#“no he is not. he is literally 5 years old”

[checkeredflagggs]

Adopt-a-Dad

Pairing: charles leclerc x mom!reader x max verstappen

summary: Avery, Charles’ stepdaughter, decided that Max is now her second dad — Charles panics, Max freezes, and y/n just laughs.

a/n: this came from a conversation on @sinofwriting’s discord

Masterlist | Taglist

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 172,382 others

f1gossip: Charles Leclerc seen with new female! New girlfriend alert or just a fling? It’s been a couple of years since the young man from Monaco has been seen with anyone consistently

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user1: Nooooooooo! This was supposed to be me

↳user2: This Is So Sad Alexa Play Despacito

↳user1: wow you’re old

user3: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

user4: can you hear something?

↳user5: what? Your heart breaking??

↳user6: it’s more than just your heart — the entire country of Italy just fell to their knees

↳user7: and the entirety of the teenage and middle age female population…

↳user4: wow just call me unoriginal why don’t you

user8: Ok I’m saying it's not new — look at that body language!

↳user9: you’re so right — that’s something you do when you’re comfortable with someone

user10: oh look a new golddigger…

↳user11: you don’t know that!

↳user10: I can take an educated guess…

Private Messages, Charles and y/n

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,823,129 others

tagged: yn

charles_leclerc: Happy anniversary, mon chouchou. These past 5 years have been everything to me ♥️

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user12: 5 YEARS?!?

maxverstappen1: congratulations on the anniversary

user13: not the soft launch…Charles we want face pictures!

oscarpiastri: happy 5 years!

user14: how on earth has he kept it from us for so long?!?

↳user15: that’s what I want to know!!

arthur_leclerc: glad you’ve been part of the family for 5 years now!

↳yn: thank you for welcoming me in ❤️

pierregasly: happy anniversary calmar & yn

f1

Transcript:

1: So Charles…this past week you hard launched a relationship

2: Yeah. Yeah I did. Y/N and I have been together for about 5 years now and I love her so much

3: So long!

C: yeah we decided pretty early on we weren’t going to make a big deal out of us. Keep it to ourselves for a while.

4: What made you decide to hard launch then? No one really knew who she was!

5: Yeah we talked when those paparazzi photos came out and we just decided together that we were ready for the world to know about us

6: You know I never hid her because I was ashamed but because I was almost greedy. I didn’t want to share her — I love her so much, even when she drinks redbull

liked by user, user, user, and 1,824,639 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: Chaos in the paddock this week! Charles Leclerc sits down with us and talks about the ‘25 season, the car this year, and his unexpected relationship reveal

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user16: oh my god look at him — he’s so in love…

↳user17: he’s literally glowing

user18: thats adorable — how he explained that he wasn’t hiding her, he just wanted her for himself…

↳user19: find yourself a man like Charles challenge failed…

user20: I love that he talks about her redbull addiction 😂

↳user21: and that he loves her regardless of it

↳user22: she must drink a lot of he comments on it 😂

↳user21: ok im gonna laugh if she’s secretly a redbull fan…

↳user22: she’d be just like Charles then…

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 823,526 others

f1gossip: Charles caught talking about yn again! This time on how they started dating and the challenges they faced — none more than the LN’s being fans of Redbull Racing since Sebastian Vettel

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user23: oh this is my Romeo and Juliet!

↳user24: hopefully without all the murder…

user25: I love them??

↳user26: love that the biggest Ferrari fan has a redbull girlfriend

user27: ok but what are the odds they just sit around and talk about max?

↳user28: I’m guessing pretty high

↳user29: gossip about max and shit talk the rest of the team

↳user28: as they should tbh

user30: that’s the cutest first date ever

↳user31: what was it? Can’t watch the interview yet

↳user30: yn was (is?) a dog walker and one day they ran ahead of her and tangled up with Charles and they like fell together

↳user30: and every time he finally got free and attempted to leave, they did it again

↳user30: so they just decided to hang out for the day and the rest is apparently history

↳user31: oh my god that is cute…

Bluesky

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 728,453 others

f1gossip: newly revealed girlfriend of Charles Leclerc seen out with a young child. Possible daughter? Or is she just babysitting?

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user32: SHE HAS A DAUGHTER?!?

↳user33: what in the multiverse is happening right now?!?

user34: say it with me — GOLD DIGGER

↳user35: just because she potentially had a daughter doesn’t mean she’s a gold digger!

↳user36: and let’s say that again! POTENTIALLY. Nothing has actually been announced!

user37: ok but if that is her daughter?? Girl dad Charles?!!

↳user38: ok but that’s it! That’s literally it!

↳user39: we’ve been blessed with the possibility!

user50: why is this ok?! Like leave the woman and her maybe daughter alone!

↳user51: right?!? Like they literally chased her down to get these pictures

↳user52: she’s not a public figure — just let them live their life!

Private Messages, Charles and y/n

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 827,632 others

f1gossip: At the Monaco GP this weekend, we’ve got yn, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, and her daughter, Avery! They stopped to answer some fans questions as they walked into the paddock with Charles and the Leclerc’s

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user53: oh they’re both so sweet!

↳user54: they really really were!

user55: hate how it happened, happy that it did…

↳user56: that’s the truest thing I’ve ever heard

user57: Avery is adorable! She was just hopping along, answering questions 🥹🥹

↳user58: this is now an Avery LN protection account

↳user59: insert that one meme — I’ve only had her a day…

user60: her little redbull suit…

↳user61: Charles was right — the LN’s are a redbull family!

redbullracing

liked by yn, max verstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 1,923,823 others

tagged: yn, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: Looks like we have a new fan visiting us for the weekend! Welcome Avery!

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user62: she beelined right to him!

↳user63: the pure panic Charles had when she first broke away from him to the acceptance when he saw where she was going to mild panic again when she didn’t stop and just rammed into him

↳user64: ok but max was so cute with her? Like he was just so gentle? He just crouched down to talk to her? And he lifted her up??

↳user65: girl dad max??

user66: Avery did not want to let go of max

↳user67: to be fair I wouldn’t either?

↳user68: the way that both Charles and yn were just ok with max holding her?

charles_leclerc: Not for the weekend! Just for a couple of hours!

↳maxverstappen1: don’t lie — she’d rather stay with me

↳yn: we have dogs to tempt her back

↳charles_leclerc: lewishamilton being Roscoe!

↳lewishamilton: …sure?

user69: ok but Avery is such a copy of Charles?

↳user70: do you mean the wink?

↳user71: the same stance?

↳user72: the look of frustration on her face?

↳user73: the look of concentration on her face when max started yapping?

↳user69: all of the above tbh…

arthur_leclerc: no no no Avery it’s Ferrari forever!

↳user74: sorry but I think we lost her to redbull…

↳arthur_leclerc: NO

skysports

skysports went live!

skysports: follow along with Nico Rosberg as he talks Monaco, new regulation rules, and drivers’ chances for this weekend

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user75: Nico!

user76: go bug Ferrari!

user77: who are you gonna curse this time?

user78: wait what was that?!

user77: was that Avery?

user79: AVERY

user80: Nico I swear to god I need you to get closer to redbull and max and Avery right now

user75: did Avery just ask max fk be her second dad?!?

user76: she did!

user81: the blue screen on max’s face right now

user78: Avery: “yeah mum and daddy watch your car all the time and they talk about you a lot and they get all red like they do when they talk about each other”

user76: this girl is a riot

user82: i love her

user77: Nico’s face right now…

user76: Avery again: “and daddy and his family are all Ferrari people except they suck and redbull doesn’t except this year they kinda do but not you and anyway I need support against the Ferrari and didn’t tell you that mum and daddy really like talking about you so I’m gonna call you papa and you can come and live with us and Leo and daddy said you have 3 cats and a dog that’s so cool I have the perfect place for a cat tree for them-”

user83: did Avery just wingman her parents??

user82: my question is why is it working?!?

user84: look at max’s face he’s totally charmed right now

user75: if he doesn’t go home with them…

user76: ok but Charles (and yn) watch max’s onboards??

user77: I need to know more information about that

user80: same! Is it strategy? Is it pining? Is jt foreplay??

user85: oh Avery is still going’

user84: love how she’s listing out all these reasons on why max should start dating her parents..

user85: they’re pretty and you’re pretty so it all works out

user83: I need another redbull adult in my life

user75: I need more access to pets

user79: apparently they blush whenever someone asks about max??

user76: Avery is a queen

user77: this is the content I pay to see!

Private Messages, Charles and y/n

Private Messages, Charles/Max and y/n

f1gossip

liked by arthur_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 284,193 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc

yn: trying something new ♥️ (we’ll announce this one ourselves, thank you)

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[ilovejb]

hi I saw your requests were open!! Could you write hurt/comfort for lewis pullman? maybe they met as costars doing top gun maverick and with his recent fame people don’t like her so she comforts her? Thank you!

| A little too much |

Pairings : Lewis Pullman x female!reader

Summary : When the world refuses to see her worth, she learns to hold her head high—with a little help from the one person who always believed in her.

Warnings : Online harassment (mentions of hate comments, cyberbullying) Insecurity/self-worth struggles,hurt/comfort themes. Use of y/n. Fluffy ending though don’t worry !!

Authors note : Writing this was hard because every time I thought of Lewis Pullman I blacked out for 3–5 business days.

You hadn’t expected Top Gun: Maverick to change your life.

You were cast as Lieutenant Emily “Echo” Reynolds—one of the new recruits in the Top Gun program. Small role. One that barely skimmed the surface of the final cut, but enough to land you a seat at the premieres, a few lines of dialogue, and a credit you’d clung to in the years after like it meant more than it did. You’d done your job. Clean, professional. Not memorable, not Oscar-worthy—but you’d shown up, hit your marks, delivered your lines.

And you’d met Lewis.

He was warm. Funny. Kind in the way not many actors were, especially the ones with last names like Pullman and eyes that saw more than they let on. You didn’t expect him to talk to you much. You weren’t Glen or Miles or Monica—you weren’t the inner circle.

But he did. He talked to you. At lunch, on set, at wrap parties. You shared trailers when the sun was too hot and shade was a luxury. He shared chips with you once when you forgot to eat. You didn’t call it fate. You weren’t that romantic.

But two months later, when he called you to ask if you wanted to get dinner when you were both back in L.A.—you started to think maybe something bigger had been at play.

Now, two years later, he was famous. Not “Top Gun” famous. Not “I think I recognize him” famous. But everywhere. Talk shows, GQ spreads, Dior campaigns, dramatic indie films and tentpole blockbusters alike.

And you? You were his girlfriend.

Only… no one seemed to like that.

At first, it was little things. Tweets that said “How did she bag Lewis Pullman??” or “Y/N wasn’t even a main character lol she’s just riding the Top Gun clout.”

Then came the Instagram DMs. Pages with profile pictures of teenage girls or anonymous blank circles.

“You’re literally just a nobody.”

“He could do SO much better.”

“Why would someone as sweet as Lewis date someone as average as you?”

“Hope you know he’s going to cheat eventually. You’re just the practice run.”

“You must be amazing in bed to keep him around. Because it’s definitely not the face.”

You tried not to read them. You turned off comments. You blocked. Reported. Ignored.

But they kept coming.

And one day, one of them found your old audition tape.

They posted it to Twitter. The caption said: “Y’all remember when Lewis Pullman had to act with THIS?”

The video had 72K likes in 6 hours.

You called your agent crying. She told you to stay off socials.

You told Lewis nothing.

Because he had enough to deal with.

Because he was finally getting the recognition he deserved.

Because you didn’t want to be that girlfriend—the one who couldn’t take the heat.

You kept your mouth shut. Even when the hate turned from cruel to cutting.

Even when it bled into Reddit threads and fan forums.

“I bet she’s using him for clout.”

“She’s so mid.”

“He could date an actual actress, not some glorified extra.”

“Y/N? Seriously?”

“God, she’s just not pretty enough for him.”

You looked in the mirror and saw it too.

You weren’t model-thin. Your jawline wasn’t sharp. You had soft cheeks and skin that broke out when you were stressed. Your hair was never the perfect amount of messy and styled. Your outfits were practical, not paparazzi-worthy. You didn’t know how to pose at events. You smiled too wide. You stood with your legs too close together. You said dumb things in interviews and forgot to look into the right camera.

You were a mess.

And now, the whole internet saw it too.

The worst part?

Lewis had no idea.

You were quiet when he came home that night. His keys jingled in the bowl by the door. You were curled up on the couch, hoodie pulled over your knees, blue light from your phone casting shadows under your eyes.

He dropped a kiss on your head like he always did and then paused.

“You okay?” he asked gently, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You flinched before you could stop yourself. “Yeah,” you lied, trying to smile. “Just tired.”

Lewis looked at you like he didn’t believe you. “Long day?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “You could say that.”

He sat beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You stiffened again. You hated it. You hated that his warmth, the thing you used to crave, felt like acid now—like a spotlight. Like everyone could see you didn’t deserve it.

He squeezed your arm. “Babe.”

You blinked too hard, and your phone slipped from your hands. He caught a glimpse of the screen before it fell face-down onto the carpet. You moved fast to grab it.

Too late.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

You didn’t look at him.

He reached down, picked up the phone. You reached for it, but he held it out of reach. “Hey, what’s—” He opened the app. Froze. Read one comment. Then another.

You felt your stomach drop. “Lewis—”

“Is this why you’ve been quiet all week?” His voice was sharp. Not angry. But something close. Something wounded.

You turned away.

He stared at the screen, scrolling through DM after DM. “Jesus.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you whispered.

Lewis looked at you like you’d said the most absurd thing in the world. “You didn’t want to bother me? Y/N, people are harassing you.”

“They’re just stupid fans,” you said quickly, eyes stinging. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

You didn’t know how to explain that. That some part of you felt like you deserved it. Like all those people were just saying what everyone else was thinking.

You bit your lip. “I didn’t want to make it about me. Your career is exploding. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Lewis sat back like the words physically knocked the wind out of him. “You think this isn’t about us?”

You stayed silent.

He threw the phone onto the couch and turned fully to you. His voice was low now. Hurt. “Y/N, you were the best thing to come out of that set for me. You still are. The fact that you’re hurting and I didn’t know? That’s what makes me sick.”

Your eyes brimmed over, the tears hot and fast.

“And I don’t care what anyone on the internet says,” he continued, voice cracking a little. “They don’t know you. They don’t know what it was like to see you in costume, chewing gum between takes and mouthing everyone else’s lines because you were so damn prepared. They don’t know how you pulled me aside after I forgot my cue and whispered the right one like it was a secret. Or how you stood next to me at the wrap party and let me vent about how nervous I was to live up to my dad’s name.”

You blinked hard.

“They don’t know how you came to my mom’s birthday party even though you were terrified of meeting my family, and won over every single person in the room because you’re funny and real and kind.”

“Lewis—”

“They don’t know how you fall asleep with your mouth open and then wake up embarrassed and cover it like it makes you unlovable.” He shook his head, voice soft now. “They don’t know what I know.”

You were crying full now. Hands shaking. Voice cracked. “It just—it got in my head.”

“I know.” He reached for you, arms wrapping tight around your frame. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it.”

You clung to him like you were drowning. He held you tighter.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could breathe.

You didn’t leave the house for five days.

Not for coffee. Not for groceries. Not for air.

You canceled your lunch with your old Top Gun castmates—the few who still remembered you. You ignored text after text from your friends, all of them asking if you were okay in that soft, guilt-laced way people use when they’ve just realized how long it’s been since they checked in.

You stayed in Lewis’s oversized hoodie, the one with the tiny burn hole on the sleeve from when he tried to make you crème brûlée at 2 a.m. and nearly torched the entire kitchen.

It still smelled like him. Like cinnamon and cedar and that stupid overpriced hair gel he swore he didn’t use.

You hated that it comforted you.

Lewis didn’t push you to leave. Not once.

He cooked breakfast without asking if you wanted it. Left little Post-it notes on your mirror—drink water / you are loved / they’re wrong about you. He took every interview request and promo obligation and moved it. Cleared the week. For you.

And still, you barely spoke.

You couldn’t. Because talking meant thinking, and thinking meant reliving, and reliving meant scrolling.

You knew better. You knew not to check the tags. Not to search your name. Not to read the comments on his latest GQ cover where you were only mentioned in passing but still managed to become a target.

“She’s dragging him down.”

“PR relationship. Has to be.”

“Can someone please explain to me how Lewis Pullman went from rising star to babysitting his insecure little groupie of a girlfriend?”

“Her eyes are dead in every photo. It’s giving boring.”

“She’s so lucky he doesn’t have better taste.”

You wanted to disappear. To melt into the hardwood floor and never be seen again. You wondered if there was a way to shrink yourself small enough to fit into his pocket and never come out.

On day six, you finally said something.

“I think I want to delete everything.”

Lewis was on the couch reading a script. He looked up slowly.

“Everything?”

You nodded. “Instagram. Twitter. My website. My reels. All of it.”

He set the script down. “Babe, are you sure?”

You tried to smile. Failed. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep it.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. Then, he reached across the coffee table, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“You are. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He paused. “But if it’s breaking you right now, we’ll take it down.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

You breathed for the first time in days. He squeezed your hand.

You deleted it all.

One by one.

Photos from set. Gone.

Thirst traps that never made you feel sexy. Gone.

The tweet where you made a dumb joke about Tom Cruise being shorter than expected. Gone.

You cried when it was over.

Lewis didn’t say I told you so. He just wrapped you in a blanket and held you so long your leg fell asleep.

And then it got worse.

Paparazzi photos surfaced. Ones from a month ago, outside a gas station, when you’d worn your pajama bottoms in public and hadn’t realized someone was watching. You were with Lewis. He was holding your hand.

The headline read: “New It Boy Lewis Pullman Settling Down with Mediocre Nobody?”

The article wasn’t even subtle.

“She’s forgettable at best, unprofessional at worst.”

“No major roles since Maverick, which frankly wasn’t a major role to begin with.”

“Sources say Lewis’s team isn’t thrilled about the relationship.”

“She’s been described as clingy, emotionally volatile, and embarrassingly jealous.”

Your ears rang. Your chest caved in.

There weren’t any sources. That was the worst part. They just made it up. Invented a version of you the world could hate, and then handed you over to the wolves.

When Lewis found you, you were shaking.

“I’m not clingy,” you said as he walked in.

His face twisted in confusion. “What?”

“I’m not. I give you space. I don’t make everything about me. I let you work. I don’t even go to half the premieres with you because I know people will talk.”

His heart dropped to his knees. “Hey, hey—where is this coming from?”

You turned your phone toward him. Let him see the headline. The photos. The bolded words you couldn’t unread.

He paled. Sat beside you in silence.

You wiped at your eyes. “Do you think they’re right?”

Lewis’s mouth parted. “What—what the hell kind of question is that?”

“Do you regret this?” Your voice cracked. “Being with me?”

Something in him shattered.

He reached for your face, thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks like it would change the world.

“No,” he whispered. “God, no. You are the only thing that keeps me grounded. Do you know what fame feels like most days? It feels like everyone wants a piece of me except the people who actually see me. But you—you see me. You always have.”

You wanted to believe it. You really did.

But the internet was louder. The world was louder.

And you were so, so tired.

“I just don’t want to make your life harder.”

He leaned forward, forehead pressed to yours. “You make my life worth it.”

And for a minute, the noise faded.

The next day, Lewis went live on Instagram. He almost never did that. His fans were used to curated posts and PR campaigns. But this wasn’t that.

It was his living room. No filter. No lighting. Just him.

He looked into the camera, tired and soft and real.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” he began. “Because I don’t want to give hate more airtime than it deserves.”

Your heart stopped.

“If you think it’s okay to attack my girlfriend for existing, for loving me, for not meeting some standard you made up in your head—then you can go ahead and unfollow me right now.”

You froze.

“She’s brilliant. And kind. And stronger than anyone I know. She’s been dealing with so much of your bullshit while still showing up every day, still taking care of me, still making me laugh even when she’s hurting. And if you can’t respect her, then you don’t respect me.”

He paused. Let the silence hang like a gavel.

“I don’t care if I lose followers. I care if I lose her.”

Then he ended the stream.

Your phone blew up. DMs of love. Comments from strangers. Messages from co-stars who hadn’t texted in months. Your name trending—for the right reason, this time.

But none of it mattered.

What mattered was Lewis. Who came into the room ten minutes later, unsure if he’d overstepped, scared he’d made it worse.

And you? You ran into his arms like you hadn’t already collapsed there a thousand times before.

You buried your face in his chest and whispered, “Thank you.”

He kissed your temple. “Always.”

The audition wasn’t even supposed to happen.

Your agent called last minute. Some massive director was looking to cast the lead in a dark psychological drama—“female-led, intense, emotionally layered.” The kind of role people gave awards for.

The kind of role no one thought of you for.

You almost didn’t go.

But Lewis sat you down that morning, cupped your face in his hands, and said, “This is yours. Whether they see it or not, you show them.”

So you went.

No makeup. Just messy hair, a threadbare sweater, and the kind of performance that burned like salt in an open wound.

They didn’t even finish the auditions.

You got a call two hours later.

“You booked it,” your agent said, stunned. “They’re not even seeing anyone else.”

The press rollout was immediate. It was the most buzz you’d had since Top Gun, and even then, you’d barely been a footnote. This was different.

You weren’t Lewis’s girlfriend this time.

You weren’t the girl from the background.

You were the headline.

“Breakout Star Lands Role in Cannes-Contending Thriller”

“Underdog No More: Her Rise Is Our Revenge”

“Internet Favorite to Industry Force—She’s Just Getting Started”

Your name trended. But this time, there was no pit in your stomach. No acid in your throat. The hate still existed, sure—it always would—but it was drowned out by something bigger now.

Respect.

You were finally being seen.

Lewis surprised you with champagne and takeout the night the news dropped. You walked in to find candles, confetti, and a massive “YOU DID IT” banner sloppily taped to the ceiling. It was crooked. The tape peeled on one side. You cried anyway.

He grabbed your face and kissed you so hard your knees went weak.

“You knew this would happen,” you whispered.

He grinned. “No. I hoped. But you made it happen.”

You laughed into his neck, your fingers curling into his hoodie like you were anchoring yourself to the moment. Because for once, you weren’t drowning.

You were floating.

The filming process was brutal—in the best way.

Sixteen-hour days. Crying scenes that left your throat raw. Close-ups where your only job was to break. And you did. Over and over again. In front of cameras. In front of strangers.

You gave everything.

And people noticed.

The director—usually stone-faced and impossible to impress—started calling you “The Hurricane.” Not because you were chaotic, but because you destroyed expectations. Wiped the floor with them.

Critics got early footage and lost their minds.

“Where has she been hiding?”

“A performance that breaks you and rebuilds you in the same breath.”

“She carries the entire film on her back—and doesn’t flinch once.”

Even your old castmates reached out. The ones who’d forgotten your name at wrap parties. The ones who’d watched your rise without clapping. Suddenly, they remembered.

“I always knew you had it in you,” one texted.

You didn’t respond. But you screenshotted it. Just to remember how far you’d come.

Awards buzz came faster than you expected.

There were whispers. Rumors. One anonymous source told Variety, “She’s not just a contender—she’s the frontrunner.”

You got invited to every premiere. Every party. Designers who once ignored your stylist now begged to dress you. And you? You walked the carpets with Lewis on your arm, head high, smiling like a woman who’d been broken, stitched herself back together, and still managed to glow.

He was so proud.

He told you every day. In the quiet. In the chaos. In bed at 3 a.m. when you couldn’t sleep because the world finally liked you and somehow that scared you even more.

“Don’t let them tell you who you are,” he said, tracing circles on your back. “You’ve always been this. Even when they couldn’t see it.”

You turned toward him, eyes full, voice soft. “Thank you for waiting for them to catch up.”

He kissed you like an answer.

Then came the premiere.

Red carpet. Paparazzi. Flashbulbs so bright you could barely see.

You wore custom Chanel. Something sharp and soft all at once. Like you. Lewis stood beside you, dapper and wide-eyed like he’d just met you for the first time and couldn’t believe his luck.

The interviewers swarmed.

“Is it surreal seeing her success after everything she’s been through?” one asked Lewis.

He smiled—proud and unbothered. “She’s always been this good. The rest of you were just slow.”

You laughed. He winked.

Another reporter turned to you.

“What would you say to the people who doubted you?”

You paused. Let the camera linger. Let the world lean in.

“I’d say thank you,” you said. “Because it forced me to believe in myself louder than they disbelieved. And now—”

You looked at Lewis. Then back at the camera. “Now I get to prove them wrong by just existing.”

The internet exploded.

The clip went viral within an hour. Your follower count doubled. Fans made edits of you, side by side with scenes from Top Gun, then your new film, then candids of you and Lewis looking like the literal blueprint for “power couple energy.”

Your DMs flooded.

Not just with praise.

With apologies.

From strangers who’d left hate comments.

From girls who’d once written Twitter threads about how “mid” you were.

From influencers who now called you an “inspiration.”

You didn’t respond to any of them.

Because you didn’t need to.

You had nothing to prove anymore.

That night, back at your place, you kicked off your heels and collapsed into the couch. Lewis brought you a glass of wine and sat beside you like he always had. Not as your fan. Not as your shadow. But as your home.

“You did it,” he whispered.

You looked over at him. Exhausted. Radiant. Changed.

“We did.”

He smiled.

You set the wine down and crawled into his lap, arms around his neck.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

You leaned your forehead against his. “Thank you for never treating me like I was hard to love.”

He exhaled. Shaky. Like he’d been holding that breath for months.

“You were the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he said. “Loving you.”

And maybe it wasn’t loud. Maybe it wasn’t cinematic or sparkly or viral.

But in that moment—pressed against him, wrapped in his hoodie, laughter tangled between kisses—it was everything.

You weren’t too much anymore.

You were just enough.

[superhusbands4ever]

I have a high school teacher that I psychologically tortured with pop-tarts so badly that, according to my little sister, he still had a Pavlovian response to hearing a pop-tart wrapper 4 years later.

When I was in high school I ate a pop-tart every day for breakfast because I was young, lazy, and had a much better metabolism than I do now. I would usually eat it in first period before the bell or in my car on the way to school.

After the tardy bell in first period, one of the administrators would do the announcements for the day. The woman who did them spoke sooooooooo slowly and would often forget things, so she would spend 5 minutes saying 4 sentences, finish, and then 45 seconds pick up the intercom and go “one more thing!”

This. Drove. My. Teacher. Nuts. He would always go to start the class, get cut off, and then try it again, only for it to happen a second time.

Around this time, I got an idea.

Instead of eating my pop-tart before the bell, I would leave it on my desk until after announcements were over. Then, after he had been interrupted a couple times by announcements and could finally start class, I’d pick up my pop-tart and open it as obnoxiously as possible. For anyone who doesn’t know, pop-tarts are in a foil wrapper that sounds as loud as fucking Krakatoa when you’re trying to open it quietly. Imagine what it sounds like when you’re trying to open it while making as much noise as possible. So my teacher would start to talk, I would rattle my little wrapper, he would pause and stare. I’d stare back. He would talk. I would keep eating. Pause and stare. Rinse. Repeat. Imagine you’re trying to teach a class to a bunch of obnoxious 16 year olds, you have to waste the first 10 minutes of every day listening to some old lady ramble like that sloth from Zootopia before you can start teaching, interrupted CONSTANTLY, and then one of your students decides “I’m about to ruin this man’s whole career.” I his drove this man ABSOLUTELY INSANE. He would glare at me and my pop-tart every time I walked in. I ate a pop-tart for breakfast every day. This happened every day, Monday to Friday, for 5 months.

At the end of my senior year (a year after my semester of tormenting pop-tart teacher), I was taking an IB exam. Since only certain students took IB classes, we had to go to some random classroom first thing in the morning with a randomly assigned proctor so that the rest of the school could continue finals as normal. You can probably see where this is going.

Pop-tart teacher walked into the classroom without even looking at us. Just went straight to the board and started writing his name, the class the exam was for, what time it would start, etc… and I had a pop-tart for breakfast every morning.

As quietly as I could, I pulled my pop-tart out of my backpack, and started opening it. Dude literally froze. Hand mid sentence writing on the board. I froze. Waited. He didn’t move. I pulled the pop-tart wrapper open.

Pop-tart teacher literally screamed, “OH, COME ON” like something out of a goddamn movie while spinning around on his heel. Stared at me in disbelief. I stared back. Blank faced. Took a bite of my pop-tart. The late bell rang and sloth lady started announcements. I’ve never seen a teacher look more defeated walking to his desk in my life.

Anyway, 4 years later my sister has a class with him, and she told me that one day someone opened a pop-tart in class and he literally froze and had to take a deep breath before he could continue. My legacy lingers.

does everyone have a teacher that they still have beef with/ hold a grudge against today??

[pellowinksx]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲-𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝟏 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

ah yes, the final stage of law of assumption. manifesting small things, challenges, until you're sick of everything and just want everything you've dreamed of. well- that's me. I manifested my dream life 1 year ago today, which is exactly why I'm making this post! its like my anniversary.

How I did it: I understood that the law of assumption literally is instant and the 3d does not matter. right when you claim it- its yours. So I shut up and decided I'm living my dream life. My aff was "I'm living my dream life, I'm just letting it play out." it was so good for me to perceive it this way because not only am I focused on the end, it helps me not try and try to convince myself in the 3d- rather knowing its done and everything is falling into place. I persisted with that aff, and slowly but surely…things came into place. its like thing and thing again happened, I kept getting crumbs from the 3d- (people I scripted in my dream life, random money, random appearance changes, changes in my family) I kept going until I finally had everything. in short I knew the 3d would change and I narrated how it'll end.

the old story: I grew up in Virginia and was born into a family with 5 kids. We lived in America for 10 years before my father decided he wanted to move to turkey-istanbul. that drained all of our money and we lived in a small apartment with 4 bedrooms. (remember, there's 7 of us) so we lived in turkey for 2 years. my dad kept getting and losing jobs, until he decided we should move to dubai. that made our lives even worse, dubai is SUCH an expensive country. we then lived in a TWO bedroom apartment with all 7 of us. my brother had to sleep in a fucking closet and I shared a room with my 23 year old sister. oh and- my dad quit his job and tried to make us work for his business. obviously it wasn't a stable income so we had ended up moving back to America because he landed a government job. We lived in my grandmas house and my dad ended up getting fired from his job 2 weeks after landing it 💀💀 so we were in America, in our grandmas house with 3 bedrooms ( my siblings had to sleep in the living room). My life fucking sucked. I hated and resented my dad, and my sister felt the same way. She was a severely mentally ill person and it jacked her up even more all the times our father had made us go broke and live in a different country. she was 23 and had enough, she had a whole life ahead of her, didn't get to go to college because we kept moving. So she left- she got herself a job and left our grandmas house at like 2 am without saying a word. Our parents found out and my dad was so furious and hurt, there's a lot of context I wont go over. what she did was a little wrong according to our family, but honestly? I don't blame her. I was sick of it by then- I knew about manifesting way back when we first moved to dubai. So I was sick of it. I wrote a whole 200+ page script, writing every single revised detail of my life. from a bunch of snacks in the fridge to my dad fucking closing his mouth when he eats, ALL OF IT. I was sick and tired of having a dirty and poor father who ruined my life and made me fix it. So I did what I said I did back in the first paragraph, and I manifested everything on the script.

New story (my life now): I live in Dubai again, I have a completely different dad (yes, I just deleted my old story dad basically), My parents are multi-millionaires who own very successful businesses. (the very ones my dad forced me to work for when I was only 13) I live in a super big house with my dream bedroom, I go to a rich private school and I have so many friends. I changed my eye color, bone structure, and height. I live like a spoiled rich daughter from a 2000s romcom. I attended the Super Bowl this year and was able to do so many things. My mom is the wife she had deserved to be, (she was basically the man of the house. My dad was like a toddler, he would ruin things and scream at us so my mom had ended up stepping up because of it) and I have everything I could have asked for and more. After revising my dream life the old story feels like a bad dream. Even when I was typing it, it just felt like I was telling you guys a weird story and not my actual life that I had to experience for 15 years. Anyway, 6/9/2024 was the best day of my life. It was the day I finally got to be a kid, not stress over finances as a kid, and witness everything I had never imagined would've came true.

You can do it. You can manifest everything. and it is much simpler than you think

creds to @itsrlymine @scentedpeachlandcreator and @hrrtshape for helping me see light to achieve this dream. I love you all 💗💗

(edit: I FUCKING CALLED DUBAI A COUNTRY. I meant the uae is an expensive country and the area of UAE was dubai)

++ I created this blog because so many of you were going through even worse situations as me. I couldn't bear knowing it was so easy to get yourself out of struggle and just say nothing. I literally made my blog the same weekend I manifested my dream life, and now there's 600 of you taking my advice 🩷

[nosferatuix]

Are you referring to jjktwt losing its goddamn mind over pictures of a teenage girl having fun with her friends, because I also hated that discourse. Mappa is showing these beautiful illustrations of these kids' youth and innocence that was brutally stripped away from them and a bunch of fools are whining because their ship enjoyed spending time with other people

mainly, yeah. one day gjhm folks edit shoko out from the graduation picture and stsg folks join forces with shoko lovers to attack them so gjhm people lose their minds, the next day stsg people start freaking out because how dare anyone imply that suguru felt close to shoko because he tends to lean towards her in some of these pictures. and don't even get me started on Those people that think mappa adding these pictures somehow takes away from the uniqueness and the severity of stsg's bond – because apparently 15 year old nanami should hate a 16 year old gojo whom he's known for only a couple of months at this point and should not laugh at his antics because it's "out-of-character" for him, or how hidden inventory has always been about a duo and mappa is forcing a trio into this as if shoko literally didn't say she was there too in the damn manga lmao. like baby you need to calm down for a sec, nobody can deny or try to dim down the intensity of stsg's relationship when there's all this canon information about them and almost everything happens in jjk because of two of them in the first place – especially not people who like sashisu, since, you know, stsg are 2/3 of sashisu lmao.

i especially loved these pics because they were simple but held so much emotion, felt very high-school-esque in a realistic way, and they did a damn good job at showing how much of a tragedy suguru's descent into insanity was by showing what kind of a person he was before everything went to shit. he was a good kid who loved his friends, who was loved so much by them in return, but it just wasn't enough, because the jujutsu society snuffed the life out of him and ruined all of their blue spring. it explains so much about the rest of these characters too, intensifies the effect of yaga's regrets, makes shoko's reactions in shibuya a lot more explicable, builds onto nanami and satoru's characters a lot more – ugh, i'm rambling, sorry. i just don't understand how on earth you could look at these materials and find something to complain about

but then again, jjktwt has been through some insane discourse ever since i joined it (and oh my god don't even get me started on the neverending t/b discourse that stemmed again from suguru carrying satoru in that one pic... they're SIXTEEN YEARS OLD what the hell is wrong with these guys) and it's so easy to get a headache, just scrolling through the timeline for 5 minutes is enough to see a braindead take

[maegalkarven]

Good thing Levi and Gortash become immortals and live for a long ass time, bc with the way these two behave, I have a feeling it would take them at least a century to actually mature enough to have a normal in-depth conversation.

[raikirikiri]

i am just so enamored by kakashi's ninken pack. like he really just has 8 dogs that he dresses up. i think that little part tells us so much about kakashi's character. he's caring and he likes cute things. he's not just a battle hardened veteran shinobi, he has puppies too!!! and how did he meet them? are they inherited? is there like a choosing process? did sakumo put baby kakashi in front of three dogs and kakashi toddled over to pakkun? were the pack a pack before kakashi? there's just so many questions i have about the pack. kakashi's summons being 8 doggies is just sooooooooo HMMM he's perfect. his doggies are perfect. one of them even wears sunglasses. why? who's to say! maybe akino is blind, maybe he just wants to look cool!

also the fact that they wear konoha headbands? why? akamaru doesn't and he's a ninken. is it because they're a summons? but so is gamabunta and gamakichi and katsuyu but they don't wear headbands. is there a special rule about it? did kakashi just put them on his puppies? is he so far deep in konoha shinobi propoganda that even his puppies must be in uniform? or did he think it, like the henohenomoheji capes, looked cute. there's so many ways to think about it.

i love the ninken. kakashi and his 8 doggies. i wish we saw more of them

[leblogreblog]

You know how's there been that post about Bruce knowing that Shazam is actually a kid and treating him as such while confusing everyone around because why Batman is so soft for this 30-something dude for no reason?

I want to see the same with Jason as Red Hood with this One Goon (ekhm-Bill-ekhm) that for some reason Knows with everyone confused why he gets to call their boss kid and this one time he catched him drinking booze he swipped it out his hand and their boss Red Hood, the same that very publicly cut off heads of several mafia leaders heads, only potuted and said he's no fun???

[thou-babbling-brook]

Why was he more excited about that damn guillotine gun than anything else in that dlc LMFAO

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 201

So, Danny is definitely not running from a cop right now. 

He’s also not been de-aged to like, eight years old or something and is running from said cop after hitting him in the kneecaps after he got caught maybe stealing a tire. Jazz- currently like twelve- would be so disappointed if that was the case after all, ha… 

Oh Ancients both Jordan and Ellie (currently turned mini like he was) will laugh at him if he got caught and needed to be bailed out! He just needed a couple of tires to sell dangit! And no one would care if he stole a cop’s tires, this place’s police were all corrupt anyway if word on the street was to go by! 

Go away, he was just trying to get money for food dangit! 

[rookanisstuff]

Ooh it’s got a little kick to it 😦

[kawareo]

As a fan of both Invincible and Transformers, I need to say that Cybertronians would wipe the floor with the Viltrumite empire in like. A week.

Now don't get me wrong, a 1v1? Viltrumite could break apart a Cybertronian like a bug. But an actual, planet-sized war?

Viltrumites could not infiltrate an inorganic planet the way they can with Earth and similar. Cybertron is canonically not involved in other planets' alliances because theyve just been at war with eachother for millions of years and no organics want any part in that. So, the only strategy Viltrum would have, is to attack head on (and ngl that's been most of their strategies so far anyway. Punching.).

So they attack, they absolutely win the first battle easily, Autobots and Deceptions probably still refuse to work together to face a new threat in most universes (no way would Megs do that, he'd claim they can deal with that themselves). Optimus would offer a peace meeting but when Viltrumites would demand a surrender, that would get blown out of the water, too, and now it's all in.

All I'm going to say is that Cybertronians are way smarter than the smartest Viltrumite. Shockwave himself would whip out a plague that would target their specie specifically in like a week, dude does way worse on his average work day! Soundwave's most basic attack would knock a Viltrumite off of the sky (hell, even his cassettes would do that). At one point a Viltrumite would fly straight through someone's spark and that thing would explode so hard it'd wipe out anyone nearby.

All I'm saying is that the moment Cybertron is able to take a breath and make a plan, Viltrumites are done for. These bots have been fighting eachother for control of their planet for five million years, you really think they'd just surrender it over? To what, some guys that can punch really hard and are slightly tougher than your average organic?

So anyway my headcanon is that Cybertron exists in Invincible universe but literally noone wants to risk getting in contact with them. Viltrum included and they claim it's because they have nothing to gain from an inorganic specie.

[phier]

Finished Plague Tale: Innocence yesterday....

[stiffyck]

I love bad art so much. I love when people just scribble and do random brush strokes and I love seeing artists just not care if the end result looks pleasing or good. I love when people do art just because it's fun.

[hauntingmiser]

Why just imagine someone scolding maruki for doing the medical malpractice he done and getting really mad about it but instead of basically bitch slap him, they just straight up send maruki to a corner with a stool chair and he have to put on a hat that says dumb printed on it.

*maruki saddened and trying to do a puppy dog face to try and get his ass out of trouble*

Someone : DON'T YOU GIVE ME THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES YOUNG MAN!!!!

maruki : :(

[introspectivememories]

tiktok hunger games fans are like the fucking worst. half of them are so desperate to let people know that there's a Message to the book and that they understood the Morals and Themes and Messages of the book that cant look past book canon or have some fun and the other half is making ocs and slapping katniss and peeta's name on them while making the most outlandish conspiracy theories. you cant fucking do anything on there