80's Fever (Part II) // CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Vestappen!Twin
Summary: After the best night of his life, Charles feels that there's an awkwardness that shouldn't be there. What can he do to fix that?
Warnings: Physically violent parenting, childhood trauma.
Author’s Note: A part II for this story was requested, so here it is! I hope you guys like it. Rate: PG.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Charles saw her from across the paddock, her hair flowing as she moved around, taking pictures with some fans and joking around with Max. He wanted to walk up to her, ask her about her day, see how she's been, but whenever he did that she just answered him awkwardly and made up an excuse to walk away. Max would always look at him with pity, running after his twin to check on her. Charles couldn't believe it, but he actually preferred her insulting him to this attitude. They had an incredible night together two months ago and now she couldn't even look him in the eye. He was head over heels for her, he knew that he loved her and he felt how much she loved him when they were together. Still, she walked away. He was conflicted, a part of him wanted to give up, to give her space and try to move on, but another part of himself knew that giving up and letting her go would be the biggest regret of his life.
It was late at night, the paddock was empty and there were very few lights on. The cold breeze of Australia at night made him shiver. It was summer, but still the temperature went down a few degrees at night. Between the silence, he heard a faint melody, something barely noticeable that slipped under the back door of the Red Bull garage. He assumed it was probably her, going over her mistake over and over again. It was a human error, she never made those, but she was human after all, and it landed her P4. It wasn't a bad qualifying, but it was not front row, like the last 4 races. He was well aware that the reason she put so much pressure on herself was because of her father. It was no secret that Jos Verstappen would step over every limit, even legal, to punish his children when they didn't perform perfectly. He saw the bruises more than once, red cheeks, fingerprints on arms or wrists, tear-stained faces after Jos pulled them aside in the middle of a karting tournament and away from the public eye. No one ever did anything but everyone knew, that was probably why the twins were always so angry and violent to everyone, if everyone let them down, why should they offer anything but hate?
"Misschien leer je daardoor autorijden, waardeloze tijdverspilling" (Maybe that'll teach you how to drive a car, fucking worthless waste of time). Charles heard the scream, he didn't speak Dutch, but he recognized Jos voice, so whatever he said couldn't have been good. He tried the back door but it was locked, he started running to the other side to enter through the front door, but then he heard Jos open the back door and walk out, fuming. Charles walked back and went through it without thinking twice. He found her sitting on the floor, curled up against a wall, her hair covering her face. She was sobbing so hard her body started to shake. He ran to her, pulling her into his arms. She could feel it was him when his scent hit her nose, the same scent that she remembered every night, when she closed her eyes and went back to that moment when life was worth living.
"It's okay, mon amour, I've got you". He said as he pressed her against his chest. She had missed that feeling so much, the feeling of his heartbeat against her face. She relaxed into him. They heard the back door open again and they both looked up, ready for another punishment, but it wasn't Jos who walked in.
"zusje, alles goed met je?" (Sis, are you okay?). Max ran to his sister, pushing Charles away and instantly checking on his sister's face, the bruise on her lip already gaining color. "Thank you, Charles. I'll take it from here". He dismissed the monegasque quickly, but Charles wasn't having it, he stood there, frowning. "I said, go".
"The hell I'm going". That caught the twins' attention, so the Golden Boy knows how to curse. "I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure she's alright".
"That's my job". Max started, but Charles interrupted him.
"Because you're doing great at it, no? Look at her! Where were you?". He was angry, he knew that Max let it happen, it was too suspicious that he entered the garage just minutes after the beating happened. "You let this happen!"
"You don't know what you're talking about, so shut your fucking mouth". Max pushed him, a warning along the tone of his voice that things could escalate to something worse.
"Please, stop fighting". They didn't even know how they heard her, she whispered it so softly it was almost imperceptible. But as small as the request sounded, it still made them stop cold. She was so broken, so fragile, so vulnerable.
"We're going to the ER, and I don't want to hear anything else about this". They have never heard Charles speak so confidently in front of them. He helped Y/N off the floor and started guiding her towards the door, Max following close behind.
The drive to the hospital was awkward, the twins were curled up together on the passenger seat of Charles' Ferrari, whispering in dutch. Charles assumed that they were getting their stories straight, because that was what abused children did, plan and lie to protect their abuser. They were probably planning on how to explain that she fell or hit herself with a door. It was driving him insane, picturing Jos hurting her, the image made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. She was still tearing up between the whispering, and Max kept shushing her, running his fingers through her hair. Charles just couldn't understand how Max could let it happen, they were all almost 27, Max was old enough to stand up to his father. But he also couldn't understand how Y/N could forgive Max, he would feel so betrayed in her place. But there they were, hugging each other next to him, like their lives and sanities depended on it. It was years since he had ever seen them so human, so vulnerable. The night he spent with Y/N was the first time he actually saw her let her guard down, she let him in and it felt like a fever dream to him. Once they made it to the hospital, Y/N was sent to a box while Charles and Max stayed in the waiting room. The Dutch was notoriously nervous. He was uncomfortable, he felt exposed.
"I didn't let it happen". He said out of the blue, and Charles furrowed his brows and looked at him.
"Don't give me that bullshit, that you just casually walked in". The other man just sighed.
"I-". Max cut himself off, unsure if he should share the following information with Charles, but something inside he told him that he could trust the Golden Boy. "You're right, I let it happen". He could feel Charles tense up next to him. "It was better to let it happen than dealing with the alternative".
"What do you mean, Max?". Charles wanted to be angry but the look on Max's face softened him more than he expected it to.
"If we don't interfere with the punishment, he doesn't take off his belt". Max avoided his gaze, but he could see how blue of his eyes got shiner with tears. Max blinked them away, along with the memories of his childhood that still haunted him. "I never told you this".
"Okay". He agreed to keep the secret. But Charles needed to know why. "But Max, why haven't you confronted him? You're a fit guy, I'm sure that you are more than able to defend yourself". He sighed. "Y/N is incredibly strong too. I- I just don't get it. You guys don't have to keep him in your lives. You don't need him".
"He's my father, Charles".
"He's not a father. A father loves you, protects you and treats you with respect". His voice broke at the thought of his own father. "I know because that's the kind of father I had". He placed a hand on Max's shoulder, making the other look at him. "He's nothing more than a sperm donor. You both deserve better".
"You truly are good, Charles... and I mean that in the best way possible".
Two more weeks went by after that night. The twins were obviously avoiding him but he understood. He also noticed that Jos was not around anymore, he hoped that his chat with Max was enough to make the twins draw the limit. After that weekend they went to another race and then were free for summer break. He decided to spend it in Monaco, he wasn't feeling like partying because all he could think about was her and wonder how she was doing. His phone distracted him, a text from his best friend, Joris, popping up on the screen. "Regarde ça", read the text, along with a link address. What did his friend want him to check out? He opened the link, it was an article by Sky Sports.
"Jos Verstappen arrested: The Red Bull twins filed charges.
This afternoon, Jos Verstappen (former Formula 1 driver and father to the twins Y/N and Max Verstappen, current Red Bull Racing drivers and once and twice world champions respectively) was picked up from his penthouse by the Dutch police and arranged by night. The charges against him are "aggravated assault of an own child" and "causing several bodily harm to an own child". The report specifies that the charges were filed by the twins a week ago and their statements included specifics about domestic violence that could be dated from the twins' childhood to the present. The former driver could face up to 12 years of prison, a fine not exceeding 78,000 euros and a protective order was set in place."
Charles couldn't read more, the doorbell ringing through the air, startled him. He walked to the door to find Y/N on the other side. She had a pair of big sunglasses on, but the edge of black eye could be seen below them. Without exchanging a word, he let her into his apartment. She sat on the couch, her hands on her lap and her gaze down. Charles walked up to her and sat down by her side. They stayed in silence for a few minutes, he was afraid of asking, but he needed to know what happened. She broke the silence.
"I don't know if you know... but Max and I filed charges against our fath- against Jos". She was still not looking at him but he could tell by her shaky breath that she saw him nod his head at her. Since she didn't add anything else, he took her chin in his fingers softly and made her look at him. As carefully as he could, he removed the sunglasses, exposing the purple mark under her left eye and over her cheekbone. He suck in a short breath at the sight.
"Salopard". (Scumbag). He let out under his breath. "Mon cœur, what happened?" (My heart). She let a few tears drop and he whipped them away gently.
"He found out that we went to the hospital the other day. He was looking into our credit cards' movements, and he found the charge from the hospital. Got really mad. He-". But she cut herself off with a sob and he didn't need her to keep talking to know what happened. Instead, he pulled her to him and over his lap, hugging her close. She flinched, the still fresh marks of the belt on her lower back, and Charles softened his grip. He wanted to keep her there with him forever. She pulled away, their faces close and she could smell the mint on his breath.
"I love you". His eyes closed, the words murmured against her lips and that was all she needed to hear.
"Ik ook, Schat". (Me too, babe). He kissed her, like he did that night, with the same love, the same passion. Things heated up quickly, but unlike their first time, there was no urgency this time. He took his time with her, to love her like she deserved, to kiss every part of her body, to show her what love feels like. She chanted his name like a prayer and he knew that he could hear that for the rest of his life and never get tired. He never loved anyone like this and for once, she let herself admit that it was always him, always Charles, even when she denied it, even when she pushed him away, it was always him. No matter what, they would always fall there, in this moment, where nothing mattered but them. He was her good boy, the one that showed her that there was kindness out there, that the world could be a wonderful place, that life was worth living and that the hand against your cheek could be gentle and warm. There, in that couch, underneath him and safe in his arms, she saw herself happy, for the first time.
"Tu es l'amour de ma vie". (You are the love of my life). He whispered on her neck, then he landed a soft kiss under her ear. She closed her eyes, her hands going to his back to press him against her tighter.
"De mijne ook, Golden Boy". (Mine too).
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Okay, I'm alive. Sorry for being MIA for so long, I've been with literally zero energy to edit anything. I have a hell lot of stories to edit, I'll see what else I can upload. This was a request made by @bloodyymaryyy some time ago. I hope you like it and you guys enjoy it too!.
I'll be slowly taking some requests. I have another one that I'll try to publish soon. If you have any requests, leave them in the asks and I'll do them when I have the time!
107 notes
·
View notes
Goa
‘Beach’, en dan bedoel ik de term zoals die in de Barbiefilm als werkwoord wordt gebruikt, is zegmaar echt niet zo ons ding. Voor het eerst deze vakantie slapen we twee ochtenden uit. De rest van de dag hangen we rond in strandtenten, spelen een spelletje, lezen een boekje, drinken een cocktail en hebben we vooral het gevoel onze tijd te verdoen. In Goa kan je op elke straathoek een blik bier kopen en desgewild in je bikini op de stoep gaan liggen. Dat maakt het voor binnenlandse toeristen gewild en bijzonder, voor ons knabbelt het af aan onze veel te korte tijd hier. Jeroen regelt dat we een kayaktour kunnen doen in de uitloper van de rivier om het strand te ontvluchten en dat is, samen met de uitzichten op een rondje hardlopen, het hoogtepunt van ons verblijf. Verder is het ook wel lekker om uit te rusten van alle indrukken tot nu toe.
Wat we hier missen: een stoep langs de weg. Alle weggebruikers, waaronder non-stop claxonerende automobilisten en scooterrijders, koeien en waakse honden, delen dezelfde stoffige tweebaansweg, die daardoor bijzonder onprettig is om langs te lopen. Degene in wiens huis we logeren biedt ons zijn auto te leen aan en hoewel ik dacht autorijden wel tot gevorderdenniveau onder de knie te hebben na een paar vakanties in Italië, is er een héle grote noodsituatie met héél veel adrenaline nodig voordat ik dat hier zelf zou proberen. We zitten dus vast aan ritjes met zijn vaste taxichauffeur en voelen ons daardoor een beetje opgesloten.
Wat ik inmiddels ook mis: rauwe groenten en fruit. In de buitengebieden doe je boodschappen bij kleine groentestalletjes langs de drukkere stukken van de weg, maar daar komen we dus nauwelijks. Ik vraag onze chauffeur om een tussenstop te maken en koop een papaya en een grote, ronde, groene vrucht die ik niet thuis kan brengen. Terug in de auto vraag ik wat ik heb gekocht, het blijkt een avocado te zijn. Die groeien hier, net als cashewnoten en mango.
Beide vruchten zijn nog niet eetrijp dus smokkel ik ze mee in mijn handbagage naar Delhi. Mijn tas wordt er in de scanner uitgepikt door de douane, die op basis van de rontgenbeelden denkt dat ik een kokosnoot mee wil nemen (veeg teken voor de hoeveelheid vruchtvlees rond mijn avocadopit. Later leer ik dat kokosnoten verboden zijn omdat ze door het drukverschil tijdens de vlucht kunnen exploderen). Na overleg met een collega mag ik ze meenemen. Het zit best in de weg, dus tip: reis niet met een papaya en een gigantische avocado in je handbagage.
Niet gelukt: op zijn Goanees pittige vindaloo eten. Zonde omdat: we daar in de eerste plaats al meer voor naar Goa kwamen dan voor het strand. Overigens was het wel voor het eerst dat ik vindaloo at (in Nederland is die altijd wél te pittig) en was het een van de lekkerste dingen die ik tot nu toe gegeten heb.
2 notes
·
View notes
🎄🎁Zoekt u nog een origineel én nuttig kerstgeschenk waarmee men zelfs geld kan uitsparen ? 🥇🎁🎄
KIJK DAN EVEN NAAR DEZE POST !👠👞
www.roda.com
👠👞 PROTECT YOUR SHOES WHILE DRIVING !!
The Roda Shoe Clip is the only real solution for this well-known shoe problem. Continual braking and accelerating causes damage to the shoe-heels. Grit and stones, which are taking into the car under the soles of your shoes, will turn your car-mat into a coarse emery-paper.👠👞 www.roda.com ORDER:http://www.roda.com/form1.php. www.instagram.com/shoespecials
👠👞BESCHERM UW SCHOENEN, tijdens het autorijden ! De Roda Shoe Clip is de enige echte oplossing voor dit bekende schoenprobleem. Beschadiging van de schoenhakken ontstaat tijdens het wisselen van de pedalen bij het remmen en gas geven en terugnemen. Het vuil zoals zand en kiezelsteentjes welke via de zool van de schoen in de auto terechtkomen, maakt van uw automat een grof schuurpapier. 👠👞 www.roda.com ORDER:http://www.roda.com/form1.php.
#kerst, #kerstkado, #kerstkadootjes, #kadoidee, #present, #presents, #ideas, #tip, #kadotip, #onderdekerstboom, #christmas, #xmas, #christmastree, #Noël, #kado, #cadeau, #cadeaux, #gift, #giveaway, #geschenken, #sale, #kerstsfeer, #feestdagen, #kerstmarkt, #kerstmarkten
8 notes
·
View notes
Even over klimaat zeuren
Is het nou zo moeilijk? De wereld is gewend aan 280 parts per million CO2 in de atmosfeer. Dat getal is sinds 1800 aan het stijgen. Daardoor warmt de wereld op. Dat is een natuurwet.
Hoe snel die opwarming precies gaat, daar is nog geen natuurwet voor. Het gaat niet overal op aarde ook even snel. In maart was ik in Tromsø, boven de poolcirkel, waar het veel harder gaat: 5 graden warmer, terwijl de gemiddelde stijging 1,5 is.
Je zou zeggen dat iedereen moet kunnen narekenen dat het in ieder geval niet kouder gaat worden als we doorgaan met CO2 te stoken.
En warm is niet goed. De Sahara is bezig de Middellandse Zee over te steken. Waar we mensen uit Afrika die daarvoor op de vlucht gaan nog op niet al te vriendelijke wijze buiten fort Europe weten te houden - terwijl wij de temperatuur omhoog jagen, niet zij - wordt dat alweer een stukje lastiger als EU-genoten ook wat verder naar het noorden willen. Hoewel vrij verkeer van mensen niet betekent dat je in ieder EU-land kan gaan wonen zonder middelen van bestaan. Gedoe. Er komen ongezellige tijden aan. Nou is het leven in grote delen van de wereld al ongezellig en daar weten we ons aardig voor af te sluiten.
Waar ik naartoe wil is dat we hier niet doen wat er moet gebeuren. Van minder CO2 uitstoten gaat de temperatuur niet omlaag. Misschien gaat hij wat minder snel omhoog dan we allemaal vrezen, maar we zitten nu al aardig in de problemen. Ga maar even peilen hoeveel water er in het Gardameer staat.
En het kan best zijn dat ze in Italië nu net een heel slecht jaar hebben (net als vorig jaar), maar de trend is wel duidelijk.
En nu?
Ik ken mensen in de klimaatbeweging die het gebrek aan actie wijten aan domheid. Alsof mensen de som niet snappen die ik hierboven maak.
Dat lijkt me bezijden de waarheid. 75% van de mensen maakt zich hier zorgen over het klimaat. Wat dat precies betekent, weet ik ook niet, maar het lijkt erop dat ze de som wel snappen.
Het vervelende is alleen dat die mensen niks doen, of te weinig. Ik ben echt verbaasd als ik een keer met de auto naar mijn werk ga, de snelwegen staan gewoon helemaal vol. En ik als zie hoeveel kolen (niet de schoonste energie) er drie keer in de week naar Tata gaan, word ik ook niet vrolijk.
Het is me ook wel duidelijk dat de wereld er niet beter van wordt als ik niet meer in de auto stap, met die tien- of honderdduizend andere mensen die die keus ook hebben, of maken. Dus ik geniet er nog maar even van.
Intussen vraag ik me wel af waarom mensen niet aan preventie doen. Dit is gewoon een kwestie van preventie. Ik schrok me echt rot toen ik Martin Sommer in de Volkskrant schreef dat klimaatbeleid (net als stikstofbeleid) wel haalbaar en betaalbaar moest zijn. Voor een linkse journalist vind ik dat toch tamelijk achterlijk. Het klinkt net als de brandweer afschaffen, of de ziekenhuiszorg, omdat hij toch wel een beetje duur wordt.
Zit hier blinde paniek achter, angst om dingen te verliezen (lees Kahneman, angst voor verlies is een sterke drijfveer dan de hoop op winst) of gebrek aan voorstellingsvermogen?
Ik denk dat het laatste wel een rol speelt, in ieder geval bij mij. Ik weet dat de PPM's de verkeerde kant op gaan, maar ik kan me er toch moeilijk bij neer leggen dat allerlei dingen waar ik aan gewend ben, en die ik soms ook fijn vind, niet meer kunnen: vliegen, autorijden, spullen kopen, kaas eten. Wat ik daarvoor terug ga krijgen weet ik niet precies, maar ik geloof niet dat het me aanspreekt.
Het idee dat dingen die we al jaren doen (veel te veel mest uitrijden, veel te veel pesticiden, pardon, gewasbeschermingsmiddelen, spuiten) eigenlijk helemaal niet kunnen vind ik lastig.
Net zoals ik het lastig vind dat Europa rijk is om dat andere delen van de wereld arm zijn, en wij in staat zijn dat zo te houden. Ik ga hier geen zelfbeschuldigingssessie starten over het kolonialisme, want ik ben er zeker van dat iedereen die de kans krijgt andere mensen uitbuit, zeker als je die niet dagelijks ziet, of alleen op tv. Maar er zijn natuurlijk wel een paar dingen scheef.
Gaan we daar iets aan doen of laten we het erop aankomen? Meestal gebeurt het laatste. Er waren destijds weinig mensen die de Tweede Wereldoorlog niet hebben zien aankomen, maar weten is nog geen doen. En wat wel is geprobeerd, appeasement, hielp niet.
Bedoel ik nou dat we (geen idee wie dat zijn) pas in staat zijn iets te doen als het 10 mei 1940 is?
6 notes
·
View notes