blind max headcanons
Max resting her head on El's shoulder while she reads her a Wonder Woman comic. Max helps her pronounce words she gets stuck on because she already knows it by heart
She gets a walking stick but feels weird about using it in public in case it makes people stare at her. Will gets insistent about going places with her and is like "don't worry you're not what anyone's looking at" and she's like "uh ok" and eventually just by bumping into him discovers that he's been in full wizard regalia with a staff the entire time to draw attention away from her
Eventually she tries to learn to skateboard a little bit again. mostly she forbids anyone to come with her because she wants to feel independent and not watched, but sometimes it's fun for El to come too because then she can be a little less careful and trust El to redirect her if she's about to crash into something
She wears those sunglasses from the mall montage all the time
El sits next to her at Lucas' basketball game, mouth to Max's ear narrating the whole thing over the noise, not having the first idea how basketball works, but that's ok because Max doesn't give af either beyond Lucas
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For the writing promot: yell 👀
The beginnings of a lesbian maxiel story bc…why not! cw: creepy straight guys & their slurs
“You two should kiss.”
It’s not the first time strangers have asked this of her and Max. It’s always guys too, hung up on the fantasy of two gay women being in the same room as each other, how it must mean they are entitled to a free show.
Daniel blames Pornhub and the videos she used to get herself off, hidden underneath her teenage bedcovers. All before she knew any better, before she knew where to find the stuff made for women.
Now, she just laughs like the good natured girl she is, while Max shoots the guy a death glare he can’t see.
The air of the bar is damp, sticky like you could cut it with a knife if you tried. Each breath she pulls into her lungs tastes a little like the tequila she’d merrily accepted and Max had refused, brought by the same assholes trying to hold their attention now. She might be a millionaire, but she’s not about to turn down free booze.
There are two of them this time, nicknamed Cocky and Cockless in her brain. She’s not going to bother remembering their names when she’s sure they know nothing about her beyond that she is a woman, a race car driver and bisexual.
“Maxy here isn’t my type,” she half shouts over the stready thrum of bass that is vibrating the floor underneath her feet. “As cute as she is.”
She shoots Max a wink, but it only has Max’s expression darkening and her eyes narrowing, all while Cocky, perched in the stool between them, grins. Cockless, stood besides Max, tries to get her attention by tugging at her elbow. She shrugs him off firmly, then harder when he tries again.
True to his name, Cocky is bolder. He leans further into Daniel’s space, not at all hiding his attempts to look down her top.
“I thought all the pretty girls were into the butch ones,” he says, a grin on his face as his eyes flick back up to hers, like they are in on this joke together. Like it’s not being made at both her and Max’s expense.
His words press against the same bruise that has been blooming across her chest since the day Max joined their team. Raw talent in the car and all cool confidence once you dragged her away from it. Everything Daniel both wanted and wanted to be.
It’s too much, too close to the bone, the same way the hand that comes to rest on her leg is, big and clammy, engulfing her kneecap.
“Daniel,” Max says, something deliciously demanding in her voice, like she wants this man’s hands away from Daniel’s body as much as Daniel does.
Daniel can’t make herself look at her, afraid she’ll give something away.
“Not me,” she forces past her teeth brightly.
Cockless has given up with Max, is instead flagging down a bartender to order another drink. Cockless, who seemingly only has eyes for Daniel, keeps laughing.
“And what is your type then, sweetheart,” he asks, and the condescension in the pet name is all it takes for her decide she’s done playing nice.
He’s running his fingertip of the hand not touching her across the rim of his glass. She’s sure he thinks is sexy, but in reality looks fucking stupid. She keeps the smile on her face and makes sure all her teeth are showing when she answers.
“Someone with a big cock,” she says sweetly, letting her eyes drag over his form. “But it looks like I’m not finding that here either.”
Finally she looks at Max who is still hovering at Cocky’s shoulder. Nodding at her, Daniel stands, shoving the creeps hand from her skin. Max doesn’t need words to know they are leaving, and instead simply follows as Daniel leads them away from the bar and back towards the teams booth booth. It’s filled with the foul mouthed Red Bull mechanics they call friends, that at least pretend not to imagine them fucking at all hours of the day.
“Hey!” The Cocky calls to their retreating back, and his sweaty fingertips slide against the bare skin of her shoulder for just a second as he reaches to stop her.
She turns, ready to tell him to fuck off, only to find Max already in his face.
“If you touch her again, I will break all of your fingers,” she tells him, like a promise. “And shove my cock down your throat.”
Cocky backs off, hands in the air as he mumbles something about, fucking dyke bitch.
Daniel hardly hears him over the pounding of her heart, the clenching of her cunt.
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