai, right? I’m not making that up?”
Louis’s hands pause. That wasn’t what he was expecting at all.
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For 114 years, Louis had an aversion to drinking Lestat's blood, but not for the reason Lestat thinks. Daniel reaches out to Louis for a fact check.
Bookmarked by Ledger_m
07 Jun 2026
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"I send my love to you, Louis thinks, remembering, and you send it back ‘round to me.
When Lestat lays spent, draped over him, his ribs moving quickly against his own, Louis finally pulls off Lestat’s vein and kisses the skin until it closes.
Lestat stays shuddering in his arms, his face buried in Louis’s neck.
Louis is warm with the blood. Lestat’s heart is inside of him.
And for the first time in his one hundred and fourteen years, Louis feels satiated. The hunger sleeps."
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The year is 2013. 20 million previously uninsured adults have been covered by Obamacare. Netflix is experimenting with their first original show. Thrift Shop is the only song on the radio. It’s Jack Abbot’s 37th birthday, and he’s realizing his wingman might be the best option in the bar…
Series
- Part 1 of Save a Motorcycle, Ride an ER Cowboy
Bookmarked by Ledger_m
05 Apr 2026
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"Jack is first to pick up his shot, which he does without looking away from Robby and the churning of his thoughts. His own are starting to gather into an undeniable conclusion. Jack’s been staring right at the sort of enticing personality he wants from a lover this whole time, hasn’t he? He’s been enjoying this look underneath Robby’s hood. He wants to get his hands dirty on him. Jack throws his shot back and thunks the glass down, determined to ask.
“So… Are you still young at heart?”
Robby pauses and drinks his shot just as emphatically. “...You know how it is, Jack.” He slides around his glass on the bar in a restless circle. “We were born into a post-Bowie world. I don’t think they make Kinsey zeroes anymore.”
No bones about it, they’re eyeing each other up, now. Jack can feel the heat of those dark eyes, roving all over him.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks."