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instagram is wild bcs WHO ARE THESE PPL FOLLOWING ME. WHAT.
#i thought instagram was like. you only talk to ppl yk irl. like. actual social media#not be a freak on the internet#(like tumblr dot com)#but its so wild like. this guy does car photography. hes mutuals with 4 of my cousins and 3 of my friends.i guarantee you they dont know him#anyways ty to my pr team (cousins) who are out here coordinating this insta page like their life depends on it â¤ď¸#AND TO MY FRIENDS WHO HAVE POSTED THE MOST HEINOUS PICTURES OF ME...watch tf out
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A Royal Surprise
Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader
Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England ⌠oops?
One of Red Bull Racingâs PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. Itâs a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslieâs eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.
âThe balance felt off in turn three during the sim,â Max says, leaning back in his chair. âWe might need to adjust the downforce.â
Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.
But then, Max casually adds, âOh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriendâs coming to watch the race.â
Leslieâs pen stills. Thereâs something in Maxâs tone that makes her look up sharply.
âGirlfriend?â Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. âI didnât know you were seeing anyone seriously.â
Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. âYeah, itâs been a few months now. Weâve been keeping it quiet.â
Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. âAnyone we know?â She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.
Maxâs grin widens. âYou could say that. Itâs Y/N.â
The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. âIâm sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...â
âThe Princess of Wales, yeah,â Max confirms, as if heâs just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.
Leslieâs notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence thatâs fallen over the room.
âMax,â Christian says slowly, âare you telling us that youâre dating the future Queen of England?â
Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone whoâs just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. âThatâs right.â
Leslieâs mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. âI need to make some calls,â she says weakly.
But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. âWait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?â
âAbout six months,â Max replies. âWe met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.â
Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. âSix months,â she mutters. âYouâve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and weâre just finding out now?â
Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. âWe wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.â
Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. âMax,â she says, trying to keep her voice steady, âdo you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...â
âItâs all been taken care of,â Max assures her. âThe palace has been very discreet.â
Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. âThe palace. Of course. Because now weâre dealing with actual palaces.â
Christian clears his throat. âRight. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think weâre going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?â
Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.
As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. âLeslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.â
Leslie takes a deep breath. âMax, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?â
Max chuckles. âSorry about that. If it helps, youâre handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.â
âOh God,â Leslie groans. âIâm going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, arenât I?â
âTheyâre actually pretty cool,â Max says. âA bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.â
Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. âI canât believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?â
For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated âchanceâ meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.
âAnd youâre sure about this?â Leslie asks finally. âDating her ... itâs not exactly going to be easy for you.â
Maxâs expression softens. âI know. But sheâs worth it. Weâre worth it.â
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It canât be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.
âAlright,â she sighs. âIâll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?â
âWhatâs that?â
âNo more bombshells, okay? My heart canât take it.â
Max grins. âWell, actually ...â
Leslieâs eyes widen in alarm. âWhat? What is it now?â
âHer father ... heâs a big F1 fan. Heâs been hinting that heâd like to attend a race.â
The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Maxâs concerned voice saying, âLeslie? Leslie, are you okay?â
When Leslie comes to, sheâs lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.
âOh good, youâre awake,â Christian says, relief evident in his voice. âYou gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.â
Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. âPlease tell me I dreamed all of that,â she mutters.
Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. âSorry, itâs all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?â
Leslie waves him off. âNo, no, Iâm fine. Just ... processing.â She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. âOkay. Letâs take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.â
Christian nods. âGood idea. What are you thinking?â
Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. âWe need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... âRed Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.ââ
Max frowns. âIsnât that a bit ... formal?â
Leslie sighs. âMax, youâre dating the future Queen of England. Everythingâs going to be a bit formal from now on.â
âShe hates that, you know,â Max says softly. âAll the formality. Itâs why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.â
Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Maxâs voice. âYou really care about her, donât you?â
Max nods. âMore than Iâve ever cared about anyone. Sheâs ... sheâs amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When Iâm with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. Sheâs just ... her.â
Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. âThatâs all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.â
Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. âWeâll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.â
âHey,â Max says, placing a hand on Leslieâs shoulder. âWeâll figure it out. Youâre the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, itâs you.â
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. âThanks. I appreciate that. Now, letâs get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.â
As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie canât help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Maxâs face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger â and more romantic â than fiction.
âOh, and Leslie?â Max adds as theyâre wrapping up. âAbout the King wanting to attend a race ...â
Leslie holds up a hand. âOne crisis at a time, Max. Letâs get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?â
Max grins. âFair enough. But just so you know, heâs particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be âjolly good funâ to present the trophies.â
Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. âMax, I swear, if youâre joking ...â
âWould I joke about something like this?â Max asks innocently.
Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. âIâm going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.â
Christian chuckles. âI think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. Itâs going to be an interesting ride.â
As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind thatâs about to engulf them all, she canât help but smile slightly. Itâs going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Maxâs eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.
After all, who doesnât love a good fairy tale?
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DP x DC idea:
Paulina Sanchez becomes the Wayne family's new PR manager. She works hand-in-hand with Alfred and Tim's secretary (maybe another Amity Parker?) to coordinate meetings with the press and keeps a lid on the family's more unique civilian adventures.
Everything is going well until she suddenly comes onto the comm system late at night, startling Nightwing so badly that he almost misses his next flip.
"Robin, don't forget to assist the civilian. They're recording the fight and will probably post it on their Instagram later."
"Batman, turn to the left a little bit. The street lamp is casting an ugly shadow; you need to seem more mysterious."
"Red Hood, don't forget to return the heads of the gang leaders in a canvas bag this time, not polyester. It'll add to the ambiance of the situation."
Little snippets like these filled their ears each and every night, despite all surveillance indicating that Miss Sanchez was home asleep in her bed. Was someone copying the manager's voice on purpose? Why couldn't they trace where the extra comm signal was coming from? Was Paulina Sanchez a spy sent to rattle their resolve? What was going on???
It was a lot more innocent than the paranoid-stricken Waynes thought. Paulina was simply doing her job according to Amity Park's logic.
Most people didn't have some weird lair in their basement, usually filled with world-ending secrets. But 9/10 Amity Parkers did, so it was a cinch to find the entrance to the Batcave on her first day. And when Paulina signed on as a manager, she didn't realize that the job did not extend to the family's nightlife. Nor did she realize that no one else knew who the Batfamily were since Amity Parkers could clock secret identities in an instant. (Thanks for that wish, Wes.)
So while the Waynes are freaking out about the breach in their system, Paulina is mentally patting herself on the back for being so good at her job. She even utilized her hard-earned sneaking-out and liminal skills to create a fake body double to confuse any aggressive intruders that crept into her apartment while she was gone. And honestly, the Bats have never had such a positive online reputation! Getting Tucker to encrypt her secondary social medias was the right call. Now she can post about her bosses without anything being traced back to her.
Paulina is a little peeved about her overtime pay not showing up on her paychecks, however. Maybe she'll bring that up to Mr. Wayne the next time she sees him.
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reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who âaccidentallyâ slips up and mentions it
iâm assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct đ¤đźđ¤đź
Š arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
crush | cl16
you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way heâd always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.
not that he had much choice, considering youâd been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.
it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.
wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.
which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography⌠the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when youâre given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.
except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.
thatâs how your suspicions had startedâ when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt âi have to goâ in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still donât.
âgood morning, querida,â carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charlesâ brows furrow for a split second.
âgood morning,â you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whateverâs on his phone. âthereâs a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.â
you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.
youâve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didnât want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.
âokay, i think thatâs all i have forââ youâre not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty âthanksâ and rushing out the door.
âyouâd think he wouldâve caved and told you by now,â carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.
âtold me what?â
âyou know,â carlos begins, rising from his seat, âthat heâs madly in love with you.â
âwhat?!â you exclaim.
âoh, dear,â he continues dryly. âdid i say that out loud?â
âcarlos sainz, so help meââ
âyouâll have to excuse me, i donât want to be late to the media pen,â he interrupts, making to leave as well. âi suggest confronting him, thatâs probably the only way to get him to talk.â
your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as heâs leaving his driver room.
âis it true? do youââ you want to say love me, but the words just wonât come out. they feel too intimate. âdo you have feelings for me, charles?â
he opens his mouth, but you donât give him the chance to respond. âyou wonât look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.â
âi donât hate you,â he says immediately. ânot at allâ why donât you come in so we can talk? i donât want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.â
fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.
âwho told you?â he asks.
âcarlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.â
âclassic carlos,â charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.
âis it true?â you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.
he looks at you. âwhat if it was?â
âcharlesââ
he interrupts you now. âi canât look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just havenât been the same since⌠since papa.â
you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.
âand eventually i just couldnât talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out⌠like it is right now,â he smiles shyly.
you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.
âanyway, i like you. a lot.â he declares, taking on a confident tone. âiâve had a crush on you for a while, and iâm sorry that it manifested as something else. i donât expect you to forgive me.â
âmaybeâŚâ you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. âmaybe you could take me out.â
he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. âi think i can make that happen.â
âgood. iâll be waiting for your call.â you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.
the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it wonât be the last time you see him that way.
word count: 1,041
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note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops itâs fully my fault
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dividers by @/saradika
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#aries answers#anon <3#request#blurb#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fluff#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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HEART OF A WOMAN. we ainât spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.
01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.
ju speaks. whoâs catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. iâm having so much fun writing them already and yes, mayaâs gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.
present day, may, 2025.
los angeles still doesnât feel real.
itâs like a whole new game out here, and iâve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wildâiâd dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. laâs been something else too, this city thatâs both too big and somehow feels small once youâre in it. iâve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesnât quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.
the teamâs been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team⌠every single one of them welcomed me like iâve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like⌠i donât know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyardâs all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.
mayaâs been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. sheâs one of our coordinatorsâsmart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which sheâs mentioned just enough times that i know sheâs proud of it. thereâs something good about her. yeah, sheâs good. she knows how to handle herself, thatâs for sure.
nailea hasnât been around. i thought iâd see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just⌠run into her somewhere. i mean, iâm sure she wouldnât quit her job because of me. sheâs been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we havenât really talked since before the draftâif thatâs what youâd call it. itâs probably for the best. i donât think she really wants to talk anyway.
iâm mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.
raeâs all animated, talking about how she wonât step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. iâm leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my peripheryâsomeone, actually.
naileaâs here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. iâm sure cam would kill her if she didnât, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.
i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. ânai! câmere!â she calls her over, completely missing how iâm trying not to look too invested.
i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. thereâs no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like iâm nothing. it hurts more than iâd ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i donât exactly have the right to expect anything else.
her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but raeâs insistence doesnât really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though iâm sure it isnât for me, before she slowly waltzes over.
my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until sheâs almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i donât question itâi do. a little bit.
ânai handles a good chunk of our pr. sheâs doing game day operations this year too,â rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.
i donât know why it stings that sheâs doing good without me.
âwe know eachââ i begin.
âwe went to high school toââ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.
âpaige and i went to high school together.â she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?
raeâs grin grows wider, and sheâs so excited about it i can barely make out her words. âsheâs so great, and basically our backbone now,â she says, nudging naileaâs shoulder. âif it werenât for her, iâd be late to half my interviews, right?â she laughs, a little too loud.
âguess you owe her then,â i say simply, forcing a grin. naiâs eyes flash to mine, but theyâre off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.
âand she makes my job way easier.â mayaâs fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like sheâs staking a claim. âyou ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, sheâs your girl,â she adds, smiling at nai, though thereâs some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough iâm assuming.
naiâs eyes drop to mayaâs hand, just a quick glance, but itâs enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way thatâs more telling than words. like sheâs already put it all together, and she doesnât need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging mayaâs hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if iâm just adjusting my posture.
nai doesnât react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.
she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. âi think paige has got it handled.â
i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. âcould always use the backup.â
naiâs eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like sheâs been waiting for an opening. âbackup?â she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. âthought you were more into⌠side options than backups, paige.â
itâs subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. âaight,â i say, swallowing down any reaction, âi set myself up for that.â
maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldnât hit as hard as it does. itâs almost like sheâs proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i canât contain my own smile.
rickea jumps in then, catching the vibeâor maybe just rescuing me. âanyway!â she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending iâm invested, though every part of me is still reeling from naiâs words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.
but maybe thatâs what she wants me to think.
the backyardâs emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, itâs nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.
sheâs focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.
âdidnât take you for the clean up crew,â she mumbles, a little low that i almost donât hear it over the running water.
i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. âfigured i owed cam for putting this together,â i say, eyes still fixed on her. ânothinâ like a little gratitude, right?â
she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. âcamâs got enough gratitude coming her way,â she murmurs, and i canât really read the implication. âshe doesnât need more from you.â
the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like iâm stuck.
âwell,â i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, âmaybe iâm here because i wanted to check in. see how youâre doing.â
her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. âiâm good, paige,â she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. ânever been better, actually.â
âgreat,â i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. âthen you wonât mind the company.â
she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. âcompany?â she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, âi think iâve had enough of yours for a lifetime.â
i wiggle my eyebrows at her. âaw, donât be like that, nai.â i canât help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. âwhereâd you pick up all this lilâ attitude at?â i manage to get a little closer with each word until iâm rounding the island. she knows iâm there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.
she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. âlife has a way of teaching you things. people, too.â she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like iâm not right in her space.
âoh, so now iâm a life lesson?â i murmur, stepping so that iâm almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. âbut youâre still here. helpinâ clean up my party.â
she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. âiâm here for cam.â
âcam, huh?â i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. âand what about me?â
she laughs, a little breathless, and itâs the first real sign of her softening. iâll take whatever i can get. âyouâre somethinâ else. you know that?â
of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. âgood somethinâ or bad somethinâ?â i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.
âdepends on the day,â she replies simply, and i can tell sheâs trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.
i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. âthat a challenge?â i lick my lips. âyou know i love a good challenge.â
she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. âdonât think youâre up for this one, bueckers.â
âoh, iâm up for it,â i counter, following her every move. âin fact, i thrive on it.â iâve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i canât help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she mustâve switched out some old with some new.
âmhm?â she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like iâve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.
âyeah,â i whisper, testing the waters. âand iâm pretty good at winning.â
i can see the shift in her expressionâthe way her breath hitches just a bit. âand what do you think youâre gonna win?â itâs like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.
i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. âyou know what i want,â i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. âi think you know exactly what i want.â
thereâs a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. âno.â she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesnât move an inch.
i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. âjust one.â i practically beg.
she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and iâm afraid it isnât enough for satisfaction. sheâs back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, itâs like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.
my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that iâd almost convinced myself iâd forgotten. she doesnât pull awayâinstead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.
my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.
she tastes like everything iâve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. iâm rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like iâm scared sheâll slip away if i let go.
but just as iâm getting lost in her, weâre interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.
my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.
âpaige was just leaving.â
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers uconn#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x fem#lgbtq fanfiction#lgbtqia#wlw fanfic#wlw fiction#wlw smut#wlw blog#wlw yearning#paige bueckers blog
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wait and see â´ď¸ cl16
genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear
word count: 2.5k
The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.
auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.
Lando takes a seat. âIs this the thingy forâŚ? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?â
âJust describe the two of them.â
âEasy. She was always pissing him off.â He rubs his chin, lost in thought. âBut⌠in a good way?â
â
âI told you a hundred times I didnât want this to be the soundbite you published.â Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. âA hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?â
You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. âLook. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.â
He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on IĂąaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. âThis was not a good idea!â He repeats, the same sentiment heâs been telling you in the half-hour heâs known of this videoâs publicity.
âBut it happened.â You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, whoâs awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. âIâm busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrariâs dick all the time.â
Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesnât admit itâto you, to Carlos, to anyoneâbut the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesnât admit it because it means admitting youâre right, and God if thatâs the last thing heâll ever do.
â
âThey were always butting heads,â George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. âAlways fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed onâtheyâd be disagreeing.â
â
It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of colorâa blue and a purpleâand addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.
âBlue suits green better.â You wave the blue in his face. âYouâre busy thinking of red all the time so you donât understand color theory.â
âItâs not about coordination! Itâs about creating a highlight!â He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. âHighlight!â
âOh, bullshit! Blue!â
âPurple!â
âAre you crazy?!â
Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isnât even theirs.
An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, âBridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.â
âOh, no. They, uh, theyâre not together.â George clarifies quickly.
âTheyâre not?!â The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.
They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.
â
âWe have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand itâitâs in Spanish, obviouslyâbut I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the nextâŚâ Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.
â
Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You canât really grasp why, or how it startedâit might take ages if you do so much as tryâbut youâre content with letting things happen the way they do.
Or maybe youâre not. âYou ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!â
You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly donât care. And yeah, sure, heâs way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.
âIt happened one time.â He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.
âFuck you.â You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly youâre closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but itâs not enough. âYou have no idea how much that mattered to me.â
His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. âIf it really didâŚâ he says, inhaling, âyou wouldâve just ignored me.â And damn, heâs right.
Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argueâisnât that the same thing?
â
âThey have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,â Lewis offers. âSo put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.â
â
ââŚWe didnât agree on this script.â You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charlesâ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. âYou want your fans to hate you?â
âThe questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didnât.â
âYou didnât ask, to be clear. You demanded.â You click your tongue.
Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoeâs Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.
âI asked,â Charles insists stubbornly. âPlus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.â He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.
âJesus.â You reread the script. âFine. Iâll reword this and this.â
âAnd that.â He points, tapping the paper.
âOnly if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.â
âFine. Wait, that?â
âAre you serious? Itâs the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.â
âOkay, bossy.â
Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.
â
âYou know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.â Alex muses. âBut they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.â
â
Media is a tricky thing. Itâs either on your side, or it isnât.
And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially wellâyouâre media, for Christâs sakeâand youâve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.
Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. âWaitâI think theyâre talking,â he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.
âIs this the right thing to do?â Lilyâs voice comes through like static.
âI know itâs wrong,â Alex confesses. âButââ
âNo, I meant I canât hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.â
So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. âWillâs been all over you today.â
âYeah,â comes Charlesâ voice, tired if anything. âI, uh⌠I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.â
âNo, IâŚâ Thereâs heavy silence. âI think you did the right thing. You didnât get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that wouldâve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.â
You both laugh. âThanks,â he croaks.
âYou did great. Donât, um⌠donât let them tell you otherwise. Iâm proud of you.â
Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.
â
âHey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.â Daniel says firmly. âBut I also kept thinking⌠poor Charlotte.â
â
Youâre half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, youâre not sure at all. Your mindâs cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.
âIs⌠tequila⌠plant-based?â Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.
âDanny,â you say, tapping his shoulder. âAny plans once youâre out of the paddock next season?â
âAh,â he hums. âSelf-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.â
You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. âAnd a party again tomorrow!â Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. Youâre unfazed.
Danielâs gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesnât pull away. But youâre both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you canât usually stand each otherâs guts.
âIâll pass, mate, if it happens,â Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.
âYouâre no fun,â you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the otherâs, dark, lips almost touching as if youâve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)
âInvite Charlotte instead,â Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. âHow long, now? Three months?â
You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.
âOh. Weâre not doing so well, to be honest.â Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesnât ask why. He canât think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.
â
Seb takes some time to think about it. âThose two always fought. Everyone said that, didnât they? All the time, disagreeing.â He hums. âI could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviouslyâbut as a result, also literally.â
âElaborate?â
âWhen you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.â Seb smiles. âThat was them, I think.â
â
âItâs impossible to transcribe your interviews,â Will says to Charles. Itâs that hour on the paddock where everyoneâs waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is whatâs keeping them busy.
Youâre reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mickâs future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.
âWhat do you mean?â Charles asks.
âYouâre always sliding in and out of your three languages!â The Englishman laughs. âI have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And youâre always going I, I, I, or we, we, we⌠but hey, the fans dig it, innit?â
âI think I sound perfectly understandable.â Charles smiles. Youâre still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.
âLike, okay. Look at this.â Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. Itâs a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if heâs speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.
Weâwe had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I⌠I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And
Will closes it. âSebastian, can you tell me that said?â
He shrugs, amused. âSorry, Charles. I genuinely canât.â
âSee?!â Will makes a voila motion. âNobody understands this.â
âHe said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.â Youâre still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. âYou two just arenât listening.â
Charles doesnât take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.
â
Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. Heâs ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. âThose two are fucking soulmates.â
â
Itâs three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.
But your body still feels like itâs five in the evening, your brainâs stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks itâs nine in the morning, so youâre not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.
Youâre horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.
âAm I crazy?â He asks, breathless, like heâs been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.
âYouâre at my hotel room at three a.m., so⌠a bit.â You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. âCharles, whatâs going on?â
âI love you.â There it is. âIt sounds so stupid. But I love you. And itâs almostâI canât bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. Itâs always you. And I know, I know itâsâI know, with Charlotte, andâbut itâs true. I, I, IâI think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il sâagit dâamour... moi y compris.
âBut this was⌠I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much Iâand maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?â
He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.
âI love you, too,â you say, struck. Oh God.
âCan I kiss you, then?â
âItâs may,â you breathe. âMay I kiss you.â
âYou may,â he whispers.
âRight now?â
âAnytime.â
âSo now.â
âItâs now or next Tuesday,â he jokes.
âNow is⌠the best. Now would do.â
âNow would do.â So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.
â
âIs that all?â The interviewer asks Pierre. âJust⌠those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.â
âOh, yeah.â He gets up, straightens his tie. âDonât worry. Youâll hear the rest during my best man speech.â
Del amor al odio hay un paso â From love to hate, there is one step.
Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris â We are all fools in love... me included.
#f1#leclsrc2000#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc smut#f1 x reader
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Fernando Alonso (Aston Martin) - I Don't Wanna Live Forever
Requested: no
Swift Series
Warnings: age gap, cursing, forbidden love, cliffhanger
*he's fine asf in this gif*
Fernando sighed contently as he walked through the paddock, the all too familiar buzz of a new season on the horizon. The new season was about to begin, and with it came new challenges, new cars, and, as he had just been informed, a new assistant. His previous assistant had moved on, and Fernando was curious about the person who would now be helping him navigate the whirlwind of his career. He walked into the new hospitality, looking around at the slick interior design of the building. He looked over to see his PR manager stood up, waving towards him. He smiled, walking over towards him. "Alright Fernando, how's it going?" She asked as he hugged her. "Yeah, pretty good. Yourself?" She smiled. "I'm doing well. I actually wanted to introduce you to someone-" She paused, turning to the young woman stood behind her. "Fernando, meet Y/n. She'll be your new assistant."
Y/n extended a hand with a confident smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alonso. I'm excited to work with you." Fernando shook her hand, noting her firm grip and steady gaze. "Please, call me Fernando. And welcome to the team." Y/n nodded, mentally noting the informal tone. "Thank you, Fernando. I've already familiarized myself with your schedule and preferences. If there's anything specific you need or any adjustments, just let me know." Fernando was impressed. "I appreciate that. It's a demanding job, but I'm sure you'll handle it well."
As the days went by, Y/n quickly adapted to the fast-paced environment of Formula 1. She managed Fernando's schedule with precision, coordinated media engagements seamlessly, and ensured he had everything he needed before and after races. Her efficiency and calm demeanor under pressure did not go unnoticed by Fernando. One afternoon, during a break between practice sessions, Fernando found Y/n in the team lounge, engrossed in her laptop. "How are you finding everything so far?" He asked, sitting down across from her. Y/n looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "It's intense, but I love it. The energy, the speed, the team, it's all very exciting." Fernando smiled. "That's good to hear. It's important to have someone who enjoys the chaos as much as the rest of us."
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
While Fernando was no stranger to the hectic life of a racing driver, he found a peculiar comfort in the presence of his assistant, Y/n. She was efficient, calm under pressure, and always seemed to know exactly what he needed. Over time, Fernando had developed feelings for Y/n, but he kept them hidden, fearing it would complicate their professional relationship. Y/n, on the other hand, had admired Fernando since the day they started working together. His dedication, passion, and charisma made it hard not to fall for him. But, like Fernando, Y/n kept these feelings concealed, believing it was best to maintain their professional demeanor.
This particular day had been nothing short of exhausting with back-to-back media obligations. Interviews, photoshoots, and press conferences filled the schedule, leaving little time to breathe. Fernando signed the final cap and packed it off to the side. He looked out the window, the sun had set, and the team was packing up. "Finally." He sighed. "Y/n!" Fernando called out. Y/n peered in the door. "Done?" He nodded. "Perfect. You can leave them there, and I'll get them to marketing first thing tomorrow." She said walking towards him. His eyes wandered down her body. He stopped himself, feeling bad. "Stay back for a bit, would you? I think we both could use a drink."
"I can't. You have media day tomorrow, and I think a good nights sleep would do you best." Fernando sat back in the chair. "Come on. Just one." Surprised but curious, Y/n agreed. "Sure, Fernando. A drink sounds good." He smirked. "That didn't take too much convincing."
Fernando stood up and headed downstairs, grabbing a bottle of red wine and twk glasses before making his way back up to the office. "I hope you like wine." He chuckled. She sighed. "Not really, but it's a drink from the Fernando Alonso, so who can complain?" He closed the blinds, trying to block out the world, away from the prying eyes of fans and journalists. Fernando poured the glass and handed it to her, before taking his own. They sipped at their drinks, and for a while, they sat in comfortable silence, savouring the moment of peace. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" Y/n nodded. "Shoot."
"How did you end up in the world of Formula 1?" Fernando asked, genuinely interested. Y/n smiled, taking a sip of the drink. "It was a bit of a twist of fate, really. I always loved motorsports, and when the opportunity came up to work with a team, I took it. And here I am. I didn't think I'd be working for you, though." His brows furrowed. "How come?" She shrugged. "I always loved watching you growing up, so it just seems a bit surreal, I guess." He groaned. "What?" She chuckled. "You're making me sound old." He replied. "You're not that old."
"I am 43 years old. That's old." She eyed up his lips subtly, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. "I don't think so, but okay." Fernando nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/n's. "You're 25. You have no say in this."
As the night went on, the conversation flowed easily. They talked about their childhoods, their passions, and their dreams. The more they shared, the more they realized how much they had in common. "Sometimes, I wonder what life would be like if I hadn't decided to race." Fernando admitted, a rare moment of vulnerability. Y/n reached out, placing a hand on his. "I think you'd still be the same incredible person, just a little less stressed." Fernando's heart raced at the touch. "Yes, but I wouldn't have met all the people I have. We wouldn't have met." Y/n's breath caught. "You'd live without me." Fernando took a deep breath, his eyes locking with Y/n's. "I don't think I could." Y/n's heart swelled. "Fernando -" Fernando leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. Their eyes scanned each other, both wondering if they should move closer or simply walk away and pretend it hadn't happened.
Y/n's eyes fluttered shut as Fernando's lips met theirs in a tender kiss. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them in that moment. She set her glass to the side, her hand flying up to his face, pulling him in closer. He felt euphoric. She was everything he could have asked for and more. He deepened the kiss, pushing her back until she was laying on the couch. Her hands roamed under his Aston Martin shirt, trailing up his tone back. He loved it,every touch, every sound she made below him, he loved it all. That was, until Y/n came to her senses and pulled away. "Wait, stop!"
Fernando's heart sank as she pulled away. "We can't. I can't. It could ruin your career, and it could cost me my job. I've worked too hard for this job for it to be thrown away over a stupid kiss." His brows furrowed. "A stupid kiss?? Is that what you would call this?" She stood up, straightening her skirt out. "I say it as it is. It was a mistake, and it will remain that way. It has to." Fernando shook his head, his eyes pleading. "Y/n, listen. I like you, I like you a lot. I don't care about the risks. I care about you." Y/n looked at him, unsure. Unsure if he was telling the truth or if he was drunk. "I care about you too, but we have to be realistic. This-" She pointed between them both. "This could destroy everything we've worked for." Fernando took her hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. "I'm willing to do anything for you, Y/n. You're worth everything to me." She sighed, closing the door behind her and leaving the spaniard there, drunk, alone and pondering.
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Y/n lay in bed, the soft glow of the city lights seeping through the curtains and casting delicate patterns on the walls. Despite the late hour, sleep eluded her. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of the kiss she shared with Fernando earlier that evening. She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle yet passionate way he had held her. She sighed and turned onto her side, pulling the blankets tighter around her. But no matter how she tried, she couldnât shake the image of his face, the intensity in his eyes as they parted. Tossing and turning, she fought against the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.
Finally, unable to bear the restlessness any longer, Y/n sat up, her heart racing with indecision. Should she go to him? Confront these feelings head-on? She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. But the pull was too strong, the need for clarity too overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, she threw the covers aside and slipped out of bed. She threw on her cardiganHer footsteps were light, almost silent, as she reached her door. Her heart pounded with every step, the anticipation building.
Reaching for her door, she paused, her hand hovering just inches from the wood. She closed her eyes, gathering her courage, then reached for the handle and opened it, her eyes widened in surprise. There stood Fernando. He was dressed as he was earlier, as if he had been up and about, unable to sleep just like her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. âY/nâŚâ he breathed, taking a step closer. âI-"
It didnt take long for her to wrap her arms around his necl and lock her lips with his again. She had needed this. He pulled away first, looking deep into her eyes. "I need to tell you-"
"Tell me in the morning. I need you now."
#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 oneshot#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 oneshots#fernando alonso x y/n#fernando alonso x oc#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x female reader#fernando alonso imagines#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso fanfic#Fernando alonso x yn#fernando alonso
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Undescribed Avoidance
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Pairing: Jenson Button x reader, Mark Webber x reader (implied)
Warnings: None that I can see?
Notes: Thank you so much for the support on this, I'm so glad you like it! Still not the big one but I think that'll come fairly soon... I really quite like the ending of this and please let me know what you think!
Summary: You just can't seem to get Mark's attention in the way you want... But poor Jenson is trying his hardest to just have a conversation with you.
Part 1 Series Masterlist
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You're quite surprised with how different your rookie season is to your second season. Despite there still being low murmurs of doubt, you certainly proved to most that you are worthy of being here.
You walk into the paddock, head held high, ready for media day. You chose to coordinate your outfit with the car, half wanting to feel a connection to the team and half wanting to show everyone just how focused you are on the end goal this year; winning that world championship. Many would say that wearing white shoes and a white shirt is a recipe for disaster but you (and later the media agree with you) think that it not only creates a good tone for this year but also makes you look damn good.
You've ignored Jenson since the start of the season. Not deliberately per se but more so in an attempt to focus. You've fallen back into a routine not dissimilar to the one you had last year and Jenson wasn't in that routine last season, simple as. One person who was however was Mark. He was always there to congratulate you, looking out for you etc yet you cant help but notice that he seems a bit... distant? You shake your head. It's probably because of how busy the start of the season is. Ross manages his team very differently to how Frank did and goodness knows all eyes are on you. On all of you; Michael, Ross, the team and especially yourself. There have been a good number of articles stating how confident they are that you'll win the world championship this year... Not that you've looked (especially if your PR officer asks, she does not want you to read any articles about the team, something about being detrimental for your mental health or something like that...) You usualy space out during PR meetings so it should be no surprise that you don't remember every word said...
You break out from your thoughts as you hear a familiar laugh. Your head whips around and you see Mark stood outside of the red bull hospitality, talking to another red bull worker. You contemplate whether to approach him but all doubtful thoughts are pushed down as you approach him with a grin. "Hi Mark." He smiles back at you as your eyes meet and it feels as if you hadn't had any worries about growing distant. He appears to be the same old Mark that looked out for you at every turn last year. "Heya Y/L/N, how are you today?" You smile and continue to make small talk. And so what if you're a tiny bit late to hospitality, Mark is finally talking to you again so nothing else matters.
â-â-â-â-â
The first race comes and goes in a flash of champagne, confetti and celebrations that follows into the second race as well. And now, you've currently started a winning streak by winning at Australia for the second year in a row.
A slightly overeager fan even approached you when you were walking with Michael and said in an excited voice "Gosh if you win next year, we might have to call you the Queen of Australia." You all just laughed at the awful pun, both signed their cap and continued walking. Which brings you to now, and once again, you can't seem to find Mark.
You laugh at the thought. If you weren't weren't busy you'd almost thing he was avoiding you... Yet before you can continue that thought, a flash of motion catches your attention. You look to your right with an unimpressed grin. "What if I was cooking up some amazing strategy and you just distracted me?" Michael throws his head back in laughter and pats you on the back. "Good one. Ross said he wanted a team meeting in a few minutes." You roll your eyes and stand up, your knees cracking beneath you. "He always wants a meeting. You'd think it's the only reason he does this." Michael just tilts his head and you give him a funny look. "Well he hasn't changed much since his Ferrari days." You exhale slightly as the two of you continue to walk in step. "Gosh, you've been dealing with this for years?" The German just gives you a small nod and you grin at his misfortune.
â-â-â-â-â
Honestly, you blink for a moment and then suddenly Mark is racing away. It's the third race in the season and you can now confidently say, Mark Webber is in fact ignoring you. You place down the empty bottle down on the top step of the podium where you were standing moments ago and turn to race after a charging Mark. "Y/N?" You whip your head to meet Jenson's eyes as you finally reach the edge of the podium. "Sorry I've just got to chase something. Is it alright if I catch you later?" You leave Jenson no time to awnser as you're already walking off, desperate to find Mark, unknowingly also leaving a deflated looking Jenson behind you.
â-â-â-â-â
You fall back on the sofa with a groan. When Michael invited you to have dinner with his family, you assume that he expected to moan about your problems. Well regardless, you're doing it. Your teammate just chuckles and sits at the armchair as his children scatter through the door. You move your legs slightly and Gina sits at your side and Mick at his father's and your feat on a precariously placed cushion on the floor.
Gina holds out her hairbrush and bobble and you take it in a wordless gesture, the routine coming naturally to you at this point. You continue to talk to Michael as you begin to brush Gina's hair. "I just don't get what I've done wrong. I've been friendly, kept in touch over the break, all of the normal things until he still ignores me. I thought that he was better than being bitter over someone else winning." Michael laughs as you begin to separate Gina's hair into three sections. "It's not that." You look up at him, briefly pausing from plaiting his daughter's hair. You groan "I hate when you get all cryptic." Michael just grins as you feel Gina's head shake slightly in a giggle, clearly used to her father's antics. "You'll understand eventually." You tie the end of the plait as you roll your eyes and see Corrina enter the room in your peripherals. She places a tender hand on her husband's shoulder and gives you a knowing look, clearly agreeing with Michael.
Gosh, you wish you could be so in love and in sync with someone like they are, one day.
Gina mutters a small thanks and she leans her head on your shoulder. "Well don't get too comfy because otherwise dessert will get cold." At Corinna's words, Mick bolts up and starts running towards with a happy exclamation. You all breathe out laughs and follow after him, but at a much more sensible pace.
â-â-â-â-â
Silverstone. The heart of British Motorsport and one of the most iconic circuits in history. You take a deep breath, taking in the smells and sights of Thursday. A track untouched this weekend with a clear scent onto to be tarnished with burnt rubber and oil by the end of the weekend.
You meet the eyes of a young girl.
Her eyes dart around as if scared and you watch as the familiar back of Mark bends down to speak to her. You walk towards them to see if you can help the situation in any way (and you feel very thankful that you might finally be able to interact with Mark for the first time in what feels like forever). The girl backs up slightly but as you get closer, she looks up at you and meets your eyes. The girl looks to be about six and you wave at her now awestruck figure. Her mouth splits into a toothy grin and you slowly walk towards her. "Hi, I'm Y/N what's your name?" The girl giggles "I know you. I'm Charlotte." You give the small girl a smile. "That's a lovely name Charlotte. Is this your first time at Silverstone?" She nods her head and then furrows her brows as if suddenly coming to a realisation. "Yeah... my daddy wanted to take me." You smile at the girl. "Oh yeah. Is your daddy around here somewhere?" You lift your eyes and scan the surroundings. No sign of a spectator or even a frantic parent looking for a missing child.
Charlotte shakes her head and shrinks in on herself. You stand up and hold your hand out for the younger girl. "Well, shall we try and find him?" Charlotte just nods timidly and the two of you begin to look around for her father. "Can you tell me what your daddy looks like?"
You turn to Mark to ask of he'd seen the girl's father only for Charlotte to hide her face in your side and mutter something into your shirt. You gently lean away from the girl slightly and ask he to repeat myself. "My daddy said to not speak to strangers." She casts Mark a wary, almost scared look. You think for a moment and can't help but blurt out "But I'm a stranger?" Charlotte's eyes meet yours again and she shakes her head. "No you're not. You're Y/N from the racing at the weekend. I know you!" You give a soft smile at Charlotte, who is very quickly melting your heart. "Oh that's lovely. Charlotte but you can't always trust everyone you see even if they're on the telly." Charlotte pouts "But I want to be like you when I'm older. And my daddy has posters of you and that man in red in his office."
You're confused for a moment as to what she means by the 'man in red' until you draw the conclusion that she must be talking about Michael. So Charlotte's father must be a Mercedes fan then... At least that somewhat narrows it down you think?
You look around and hold your hand out again for Charlotte to take. "Well Miss Charlotte, what better way to find your father than give you a V.I.P tour of the paddock?" Charlotte's jaw drops in shock and you give a small nod to Mark who stands up and walks with the pair of you, keeping his distance to scan the surroundings for Charlotte's father. He just gives a small smile back and you feel your heart flutter at the small exchange. Charlotte clears her throat slightly and speaks in a quiet voice. "Who's that?" You tilt your head and point to Mark. "Who, him?" Charlotte nods and you can't stop yourself from smiling at the thought of the man. "That's Mark Webber, he drives for Red Bull."
Charlotte's lips form a tiny 'o' in realisation and she let's out a small exhale. She glances at Mark again and turns to you in a loud whisper (that probably seems quiet to a six year old). "Is he your boyfriend?" You feel your cheeks warm at the question and both you and Mark freeze for a moment. You refuse to meet his eyes and just the both of you splutter for a moment. You force out a small "No... no he's not." You try and shield your face from the red bull driver and you see Charlotte cast a wary glance at Mark again. She whispers to you again "My daddy said all Australians are upside down? Is he ok?" This time, Mark clearly overhears her and chuckles. You shake your head and when Charlotte catches sight of a food cart tucked to the side of the McLaren hospitality, she races towards it, pulling you along with her.
Mark trails behind and unbeknownst to you, stares at the two of you with a look of longing. A dream future suddenly flashing before his eyes, hitting him with yet another harsh realisation of his feelings. Mark continues to look ahead at the two of you. He can't help himself from grinning yet the domestic moment is quickly broken by a man's frantic shouts.
"Charlotte!" The younger girl, now with a muffin in hand turns and widens her eyes. "Daddy!" The man runs towards his daughter and scoops her up in a protective hug, hand resting on the back of your head. His eyes are shut in sheer happiness to have his daughter back and he finally meets your eyes. "Thank you so much..." He pauses, the weight of who exactly finally found his daughter finally sinking in. You just give him a smile. "Hey, no worries. It was a pleasure to have her." The man looks down at his daughter and grins. "I'm impressed by how quickly she found the two of you. I've heen looking all morning and haven't found a single driver." You chuckle at the man, understanding exactly how little most drivers want to stop and converse with fans so early in the morning.
"Well, Charlotte here was more than exemplar at seeking us out." You reach out and rub a hand over the top of her head, making her giggle. The interaction brings you such joy and as you come to the realisation that your little moment with her and Mark is coming to an end, an idea strikes you. "Hey, how would you like to come and sit in my garage for the weekend!" Charlotte's father's jaw just drops as the girl nods happily at you. "Please, please, please!" She tugs on her father's hand "Please daddy can we?" This clearly wakes the man from his shock and still speechless, he nods franticly and you. You laugh at the grown man, who is now reduced to simple cognitive behaviour and turn towards the Williams garage. You expect to see Mark at your side and at some point in the conversation you must have failed to see him leave as the Aussie is no longer at your side. You try and ignore the pang of emotion you feel as you begin to lead the father and daughter duo to the Williams hospitality.
â-â-â-â-â
Silverstone brings yet another win and a healthy few points to add to your championship lead. And yes Sebastian Vettel is going to be a pain in your ass but when is he not...
But now is nit the time.to worry about that as you sit alone in a pub. The team had insisted on coming out and at first you'd enjoyed the evening, celebrating, singing along to your favourite songs etc. But now, you're sat alone in the corner of a dark room all alone. Your mind briefly flashes to last year at the end of the season and you try and push away the memory. At least then you were on civil terms with Mark. Now it seems like he can barely look at you. A cough makes you look up and you meet the familiar eyes of Jenson Button.
"We need to stop meeting like this." You roll your eyes at the clichĂŠ. And tilt your head "Well maybe you need to stop following me then." And for once in your life, Jenson Button makes you laugh because his dumbfounded look deserves to be placed in a museum. He grins at your laugher and quickly recovers, holding out a hand. "Well, we can't have our winner sulking in a corner. You need to celebrate!" You roll your eyes and take Jenson's hand, shaking your head as you speak "Just to clarify, this is because I have nothing beeter to do not because I want to spend the evening with you." Jenson grins. "Sure love, keep telling yourself that." And as you let Jenson lead to to the dance floor, you try and distract yourself from Mark and his recent behaviour and instead focus on Jenson. Someone who has tried to put in effort to cheer you up and be friendly towards you.
â-â-â-â-â
You meet Jenson's lips in a sultry kiss. "Don't think this means anything Button." You pull aways lightly and are met with the sight of Jenson's signature grin. "Of course not love." You just shake your head and snake your arm around his shoulders. Jenson carries on kissing you as if it would win him the world championship a hundred times over. And depsite the fact that yourself a year ago would have a fit at the thought, you must admit. Jenson Button is a damn good kisser. The sound of a distant knock sounds and the two of you pull away, your lower lip dragging between Jenson's own as you distance your faces. "Who is it?"
A second passes until you hear the familiar sound of your teammate. "Just me, Hase. Is everything alright in there?" You hum in agreeance and push Jenson oit of sight from the door. You pull down the handle and stick the top half of your body out of the door and are careful to shield Jenson from sight. You give Michael a smile and he furrows his brows before giving you a grin back. "Ah." You tilt your head at his clear realisation. "What?" The German shakes his head and grins. "Nothing Hase, just glad to see that you're alright. Are you going to go to sleep soon then?" You nod your head. "Here abouts. The race was pretty tiring and you know and just want to be ready for all of the practise Ross will no doubt make us do." Michael laughs at your repsonse, clearly used to his Ross and his intensity. Jenson also snorts at your remark but fortunately enough, Michael must not hear him over his laugher. You walk the Brit slightly, makinghim quietly grunt at the impact. "Well keep youreslf rested. And see you tomorrow." You give the older man that has become not only your mentor, but near family a soft smile. "Night, Schumi and tell Corinna and the kids I said hi." Michael smiles and walks a few steps and then lingers. "Y/N?" "Yeah?" "Don't stay up too late hm?" You sharply inhale. "What do yo-" You cut yourself off ad you see Michael's knowing look. You go to string together a coherent thought to respond but he beats you to it. "I've been there once too. Just make sure you get some rest, it's the most important thing. The both of you." You feel your cheeks warm and you look down in embarrassment as the German bids you goodnight once more and finally leaves.
You step back and gently click the door closed. Suddenly, you feel warmth around your waist. Jenson enveloped you in his arms and you hum. "He's a perceptive one." You chuckle slightly and Jenson begins to leave open mouthed kisses on the expanse of your neck. "Yeah- well I suppose you don't get 7 world championships for nothing." Jenson pauses and meets your eyes with yet another grin. "Yeah, well I'd be well on my way if there wasn't such a gorgeous distraction on track." You roll your eyes but let yourself grin this time. "Don't be rude Jense, there are far nicer ways to talk about Fernando."
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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj
#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#jenson button x y/n#jenson button x you#jenson button fanfic#jenson button x reader#jenson button#mark webber x y/n#mark webber x you#mark webber fanfic#mark webber x reader#mark webber
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Maybe I've missed the posts on Tumblr but if you're not on Twitter you might have missed the marketing on the official social media accounts. I'll post some. Amazon knows the Haladriel fanbase exists. That's what the marketing told me: they've learned what's popular and what gets them views. I don't know how much of what's popular will influence the writing and I'll do a post on my speculations in light of delayed renewal- things I've said on Twitter for 2 months.
But right now here's some of the digital marketing:
On the official The Rings of Power account, The Haladriel Nation tweet (4.1k likes) and the tweet with the BTS video of Charlie Vickers and Morfydd Clark (6.9k likes) were among the posts that got the most engagement.
The only two posts with greater likes were a BTS video about the Siege of Eregion (5.7k likes) and one thanking viewers (7k likes). Their other posts average around 2k likes.
The shift was unmissable when Prime Video was comparing Sauron and Galadriel to Daisy and Billy from Daisy Jones & The Six, a romantic couple.
Another account (Amazon MGM Studios) in on the action.
The Rings of Power account social media manager addressing us as Haladriel Nation on the official account and then on his personal account. He got people trying to get him fired for this post by the way.
International Prime accounts on Twitter, TikTok, Insta, and YouTube Shorts.
Prime Mexico calling Sauron and Galadriel "my parents"
Prime Video Brazil made a YouTube Short saying "the love of Sauron and Galadriel speaks louder"
The Rings of Power account on Instagram:
Prime Video Australia/NZ posting Haladriel edits on TikTok:
There are a lot of official accounts associated with Prime Video, Amazon MGM, and then there's the TROP account. They've all been posting edits of the fight from different angles regularly and this is just some of the digital marketing. They do post other dynamics of course but none this shippy and none as much as the Haladriel dynamic. The TROP account started a Fan Artist Friday 3 weeks ago to highlight fan art. They picked a canon compliant non-shippy Silvergifting fan art and they did the same for the Haladriel fan art as well. It was definitely carely chosen to avoid accusations of bias Irving Lopez got over the official account shouting out Haladriel Nation lol. The rest were just character art- they posted Adar fanart last Friday.
Unlike other marketing formats which requires more planning and time to coordinate, digital marketing is the most reactive to fan response. These official accounts were lurking on Haladriel fan accounts and responding to them during S2, and reposting Haladriel fans but it shifted post-s2 into overtly shipping material.
And baiting only works for so long before folks stop buying. I've said this before. When people hear there's only one scene, they'll just watch that scene on YouTube or TikTok. This happens a lot with other fandoms. Folks posting YouTube scene playlists and TikTok outright posting everything. But I'll save this for a post about PR in the context of the flux the show is in.
#I debated doing a longer post but there's so MUCH#haladriel#saurondriel#the rings of power#trop#rings of power
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Why Choose HS Digital Media For PR Media And Coordination:
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It has just crossed my mind but do you think pr relationships between nations are a thing in the nation revealed au like two nations pretending to date for social,political,economical...purposes the more i think about it the more i see germany and France in this kind of situation like they are both the leaders of the EU so everyone has to see how they are united and all so their gouvernements go : you know what screams unity,equality and cooperation A relationship!!! , also in real life the french media often uses the term (couple franco-allemand) which means (franco-german couple) so in the nation revealed au that basically confirms that they are together . Like i can see Francis playing into it and being purposefully affectionate with Ludwig in front of the cameras just to poke fun at the media and watch everyone go crazy over it and read way too much into it while Ludwig is sooo embarassed but has to keep up the pretense to make his gouvernement happy .
Absolutely. After all, what better way to show off your alliance than to have your nation personifications hanging out? France and Germany are definitely a good example. They make a lot of visits to each other. Some are carefully coordinated by their bosses and PR teams. Other times, it's as simple as France taking a train ride to Berlin to bring Germany some delicious bread.
France definitely makes a big show for the media. He holds Germany's hand, gives him affectionate nicknames like "Lu-lu", and loves taking him to dinner at fancy restaurants. It's all very on-the-nose, but there's just enough ambiguity to leave things up to interpretation.
Germany sees the relationship more as a professional thing. France is a coworker. He needs to maintain a positive relationship with him as an ally. Not to say that he doesn't enjoy France's company, but he's really annoyed with the media making it seem like they're soulmates. Some news outlets use the term "couple franco-allemand" a little too literally for his liking.
France really just loves to create an interesting story for the media. When asked about Germany, he'll be like "Oh...Ludwig means so much to me...and our bond has never been stronger...especially after last night..." and he'll refuse to elaborate. Then he sits back and watches as everyone starts speculating. Germany has told him to tell the truth, but it's already too late.
#hetalia#forsoobado answers#anon#hetalia headcanons#aph france#hws france#hetalia france#francis bonnefoy#aph germany#hws germany#hetalia germany#ludwig beilschmidt#gerfra#nations revealed au#hetalia public au#France is the master of starting rumors about himself#Germany low-key hates it#but he can't do anything because then it would be a bad look
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Dan Wootton
(The video and the substack article have the same information and graphics/visuals.)
Harry has several anonymous accounts on Twitter and other social media (that he reportedly hates) to monitor how he and Meghan are being covered and talked about.
The Sussexes are fully aware of what Sussex Squad does and directly feed into it. Scobie and Bouzy are in direct contact with the Sussexes. Bouzy and Meghan's PR teams are also in direct contact with many of the Sussex Squad accounts/users. Byline Times is one of Harry's partners.
Sussex Squad has been targeting Wootton since he published Megxit. Wootton's sources include people close to Harry and people close to Sussex Squad.
Sussex Squad created KateGate and began certain rumors about William. Wootton was able to identify the account responsible for starting #WhereisKate and alleging her disappearance is because of William's temper.
Bouzy is most likely the individual responsible for Getty's flagging of KP's pictures and Kate's video statement as being edited and inauthentic.
Wootton hints that Sussex Squad somehow found out about Kate's cancer diagnosis and/or their coordinated attacks on KP (probably via the KateGate hysteria) forced Kate to announce her cancer and treatment plan before she was ready and before she had fully come to grips with it.
Sussex Squad has been spooked off Twitter and now use Discord for their collaboration.
Wootton also identifies and discusses 3 Sussex trolls:
Troll 1 is a techy in NYC who is a close Bouzy collaborator. She is one of the main accounts that have harrassed and targeted Wootton and his partner because of Wootton's critical coverage of the Sussexes. She has publicly admitted to it. She is no longer trolling because it's toxic and allegedly has quit Twitter, though not before claiming that Wootton and his people were threatening to hurt her and her dog.
Troll 2 is a business dude in Tampa. He specifically targets Camilla and has claimed that she is Meghan's main bully and has enlisted Jeremy Clarkson and Piers Morgan in her bullying campaign. He also tries to keep connecting Charles to Germany, and specifically to N*zi Germany.
Troll 3 is a British advertising executive. This individual has alleged that Camilla is responsible for Charles's cancer, because she has been poisoning him since the coronation so she can retire "young."
One of Wootton's bigger points is that if the Sussexes want to be taken seriously as advocates for internet reform/social media protections, then they must publicly disassociate from and condemn Sussex Squad's behavior and activities. He doesn't think they will.
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First, I'm pleasantly surprised by this. I was expecting Wootton to be a little more sensational about his discoveries, but it's clear he's really done his homework and has really spent some time investigating this. If you're into this kind of thing, you might actually enjoy getting his updates so why not sign up for it. Use a burner email, though. You can never be too safe.
Second, I'm not really sure about using Wootton's reporting to validate some of the rumors and theories I'm tracking. On the one hand, Wootton has legit sources and a track record that makes him one of the more reliable reporters. But on the other hand, I like double-confirmation for my verification so I can be sure that it's the absolute truth.
What do y'all think?
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Summer 2025 Game Development Student Internship Roundup, Part 2
Internship recruiting season has begun for some large game publishers and developers. This means that a number of internship opportunities for summer 2025 have been posted and will be collecting applicants. Internships are a great way to earn some experience in a professional environment and to get mentorship from those of us in the trenches. If youâre a student and you have an interest in game development as a career, you should absolutely look into these.
This is part 2 of this year's internship roundup. [Click here for part 1].
Associate Development Manager Co-op/Internship - Summer 2025 (Sports FC QV)
Game Product Manager Intern (Summer 2025)
Music Intern
EA Sports FC Franchise Activation Intern
Associate Character Artist Intern
Client Engineer Intern
Visual Effects Co-Op
Associate Environment Artist Co-Op (Summer 2025)
Game Design Intern (Summer 2025)
Game Design Co-Op (Summer 2025)
Concept Art Intern - Summer 2025
UI Artist Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)
Assistant Development Manager Intern
Global Audit Intern
Creator Partnerships Intern - Summer 2025
Technical Environment Art Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)
Intern, FC Franchise Activation, UKI
Tech Art Intern - Summer 2025 (Apex Legends)
Software Engineer Intern
UI Artist Intern
Game Designer Intern
FC Franchise Activation Intern
Software Engineer Intern
Product UX/UI Designer
Software Engineer Intern
Enterprise, Experiences FP&A Intern
Game Designer Intern
Software Engineer Intern
Development Manager Co-Op (Summer 2025)
Software Engineer Intern
PhD Software Engineer Intern
Character Artist Intern
2D Artist Intern - Summer 2025
Software Engineer Intern (UI)
Entertainment FP&A Intern
Game Design Co-Op (Summer 2025)
Data Science Intern
Production Manager Intern
Software Engineer Intern
Channel Delivery Intern
FC Pro League Operations Intern
World Artist Intern
Experience Design Co-Op
Media and Lifecycle Planning Intern
Software Engineer Intern - Summer 2025
Software Engineer Intern - Summer 2025
Intern, FC Franchise Activation, North America
Creative Copywriter Intern
Game Design Intern
Social Community Manager Co-Op
Business Intelligence Intern
Software Engineer Intern (F1)
Total Rewards Intern - MBA level
Intern - Office Administration
Digital Communication Assistant â Internship (6 months) february/march 2025 (W/M/NB)
International Events Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)
Intern Cinematic Animator
Research Internship (F/M/NB) - Neural Textures for Complex Materials - La Forge
Research Internship (F/M/NB) - Efficient Neural Representation of Large-Scale Environments - La Forge
Research Internship (F/M/NB) â High-Dimensional Inputs for RL agents in Dynamic Video Games Environments - La Forge
Research Internship (F/M/NB) â Crafting NPCs & Bots behaviors with LLM/VLM - La Forge
3D Art Intern
Gameplay Programmer Intern
Intern Game Tester
Etudes StratĂŠgiques Marketing â Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
Localization Assistantâ Stage (6 mois) Avril 2025 (F/H/NB)
Fraud & Analyst Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
Payment & Analyst Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
Media Assistant â Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
IT Buyer Assistant - Alternance (12 mois) Mars 2025 (H/F/NB)
Event Coordinator Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)
Communication & PR Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
Brand Manager Assistant - MARKETING DAY - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/N/NB)
Manufacturing Planning & Products Development Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)
Retail Analyst & Sales Administration Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (H/F/NB)
UI Designer Assistant - Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/M/NB)
Esports Communication Assistant
Machine Learning Engineer Assistant â Stage (6 mois) Janvier/Mars 2025 (F/H/NB)
Social Media Assistant â Stage (6 mois) Janvier 2025 (F/H/NB)
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THE STORY
Music has always been a part of you.
You could hold a bow (violin/viola/cello) before you could hold a pencil. Unfortunately, life has catapulted you into a downward spiral. Your college band disintegrates. A close friendship goes up in flames. Youâre doing nothing with your life. Death and a personal betrayal have left you bereft. You have never felt more worthless. Everything culminates on the night of your sisterâs wedding when you drunkenly form a Faustian contract with the entity that haunts your apartment.
For better and for worse, you are now destined for greatness.
The devil has but one thing to ask in return: absolute domination. You are to conquer anything and everything through the power of good olâ fashioned rock nâ roll. And youâre not alone. Armed with friends (new and old), a new band, and quite literal hellspawn to help, you are going to conquer the world.
Not because itâs what you want, but because failure is not an option.
Not for any of you.
CONTENT WARNINGS
Retroghouls is intended for mature 18+ audiences for dark topics including abuse, violence, explicit language and sexual content, and more.
FEATURES
Customize your MC from their physical appearance, personality, sexuality to their musical background (violin, viola, or cello), familial relationships, and more.
Choose your bandâs concept and determine its overarching message. Is your group activist, a sex symbol, or a harbinger of destruction? Will you tell your fans that theyâre not alone? Will you challenge them to persevere no matter what? Or will you encourage them to burn it all down?
Manage your newfound inspiration and the cornucopia of side effects that come with it.
Protect the anonymity of you and your bandmates.
Outwit a demon or two â if you play your cards right.
Romance a cast of troubled individuals.
Make objectively terrible decisions! Ruin lives! Or donât. You will face the consequences of your actions either way.
ROMANTIC INTERESTS
Camille âIlimâ Vaughan [she/her or he/him] is the drummer of your new group. Having been involved in the music industry for over a decade, they are a person who invokes a myriad of opinions. Both beloved and reviled, Ilim themselves operate in extremes. They make no effort to hide their agenda. So the question follows â what part will you play in the reckoning? [MORE]
Tuesday âNeedleâ Nelson [he/him or she/her] is the bass of your bandâs guitar trio. So, whether it is during concerts, midnight comp sessions, or just casual riffing at hq, they are always close by. Music has always been their one true love and so theyâre determined to pour their blood, sweat, and tears into this project. Tuesday has very little else otherwise. [MORE]
Micky Monroe [she/her or he/him] You two took orchestra together in high school and havenât given a passing thought towards one another since your graduation performance. Now, courtesy your prodigious manager, Micky & Archangels are the feature on your upcoming album. Once the album is done, youâll surely fade from one anotherâs lives just like before. Both of you agree, itâll be just like before. [MORE]
Jack/Jackie Graves [he/him or she/her] is the heart of your PR team, coordinating with managers, publicists, and social media specialists to ensure no unnecessary information about the band leaks. Your privacy is their bread and butter. Your security pays their bills. Donât mistake their friendliness. Donât mistake their kindness. Itâs just common business to look out for oneâs best interests.
#interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive game#twine game#dating sim#retroghouls if#interact if#if wip#interactive fiction wip
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Touya comes out AU:
Reporter: Ms. Todoroki, are you aware of the rumours about your husbands affair with pro hero Selkie.
Rei, who knows the whole story: I have heard them actually. And I would like to put an end to the rumours once and for all.
Rei who is secretly a little shit: They are not having an affair. Affair implies that I am unaware and not encouraging it. I am perfectly ok with letting the boys have their alone time and the whole media circus painting me as some poor foolish woman is ridiculous.
Reporter: ...
Rei: If that is all, have a nice day.
Meanwhile, Endeavour's PR team gets a collective shiver down their backs and the horrible feeling that they are going to have a lot of work in the coming months.
I really need to tag these but also YEaH.
I think the funniest part is that none of them coordinated this they just roll with it
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