#Vater unser

[somethingundermyskin]

,,Let us not be seduced by the surface of life, nor be so introverted and self-absorbed that we can no longer act simply and humanly at the right time.

Save us from hoarding false wealth and from the shame of not giving help at the right time. Let not superficial things mislead us, but free us from what is holding us back.’’

After Neil Douglas-Klotz, The Lord's Prayer p.65; credits to the site ,,gottimalltag.de/glaubens-gedanken/aramaeisches-vatermutterunser/“; translated from Aramaic to German to English

[lord-here-i-am]

[neco117]

Wenn mein Vater schon der Verkäuferin an der Theaterkasse vom Spatort als positiv-Beispiel erzählt (mitsamt Tumblr-Erwähnung), weil sie mit dem alten, konservativen Fernsehprogramm nichts anfangen kann... 💀

[nichtimhandelerhaeltlich]

one thing my 7 years of religion class gave is the skill to say the Paternoster really really fast

[lvstharmony]

:')

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

OH FUCK YES I KNOW THAT PRAYER

[mayuris-basement-dweller]

Writing the most unholy words ever known to man, listening to a very holy song, going like this

[evil-ontheinside]

Dumb thought collection:

"Why would you be travelling in this direction? I say travelling as if this is an eight-day journey on horseback instead of a twenty-minute bus ride"

To myself: "Your spine. Where is it?"

"I could continue reading this if I had placed my phone in a different position of time and space"

"That's a fun shaped church"

"That [ad for a Catholic kindergarten] feels elitist. Why would I do that to my child? My kid is supposed to brawl in the sandbox and not learn the Vater Unser"

Greg voice: "I'm a rock fact!"

"Unhinge your jaw! No, wait"

"I'm a skeptic in some ways. I don't trust this shit [lucky potato post] but also, why not? But also why?"

"Why is it already fucking Monday on... Monday"

"You're literally the most annoying person ever. And you're not even a person" (to my cat)

Thinking of waving at the garden gnome to see if it's alive because "who can resist a good wave from across the street?"

"There's definitely a mosquito in here and it has *narrows eyes* my blood."

"I'm literally going to butcher someone at this rate"

"I feel very safe by the wall. I like the wall. We like the wall."

"Noodle is back from the war."

"The sneeze! The sneeze got me."

"It is I: me."

To my cat: "What are you, a horse? "

[photographerandgentleman]

[somethingundermyskin]

Our Father in heaven Father and Mother of the cosmos, source of love. "Oh you! Breathing life in all, Creator of the shimmering sound that touches us. O bearer! Father-mother of the cosmos, everything that moves you create in the light. You Shining One: You shine within us and without us - even the darkness shines when we remember".

The Lord’s Prayer original translation out of Aramaic by F.X. Jans-Scheidegger translation to German by Douglas Klotz, das Vaterunser

[skyetenshi]

Schauen wir uns mal kurz die Namensbedeutungen unserer Jungs an: Justus = Der Gerechte Jupiter = oberster römischen Gottes, ältere Name Diēspiter (dieis oder dies = Tag , pater = Vater) = Himmelsvater. Jonas = Taube, interpretiert als »der Frieden Liebende«

Peter = Petrus = lateinisch für Fels . Dunstan = (dunkler) Fels. Shaw = Gestrüpp oder Dickicht. Robert = „von glänzendem Ruhm“ Andrews = Andreas = Der Tapfere / Der Männliche

Die drei ??? Die drei Detektive Wir übernehmen jeden Fall Erste Detektiv: Gerechter Himmelsvater liebt den Frieden Zweiter Detektiv: Fels Fels Gestrüpp. Recherchen und Archiv: Der vor Glänzendem Ruhm Tapfere Mann

Ich weiß nicht warum es so gut passt, dass Justus praktisch ein Gott ist, Bob die ruhmreiche Ausgeburt der Männlichkeit und Peter... naja Peter ist halt Fels Fels Gestrüpp.

[lord-here-i-am]

"The Holy Joseph Is a Dragon Slayer! The Title 'Terror of Evil Spirits' Is the Most Extraordinary Title of Saint Joseph. It Is a Frightening and Commanding Title, It Is the Title of a Warrior. The Lily That Saint Joseph Holds in His Hand Is a Powerful Spiritual Weapon, a Sword of Purity. It Has the Power to Pierce Fire-Breathing Dragons (Evil Spirits) and to Defeat Every Form of Filth and Darkness."

Book: "Consecration to Saint Joseph" by Donald H. Calloway, MIC

[deutsche-bahn]

Lutz -der Scheidungsmops- war mein Kindheitshund, Idol und Vorbild.

Meine Mutter wollte früher einen Hund haben, mein Vater wollte keine Haustiere, man eignete sich auf eine Art von Hund die rein definitorisch wahrscheinlich eher als Star Wars Alien durchgeht: den Mops.

Lutz stammte aus einer Sportmops-Zucht, die angeblich etwas freiatmender seien. Leider hatte niemand Lutz darüber informiert, der Zeit seines Lebens an Asthma und Kehlkopfkrämpfen litt.

Sein voller Name war Lutz vom Wiehetal. Er war unbelehrbar, praktisch furchtlos und hätte durchaus in den Dienst als Polizeihund eintreten können wenn er mehr als acht Zähne gehabt hätte. Mit 18 Monaten floh er vom Grundstück und wurde von einem Auto erfasst. Es ging in die Tierklinik, Not-OP, Physiotherapie. Man entfernte ihm beide Hüftgelenke, auf der einen Seite wurde ein künstlicher Gelenkkopf eingesetzt. Kostenpunkt: zwei Jahre kein Familienurlaub (selbst so ein Unfall hat also Vorteile). Trotz tierärztlicher Erwartung überlebte Lutz. Er war nun leider mit einem sehr merkwürdigen Gang gestraft, der absolut lächerlich ausgesehen hätte, wenn er nicht schon von vornherein ausgesehen hätte wie ein britischer Parlamentarier. Zumindest passte die Gehbehinderung in's Bild. Auf Nachfrage sagte mein Vater immer, der Hund wäre auf der Jagd verunglückt. Lutz war praktisch talentfrei: Einmal nahmen wir ihn mit zur Windhundrennbahn, anlässlich deren Mopsrenntages. Meine Mutter fragte bei der Anmeldung allen Ernstes, ob es neben den Gewichtsklassen auch eine Kategorie für behinderte Möpse gäbe. Gab es nicht. Lutz' Chancen waren also gering. Egal. Dabei sein ist alles. Lutz war nur leider auch das dabei sein zu viel, da er auf halber Strecke die Rennbahn durch die Absperrung gen Würstchenbude verließ. Mopsgeschwindigkeit ging nicht, wir hatten einen Marderschaden.

Dieser Mops war mein ein und alles. Meine Mutter hatte nach ein paar Jahren als ihre Kinder groß genug waren, um nicht mehr von einem Labrador gebodycheckt werden zu können, einen Zweithund angeschafft: den scheiss Irish Setter. Da sie ohnehin immer einen "richtigen" Hund haben wollte, wurde unser liebenswerter, übel riechender, gehbehinderter Sportmops zur zweiten Geige. Meine Mutter fuhr mit dem Setter zur Hundeschule, mein Vater nahm den Mops mit auf Montage.

Bei der Scheidung waren die Hunde das einzige, was für meine Eltern sofort geklärt war. Meine Mutter nahm den Setter mit, mein Vater behielt Lutz. Für mich war es damals schon ganz und gar nicht geklärt. Als mein Vater mich mit 16... spontan ausziehen ließ da er von meinen hOmoSeXuELlen AKtiViTätEN mitbekommen hatte, gab ich den Großteil meines Zeugs ohne Widerstand auf, bis auf den gottverdammten Mops. Nicht, dass mein Vater den Hund so unfassbar lieb gewonnen hätte. Er wollte ihn noch nicht mal zum Tierarzt bringen als die letzten paar Zähne in seinem Maul anfingen zu verrotten. Nein, es ging vielmehr darum dass er lieber alles, was mir besonders wichtig war behalten wollte. Dazu gehörten damals auch mein Handy und ein für meine Körpermaße und Schusstechnik angefertigter Sportbogen. Ich weiß ja nicht was er mit letzterem hätte anfangen können.

Jedes Mal, wenn die Nachbarin meines Vaters auf Lutz aufpassen musste, weil Vatern gerade im Urlaub war, stattete sie mir und meiner Mutter einen Besuch mitsamt Hund ab. An diesem Punkt: Claudia bestie ich schulde dir grobe Mengen an Fantakuchen. Das waren auch die letzten paar Male, bei denen ich ihn gesehen habe. Seit einer Weihnachtskarte mit der Beschriftung "Frohes Fest! Ich wünsche mir Lutz." hat mein Vater tatsächlich nur noch wegen rechtlichen Anliegen Kontakt mit mir aufgenommen. Das Oberlandesgericht war damals so gar nicht amused, als ich von dem Mops angefangen habe. Keiner der Anwälte hatte die Vorderung so richtig ernst genommen (me neither, ich ging damals nur gerne Leuten auf den Sack, egal wie unrealistisch die Forderung an sich rechtlich war). Die Richterin fand es einfach nur ein bisschen traurig.

Sorry, die Geschichte hat keine wirkliche Punchline. Am Ende ist der Scheidungsmops halt bei meinem Vater geblieben. Ich habe auch kein geteiltes Sorgerecht bekommen. Ich werde aber mal bei Gelegenheit ein paar zusätzliche Geschichten über Lutz erzählen.

[khamishassan]

Eine Dame fragt:

"Für wie viel verkaufst du deine Eier?" Der alte Verkäufer antwortet: "0,50¢ pro Ei, Madam". Die Frau sagt: "Ich nehme sechs Eier für 2,50 ç oder ich gehe." Der alte Verkäufer antwortet ihr: "Kaufen Sie sie zu dem Preis, den Sie wollen, Madam. Es ist ein guter Anfang für mich, weil ich heute kein Ei verkauft habe und ich es zum Leben brauche.

Sie kaufte ihre Eier zum Marktpreis und ging mit dem Gefühl, das sie gewonnen hatte. Sie stieg in ihr elegantes Auto und ging mit ihrer Freundin in ein elegantes Restaurant. Sie und ihre Freundin bestellten, was sie wollten. Sie aßen ein wenig und hinterließen viel von dem, was sie sich gewünscht hatten.

Also bezahlten sie die Rechnung, die 400 Dollar betrug. Die Damen gaben 500 Dollar und sagten dem Besitzer des schicken Restaurants, er solle das Wechselgeld als Trinkgeld behalten ....

Diese Geschichte mag für den Besitzer des Luxusrestaurants ganz normal erscheinen, aber sehr ungerecht gegenüber dem Eierverkäufer.......

Die Frage, die sich daraus ergibt, ist:

Warum müssen wir immer zeigen, dass wir Macht haben, wenn wir von den Bedürftigen kaufen? Und warum sind wir großzügig zu denen, die nicht einmal unsere Großzügigkeit brauchen?

Ich habe mal irgendwo gelesen:

"Mein Vater kaufte früher Waren von den Armen zu hohen Preisen, auch wenn er diese Dinge nicht brauchte. Manchmal hat er mehr für sie bezahlt. Ich war erstaunt. Eines Tages fragte ich ihn: "Warum tust du das, Dad?"

Da antwortete mein Vater: "Es ist eine Wohltätigkeit, die in Würde gehüllt ist, mein Sohn."

Ich weiß, dass die meisten von euch diese Botschaft nicht teilen werden, aber wenn ihr einer der Menschen seid, die sich die Zeit genommen haben, so weit zu lesen ... Dann wird diese Botschaft eines Versuchs der "Humanisierung" noch einen Schritt weiter gegangen sein .... in die richtige Richtung...

[dreamauri]

‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾

you are reading :: part twelve !!

╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┊ summary . . . this part of your life is called: healing <3 ) ┊ genre . . . fluff ) ╰╮ warning . . . google translated german )

( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )

2013 — somewhere in France

You flicked the visor up, nodding in thanks as the steward handed you the trophy. "félicitations, seventeen. C'était une belle performance aujourd'hui" [congratulations, seventeen. That was a beautiful performance today] He clapped your back, standing beside you for the photographer to take his shot before moving onto Max in second place, then Charles in fourth.

You go back to your little station once the trophy giving is over. Gathering your stuff, you couldn't help but overhear the shouting between the Verstappens a few tents away. And you did what any person did. You watched Jos fuss around in Dutch before ultimately stomping away.

Max looked down at his feet defeated, angry tears in his eyes as he looked around for the things he had to pack. [you need help] He looked back to see your figure standing at the entrance.

He didn't say a word, watching you silently. You were the reason he got the scolding after all. Jos wasn't pleased that his son lost to a girl.

"Ich bin mit dem Packen meiner Sachen fertig und dachte, du brauchst die zusätzlichen Hände." [i finished packing my stuff, i thought you'd need the extra hands] You offered gently, taking a step in. Max looked away from you, clicking his tongue in visible annoyance. "Das mit deinem Vater tut mir leid. Ich weiß, wie scheiße es ist-" [i'm sorry about your father. i know how much it sucks-] "Du weißt nichts." [you don't know anything] Max spat back angrily.

"Das tue ich leider." [i do, unfortunately] You sighed scratching the back of your head only to find your helmet there instead. "Unsere Väter sind sich sehr ähnlich." [our fathers are very similar] "und wie ist das? Ich wette, du bist nur Papas Tochter, die immer wieder gewinnt." [and how's that? you're just daddy's girl who keeps winning, I bet]

"Er hat mich in ein Zimmer gesperrt. Er will nicht, dass ich gewinne." [he locked me in a room. he doesn't want me to win] you looked away feeling ashamed. "aber das ist nicht der Punkt. Ich bin hergekommen, um dir beim Packen zu helfen. Habe ich die Erlaubnis?" [but that's not the point. i came here to help you pack. do I have permission]

He looked at you for a few moments before nodding hesitantly. You got to work. And although you were still in your early teen years and weren't as strong as a full grown man, you were able to help him as much as he needed; with his kart, with the tent, his tools, his spare parts, everything.

"Vielen Dank, dass ich Ihnen helfen durfte." [thank you, for letting me help you] You put your hand out for him to shake and he took it gently. "Danke, dass du mir geholfen hast." [thank you for helping me]

"Ich gehe jetzt, bis bald, Verstappen." [i will be going now, i'll see you soon, Verstappen] ". . .-wie geht es dir nach Hause?" [how are you going home] why was he asking? You weren't that relevant or important for him to worry about your safety. Then again, Max couldn't imagine a podium where you weren't P1.

He could see the smile and sunshine reach your eyes. That was the first time he noticed your eyes. Safe to say he was mesmerized by the gentleness and warmth that came with them.

"Mach dir keine Sorgen, mein Onkel holt mich ein paar Blocks weiter von der Tankstelle ab." [don't worry about it, my uncle will pick me up from the gas station a few blocks down] He watched you pull your machine in your pull cart, keeping your helmet on as you exited the circuit alone.

Max never thought you'd have such a big heart to help him or such pretty eyes that still lingered in his mind when he closed his eyes for a nap during the car ride home.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I am your father."

"Nooo." You and Leon said at the same time in monotone, syncing with Luke Skywalker on the screen in front of you. Mkayla looked out the window worried, watching your brothers run after Max around the garden in the rain.

"Should we be worried—" "No." You and Leon answered at the same time, eating popcorn in sync, 100% focused on the master piece of a movie. Star Wars: the empire strikes back.

"That was . . . Enough cardio . . . To last me . . . 50 reincarnations." Meike flopped on the couch wet with rain and sweat. You pushed him away, fake gagging from the gross smell and touch.

"Pink." He retorted ( trying to insult you ) before moving onto his girlfriend who wore the same grossed out reaction. You watched as Killian walked in with Max in headlock, one dropping in his father's chest and the other in yours.

"Get off me, kid." Leon fussed pushing his oldest away, cringing at the beads of sweat in his hands, which he wiped off in your shirt ( an inside joke you were surprised he still remembered ).

"But that's not fair! Micky and Nunu are with their partners. My wifey isn't here! Dad, be my dad for a second— I don't want to third wheel . . . Or not." Killian backed away upon meeting his father's deathly glare. The rest of you couldn't help but laugh watching Killian sit beside his father's legs, hugging his calf.

"So, does this make us official?" Max whispered in your ear. You've told him he had to complete a ritual from your father's side of the family, usually for relationships and such.

"What do you mean? We've been official since Monaco." You teased, plopping a popcorn in your mouth with a smirk. Max pursed his lips, holding you from your shirt, gently shaking you back and forth.

"Stoooop- Maaaaaaax. This is my favorite part." You giggled, pushing him away, wiping his face dry with your sleeve.

Somewhere in Italy, Killian decided to rent out a small mansion to absolutely chase and kill the living hell out of Max for the week off. And since Killian invited your boyfriend, he also invited Mkayla ( who you had done the ritual with quickly before the clouds arrived ). Killian also invited Leon because he didn't want to be a third wheel on his own like a pussy.

"Okay the wags share a room and the siblings share a room." Killian jokes, pushing Max away from you. "Me? The wag?" He laughed, shaking his head going around to hold your hand again.

"Wag or not, you're not sleeping beside my sister." "It's not like we haven't done that before."

You watched as Meike chased Max around with a cooking spoon.

Max and you did get to share a room eventually. You let him take a shower while you searched for your phone to check on Leila. "Hey, papa. Have you seen my pho-" "Shhh." You looked at the tv to watch the scene. "Where's padme?"

You sighed, leaning on the door frame as you watched the last bits from the movie. You never knew why, but your family was almost identical to the Skywalkers. Broken up and torn only to try and fix itself up in the last few moments.

You sighed once the movie was over, eyes following your father's hands that held up several packets of condoms along with your phone. "Papa-'' You snatched the items from his hand, blushing. "I'd rather you stay safe—" "—Papaaaa!" You whined embarrassed, running away. "Yeah yeah."

"Where did you go?" Max was sprawled on the bed, warming it up for you. "Revenge of the sith." You explained, jumping in beside him while clicking through your contacts.

"3ayzah eh?" [What do you want] Was the voice you heard after a few ringtones. Max remembers her, Leila's mother. "Jumanah! Ezayek?" [How are you] You grimaced, trying to sound polite as possible. "Zeft. 3ayzah eh?" [Shitty. What do you want].

You sighed, wincing at her harsh and drunk tone. "Momken Leila?" [can we talk to leila] "meshmaugoudah." [she's not here]. You laughed nervously at her reply while Max listened confused, pulling out his phone to attempt using Google translate.

"Azdek eh?" [what do mean] "azdi mesh maugoudah." [i mean She's not here] "mat3arafish benteik fein?" [you don't know where your daughter is] "La2, mate3melish feihah malak. El bet geryet wanna mesh na2sa koleshwaya agri waraha." [no, don't pretend to be an angel to my face. the idiot girl ran and i don't want to waste my time running after her]

You pressed the red button, turning to face Max who looked down at his phone absolutely confused and lost since Google only showed gibberish translations. "Were you guys summoning demons?"

"Leila ran away." You sighed, pulling his phone from his hand and giving him your phone instead. "Wait- What?!- oh your gallery." You quickly distracted him by opening the camera roll.

Going through his contacts, you swiped on Charles' name to FaceTime him. A sigh of relief escaped your lungs as you saw Leila's forehead pop up on the screen. "Leila! konthamout!" [I was going to die "Leila, what are you watching on there?" Charles' voice came from the background.

"Please tell me you're not learning how to summon a demon in a Ferrari driver's apartment." He took the phone from her gently, looking at the screen absolutely confused. He saw Max in a dark room, face illuminated from your phone's light.

"Charles!" You fixed the frame so he could see you. "AAA!" The Monegasque jolted and screamed ( high pitched like a girl ) and threw the phone away like a Goddamn visco girl seeing a cockroach, successfully ending the call.

You and Max stared at the 'call ended' screen unimpressed for a few moments. ". . . Was that Charles screaming?" "Yes." "Never thought I'd hear such a noise." Max sounded completely unfazed as he went back to scrolling through your photos.

Charles called you back and when you answered you knew it was Leila who dialed. "You cracked the screen," she scolded Charles, turning the phone to face him. The monegasque cringed seeing yours and Max's judging eyes on him, gently pushing the phone away.

"Maxie!" "Hey, Lei." He put your phone down, leaning closer with a relieved smile. "I missed you." Max cooed and you gave him an unimpressed and jealous look.

Leila giggled blushing. "I missed you too! Can we play football together in Monza next week? Please?" She pouted, giving her best doll eyes, successfully convincing Max.

"Don't think you're escaping the consequences of your behavior, young lady. How did you even get to Charles." "I walked." You frowned deeply at her answer. Jumanah's apartment was a 1.5 hour walk from Monaco. Did she walk an hour and a half?

"Do your feet hurt?" "Nope. Charles is getting us pizza." "Don't drag me into this! I don't even know how she got my address. And what are you two doing together-" He gasped loudly upon seeing Max's bare chest. "ARE YOU TWO- Pierre is going to love this."

You face palmed once Charles ended the call. Not even saying goodbye. You shared a quiet look with Max who only shrugged, wearing a small smile. You rolled your eyes, going back to his phone hearing a notification ding.

From you? You opened it only to see "you" sent pictures to Max. You gave him a look and Max couldn't help but crack a smile. "You're cute. Plus, so I can put you as my wallpaper." He defended, pulling you in his embrace by your waist.

You shook your head in disapproval as he laughed. "Come on, you're so cute." He trailed his hands to your ass, feeling your backpocket crunch. "What's this?" "No— wait—" He pulled out the packets before you could stop him. Upon recognizing what they were, Max smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Papa gave them to me! I didn't want them." You plead your innocence, trying to pull away only for Max to pull you closer with his mouth dipping to your neck. "He just wanted to make sure if something happens-'' You found yourself moaning upon feeling Max suck a sensitive spot under your jaw. "If? Why not?"

"Be—because— You know—" You stuttered, praying that he couldn't hear your stammering heartbeat. "Max—" you gasped, feeling him climb on top of you and undress you. "I-I've never done anything like this before." Your confession was muffled against his lips as he kissed you passionately.

"Oh . . . Do you want us to stop?" He pulled away, looking deep into your eyes. You could only see the sincerity and care in his eyes. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up and stroke his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, nuzzling in your palm.

"We can do this another time." He comforted, kissing your cheek and rolling to your side. Your eyes caught a bulge in his pants which he was quick to cover with a pillow.

The two of you stared up at the ceiling quietly for a few minutes. "Do you need help with that?" You whispered shyly. "Hmm?" He turned his head to face you confused only to find you already looking at where he was trying to cover.

"Are you sure?" You nodded with a small hum, sitting up.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You laid your head in your hands while Max argued with half of the grid on a discord call.

"Meike shut up, your dating Mkayla." Max shot back and you could hear the girl laugh from the room next door and through the voice chat. "And why are you not taking my side. Were brothers in law now."

"Max, you're mad." Pierre joked and you could hear Lando, Carlos, Charles and Alex laugh their ass off. 

"Give me the demon. Let me speak to the Demo— AAAA—" Lando screamed and threw his phone away in fear upon seeing your angry expression pop up on his screen. He didn't expect you to be right over Max's shoulder

"You are speaking to the God of death, do you have an appointment?" You pulled a few laughs from your competitors, which in turn induced your own smile.

"Miss. Anubis. If you would be oh-so-kind to confirm the information Charles is feeding our ears." Alex says in a formal tone, doing a little bow.

"Are and Max fucking?" Gorge asked, straight to the point.

You found yourself wheezing on the floor, hugging your stomach. You didn't realize the way everyone was teasing Max over the loving gaze he gave you as you ugly laughed on the floor. "I HAVE A SCREENSHOT!" You heard Yuki laugh evilly among the weird collection of laughs from the other drivers.

Max raised the phone, showing your wheezing figure on the floor beside his smiling one, holding up a peace sign. "Take another one."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

R10 - RACE DAY Sunday, June 23 2024— Monza, Italy

You jolted in shock as Yuki held you in place while Max poured the cold alcohol down the inside of your suit. You gasped and jumped around to try and warm yourself up. Christian and Max laughed as Yuki ran around the stage trying to spray you with his bottle.

It was yet another successful win for Max, and a great race for you and your teammate with a 2-3 finish. It was Yuki's first podium as well and you were going to celebrate till the sun rose the next day.

Max had his hand gently holding your back into his chest as you danced so you wouldn't fall over or escape. "SHOTS!" Yuki called, raising the bottle. "Y/N and Max!" He pointed at you jogging over with the bottle.

Max kneeled down on his knees while you learned your hands on his shoulders, bowing down just a bit. Yuki poured the bottle down which trailed down your stuck-out tongue and into Max's mouth. The crowd cheered, clapping their hands once the bottle was finished.

"KISS! KISS! KISS!" The crowd cheered as Max pulled you in his chest. He dipped you down and you yelped in surprise, gripping onto his shirt. You relaxed once you felt his lips dancing with yours. Wrapping your arm around his neck, Max pushed his tongue in your mouth.

"Kraustappen!" The crowd cheered over and over as you got back on your feet as the DJ flipped through Spanish songs.

Max smiled brightly, leaning his forehead into yours as you sang along. "Didn't know my girlfriend spoke Spanish." He commented surprised. "Reserving for Ferrari does things to you." You joked as he kissed you.

"Can confirm." Charles added in as he passed by, patting Max's back in good luck.

You and Max laughed at him as he looked at both of you tired. "You two are literal devils, mon dieu." Charles joked before scurrying off.

How you and Carlos ended up flamenco dancing on a table, you will never know. The crowd cheered your name as Carlos dipped you to where Max was standing. You didn't hesitate to pick your boyfriend's lips softly while the crowd roared in approval. Phones flashed, taking videos and photos.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"In my defense- in my defense," You cut yourself off, looking at the camera aimed at you. "I was forced to do this."

You had a cute pink tutu on as you walked into the ballet studio. It was quiet and calm with Max and Leila sitting against the wall, who clapped once they saw you walk in.

"The skirt suits you, Schat." [darling] He greeted you with a kiss once you leaned down to put your bag beside him. "Got a nickname! Score!" You whispered to the camera before going off to warm up.

"Hey vroom vroom fans. We're here at Paris, France. And with a lot of encouragement from my best friend, I'm starting a channel in the middle of the season. Because I can."

Max couldn't help but smile as he watched you mess around with elegance and beauty, trying out if you could still do stuff from your toddler years. Leila just watched football matches on her phone, not really giving a fuck.

"I'm here!" Meike jumped through the door, disturbing the peace and calmness in the room. Max glared at him for interrupting his girlfriend's beautiful choreography, folding his arms in with a deep sigh.

THe dutch covered Leila's eyes so he could flip off your twin, who returned the favor. "Bet I'm more flexible than you." Meike hummed, pretending to flip his hair, looking at the camera in the corner with a confident look.

Leila watched this part amused, versus Max who was unimpressed. He watched you and Meike cause chaos, competing to see who was more flexible.

He was more intrigued by the fact that your flexibility can come in handy for a few things, wink wink. "Oh! I know!" You concluded standing up from the bridge stretch. "Remember that dance we learned with Randy?"

"Nunu, that was 18 years ago. It's going to take me longer than that to forget that dance." "Max is going to be the judge." "Wait what? I don't even know what you guys are doing."

"Loser kisses Maxie." You put your hand out to seal the deal with your brother. It wasn't going to be any trouble for you if you lost. "Ew no, I'm not kissing Max."

"What's wrong with kissing Max?" Said driver scoffed, folding his arms. "Yeah, loser gets a kiss." The blond nodded, concluding the consequence, giving you the que to start.

You did end up winning. Max involuntarily thought you were beautiful, even if you messed up here or there. You were an angel in his eyes.

"Wait wait, let me get my phone." You giggled pulling your phone from your bag's pocket. You pulled out your phone filming the two. Meike looked like he was going to shit himself and Max looked Meike up and down, examining his target.

"I have permission from Mkayla." You put a thumbs up, watching Max hold Meike in head lock. You found yourself laughing, trying to keep your phone steady in your hands as your twin tried to squirm away from Max.

Max chuckled, kissing your brother's cheek who screamed in pain. "The agony— oh God. Someone save me—" "—It has to be on the lips!" You corrected them laughing hysterically.

If Meike wasn't struggling before, he is now. You watched as the boys scrunch their noses once they pulled away from each other. "You taste like watermelon lip gloss." Meike pointed at Max grossed out.

"You taste like girl." Max pointed back at him. You fell on your belly wheezing like there was no tomorrow. The whole street could hear you and you couldn't stop.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RACE DAY - 2:24 AM Sunday, June 30 2024 — France

"It's pretty." "You think so?"

"I think so." Max butted in on your and Lei's conversation, taking a sip of his red bull.

"Kraus! You're up." With a deep breath, you kissed Leila's cheek one more time before pulling your balaclava and racing helmet on.

Max furrowed his eyebrows with a tired glare. He wanted a kiss too. "Go to sleep." You pulled on your gloves and shoes, giving one last hug to the sleepy cousin before pressing your forehead to Max's.

"Take a nap, ya 2amar." [moon, nickname / petname] You stroked his cheek gently before pulling away to greet the arriving hyper car pulling into the pit, replacing the driver. The Dutch man carried Leila in his arms, draping her with his leather jacket while she slowly started to fall asleep with the noise canceling headphones on.

Max on the other hand watched you race around the French track. He was through his 3rd redbull can of the night, determined to watch when you were in the car. The Porsche held on nicely, he had no doubt you'd overtake Ferrari sometime down the next few corners and take the lead.

He felt himself smile hearing your radio messages and seeing your concentrated face on the screen. He's never seen your face when you're racing before, mostly because he was driving alongside you.

Max went upstairs, setting the girl on a couch so she could sleep peacefully. He continued to watch you, feeling pride and joy swell in his heart seeing you cheer as you began to lap other cars, extending the gap to your lead. Max couldn't deny that along with the joy he also felt fear. He felt goosebumps crawl on his skin, scared you'd lose footing in a corner and hurt yourself.

You were too important to him. He couldn't lose you or the little family the three of you had become. Max found himself lulled to sleep, hearing your voice over the radio. Giggles and cheers and silly questions, quiet singing with the bad jokes and attempting to create pick up lines for max ( who you didn't know was listening ) for when you finished.

Porsche seemed to be treating you well. He was surprised to hear from your PR about the email directed to you. He remembers sitting with in a corner of the paddock after media duties were fulfilled. Your PR had come over and showed you an email, one where your face lit up with joy, getting you to jump around in joy.

"Porsche wants me personally! Their first driver backed out and they wanted me! I'm their first choice! In the 24 hour of le mans!" You squealed, jogging in your place. He's never seen you so . . . happy.

Max was disappointed to see you were getting back in the car once he had woken up. Your break was short in his opinion ( he didn't get enough cuddles ). "Three more hours." He reminded himself watching you zoom out of the pitlane and back into the track.

"She's holding up nicely." Max looked beyond the wall to the other garage balcony next door. Charles stood there with a soft smile. Max found himself laughing, sharing a short hug with the Monegasque. "Mate, I didn't know you were coming."

"I wanted to see a successful Ferrari team. You know the drill." Charles joked, patting Max's back before going back to lean his forearms on the fence. "Does successful mean second place?" Max returned the joke, watching you speed by. "Ha ha. Very funny, Verstappen."

They listened to the French commentators, watching the few pit stops and opening conversations about a few teams here and there. What's a conversation with Max without maxplaining. "She seems to be doing well though." Charles commented. Max hummed in confusion, even if there was only one 'she' he could be talking about.

"Y/N?" "Yeah. I haven't heard her shout or cuss one time today." Max sighed deeply at the statement. "She's not usually—" "All fussy? I know. She has been for the last couple of months. But maybe she found her sport and team." Charles chuckled. The two formula drivers watched you come into the pits for a change of tiers before taking off again.

"found her sport and team" Why did that hurt Max? As much as it made him happy that you were happy, it also made his heart clench in a painful way knowing that the team you needed was not with him. He felt himself gulping at the thought of you leaving formula one for hypercar, a whole different world.

Max was only broken out of his trance once the crowd got impossibly loud. He's missed you crossing the checkered flag. "Congratulations." Charles shook Max's hesitant hand. "Y-yeah."

Leila dragged Max along to Parc ferme where they greeted you. With your German flag draped on your shoulders, you leaped in Max's arms pressing kisses to the French girl and the Dutch Man's cheeks. He watched the way you hugged your team in euphoria, the way you jumped in your place like an excited kid as you made it to the podium. The way you put your hand over your heart and sang with a bright and wide once the German anthem came on.

He couldn't help the small smile that made it to his own lips seeing you so happy and upbeat. He'd do anything for that smile, even if it meant letting you go.