Visiting Sick Kids At Ronald McDonald House, Copenhagen

I DO COMMISSIONS NOW!!! 🗣️🙌

I decided to open commissions just to see how it goes.

F1 x Neon Genesis Evangelion au

Max.

Story post to my previous drawing.

"Cut the signal! Shut it down!" Voices overlapped in his comms, frantic and useless.

His hands trembled against the controls. He wasn’t piloting anymore. He was inside something alive, something hungry, something that had always been waiting for an excuse to take over.

Max’s hands gripped the controls, fingers slick with sweat, blood pounding in his temples.

The Angel before him was relentless, its form twisting and shifting with eerie fluidity. Every strike was a surge of primal energy—a force that Max couldn’t seem to contain, no matter how hard he pushed Unit 33 to retaliate. His EVA was battered, bruised, the armor cracked and peeling away in places. But still, it stood. Still, it fought.

Another wave of energy hit, sending Max reeling inside the cockpit. He gritted his teeth, his body jolted violently as his EVA staggered backward, but it didn’t fall.

He couldn’t fall.

He had been fighting this Angel for what felt like days. The city around him had become little more than a memory—broken fragments of steel and stone scattered across the battlefield. But he was still there, still standing.

But he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

His vitals were spiking. The monitors flashed with warnings, but Max barely registered them. His breath came in ragged gasps, the LCL in his lungs thickening with each inhale. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his body, the kind that echoed deep into his bones, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep going. He had to fight.

There was no room for weakness.

He wanted to retreat—just for a moment, to assess the damage, to regroup, to think. He wanted to find a way to make sense of it all. But every time the thought crossed his mind, his heart raced. His chest tightened. Because if he stopped, if he gave in, lives would be lost.

People were counting on him.

He was their perfect pilot.

A perfect pilot didn’t retreat.

A perfect pilot didn’t allow failure.

Not when there was a city to protect. Not when people needed him. Not when NERV was watching, waiting for him to perform—to succeed.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest. His breath came out in short, sharp bursts. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, for release, but he refused to listen. His hands trembled, but they didn’t leave the controls.

NERV had no patience for weakness. They never had.

They didn’t care if he was hurt. They didn’t care if he was dying.

As long as he was standing, as long as he was able to fight, he had no choice but to keep going.

No one else should do this. No one else could do this.

He couldn’t stop.

With a deep, shaky breath, Max drove Unit 33 forward again, the EVA’s claws scraping against the cracked asphalt. The Angel was already charging toward him, its limbs twisting and shifting, ready to strike once more.

His pulse raced. His sync rate spiked dangerously. The cockpit shook violently as the Angel’s tendrils slammed into his EVA, throwing him back again. Max’s vision blurred as he fought to maintain control, his hands gripping the controls so tight his fingers went numb.

Pain flooded his chest. Pain shot through his head.

But he couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t give up.

“Max! Your vitals—!” The voice crackled over the comms, but it was distant, muffled, like someone shouting from far away.

It didn’t matter.

Max’s jaw clenched, his breath harsh and uneven. The world around him felt like it was spinning, the edges of his vision darkening, but he pushed it all down. He could still fight. As long as he could move, as long as he had breath in his lungs, he could keep fighting.

He had to.

He was their perfect pilot. The one who never stopped. The one who never failed.

Even as his body screamed for rest, even as his mind teetered on the edge of exhaustion, he kept going. Because the world demanded it.

Because they expected it.

A flicker at the edges of his vision. The sync rate display spiked.

85%... 90%... 94%...

He growled, shaking his head. "Not now. Not yet."

A second strike. The Angel’s attack tore into Unit 33’s plating, exposing the writhing mass of muscle beneath. Pain surged through him—not real, but real enough. His nerves lit up as if he had been struck himself. The sync rate climbed again.

97%... 99%...

"Max! Keep control!" The voice—his comms officer? His strategist? He couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter.

The anger came in a wave. A deep, all-consuming heat. The walls of the entry plug pulsed around him, the LCL thickening, as if alive. The heartbeat of the EVA—his heartbeat—pounded in his ears.

100%.

Then, silence.

It felt like hours had passed.

Unit 33 twitched. Its jaw cracked open wider than it should. A low, inhuman snarl vibrated through the battlefield.

The EVA moved—and Max wasn’t the one moving it.

With a deafening roar, Unit 33 launched itself forward, faster than before, limbs contorting, armor splitting as its organic form expanded. It tore into the Angel like a rabid animal, ripping through its core with bloodied claws. The once-monolithic creature writhed and screeched, but Unit 33 didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

Max gasped, trying to override the controls. Nothing responded. The EVA thrashed wildly, breaking the Angel apart piece by piece, ignoring the fact that it had already won. The thing was dead. And yet, Unit 33 was still moving, still destroying, still devouring.

"Cut the signal! Shut it down!" Voices overlapped in his comms, frantic and useless.

His hands trembled against the controls. He wasn’t piloting anymore. He was inside something alive, something hungry, something that had always been waiting for an excuse to take over.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was the sound of his own laughter—low, broken, and not entirely his own.

—

The cockpit disappeared.

The battlefield disappeared.

Everything disappeared.

—

Max floated.

Drifting in a vast, endless sea of nothingness, weightless. lost in a space without shape, without form.

It was as though the air itself had melted away. There was nothing. No edges, no boundaries. Just an infinite softness wrapping around him, enfolding him like a cocoon of silence. He couldn’t name it—the color, the sensation. It wasn’t light, but neither was it dark. It was... something. The absence of something. Or everything.

Every time he tried to name it, the thought slipped away, like sand through his fingers.

A slow breath.

The emptiness felt warm in his chest. It wasn’t his breath. It wasn’t his body. But the air still moved. It still filled him, and in that slow rise and fall, he felt something.

He knew this place.

A sense of relief bloomed, quiet and deep. It was as though something heavy had been taken from him, something unspoken, something he had never let himself acknowledge. A breath that he hadn’t known he was holding.

He Knew. Unit 33 was tearing apart the Angel—or worse, something else.

He could hear it. NERV was screaming through comms, trying to reach him.

But he didn’t care.

Because this was the only place where he could be vulnerable.

No battle. No expectations. No weight crushing down on his shoulders, forcing him to be perfect. Here, he didn’t have to hold up the façade of strength, didn’t have to wear the armor he’d built around himself.

Here, there was nothing.

And in that nothingness, it was waiting for him.

A figure stood above him. Watching. Protecting.

It had no metal, no restraints, no plating to hide behind. It bared its true form—muscle and sinew, raw and unshaped, not human, but something close. Its eyes, deep and endless, held something he couldn’t name. It reached for him, but did not touch him. It didn’t need to.

Its presence was vast, too large to understand, and yet its outline was etched into his mind as if it had always been there. It didn’t move, but he felt it, hovering above him like a shadow without a form. Or maybe it was light—he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that it was watching.

A strange pulse—faint but unmistakable—washed over him, and the space around him seemed to shift, as if the very nothingness breathed with him.

He felt held.

It was holding him.

Keeping him safe.

It was not a grip, not an embrace. It was a knowing, an understanding that didn’t need words or touch. It existed between the silence, in the place where nothing could reach him.

And for a moment, he allowed himself to float in it.

Weightless.

There were no edges. No time. The concept of moments felt like waves, but they never broke. He drifted, and yet he didn’t move. And somewhere beneath it all, he could feel it—the thing that had always been there.

He didn’t know if it was his.

He didn’t know if it was him.

But it was with him.

His fingers twitched. His body, for the first time in so long, felt light.

His eyelids grew heavy.

He let them close.

His mind felt detached, his thoughts soft like ripples in water, fading before they could take shape. There was no rush. No urgency. Only the slow, quiet rhythm of something waiting.

The figure above him remained, and in its presence, he didn’t feel the need to understand. He only existed—floating, breathing, and being held by something that wasn’t quite light, and wasn’t quite shadow.

A moment, perhaps. Or maybe, no moment at all.

It didn’t matter.

He let go.

Let it take over.

And for the first time in a long time, Max rested.

kiss from point scorer to point scorer

(the promised haasbands art tehee)

I might start to post my little launt notes if the fandom is still alive.

First time actually actively using tumblr so idk how this really works.

I think I’ve read almost every Launt ff on ao3 and I need more so I might as well add to the collection

me with all my unfinished fics

After fighting with my Notes app and Tumblr I finally got it. The spicy (nsfw) confessional Launt ficlet I promised!! Although it’s not really a ficlet anymore. I got a bit carried away.

Anyway…! I hope you enjoy and just some warnings:

Minors do not interact!!

There’s no explicit consent (in this doc they are both horny for each other so I count that as consent)

And if there are any spelling, grammar or formatting mistakes please do let me know!

Hope you enjoy!

It was a sweltering night in Monza, and the post-race celebrations had carried on longer than usual. James and Niki had found themselves in a bar not far from the circuit, downing shots and beers as if tomorrow didn’t exist.

By the time they staggered out into the moonlit streets, they were laughing loudly, the alcohol making them forget everything that existed around them. They wandered aimlessly, their laughter echoing off the silent buildings, until they came across a small, dimly lit church.

“Look at this place,” James said, pushing the heavy, surprisingly unlocked, wooden door open. “An open invitation” He flashed a wide grin towards Niki “Never been in a church while drunk before.”

Niki chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the empty nave. “You’re a terrible influence, James.”

He shook his head but followed James inside. The dim light from the stained glass windows cast colorful patterns on the stone floor, giving the place an ethereal quality. They wandered around, whispering jokes and daring each other to do silly things.

James spotted the confessional booth and a devilish idea sparked in his mind.

“Hey! Hey, Niki, Niki! let’s have some fun! You get in one side, and I’ll be the priest. Time to atone for your sins!” James grinned, his voice slurred as he staggered into the confessional.

Niki laughed, a rare, genuine sound. “Atone for what sins, exactly?”

“Oh, I’m sure we can think of something,” James replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Niki, too inebriated to resist the absurdity, followed suit and entered the other side, closing the door behind him. He slumped down onto the wooden bench, the small window between them allowing their voices to carry clearly.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” James intoned, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “It’s been… well, never mind how long it’s been since my last confession. Let’s hear yours, Lauda.”

Niki leaned back against the wooden wall, his laughter dying down. “Fine, fine. I’ll play along.” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

James stifled a laugh. “Tell me your sins”

At first, Niki did play along, joking about minor indiscretions and taking a swig of his booze every now and then. But as the alcohol loosened his tongue, the mood shifted.

“You know,” Niki began, his voice quieter now, “there’s someone I like… someone I shouldn’t”

“Are you going to tell me about your wet dreams now?” James asked with a loud laugh as he shifted on the wooden bench to lean against the parting frame, making himself more comfortable to continue sipping on his booze.

Niki joined in on the laugh “I thought I was supposed to confess my sins, so will you let me finish?” He asked without thinking, his mind completely cloudy from the alcohol

James, intrigued and slightly more sober, pressed his face against the window that was separating the two “so you do have wet dreams?? Niki, no feelings at all, Lauda?” He chuckled and settle down into a proper sitting position again.

“Tell me more about the lucky girl” he urged, his voice a mixture of amusement and genuine interest.

Niki hesitated, took another sip of alcohol, then continued “It’s someone close to me. I think about them a lot. About us, together. It’s… intense.”

James felt a jolt of surprise, his amusement fading into something more intense. “Them?” he repeated, with a strange feeling rising in his chest. Hope?

There was only silence coming from the other side and if James wasn’t sure he didn’t hear the door open and close, he would’ve thought Niki had left.

On the other side Niki sat staring at his hands, moving only after a few seconds to finish his bottle and continue talking. He couldn’t stop himself now even if he wanted.

“Him. I think about him a lot.”

“A man?” James felt a flush rising to his cheeks, his curiosity piqued. “What do you fantasize about, Niki?”

The confessional’s darkened interior seemed to close in on them as Niki’s voice grew more detailed, describing his desires with a candor that made James flush. He felt the growing heat in his own body and started to fidget with the loose label of his bottle, trying to distract his mind from the images Niki was painting.

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the effect Niki’s words were having on him.

“I imagine touching him, tasting him, feeling his body against mine,” Niki said, his voice deepening with desire. James squirmed, trying to remain composed but failing miserably. His breath quickened, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch himself, his arousal overwhelming.

“Fucking hell” he let out with a deep sigh, almost groan, as he wrapped his fingers around his aching length. Too lost in the feeling James didn’t register how loud he actually let out that sigh and that Niki fell silent.

It took him three whole strokes before he noticed the silence. Thinking Niki was just in thought or hesitant to continue, he spoke up “don’t get shy now, tell me more.” James tried to sound as composed as possible but he had to bite the back of his free hand so he wouldn’t let out an obscene moan.

Niki chuckled slightly, already suspecting that James was getting off to his confession and maybe slightly enjoying the thought of it.

He continued to share more fantasies, this time far more detailed “Its gotten so bad that I have to leave press meeting early because thoughts of him fill my mind. Of me wanting him to just shut up and finally take me, fill me up.” His tone growing more intimate, until he was certain of what James was doing on the other side.

“I want him to take me in my garage. The motorhome. Everywhere. I imagine leaning over the workbench with him behind me, me with my back pressed against the cold wall, legs wrapped around his hips as he comes deep inside of me.” Niki continued before going silent again to listen to James ragged breaths.

“Are you enjoying this, James?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and something darker.

James froze but then whispered a small “Yes” followed by a whine he wasn’t able to suppress.

There was a long pause. Then, without warning, Niki exited his side of the confessional and re-entered on James’s side. James was too stunned to react, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire.

Niki looked down at him with hooded eyes “look at you, cramped in a confessional booth with your cock out and hard, getting off to your best friends fantasies about getting fucked by a man”

He leaned down, pulled James hand back and replaced it with his own. “Tell me, James, do you imagine yourself in my place?” Niki whispered, his lips only inches away from James ear “no… you imagined yourself as the man I was talking about. Weren’t you?” He asked with a slight chuckle as he let his thumb slide over James leaking slit.

James leaned back, surrendering to the moment as Niki took control. “Niki. Please” He pleaded, the sacred silence of the church was filled with their hushed voices and James moans.

Niki pushed James thighs apart and slowly lowered his body until he sat on his knees between them.

“Do you want to know who the man in my fantasies is?” He asked, not daring to break eye contact as he lazily stroked James length.

When James nodded hastily, the hand between his teeth preventing him from letting out any sound, including words, Niki grinned.

“It’s you” he whispered before licking a broad strip over James entire length without hesitation “it has always been just you” Niki continued but hastily went back to sucking and licking at James dick.

James let out a chocked moan “fuck. Tell me that’s really true” he said, panting, as his hand moved into Niki’s hair to tug him closer.

“I would never lie in a house of god” Niki placed a kiss on the tip of James dick before wrapping his lips around it and swallowing him as deep as he could.

As Niki worked, James’s fingers tangled in his hair, his mind a whirl of emotions. The reality of what was happening crashed over him, but there was no room for regret or hesitation. In that moment, all that mattered was Niki and the way he made him feel.

Minutes later, as they both sat in the afterglow, the reality of what they had done settled in. After zipping his pants back up James looked at Niki, who was still kneeling, his eyes full of a mixture of satisfaction and uncertainty.

“Are you alright?” Niki asked, his voice soft.

James nodded, reaching out to cup Niki’s cheek. “Better than alright,” he murmured before leaning down to place a soft kiss on Niki’s lips. “Guess we both had some sins to confess”

Niki laughed, a genuine, carefree laugh that felt like a release as he leaned into the touch “Yeah, I guess we did.”

James laughed softly, pulling Niki up to have him sit on his lap and kissing him once more with a content sigh “I dreamt a lot of this.”

“Of me sucking you off in a confessional?” Niki snorted, about to add something, but James cut him off. “Hey! You know exactly what I mean so just shut up and come here.”

Before Niki could respond, James closed the gap between them again, this time capturing Niki’s lips in a firm, demanding kiss. Niki melted into it, his hands finding their way to James’s neck, gently tugging at the hair there as the kiss deepened.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, and James rested his forehead against Niki’s. “See? Sometimes it’s better to just shut up and let things happen.”

Niki laughed softly, his fingers tracing patterns on James’s back. “You always know how to get the last word, don’t you?”

James shrugged, pulling Niki closer. “Not always. Just when it counts.”

Niki let out a light chuckle, leaning his head against James’s shoulder. They sat there in the confessional booth, the world outside forgotten, lost in the unexpected intimacy of their shared confession.

Just out of curiosity

For @christiangeistdorfer some photos/video and information on Falco and Niki Lauda's friendship!

This video is of when Falco and Niki Lauda had a shared birthday party. Near the end Falco drags Niki on stage to dance with him and then accept a birthday cake which Niki then chucks at another friend!

Here is a video of Falco performing at one of the Lauda Air parties. You can see Niki dancing in the crowd at parts.

Information: Being both famous Austrians Niki Lauda and Falco got to know each other and became quite close friends. Niki always had good music taste so this is unsurprising. Niki would host big parties/Christmas parties for his employees at Lauda Air and Falco would go and perform at them. Him and Niki would also go to some events together and go to some night clubs together. When Falco was killed in an accident Niki Lauda personally flew Falco's body back to Austria on his plane. He attended the funeral without his cap and would go on to name one of his planes after Falco. They were really good friends.

sometimes i think im funny