neptunesvoid
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Summary
Max only wanted to stream a casual winter break sim race.
Unfortunately, his cat decided the brake pedal was a bed, Lando Norris decided violence was a personality trait, and Charles Leclerc — who was absolutely not supposed to be visible on camera — decided that Max’s bare legs were a public safety emergency.
Or: Max meows on stream, Charles loses a fight with a gaming chair, and everyone learns about mon chœur.
Series
- Part 1 of A Study in Losing Composure
Bookmarked by neptunesvoid
18 Jun 2026
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Summary
Three friends. One year left. Someone who knows what they did.
When the messages start arriving signed G, Lando, Charles and Alex discover that guilt isn't something you outrun, especially not in a town where everyone is watching and someone has been watching closer than most.
Bookmarked by neptunesvoid
15 Jun 2026
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Summary
“You are severely touch-starved Mr Leclerc," the doctor explained quietly, pushing the tissue box towards his patient. "You're the worst case I've ever seen, to be honest. Your body is screaming for physical affection, which causes this… heightened emotivity."
"Can I just have depression like normal people?" Charles asked, his voice breaking on the last syllable, as he grabbed a tissue from the box.
OR
Charles has a condition. He needs to be hugged as much as possible, otherwise he cries. Constantly. The paddock tries to help. Mysteriously, Max's hugs work much better than everyone else's.
Bookmarked by neptunesvoid
08 Jun 2026
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Summary
Charles, a fighter pilot for the French-Monégasque Armée de l'Air, is also second in line to the Monégasque throne. And, so what, if he has a crush on Max Verstappen? Even as a tifoso? And, so what, if Max Verstappen just bought him a drink?
He's a trained, professional soldier who's done two tours in Afghanistan... He can be totally normal about this.
(He cannot, in fact, be normal about this)
(But that's okay, because neither can Max)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 155,723
- Chapters:
- 16/16
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- Bookmarks:
- 271
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Bookmarked by neptunesvoid
01 Jun 2026
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Soulmates bloomed like wildflowers through pain—each bruise a petal, each scar a stem. Love wasn’t spoken. It was grown. Quietly. Brutally. Beautifully. To be someone’s soulmate wasn’t to save them. It was to bleed where they bled. To bloom where they are broken. And still choose to stay in the garden.
Bookmarked by neptunesvoid
28 May 2026