#dad for one week 2021

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Gun Midoriya

Gun Midoriya by rictus flame

It started out as a Saturday like any other.

Then:

"Oh hey, a present from Dad!" Midoriya beamed down at the black-wrapped box on the table. "Sweet!" ... "Holy shit Deku is that a gun-"

"Deku NO-"

"Deku YES!"

Words: 1049, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Dad For One Week 2021

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Nedzu, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Tsukauchi Naomasa, Class 1-A, Sensei | All For One

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All For One, Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Crack, Sensei | All For One is Midoriya Hisashi, Sensei | All For One is Midoriya Izuku's Parent, dad for one, Parent-Teacher Conference, Identity Reveal, Midoriya Izuku Has A Gun, Scary Midoriya Izuku, Good Parent Sensei | All For One, Manipulative Sensei | All For One, All For One Is His Own Warning, Mild Midoriya Inko Bashing, Dad for One Week 2021

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43114162

[freebooter4ever]

Sending love from one depressive spiral to another.

One thing that's helped me, as I'm coming out of this one, was getting my friends to pick prompts for me (to write in my case) which I then committed to filling BADLY. Because sometimes intending to create stuff that is just dumb and shit, means it doesn't mind that my brain tells me that it's dumb and shit because I'm like "yes brain, I know, that was the brief" and then before you know it you're back in the creating zone again

Tldr: commit to being shit. 🤷‍♀️

Hello, thank you! Depression is a little shithead because it takes different forms for everybody and sometimes warps depending on the circumstances so even when i think i have a handle on it and can prepare for gaps in my exercise routine that keeps me functional....something will happen and throw me for a loop and im back to struggling. For me, when im like this, that constant voice in my head drowning out everything else - and i mean everything - saying 'you're worthless, this is pointless' over and over and over and over is almost paralyzing. Try writing a cover letter when your brain is telling you that you are probably the most useless person ever and you cant see anything even remotely good about yourself. Its why i have friends proofread if i make any major changes to my generic letter content. Especially this one friend who has the same problem - he cant sell himself, i literally can hear him talk himself in circles into thinking he's old and washed up and not valuable on the market anymore - and i cant sell myself. But i think he's the most amazing talented person ever, and he's never said it but im pretty sure he thinks similar of me, so we check each others work pitches to make sure they sound suitably enthusiastic and glowing. Ive had other people also read my letters but if they dont understand how depression can sit on the brain and make it impossible to write this shit, they dont quite know how to help me. While my one friend who gets it knows that he needs to tell me 'hey, you left out this very important vital contribution to that one project, dumbass' (only nicer lol). So i have one very happy sounding, very aggrandizing letter that i tailor to wherever im sending it. But thats all stuff i need to do. Its vital, its a requirement, i can force myself to sit down and do it.

Personal art isnt exactly a requirement. So instead of making myself sit down and do it, i can just lie on the floor feeling numb and wish i dont exist anymore 🙃

[sadgirlautumn]

My family is going to get our tree tomorrow and I really hope we get a decent one 🤞

[svvordsmachine]

hi hope this doesn't sound accusatory bc i totally believe u when u say this and i think i may kind of be in the same boat myself rn (living in california) but can u explain a little more what u mean by it "costing money to work" it's something that i struggle to put into words to explain to ppl that it's a thing

nah youre good! [thumbs up] yeah i dont know a great way to explain this either other then "california (+everything tbh) is expensive and even with a higher state min-wage its still unrealistic" my bad but ill try. also sorta disclaimer i guess? very california-centric pov

i think the point when it feels like, or it actually is, more expensive to work is either one of getting paid enough, not enough hours, or both. (though ive mostly seen and experienced it with low hours/okay pay) because state minimum wage can be 15/hr but when average rent in sac is 2k, gas runs around 5/gal, and a single can of pepsi is 3$ (THREE DOLLARS!!!! im personally mad about that one) 15 is like nothing unless youre doing 50+ a week.

that is not considering: having kids + paying for childcare, working in a different city you live in, other forms of transit (when my car shit itself it was like around 80 a day to get to work), literally any other bills, anything that comes unexpected, so on and so on. if you live half an hour away from work its obvs more expensive then ten minutes or less. also not considering work making you need to get things like new clothes/shoes/etc.

it can be hard to explain cause when saying "yeah im only making 17/hr and struggling" that can sound more like, i dont know, a personal problem? and not something closer to a "im making 17/hr and working 3 hour days so its costing me a ton to get there"

though i guess it could just boil down to: things are expensive and where or what your work is, how sporadic the schedule is can make it so work is costing you. which is a hard thing to articulate because yeah im technically getting paid to be here. but not really.

hope literally any of this made sense!

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

seriously wondering if I'm cursed or something

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy pt. 3 | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

warnings: mentions of emotional cheating, break ups

part 1 | part 2

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You’d expected the revelation to shock you, shake you from this Charles centred stupor you had found yourself in, but instead you found yourself at peace with the idea. 

In the 5 years since you’d known Charles, he had been nothing but kind, respectful and caring to everyone you had seen him interact with. Sure there were moments where his hotheaded side had come out, a bad race or a misguided comment from a reporter, but he was, underneath it all, a good guy. 

The fact he’s effortlessly gorgeous helps too. High cheekbones, bright eyes and a deep cupid's bow. He was, in every sense of the word, gorgeous. 

Grabbing your phone, you open the notes app and jot down the name of each driver, splitting them into teams, trying to compare them to Charles to see if you would feel the same sense of calm that knowing he liked you brought. 

The McLarens. Oscar was immediately struck from the equation. Too young and too in love with Lily to even consider it. Lando would make you want to strangle him daily, something he already often does whenever the two of you are bickering. 

VCARB. Yuki was in the same “too young” category as Oscar, and Daniel would infuriate you to no end with his pranks no matter how much you loved him deep down. The memory of a drunk Daniel stripped to his boxers and belting out a completely off tune Mariah Carey song sends a shudder down your spine. 

The Alpines weren’t even a consideration. You’d spoken to Pierre maybe 3 times in the entire time he’d been on the grid, and only in the presence of Max. And despite the air being cleared long ago, you still remember the dirty looks you and Esteban would exchange post Brazil 2018. 

The Haas duo had affectionately taken on the mantle of your grid dads and even the mere thought of a romantic situation between you and them made you wince. 

Kick was another immediate no for you. Apart from pleasantries, you don’t think you’d ever had a full conversation with the elusive Zhou and as much as you were impressed by the flowing mullet of Valtteri, his wife and kids knocked him out of the running automatically. 

The Williams boys were a kind pair. Logan, as sweet as he is, is grouped with Oscar and Yuki whilst Alex is very happy with Lily. If Lily ever confessed her love to you… that’s a whole other story. You chuckle softly to yourself at the fact that the only person so far to match the way Charles made you feel wasn’t even a member of the grid.

Aston Martin. Fernando was another one of your grid dads, and if Lance ever made any inclination to liking you, you fear his mob boss-esque dad would send you running for the hills. 

Mercedes. Or more so affectionately named Britcedes. Like Alex, George was happy with Carmen. Lewis was probably the only person on the grid who brought anywhere close to the same amount of calm as Charles. Even after Abu Dhabi 2021, he had always been cordial with you, often including you in any conversation if you were nearby or making sure to separate you from the entity that is The Max Verstappen. 

You took a moment. Do you measure Checo and Carlos as a mismatched unit, or consider them as half a team of their own? Sarcastically, you wonder if it would have been easier to be in this weird love triangle with Checo, at least then your team by team comparisons would be even. 

Both of them had only ever been cordial with you, Checo hardly around unless it's for race week or publicity events whereas Carlos, whilst being a lovely guy, was too much of a playboy for your standards. 

Staring at the list, you sigh. No name even came close to making your heart flutter the way it did the moment the puzzle pieces slotted into place. 

Locking your phone and sliding it back onto the night stand, you close your eyes. Hopefully a good night's sleep would help your restless mind. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You’re soon awoken by knocking. Automatically assuming it’s Max back from another night out, you roll over in bed, shoving your head into the pillows below you. 

Another round of knocks rouse you from your bed, bleary eyes catching the alarm clock proudly showing 5:03AM in mocking bright green. 

Stumbling hands unlatch the lock, pulling on the handle sleepily. “Max, I told you -”

Pausing your sentence, you eye the two individuals in front of your door, neither of which were your boyfriend. You scratch your head slowly at the sight of the two, briefly remembering a text Flavy had sent to you saying she would be coming over early today for a girls weekend. 

Shaking your head at your own forgetfulness, you open the door fully, inviting the two in sheepishly. “Sorry, I kinda forgot you were coming…”

Flavy waves off your apology, dropping a kiss to each cheek as Esteban follows, a small suitcase in each hand. 

He huffs as he drops them gently by the door, rolling his wrists out slowly. “I don’t know how you managed to pack so much into such tiny suitcases. If I get P20 in the next race, it’s from breaking my wrists carrying these things around.” He finishes his sentence by scuffing his foot softly against one of the suitcases, bright smile offsetting the tone in his voice. 

Wrapping your arms around him in a brief hug, you guide them through to the kitchen, Jimmy and Sassy watching from their perches as the two take a seat on the sofa. Flavy fusses over her boyfriend's wrists sarcastically, biting the inside of his wrist playfully. 

Your heart aches at the scene of blissful domesticity, trying to remember the last time you and Max joked around like that. Trying to distract yourself from bringing the mood down, you bring over two glasses of water for the pair, settling into the large armchair opposite.

Flavy clears her throat before facing you, eyes full of concern. “So, I’m not sure how much you want to say in front of Este, but we’re worried about you, Y/N. I may have known you the least amount of time out of all the girls, but I’d say we’re pretty close.” 

You hum your agreement, eyes flitting between Flavy and Esteban. 

“Whenever I see you in the paddock or at the girl’s catch ups, you always look… sad recently. And with the whole tweet thing, and Max’s general behaviour recently, I, well we, just wanted to check on you.” She drags herself up from the sofa, settling in beside you on the armchair. “You’re one of my favourite people, and it makes me sad to see you hurting. What’s going on, Y/N?” 

You keep your eyes trained on the bracelet around your wrist, a 2 year anniversary gift from Max. A hand settles softly on your shoulder, the warmth seeping through your thin sleep shirt. 

Before you can stop it, a sob tears through your throat, raw and visceral as it claws its way out into the world. The bracelet before you blurs behind swimming tears and that same warm hand pulls you into a cosy jumper. 

You hear Esteban clear his throat, obviously unsure about what to do. Flavy wraps you tighter in her arms, whispering reassuring words in your ear as you heave breath after breath into your lungs, trying desperately to claw back your last few shards of dignity. 

They slip through your fingers like sand, disappearing like whispers into the wind. Each sob racking through you amplifies the ache in your chest, and if you listened closely enough, you could hear the cracks scattered across your heart widen. 

Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass before you can take a somewhat normal breath, face still buried in the warmth of Flavy’s jumper. Her other hand is now pressed to the back of your head, stroking gently over your hair as she murmurs something in French to Esteban. He responds with a hum, and you hear socked feet padding across the floor before a blanket is draped over your shoulders. 

Peeking out from the cashmere threads, you dread to think of what you look like right now. Your eyes hurt to open, swollen from crying and your nose must be tinted red from how hard it was pressed into the jumper below. 

You try to speak, to apologise for your outburst, but only a croak escapes before you stop, throat tender from use. Flavy shushes you, moving the hand from the back of your head to make a grabbing motion to Esteban who moves a glass of water into her grasp. 

You welcome it greedily, taking gulp after gulp until it’s left empty. You feel her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back and sigh, pulling yourself partially from her grasp. Taking a moment to look between her and Esteban, you wince at the pity on their faces. 

“So… that was embarrassing.” Laughing at Flavy’s noise of indignance, you sigh. It must be close to six in the morning at this point and you know Esteban will be tired after driving up from the French Riviera so early. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m exhausted and judging from the way Este is swaying on his feet, you guys are too. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. All that crying’s wiped me out.” 

Esteban grabs the blanket from your shoulders, stretching out as much as possible on the sofa. “I’m quite comfy here. You and Flavy take the bed.”

You try to argue but Flavy pulls you up from the armchair. “As stubborn as you are, he is ten times more stubborn. It’s easier to accept defeat than argue, take it from someone with experience.” She nudges your hip with her own, trying to lighten your mood. 

“But…” you gesture to Esteban’s legs, currently half hanging off the end of the sofa.

Esteban wiggles his toes in response, drawing them in so they rest on the edge of the sofa. “I’m fine, really, Y/N. Flavy gives the best post cry hugs so it would be cruel to separate the two of you right now.”

Admitting defeat, you offer him another pillow from the armchair, watching as he rises from the sofa to give Flavy a soft goodnight kiss before settling into his bed for the night. Despite the earlier affection nearly tipping you over the edge, you can’t help but smile softly. They were good to each other, so sweetly in love you can’t help but whistle teasingly as Flavy dragged you to the bedroom, cheeks ablaze under the glimpse of sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Esteban had left a few hours later, having to get to Alpine for testing. You wince as he hobbles out the door, one hand supporting his back. Saying a silent apology to Bruno, you and Flavy laze about the flat, a text sent out to the girl’s groupchat for anyone to come join. Both Lily’s and Carmen reply quickly, already dragging their overnight bags out of their closets. 

Your phone remains on the side, still silent with not even a read receipt from Max after you’d asked for his whereabouts. Huffing at his inability to communicate like an adult, you push him to the back of your mind, enjoying having your girls around you. 

A few chick flicks and a lot of Mojito’s later, the five of you spread out across the sofa and armchair, Carmen currently propping you up as she braids strands of your hair gently. 

Your eyes catch Flavy’s and you sigh, knowing what is about to come. 

“So… you can probably tell I’ve been a bit off recently. Wait, one sec.” You grab your phone, opening up a facetime call and patching in Kika, Heidi and Rebecca. Once the three girls are all facing you on the screen, you set them up on a vase facing the room. “There we go, I feel like I should have all my girls here for this. So, I’ve obviously been a bit weird recently. Well, more than recently, for the past few years I think. I know you’ve all seen the tweet about Charles and Max from a while back and I asked Charles about what had happened.” 

Dragging the sleeves of your jumper over your hands, you avoid eye contact with the girls around you and on the phone. “Charles asked Max where I was since a bunch of you were out with the guys and Max said he didn’t know and didn’t care.” A chorus of shocked gasps and affronted admissions of anger fly through the air. “I kind of knew that’s what he was thinking but to hear it come from someone else is another thing. Girls…” Gulping down a rising sob, you look to Flavy, making out her outline through teary eyes. “I think, no I know, it’s over. It has been for a while, I’ve just been too scared to accept it.” 

Your voice cracks around the edges of your final sentence, inviting the girls in the room to crowd around you, hands reaching out to grab wherever they could. You can hear the girls on the phone murmuring in low tones, voices drowned out by the ones closest to you. 

Kika’s voice calls out through tinny speakers. “Y/N, Pierre’s booking me a flight right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can!”

Heidi joins in. “I’ve already told Danny to drop me off, we’ll be 20 minutes max.”

Rebecca is silent for a moment longer before she patches back in. “I have a schedule in France next week but Carlos is looking at hotels for me to stay in so I can come to Monaco tomorrow, I’ll let you know about times.”

Despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, you smile widely. If all else fails, at least you have your girls. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 flavy.barla, carmenmmundt, lilynzeimer, lilymhe liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 580,918 others

y/nstagram told carmen to bring pastries and she brings a whole ass cake? she knows the way to my heart

fan y/n again i ask, which kitty is that? ↳ y/nstagram jimmy! if you wanna know the difference, jimmy is bigger and also a lil darker than sassy ♥️

lilymhe what did you put in those mojitos? i'm sozzled at 3pm... ↳ y/nstagram i may have been a bit heavy handed with the vodka sorry babygirl x

flavy.barla pls come hold my hand i'm feeling fragile rn ↳ y/nstagram i am literally ten steps away i'll be there in a second you big baby ♥️

fan i love y/n and her girlfriends ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alcohol in the afternoon i dont think she's coping with that lestappen tweet ↳ fan maybe this was preplanned? we don't know her like that

fan no max like i am down on my knees ↳ fan lads i think we have to accept it may be over ↳ fan i hope y/n gets the cats ↳ fan those are max's babies watch your tone ↳ fan he couldn't even like the pic of one of his babies!!!!! >:(

fan wag meet ups are always my fave just live together already ↳ y/nstagram if i could pry my girls from those gremlin men, we would 100% have a commune ↳ lilynzeimer UM??? we are so doing that??? ↳ francisca.c.gomes omg can i come too? ↳ pierregasly we literally just bought a flat together? ↳ francisca.c.gomes i'm speaking to my wife hush ↳ pierregasly god give me STRENGTH. ↳ lilymhe y/n gf's commune Open ↳ alex_albon ???? our 23782 pets may disagree ↳ y/nstagram they're coming too wdym ↳ alex_albon you can't have my girl AND my pets??? thats just greedy y/n ↳ lilymhe we can share custody ↳ alex_albon STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE LEAVING ME ↳ y/nstagram she just wants an upgrade, something williams could do with too ↳ alex_albon you're actually evil ↳ y/nstagram logansargeant logie bear your teammates being mean to your mum ↳ logansargeant alex leave my mom alone or i'll run you off the track ↳ alex_albon not if williams give me your car again. ↳ y/nstagram alex apologise RIGHT NOW ↳ alex_albon HE SAID HE'D HIT ME WITH HIS CAR??? ↳ logansargeant :((( that was really mean alex ↳ y/nstagram alex so help me i will take your girl, your pets AND your manhood ↳ alex_albon 🙄 i'm sorry logan... ↳ logansargeant :))))) ↳ fan what just happened ↳ fan idk and at this point i'm too scared to ask

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

y/npriv uploaded to their story

(caption: the way all my girls have sent this to me, i love you guys)

alex_albon ... given our last conversation i am hiding from lily ↳ y/nstagram it's not lily you need to watch out for ↳ alex_albon i am being THREATENED by my gf's gf i'm fuming ↳ y/nstagram it was more like a promise :)

logansargeant here for you whenever y/n!! i'm not too sure what's going on but we all love you ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram logie 🥹 thank you angel ! ❤️

landonorris he won't get off my fucking couch. please come and get your boyfriend before i do something violent ↳ y/nstagram he's a big boy, he can come back whenever he wants.

kevinmagnussen i can always hit him with my car if needed ↳ y/nstagram KEVIN NO ↳ kevinmagnussen 🙄 you're no fun y/n

nicohulkenberg can kevin hit him with his car ↳ y/nstagram nico not you too ... no hitting max with a car !!!!!!!!!! ↳ nicohulkenberg boooooring

estebanocon brazil 2018 may be resolved but i'll still crash into him again... just say the word ↳ y/nstagram why does everyone wanna hit him with their cars? 😭 esteban No! ↳ estebanocon i wont on purpose but if we meet on a free practice he's getting put in the barriers. ↳ estebanocon i know we haven't spoken in person much but flavy loves you (more than me admittedly) and so i also care about you. ↳ y/nstagram 🥹 big softie. ↳ y/nstagram but thank you esteban, it means a lot :)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Max texts you a few hours later to let you know he would be coming back soon. Ushering the girls out of your flat, they all call over one another to let them know the moment you want them to come back. 

The only issue is that you weren’t sure you would have an apartment for them to come back to after the conversation you’re about to have. Max wasn’t a cruel man despite everything, he would never leave you without a home, but you weren’t sure you would want to stay here afterwards.

Straightening up the blankets on the back of the sofa and putting the last few remaining glasses into the dishwasher, you pace around the flat briskly. The cats seem to sense your nervousness, slinking in and out of your legs as Jimmy nibbles lightly against your ankle when you finally come to a stop by the kitchen counter. 

You hear Max turn his key in the lock, the sound of the door opening almost hesitantly. At least he hadn’t forgotten his keys this time. “Y/N?” 

Tears well in your eyes, trying to remember the last time he’d said your name in a tone that wasn’t angry or bored. You take one deep breath, then another, trailing through to the living room where Max stood, still in the clothes he’d left in the night before. 

“We need to talk, Max.” 

He nods slowly, dropping his keys on the table as he perches on the edge of the sofa, as if he was a guest in his own house. You take a seat on the armchair again, the furniture slowly becoming a comfort piece for you. 

You want to be standoffish, to unleash hell so you can give him even a small piece of how you’ve been feeling these past few months or years but looking at how Max is picking at the edges of his nails, the way he’s chewing on his lower lip, you sigh. Above everything, he’s still your boyfriend. The man you chose to spend 7 years with and hopefully you can both be mature about the situation at hand. 

Max goes to speak but you hold a hand up, wanting to get everything off your chest. “Please, can I just go first?”

He nods again, hands wringing against one another from where they rest on his lap. One hand comes to scratch nervously at the stubble on his chin, a tell tale sign that he’s nervous. 

“I’m sure you already know what I’m going to say. We…” You take a moment to wipe away a stray tear from your cheek, swallowing harshly to try and stop the rising cries. “We’re over. And I think you and I know we have been for a long time. I don’t know when exactly, but we haven’t been happy for years. I kept thinking it was just because the honeymoon phase was over and we would find our way around all the arguments but we’ve become strangers. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.” 

The tears come thick and fast now, your hands wiping viciously against your cheeks to try and clear them. Neither of you are looking at each other but you can tell Max is crying too, eyes trained on the way his clasped hands shake slightly.

“We live together, go to most of your races together, sleep in the same bed and yet to me, you’re a ghost. I can’t remember the last time we went on a date, the last time we were even remotely intimate or even the last time we were genuinely happy. I’m fucking miserable, Max. I don’t wanna do this anymore. I love you, and I always will but I can’t be with you, it’s killing me.”

You glance up at Max’s face, the way the tears slide silently down his cheeks and his lower lip trembles from where it’s tucked between his teeth. The ache in your chest grows stronger, pin pricks of pain where the sadness digs its claws deep into the cracks of your heart, ripping the two halves apart cruelly. 

Max swallows, unlatches his lip from his teeth and looks up to meet your tearful eyes. “I know. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I love you even if I don’t show it but I don’t think I’m in love with you and I don’t think you’re in love with me either.” He smiles sadly, eyes tracking your face as you nod in agreement. “

“But I haven’t been fair to you, I’ve blown you off time after time, I ran away to fucking Milton Keynes and left you alone in a country that isn’t your home and left you to try and keep this shitshow running. You deserve to be happy, and I know I can’t give that to you anymore.”

He reaches out to rest one shaking hand on top of yours. Despite the two of you currently being mid break up, you appreciate the show of affection, turning your hand in his grip so you can loosely link your fingers. 

He sighs, tightening his grip on you. “I think I was trying to protect myself, to pretend none of this was happening and we were still the same Max and Y/N from 2018. All I can say is there will always be a part of me that loves you, and an even bigger part that will always be sorry for how I’ve treated you. I hope one day we can look back on the earlier years fondly and maybe you can find it in your heart to forgive me, even if I don’t deserve it.”

A small sob escapes you at the broken look on Max’s face. You were so wrapped up in how he was treating you that you never took a moment to think of how he was feeling. Of course, it doesn’t validate his actions, but imagining how hurt he must have also felt in those moments deepens the claws in your chest. 

“Maxie, you’re not a bad person. We’ve just been in a bad situation. Yes, you have hurt me much more than I care to admit but I can see that deep down, you’re hurting too. I don’t blame you for how you chose to try and protect yourself. Relationships fail and people fall apart, I just wish it hadn’t taken us so long to finally bite the bullet.”

He nods solemnly, hand still grasped in yours. You know you need to bring up Charles, even if it breaks the sorrowful peace surrounding the two of you right now. Looking at Max silently berating himself in his head, you know it’s time to come clean. He may have treated you badly, but you’re the one who fell for someone else, even if you didn’t realise until last night. 

“I have to be truthful. I want to preface by saying I would never, ever cheat on you but Charles… I think…” I like him. The unspoken words settle like thick smoke in your lungs, burning and smouldering. Tendrils crawl up your throat and settle heavy on your tongue, choking you in a layer of uncertainty and fear.

“I know. Me and Charles actually had an argument about it back in 2020, I think? I could see he liked you and it pissed me off, so we fought. Nothing physical but I didn’t exactly pull my punches verbally. I also know you had no idea you liked him too until recently.” He eyes you in a jestful manner, the teasing gesture a warm balm across your aching heart. “You’ve always put your everything into this relationship, even when you were the only one to do so. I’m not mad, I promise.”

He smiles softly at you, squeezing your hand one last time before pulling his back to rest on his lap again. This is the Max you wished to see. The Max you fell in love with. It just stings knowing it took the two of you breaking up for this Max to show himself to you once more.  

You try to crack a joke to lighten the mood. “2018 Max would never have been this calm in a breakup.” 

“2018 Max wouldn’t have had a reason to.” His tone is solemn but his eyes are warm, most likely remembering how the two of you were at the beginning of your relationship. 

He sighs, rubbing his hands against his thighs before standing. “You can stay here. The flat is fully paid off and I can easily find somewhere else. I’m gonna go stay at a hotel, I think Lando would beat me over the head with a padel racket if I tried to go back to his.”

You laugh, the sound warbled in your throat. “You don’t have to do that, Max. This is your home too.” It stings, reminding yourself that these 4 walls were still his too. 

He shakes his head, picking at the loose thread of his jeans. “This has been more your home than mine these last few years. It would be nice to get a fresh start. I mean, if you want to do that too, you can always sell this place and find somewhere new?”

Taking in the living room, you take a moment to contemplate. Despite the loneliness you were shrouded in here, it was your home. The dents in the walls from you moving furniture at 3 in the morning, the flaked paint from Jimmy scratching up the walls instead of their scratching post, the little bits and pieces you had collected over the years to make the place seem more cosy. 

“I think I’ll stay. I like it and there are plenty of good memories here.” You nod towards him, flashes of the younger version of you two running through the rooms, a game of chase he would always win. 

Chuckling, he moves into the bedroom, most likely to pack a suitcase. You remain seated, welcoming Sassy who curls up tightly in your lap, her purrs calming your erratic heart. 

Max emerges 5 minutes laters, packed suitcase wheeled alongside him. You eye it briefly before turning back to look up at him. “Didn’t take you long.”

He shrugs, gesturing to the bedroom behind him. “Mostly Red Bull t-shirts and skinny jeans in there, it’s not like I wear much else.”

The two of you share a laugh, recalling the amount of times you would beg him to just wear a plain shirt instead of one of those logo ridden nightmares. 

He shuffles awkwardly on his feet before tucking his hands into his pockets. “Now that we’ve broken up, d’ya think I can be added to your private instagram? Been dying to know what’s on there.”

You chuckle, slightly surprised that he knows about your private instagram. “And how did you find out about my best kept secret?”

He shrugs, grinning slightly. “Saw it on Lando’s phone once. He refused to show me it on the grounds that you would beat him up, which I don’t doubt. I understand if you don’t want me on there, but I think it would be funny to see the others reactions.”

Scoffing, you pull out your phone, gesturing for him to do the same. “You’re evil, but correct. Go on then, send me the request.”

You accept his follow request, watching as he pockets the phone immediately after. “I’ll look through it when I’m alone and can beat myself up over how shittily I’ve treated you.”

Levelling him with a look, you lock your phone. You have half a mind to delete some of the posts but know it wouldn’t help the situation. 

He leaves his suitcase by the door, coming over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry and I love you.”

You grin back at him, reaching up to squeeze his forearm. “I’m sorry and I love you too.”

You watch as he says goodbye to the cats, the two of them more interested in a toy on the floor, then he’s gone, the sound of the door closing echoing through the quiet apartment. 

Sending a quick text to the girls group chat, you settle back into the armchair, tears falling silently but a smile on your face. 

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liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.c.gomes and 25 others

y/npriv carmen brought over another cake, i'm gonna kiss her guys (also jsyk me and max broke up but it was amicable guys, pls don't hit him with your car)

iamrebeccad i'm just about to board my love, see you soon 💜 ↳ y/npriv see you soon becs 🩷

francisca.c.gomes y'all broke up? more like he broke, you up! ↳ y/npriv he is a multi millionaire 😭 ↳ francisca.c.gomes sending you enough money to make you one too x ↳ y/npriv you do that kiks xx

charles_leclerc sending you happy thoughts x ↳ y/npriv thank you charlie :) that's very nice of you ↳ landonorris ik he's foaming at the mouth right now ↳ charles_leclerc delete you rat. ↳ y/npriv ???? ↳ charles_leclerc nothing ignore that y/n :)

nicohulkenberg i feel like that caption is aimed at me... ↳ y/npriv you and half the bloody grid 😭 ↳ kevinmagnussen i'll get him when you're not looking ↳ y/npriv kevin i WILL tell louise don't try me kevin ↳ kevinmagnussen ... mean ↳ estebanocon ok i won't hit him with my car... again ↳ y/npriv flavy.barla you better hold him to that ↳ flavy.barla trust me he knows not to get on my bad side ↳ estebanocon i am terrified of her ↳ y/npriv good ↳ flavy.barla good

maxverstappen1 why is everyone threatening to hit me with their car? ↳ lilymhe y/npriv what is he doing here ↳ y/npriv 🤷🏼‍♀️ amicable break up = add to the priv ↳ y/npriv and maybe i thrive on chaos ↳ maxverstappen1 looking through your posts maybe they should hit me with their car ↳ y/npriv hey none of that max. ↳ kevinmagnussen i have permission! ↳ y/npriv KEVIN thats it logjorup come get your husband ↳ logjorup kevin no we talked about this. ↳ kevinmagnussen i can't have shit.

georgerussell63 please dont kiss my girlfriend she'll leave me ↳ y/npriv too late x ↳ georgerussell63 carmenmmundt ??? ↳ carmenmmundt what happens in y/ns flat stays in y/ns flat (we got married last year) ↳ georgerussell63 cant even say im shocked ↳ lilymhe i officiated it :) ↳ georgerussell63 didn't think you'd want anyone snatching your gf ↳ lilymhe bold to assume carmen didn't officiate mine and y/ns marriage right after ↳ georgerussell63 bigamist ↳ y/npriv and proud x

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The girls had come round soon after, Heidi in tow, mentioning how they’d been camping in the cafe down the street. 

You think about the kind lady there and how you’re going to break the news that she won’t see you and Max together anymore. She often joked about the two of you getting married and bringing little ones around to see her. You think she’ll be more heartbroken about the situation than you and Max. 

Rebecca and Kika had come round soon after, the boys having managed to book a car service between the two of them as the girls’ flights landed at similar times. 

Your phone had been pinging non stop, text after text from drivers and their partners coming in sending their condolences for you and Max. You’d replied to the first few, soon feeling overwhelmed and hiding the phone underneath one of the sofa pillows, ignoring the never ending buzz. 

One of the first to text you privately had been Charles, short and sweet and to the point. 

Hi Y/N. I really am sorry to hear that you and Max broke up. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.

You’d sent back a generic reply, not wanting to think for too long about the man who had unknowingly been a catalyst to the break up. 

Heidi appears next to you on the armchair, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Dragging your eyes away from the buzzing pillow, you smile at her softly. 

“What’s going on up there?” Using the hand slung around your shoulder, she taps twice against your temple. The interaction draws the attention of the other girls, all conversations muting down to listen to your response. 

Sighing, you shuffle so Heidi can sit more comfortably beside you. “I don’t know. I’m sad, y’know, me and Max were together a long time. But I’m also relieved? It sounds so horrible to say but I didn’t realise just how much this whole situation was weighing on me until it was over.”

Shuffling in your spot, you take a quick sip of the margherita Carmen had made you. “Like, I love him and I always will but at the same time, I’m glad we ended it amicably. You hear so many horror stories of break ups being shouting matches and accusations flying around but it was like saying goodbye to an, albeit distant, friend. We both admitted to where we’d gone wrong and we apologised. It was… nice? I’m not sure if that’s the best way to describe a break up but honestly, I don’t know how else to explain.” 

Heidi hums, the girls all sitting round in contemplative silence. Kika takes a quick sip of her drink, setting it down on the floor. “So, we all know Max didn’t treat you the best towards the end.” She tuts as you go to interrupt her. “I’m not going to go on an anti-Max rant, don’t worry. But you said where you’d both gone wrong. If you don’t mind me asking, where do you think you messed up?”

Chewing on your lower lip, you glance across at Flavy, who gives you an encouraging nod. 

“Well, I fell for someone else.” You wince, bracing for impact as the girls digest what you just said. 

Lily looks up from where her and the younger Lily are entangled on the sofa. “Charles?”

Shocked, you look at the other girls. None of them are looking at you in disdain, only quiet observation. 

“Was it that obvious?”

Lily shakes her head, pulling herself up to sit normally on the sofa. “Not obvious, but there were signs. We’re not gonna shame you or anything.” She pauses, waiting for the other girls to agree. The room is filled with noises of confirmation. “I mean, it was blatantly obvious Charles fancied you but it’s only been the last… 6 months or so that I thought there may be a chance you liked him back.”

Groaning, you sink back into the soft cushions, pulling your shirt up to hide your face. “I’m a horrible person.”

A hand reaches out and pulls the top from your grip gently. You look down and see Rebecca giving you a reassuring smile, hand disentangling from your shirt to grab your hand and give it a quick squeeze. “You’re not. Trust me, we wouldn’t all be here if we thought that. You were in a tough situation, it’s not like you and Max were going anywhere,” she winces at her own bluntness, startling a chuckle from you. 

“You deserve to be happy, and the relationship you were in wasn’t giving you that. Wanting to be with someone who makes you happy doesn’t make you a horrible person, it makes you human.” She squeezes your hand once more before pulling away, reaching for her drink on the floor. 

Looking around, you take a second to let her words sink in. You do deserve happiness, it's just unfortunate that happiness wasn’t with Max. “So, when did you all figure out Charles liked me? Because none of you seemed shocked when Lily mentioned him.” 

Lily speaks up first. “I’ll go first. It was 2019 and Max and Charles were 1-2 in Spielberg. I watched the podium with Alex below since, y’know, he was Red Bull adjacent, and neither Max nor Charles could take their eyes off you. At first, I thought Charles was looking towards the Ferrari staff, but then I noticed his eyes followed you when you walked away with the Red Bull team.”

Kika joins next, hand waving around her cocktail glass. “Mine was similar, it was Jeddah 2022. Ferrari had a 2-3, yet Charles was nowhere to be found after the celebrations. Pierre went to go find him to congratulate him and I followed. He was sat in the paddock, his phone open on your instagram. He kept glancing between it and you and Max who were celebrating his 7 millionth win.” 

You tut, reaching out to knock her lightly with your foot. She grabs your ankle, squeezing once before letting go, joining you in laughter. 

Heidi, younger Lily, Rebecca, Flavy and Carmen follow in suit, all giving examples of when Charles was simply ‘enamoured’, Carmen’s phrasing, with you. You think back to each moment they mention, trying to remember if you had realised the same thing as them at the time. 

In the earlier years, you hadn’t, too wrapped up in Max. But when Rebecca mentions a moment last year when Charles had accidentally spilled hot coffee over himself when you’d shown up in a slightly low cut dress, the recognition starts to fall into place. 

You remember rushing over to him, grabbing a napkin and wetting it before pressing it to his hand. At the time, you thought nothing of the way he blushed deep red and avoided eye contact, eyes remaining on the carpet below. But now, you smile softly, remembering how he had stumbled over a compliment for you before rushing away to the medic tent. 

The girls let you take a moment to think through what they had said, small conversations starting between them, the murmurs filling the warm air of your apartment. Heidi remained quiet next to you, hand running through the ends of your hair gently. 

Sending her an appreciative glance, you reach under the now silent cushion, opening yours and Charles’ text thread. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her nod reassuringly. 

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a/n: part 3 is here! i know i said this would be the final part but i felt that it needs a part 4 to really wrap everything up, sorry and thank you all for being so patient! any spelling mistakes shh ignore them i don't have a beta reader and if i had to reread my own writing one more time i was going to cry! let me know if you would like to be added / removed from the taglist <3

taglist: @veryicyandspicey @oliviarodrigostan13 @fyegyall @inevesgf @brakingboundaries @boywondrgrayson @pand-de-pandora-blog @emily-b @barcelonaloverf1life @entr4p3 @asparklysoul @elia-the-bibliophile @ruebennett89 @sheslikeacurse @angywritesstuff @honethatty12 @hs-is-loml @krishasworld @velentine @weekendlusting @vintagefucksstuff @yourfreezing-hands @sinofwriting @cmleitora @ladyoflynx @zvrjkb @anuksunamon @sarahedwards16 @janeh22 @awritingtree @reguluscrystals @headinthecloudssblog @ralshatos @formulaal @daisyfreecs @acesofspadess @mehrmonga @velentine @norrisainz33 @honethatty12 @ananyasr1bughead @asparklysoul @slutforpablogavi @tomatana @cmleitora @forevercaffeinated-lee @myescapefromthislife @cluvsya @dorothea47 @santanasaintmendes @blossomlilly @saachiep81 @l-sofiamia-l

[jackhues]

YOU'RE NOT MY FAVOURITE - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART SIX ]

in which y/n hamilton is trying to fight the menace allegations (japan24)

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y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, kikacgomes, charles_leclerc & others

y/nhamilton: last week at a glance

pinned y/nhamilton: guys nico is fine, he told me himself. -> user: but did he lie to you? -> y/nhamilton: he wouldn't dare

user: omgg the cherry blossoms are so pretty

user: who'd you go bumper cars with? -> y/nhamilton: mick, george, logan, and oscar!

carlossainz55: 🌻🌻 -> y/nhamilton: 🌼🌼

maxverstappen1: no podium pics? this is the second time. i'd like to file a complaint -> y/nhamilton: hello mr. verstappen. to file a complaint, we have a procedure. step one: create a written statement declaring sir lewis hamilton as the 2021 world champion and forsake that title. we will be in contact with you after completion of that step -> user: oh my god girl, get over it. max won fair and square -> maxverstappen1: get off of her page. you're not going to get involved in something that is clearly a joke, something that's been going on for years, and that we're both okay with. -> y/nhamilton: go off mad max

charles_leclerc: hey i was dotd! why am i not up there? -> y/nhamilton: sharl, do you see a single face up there? this is a faceless post -> charlec_leclerc: i'd like to file a complaint -> y/nhamilton: your complaint is noted, balled up, and thrown into the trash -> charles_leclerc: @/lewishamilton your little menace is bullying me again -> lewishamilton: i warned all of you. no one listened to me -> pierregasly: seb said you were exaggerating -> sebastianvettel: is it bad that i wanted my pseudo child to make friends? -> y/nhamilton: why are you all talking about me like i'm some menace who's sole purpose is to wreak havoc? -> charles_leclerc: you are -> pierregasly: you are -> alex_albon: you are -> oscarpiastri: you are -> y/nhamilton: you're all pricks. this is why logan and max are my favs -> logansargeant: thanks broski -> landonorris: HEY! I'M NOT BULLYING YOU -> y/nhamilton: you're also not giving my bracelet back -> landonorris: ... fair

user: love when there's driver lore in the comments

user: oh what i'd give to be y/n hamilton

olliebearman: side eying the mercedes gear slide -> y/nhamilton: my dad still drives for them!! -> olliebearman: mhm okay... -> kimi.antonelli: you should be side eyeing the ferrari car slide -> y/nhamilton: CARLOS PHOTOBOMBED ME! NOT MY FAULT

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NOTE: sorry for the long wait, i've got exams going on right now :( don't forget to like + reblog <3

[strawberrysainz]

racing in the street. charles leclerc.

“ it’s a dream that has surpassed many others in both of your lives. to win the monaco grand prix - it had evaded him for many years. this year felt different. ”

charles leclerc x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive themes.

this is a love letter to his win - years and years in the making. ❤️‍🔥

The first time you had known Charles would win in Monaco one day was when you were both seven, in the back of his dad’s car on the way to a friend’s party.

You had passed Mirabeau, and Charles had pointed out the red and white on the ground as you whizzed past.

“One day if I get to-“

“When,” his father had corrected from the front, and Charles had rolled his eyes playfully.

“-when I get to Formula 1, this is going to be very cool to pass by,”

You had nodded briefly - a seven year old’s attention span could only focus on something abstract for so long - and you had paused. “You can win it, right Cha?”

He had shrugged modestly. It was terribly annoying how modest he had been, even back then.

“You can. You win everything you want to win.” You were certain of this, even so many years ago.

Hervé had laughed loudly and you had blushed crimson.

Charles had smiled then, looking out the window, eyes shining with the hope of it all. The look in his eyes had startled you, one of wisdom only an adult could have.

One day in 2017 Lorenzo called you and Charles had staggered out of the hotel bathroom, face white. He had sat there next to you on the bed.

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I told him a few weeks ago I got to F1. So he would be happy knowing I achieved our dream. And I haven’t.”

Tears burned in your eyes.

He had fallen into your embrace, sobs shaking his whole body.

Standing on the top step in Baku three days later, you had stood there below him, crying, his mother on the phone.

You were eating sushi you’d ordered in at his place a few months later, and he’d had a sneakily happy look on his face the whole day.

“What’s up with you?” You’d said with a mouth full of california roll.

“Sauber is giving me a seat for next year.”

You’d broken a glass jumping up and soy sauce had stained both of your shirts as you screamed.

That first Monaco race day in 2018 had been a magical affair, up until the sixth-last lap, when his brakes had failed, spinning him into Brendan Hartley as they approached the Nouvelle Chicane.

You had winced in the garage, and he’d been dejected when he approached you a few hours afterward.

You’d thought of that day passing Mirabeau when you saw him. “Was it as cool as you thought doing it in F1?” You’d said quietly.

Tears had shone in his eyes. “I got to race it. Dad knew I could race it in F1.”

You had nearly choked months later when he’d told you over a glass of wine dipping your toes in the sea that he’d been called by Ferrari.

Shivers had run through you as you thought of Jules, and of Hervé. All they all had ever wanted.

“You know, your dad would have not been prouder. He would have dragged you to Rampoldi to celebrate.”

“Shall we go?” He had asked, and you’d both made the trip back to Monte-Carlo and when you phoned the restaurant in the back of the Uber, they’d said it was full with a little bit of regret.

But when they’d heard Charles was going to be there - oh, they’d all loved him from the beginning - they’d gotten a table for you both near closing time, when everyone was dispersing.

You’d both laughed and cried over the plates of his dad’s favourite ravioli.

Monaco had felt different in 2019, more eyes on him.

He’d started P15. Then on lap 16 - the irony - his puncture due to contact had called him back to the garage.

Pure grief had decorated his face as he got out of the car, shaking his head. Finding you after the Grand Prix, you saw the light dimming from his eyes and gave him the biggest hug you could.

That night you’d both cycled back to his place and sat all night in his kitchen, the dim light doing little to hide his sadness.

2021 was even worse; he’d had no chance to even start, and this time he was angry.

You hadn’t even seen him and had gone to bed when he called up at 2am, drunk, asking for a lift home.

You had gone in your pajama shorts and glasses, and he had sat in the back seat and asked why he always had worser luck here than anywhere else.

You didn’t really have an answer. “I just know one day it’s going to work out for you,” you said softly.

2022 had been spent in his friend’s apartment, watching from their balcony with a cocktail in hand, watching his girlfriend smile on the television.

You’d watched on as disaster had struck, Ferrari making an awful call, sacrificing his P1 for a measly P4.

You’d seen him two days later, out for breakfast, and he had just sighed. “Fucking stupid,” he’d murmured. “I think we have to accept I might never get this.”

That belief of your seven year old self was still strong, cemented in your soul when you shook your head.

In 2023, he’d just been annoyed at sixth place once he came back from the stewards. You’d left the paddock and he’d just gone home, bidding you a good night. As you walked to your apartment, you’d thought of all the nights as teenagers racing on bicycles in the streets.

Monaco would love him back as much as he did it one day. You knew it - deep down, he knew it too.

Well, Saturday in Monaco this year had felt different. He’d oozed confidence all weekend. And you felt different about him.

After he’d broken up with his girlfriend, all you’d been thinking about was him. He had been making unnecessary trips to see you, inviting you to more races than usual.

It had culminated a few months ago in Miami, where things were just different; he had come on the podium, and you had kissed his cheek when you saw him an hour later. You swore he almost moved his face to meet your lips.

You’d both spent the night partying with Lando, the drinks making you both different, dancing sensually, eyes dark. He had kissed your neck, and you’d both realised what the hell you were doing, moving back.

The next time you saw him you both pretended it had never happened.

You hadn’t seen him again until last Sunday, at your place. He’d come for your birthday dinner, handing you a present and flowers with two kisses to your cheeks. You’d blushed amongst all your friends, champagne flowing.

On Wednesday night after a long day of press, he’d come over again. “I have a feeling about the race this year.” You nodded, silently inviting him to expand.

“It feels different. Like I can definitely do it.”

You smiled. “I know you can do it. And you’ve been really strong this year.”

“I was cycling last month through Mirabeau and I really remembered one day when we were walking around there or driving when we were young and you told me you knew I could win.”

“It was when we were driving with your dad.” He’d let out a little sigh.

“I can do it this year for him. And me and Jules and you.”

You’d gotten emotional all of sudden. “I know you can do it, Cha. I’ve always known.”

He hugged you, his body soft and warm against yours in the dark room. You’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Well, he’d got on pole on Saturday, reinforcing his determination and confidence. You’d seen how calm and collected he looked and it had been noticed by nearly everyone. You’d given him a fist bump and he’d grabbed you, hugging you, the smell of his sweat a testament to how badly he wanted it.

You’d gone home after a dinner with the Leclercs (minus him, he had sponsorship engagements to fulfill) and there was the quiet knowledge amongst all of them that this was the year.

Your mom had phoned on Sunday morning, and you spoke about your lives, then about Charles. “I hope he knows how loved he is by all of us. And I know Hervé and Jules are watching on today with the utmost pride.”

You nodded. “I think he does know, mama.”

You had picked out a red dress, short and flowing to accommodate the welcome heat. As you did your makeup, you thought of all the years that had come before, previous versions of yourself that had wanted him so badly to win.

The entire race you’d had stubborn tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. The last two laps you could barely look, too emotional at the thought of even seeing this happen.

Joris had gently guided you up to look again in the room and you just knew Charles was crying too on that last lap. The thought of the little boy in the car staring out at these streets made you wonder how he must be feeling.

All these years of this dream.

He had crossed the finish line and you had erupted into tears, turning into Lorenzo’s chest to take a breath. Later, you’d seen the camera footage of your teary eyes and the glimmer of hope in them as you looked back.

Then everyone had run down to the podium and you were in the second row, all of his team in the front. You saw him jump in slow motion into the air from his car and saw the joy in his steps.

He had jumped into the roar, and didn’t manage to see you but you could tell he was looking. Then he’d done the post race interview and him talking about his dad made you burst out crying again.

Someone had found you and dragged you to the front of the barrier underneath the podium. You must have looked awful. As he walked to the cool down room he cast a look back and your eyes caught his for a fraction of a second before he disappeared.

You had used the five minutes to take big deep breaths, multiple hands grasping you.

Then he’d walked out onto the podium and you saw how Prince Albert had gripped him like a son, tears in his own eyes. And Charles had held up his flag, full of hopes and dreams.

And then you all sang the anthems and then he was given the trophy and you were taking videos and photos as if in a dream.

He’d not seen you again, scanning, but gave up when the attentions of everyone else were cast on him.

You hadn’t caught sight of him again until you were hanging around in the paddock, wondering. Your phone rang and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?”

He was breathless and you couldn’t hear him, really, over the sound of the wind.

“Wh-“

“I’m cycling home…”

You had snorted. “Alone?”

“Yeah.”

You had paused.

“I wanted to just think of all the years and moments I raced and rode these streets and prayed I would win here one day. It felt right.”

You had laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah… meet me at home? Then we go out?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He ended the call. You saw videos of him on TikTok later on the bike on speakerphone and he had grinned as the people drove past him.

You had stopped at your place first, freshening up, and grabbed a bag and a power bank and downed a shot of vodka (to ease the nerves). Putting on heels with the red dress this time, you ordered an Uber to his place. You had used your key to get in and music was blaring when you opened the door. He was shirtless, trying to find an appropriate one.

“Hi,” you smiled.

He had forgotten what he was doing to basically run over and hug you, the force of it nearly knocking you over.

You were in tears again when he pulled away. “Love you,” you whispered, and he smiled. “I’m so proud. I keep thinking of little you.”

“I could never be here without you throughout the years. Never. You have picked me up and glued me back together so many times.”

You let out a small sound of emotion.

“I thought so much of all of you the last laps. I couldn’t see I was so emotional.” He laughed.

“And just all the times you told me you just knew I could do it. And my dad. And Jules. And my mom and brothers. Oh, I want to cry even now!”

You laughed as he ran back to his room to get a shirt.

“But-” he called from the room- “now we have to party like crazy!”

The next morning, you woke up at Arthur’s apartment with a pounding headache and a few missed calls and texts.

Charles 🕺 4:37

Let me know if you got back okay?

Charles 🕺 5:13

I think I’m going home now

Charles 🕺 10:52

I’m going to come pick you up I think Arthur won’t wake until 3pm

You checked the time. 11:04. Getting up from the couch and groaning, you went to the bathroom and pulled your hair into a ponytail, trying to wipe the makeup and finding a disposable toothbrush in his drawer to brush your teeth and the stale smell of tequila away.

You heard his car horn outside and you pulled on your heels that had been thrown on the ground a few meters from the couch. Leaving and letting the door close quietly you walked down the stairs, wincing at every loud noise your high heels made.

He was in his car and thank God there was no one around because you looked crazy. “Hiii,” you said, and he handed you a pair of sunglasses you thought you lost (but clearly just left in his car).

“How’s the race winner doing?” You said, and slid into the seat.

“Incredible,” he said dramatically and his voice was raspy, nearly gone. You laughed and then grasped your head.

Coming out of your bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a crop top and sweatpants, he was making coffee for you both. Finding leftover pasta from Saturday night that Pascale had sent you home with, you heated it up and offered him some. He shook his head.

When you turned around from the microwave with the pasta in hand, he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. He set down the pasta, not breaking the kiss, and hoisted you onto the kitchen counter. You let him open you up, your body leaning into his. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hand rested underneath your shirt.

“You make me feel so lucky,” he whispered.

Your mouth fell open slightly. “Well, you deserve all of it.”

He did. He did.

omg i just started crying over this stupid fic for the third time. i feel like this encompasses all i feel for him. i hope you feel it. ❤️‍🔥

[undying-love]

Paul's grief over time: A Compilation

“During the session [in 1981] Paul fell into a lugubrious mood. He said, ‘I’ve just realized that John is gone. John’s gone. He’s dead and he is not coming back.’ And he looked completely dismayed, like shocked at something that had just hit him. ‘Well, it’s been a few weeks now.’ He said, ‘I know, Eric, but I’ve just realized." (Eric Stewart)

“It’s still weird even to say, ‘before he died’. I still can’t come to terms with that. I still don’t believe it. It’s like, you know, those dreams you have, where he’s alive; then you wake up and… 'Oh’.” (Paul, 1986)

"Occasionally, it wells up. Y'know, and I'm at home on the weekend suddenly and I start thinking about him or talking to the kids about him and I can't handle it." (Paul, 1987)

"Is there a record you like to put on just to hear John’s voice?" I ask Paul the next day. Paul looks startled. He fumbles. “Oh, uh. There’s so much of it. I hear it on the car radio when I’m driving.” No, that’s not what I mean", I persist. "Isn’t there a time when you just wish you could talk to John, when you’d like to hear his voice again?" For some reason, he instead responds to the original question.“Oh sure,” he says and looks a little taken aback. ‘Beautiful Boy". (1990)

"Also not obvious is that McCartney [for the Liverpool Oratorio] has penned a gorgeous black-spiritual-like piece for mezzo-soprano that intones the last words spoken to John Lennon as he lay dying of gunshot wounds in the back of a New York police car -- "Do you know who you are?" McCartney gets a bit choked up at one point when he reveals, "Not a day goes by when I don't think of John.” (1991)

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy. He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed." (Paul, 1995)

"Paul talked about John a a lot, but the strange thing was that it was in the present tense, “John says this" or "John thinks that. Very weird." (Peter Cox, 2006)

“John Lennon was shot dead in 1980. That totally knocked dad for six. I haven’t really spoken to him a lot about it because it is such a touchy subject." (James McCartney, 2013)

"It's very difficult for me and I, occasionally, will have thoughts and sort of say: "I don't know why I don't just break down crying every day? […] You know, I don't know how I would have dealt with it because I don't think I've dealt with it very well. In a way… I wouldn't be surprised if a psychiatrist would sort of find out that I'm slightly in denial, because it's too much." (Paul, 2020)

"Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can't get over the senseless act. I can't think about it. I'm sure it's some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it." (Paul, 2020)

"When I talked to Paul about John and when he missed John most, he couldn't answer me for a long time and his eyes teared up. And I asked him where he thinks about John and when John comes into his mind and he just … he lost it, he completely lost it." (Bob Spitz, 2021)

-------------------------------------------------

The following two are from the gossip website Datalounge, so they may or may not be true. Still interesting though:

"The one time I was ever actually in a room with Paul, zillion people between me and him (and no way I'm gonna bother him, all of us who travel in celeb circles have people we're fans of and all of us inexplicably try to hide it to seem "cooler"), he started talking loudly about himself and John, and how hard it was not to have him there. I remember him saying something along the lines of not a day passing that John's not still in it with him, but it's not like he can pick up a phone and say, "Hey, just needed to hear your voice today," and even when he got craggy responses, he still missed them. He misses it all, and it's bothering to him that he misses him more as time goes on -- it doesn't heal, he just learns new ways to bandage the wound."

“Since everyone is anonymous here, I guess I can give a bit of info I got from a female friend of mine who at one time worked as one of Paul’s assistants. [...] She does not know for certain if John and Paul were involved but she suspects it since to this day whenever John’s name is brought up he acts in her words ‘like a widow’ and he also addresses John in present tense. He would say things like, ‘John thinks that the music should be like this,’ and during his bitter divorce from Heather he was saying, ‘John says that this is getting nasty.’ Kind of creepy." (this one actually seems very intriguing because it sounds very similar to what Peter Cox said, about Paul often talking about John in the present tense, saying "John says.." or "John thinks...")

[spidermaninlove]

Are TZ Married?

I spot a yellow-diamond ring (at least five carats, maybe six), from Bulgari. “This is my splurge, my treat-myself,” she smiles. “I do get a little employee discount,” she laughs shyly. “It feels like it’s gonna be an heirloom, like one day I can give it to my grandchildren.”  -- Zendaya for British Vogue, October 2021 (Interview conducted on July 1, 2021).

According to a Bulgari representative, Z's yellow diamond ring is an "engagement ring."

Rewind to November 2017 when Z posted this to her Snapchat account:

Then she immediately followed up with this Snapchat post:

Z's fondness for yellow diamond engagement rings obviously predates 2021. So did she or didn't she buy the Bulgari yellow diamond engagement ring for herself? That is the question. After reading the following statement in her interview in the October 2021 issue of British Vogue, I have serious doubts.

In February 2021, when asked during an interview if Tom would settle down now, he said he would do. x Five months later, on July 2, 2021, Page Six confirmed Tom and Zendaya were a couple.

But Z preferred to keep her dating status private during her interview on July 1, 2021 with British Vogue -- the same day the paparazzi photographed them kissing:

...dating her IRL is, she insists, a tall order. The list of approvals is long – “my dad, my brothers, it’s a whole thing. Good luck to whoever wants to take that on,” she scoffs. Perhaps her Spider-Man co-star Tom Holland, who has long been rumoured to be her boyfriend, is up to the task? After all, the following day (July 2, 2021), photos appear of the pair kissing in a car after our lunch (on July 1, 2021)."

August 2021

TZ attended their friends' wedding in August 2021. While at the wedding reception, Z did not participate in the traditional bridal bouquet toss. She watched the toss from their nearby table and then shared a kiss with Tom after the bouquet was caught. x

On September 1, 2021, TZ finally acknowledged they are a couple via Tom's Instagram post.

In November 2021, Tom told GQ that he and Z will talk about their story and what it is when they're ready.

"This isn’t my story. It’s our story. And we’ll talk about what it is when we’re ready to talk about it together.”

In June 2023, during an interview with BuzzFeed, Tom said, "I'm locked up, so I'm happy and in love..." x

In July 2023, during a podcast with Jay Shetty, Tom stated, "My relationship is the thing I keep most sacred. I don't talk about it. I try my best to keep it as private as possible. We both feel very strongly that that is the healthiest way for us to move on as a couple." x

September 2023

Miss Nicaragua allegedly shared during a live that she had met TZ in Oakland and that she hopes Zendaya's marriage goes well (post blogged on September 18, 2023). Note: TZ were in Oakland August 25-26, 2023.

Three days later, on September 21, 2023, Darnell went live on Instagram to adamantly deny Zendaya is engaged.

If she's not engaged, is she married? 🤫

October 2023

Law and Darnell were on the bridal floor in Vera Wang's store in Beverly Hills on October 13, 2023. I believe it's safe to assume Z was there as well.

February 2024

During a BBC Radio 2 interview, Z stated that British people are her family now.

April 2024

In a Vogue article dated April 9, 2024, Z described her perfect future which includes a protected life with her family.

Speaking of a protected family life, TZ recently adopted a dog named Daphne from Protection Dogs Worldwide.

And speaking of dogs, Z left her beloved Noon with Tom in London while she went to California. Tom even took Noon to work at the Duke of York's Theatre several times while Z was far from home (pun intended) for a couple weeks during the months of June and July 2024.

Note: Tom recently posted Noon, along with Daphne, on his Instagram account. x

October 2024

In October 2024, Tom launched his non-alcoholic beer, BERO. One of the three BERO brews, Noon Wheat, is named after "Tom and Zendaya's dog, Noon" and the "cofounder's (Tom) dog, Noon". So Noon is no longer just Z's dog. Noon is TZ's dog. Noon is Tom's dog, too. Noon is their dog.

Tom considers himself Noon's dad. Both Tom and BERO posted for Noon's birthday calling him "My birthday boy" and "Tom's furry child," respectively.

April 2024

An Atlanta paparazzi posted this to his Instagram account and then deleted it.

And then he posted and deleted this the following week:

February & April 2024

Dom Holland attended Z's London premieres for both Dune 2 (February) and Challengers (April). Is this considered father-in-law behavior?

May 2024

According to Ashley Perez, her notary instructor "insinuated" TZ may have gotten a confidential (non-public) marriage license.

Note: Ashley attends a college near the Bay Area.

California Confidential Marriage License Requirements:

The participating parties must be at least 18 years old to apply for a confidential marriage license. ✅

There are no CA state or US residency requirements.  ✅

The couple must state to the notary or county clerk office that they have been living together, as husband and wife or partners ✅ - not as roommates - at the time they apply for the marriage license, and must sign an affidavit on the license attesting to living together. There is no time requirement as to how long the couple has lived together.

You are not required to get married in the county where you purchase the confidential marriage license; however, you must be married in California.  You must file the license in the county where it was purchased.  

No witnesses are required to be at the ceremony, AND no witnesses sign on the marriage license.

The marriage license is a confidential record and is registered at the County Clerk’s Office in the county where it was purchased. A notary public with special authorization may issue, sign, and file a confidential marriage license.

Secret, Civil, Private, and Traditional Weddings

It's not uncommon to have a civil wedding ceremony and then have a traditional or destination wedding at a later date. Celebrities Joey King, JLo, and Elizabeth Olsen have done it. Anya Taylor-Joy originally eloped in New Orleans in 2022 and then had a wedding in Italy the following year. Millie Bobby Brown had a private family wedding in May of this year and is in the process of planning a second wedding for family and friends. Robert Pattinson and Suki Waterhouse recently had a secret wedding ceremony. Beyoncé, Kerry Washington, and Margot Robbie had secret weddings as well. Did TZ have a civil/secret/private wedding ceremony and are they planning a traditional/second wedding in the future? If so, it wouldn't be the first time they've kept their relationship status a secret.

Disclaimer: The opinions stated in this blog post are for entertainment purposes only.

[patito-oward]

one of my favorite pieces of indycar lore is beadgate, also referred to as tubgate, and it is TRULY not talked about enough. in case any of you don’t know, here’s a deep dive into the lore.

to really get the full effect you have to rewind to may of 2021. for anyone who doesn’t know all of the drivers basically live in a lot together in motorhomes for the month of may. rossi returns to his bus one day to see that his golf cart had been put up on blocks, had the wheels taken off, and the wheels were now on top of his motorhome; see below:

so alex, because he’s the most predictable human alive, is furious. he’s determined to find out who did this and get revenge on them. eventually he breaks down sweet baby colton, who originally helped conor with the golf cart on blocks, and colton tells him it was conor.

alex had already narrowed it down to conor, but colton confirmed it. alex even overhears a call between conor and colton where conor is panicking thinking alex is onto them. then alex starts a deliberate plan to get him back and make his life hell. despite being very adamant that he had nothing to do with the golf cart conor is very careful because he knows revenge is coming.

throughout the next week and a half-ish alex tries everything to get conor back. conor is being very careful to lock his bus and car whenever he’s away, and he’s also stopped using his golf cart completely and hidden it somewhere at the speedway. alex is so dedicated to doing this that he finds out who conor was going on a date with that night (because conor was a bit of a whore before his girlfriend), dms the girl on instagram, and gets her in on this prank.

he basically asked her to keep an eye out for his motorhome keys in the car or on him, she says she doesn’t see him, but tells him where they went for dinner. rossi goes to this restaurant, convinces the valet to give him the keys to conor’s car and looks for the keys to his bus, they aren’t there. then, not willing to give up, he goes to conor’s house and breaks in, still can’t find the keys.

finally, he heads back to the speedway and decides he’ll fuck with his golf cart instead, but like i said, conor’s golf cart is MIA. rossi starts a search party for this golf cart, he has everyone he knows, including doug boles (president of ims and conor’s step dad), looking for this golf cart and they can not find it. he calls it off for 2021, but promises that he’s not done yet, and now has a whole year to plan his next prank.

a whole year goes by, it’s may 2022, and because conor is who he is he decides an inflatable hot tub is an absolute need for his motorhome.

he is so proud of himself for this thing and is showing it off to everyone, and the absolutely diabolical alex rossi sits back and laughs maniacally as everything falls into place.

alex does extensive research (as he does on most things) and finds out exactly how many orbeez it would take to fill the hot tub, and on tuesday morning of practice week he sneaks over to conor’s hot tub, and 4 hours later conor goes to show off his hot tub to someone and finds this:

conor is furious and on the hunt for who would’ve done this, he, wrongly, assumed that it was done monday night and therefore couldn’t be alex because alex was with him. the whole week goes by, and he still doesn’t know who it is, until the night of the victory banquet when alex drops this:

anyways this is my favorite thing ever hope you all enjoy as much as i do

[ploonets]

PEOPLE GET TO WAKE UP FEELING LIKE THIS EVERYDAY??????

my bfs family gave me a cpap machine and I am trying it out tonight for the first time

[justlikebart-allen]

saw a couple posts about today (Aug 9th) being Damian Wayne's birthday, but when I looked for a source I couldn't find one for the life of me. which of course sent me down a rabbit hole of batfam birthdays. so.

Official Birthdays

*official as in they appear in canon and seem to be the most popular amongst fans. a bunch of these knuckleheads have multiple birthdays.

Cassandra Cain was born on January 26th according to Batgirl (2000) #33, though in that same issue she celebrates it some time in June because fuck her dad.

Bruce Wayne was born of February 19th according to the Detective Comics #494 fan letters column. Or April 7th, if you're looking at Star Spangled Comics #91 (Golden Age), or October 7th in Legends of the Dark Knight (2021) #10. Feb 19th seems to be the one that's used most often.

Dick Grayson was born on "the first day of spring" (aka March 20th) according to Robin (1993) Annual #4, or November 11th according to the Super DC Calendar of 1976, or a week-ish before Halloween according to Secret Origins (1986) #50, or December 1st according to Young Justice (2011) #20. March 20th fits into the robin origin story though, so we're gonna go with that.

Alfred Pennyworth was born on April 8th according to the Super DC Calendar of 1976, or August 16th according to Injustice: Gods Among Us: Year Five #26 (side note: double colons in titles should be illegal). Neither of these are anywhere near real canon, but Injustice is supplementary material for a fighting game, and I'm always more inclined to go with a pure comics source. Plus this way he and Jason don't have to share.

Tim Drake was born on July 19th according to Robin (1993) #116. He's only got the one birthday and in that issue he totally forgot about it.

Jason Todd was born on August 16th according to Detective Comics #790. No information on when exactly his rebirth day is.

Barbara Gordon was born on September 23rd according to the Super DC Calendar of 1976. That's the only source we've got so that's what we're gonna use.

Unofficial Birthdays

Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne have never had their birthdays stated in canon, so most people have assigned them birthdays based on either their debut date (Duke) or some other criteria that is a mystery to me. Those dates (from what I have gathered) respectively are:

Steph: August 11th, Duke: August 13th, Damian: August 9th

WHY ARE THEY ALL AUGUST??? THAT'S 4 (or 5 if you count Alfred) BIRTHDAYS IN THE SPAN OF A WEEK! WHY DO THEY ALL HAVE TO BE LEOS???

anyway that's the fruits of my afternoon/evening. if anyone has corrections with sources or dc canonizes a birthday in a comic I'm not reading (which is most of them, my comics taste is stuck in the 90s/early 2000s), let me know.

[37sommz]

❁ : meeting myla . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff. ✼. wc: 5.3k.

historic silverstone brings more than just a 4th place finish. silverstone is a crossroads with myla button on one side and michaela's parents on the other.

✼. warnings: single dad!jenson, meeting the parents, meeting his daughter, small child?

✼. notes: this is the result of that poll i put out a few weeks ago. myla is the absolute cutest, i love her your honor. jenson and michaela have been together for about 7 months at this point. i don't think i made that clear lol.

000.⠀⠀JULY 17, 2021    ›    Silverstone, UK.

Michaela leaned against the garage wall, her heart still racing from the final qualifying lap. Her helmet was held tightly in her grasp, the visor reflecting the bustling Silverstone paddock. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself before facing the barrage of microphones and cameras that awaited her.

As she made her way over to the press pen, Beata quickly briefed her on McLaren's main press priorities for the race tomorrow. A reminder to keep quiet on the strategy, a recognition of the odds stacked against them despite her third-row start, and a quick wish of 'Buona fortuna' leaving her signature red lips.

Michaela nodded, a hint of exhaustion flashing in her eyes. She knew the drill. But for just a few more moments, she had more to think about than just the race. The journalists threw questions at her nonstop during their individual five minutes. She danced through each one with an ease she undoubtedly owed to her press officer. The usual questions about Lando were tucked in the flurry of questions about new upgrades and efficient wings. But she remained tight-lipped, knowing the drama that could unfold if she gave them anything to chew on.

As she answered the final journalist, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Jenson, "Great job today sweetheart, can't wait to see you tomorrow." A smile ghosted her lips, and she quickly pocketed the phone before it could betray her. The press didn't need to know about them just yet.

Dinner with her parents that night was a whirlwind of questions about the race, the team's strategies, and, inevitably, her love life. She had been dodging the latter for a while now, but her mother was never one to resist the tempting question. "So, Courtney told me she knows the identity of this mystery man you're dating," Miriam said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Is it time we met him?"

Michaela took a sip of her wine, the rich flavor doing little to ease her nerves. "Actually, it is about time, I guess," she began, setting her glass down. "He's someone you've both heard of."

Her parents exchanged a look that was a mix of excitement and concern. "Jenson Button," she announced, watching their expressions closely.

Her father, Tobias, took a moment to digest the information before speaking. "So I've raised both of my daughters to exclusively date Formula 1 drivers?" He said, his voice a mix of surprise and good-natured disbelief. Michaela rolled her eyes as he laughed at his own joke.

"But he was World Champion in what year?" Miriam finally managed to say, the shock on her face was a stark contrast to the shy smile on her daughter's.

Michaela rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "Mum, don't start with the age thing."

Tobias took a sip of his drink, his expression contemplative. "2009, Michaela was 10," he said, setting his cup down. Miriam turned to look at her husband with an air of disbelief. Her brown eyes were wide again as Tobias simply stared at his coffee mug.

"But that means..." Miriam began.

Michaela cut her off gently. "He's only 19 years older than me. It's not that big of a deal, really," she said, hoping to ease their concerns.

Tobias' gaze lifted from his wife, his expression serious. "It is a big deal, Mouse. The man's in his 40s, and he's seen a lot in his time. Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

Michaela's chest tightened. She knew her parents meant well, but she couldn't help feeling a spark of irritation. "Yes, Dad, I'm sure. We're both adults, and we care about each other."

Miriam reached across the table, her hand covering Michaela's. "We just don't want to see you hurt, or your career suffer because of a man," she said, her voice earnest.

Michaela nodded, her eyes flicking to her father's concerned face. "I know, Mum," she said, her voice soft. "But Jenson's different. He understands the sport, he understands the pressure I'm under." Michaela felt the tension in her neck and took a moment to compose herself before continuing. "We're just enjoying each other's company. It's good for me, good for him, good for my career."

Miriam leaned forward, her eyes sharp with disapproval. "But what happens when it's not just about fun anymore?" she asked, her voice gruff with concern. She huffed as she sat back in her seat, taking in Michaela's stubborn gaze.

Michaela sighed. "Look, I know he has a daughter, her name's Myla, and he has full custody," she said, her eyes darting between her parents. "And I'm not ready to be a mother right now, but Jenson's assured me that we're taking things slow."

Tobias' expression remained unchanged. "That's sweet, Mouse," he said, his voice softer. "But she's not just a part of the package. She's a whole new world to consider, Michaela. You're not just dating Jenson; you're dating his past, his future, his everything."

Michaela felt the weight of her father's words, but she wasn't ready to give in to their doubt. "I know, Dad," she replied, her voice firm. "But we're not rushing into anything. And if it's okay with you guys, I'd like you to meet him tomorrow."

Her parents exchanged a look, and she could see the unspoken conversation playing out between them. After a moment, Miriam spoke up. "We'd love to meet him, darling. We're here to support you, whatever happens," she said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Michaela's shoulders relaxed slightly at her mother's words. "Thank you, Mum, I appreciate you guys trying," she said, smiling genuinely. "He's actually covering the race for Sky Sports tomorrow, so he'll be around."

Tobias nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on his daughter. "Just remember, Mouse, we're not just worried about you. We're worried about his daughter too. She's a little girl with divorced parents, she's got enough drama going on in her life as it is," he said, his voice a gentle reminder of the gravity of the situation.

Michaela's eyes searched her father's, understanding his concern. "I know, Dad. And that's why we're taking it slow," she assured him. "I promise, I'll think about everything you've said."

The conversation shifted to safer topics, and the evening ended with the warmth of a family that had always supported each other through thick and thin. As the night grew later, and her parents retreated to their hotel room, Michaela found herself pacing the floor of her own room, the gravity of the day's events settling in. Her heart was a mix of excitement and anxiety as she dialed Jenson's number.

His voice was calm and steady, a balm to her nerves. "Hello, my love, how'd dinner go?" He asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Michaela took a deep breath and relayed the conversation, her voice a tapestry of emotions. She told him about her parents' excitement and their reservations about Myla. "They're worried, Jense," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "They don't want me to get hurt, or for you to get hurt again."

There was a brief pause on the line before Jenson spoke, his voice gentle. "They're just looking out for you like any good parents would," he said. "But, darling, you know I'd never push you into anything you're not ready for."

Michaela nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I know," she murmured, feeling a lump form in her throat. "They just want to meet you, that's all."

"Well, I'd love to meet them," Jenson said. "But let's not overwhelm everyone at once, especially Myla. She'll be with me tomorrow. Maybe we could all grab dinner tomorrow night, after the race?"

Michaela thought for a moment before agreeing. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, a hint of relief in her voice. "They're staying just down the hall from me, so it'll be easy to find a place nearby."

Jenson chuckled. "Perfect. And if you want, I'll ask Myla if she's okay with it," he offered. "But let's not tell her you're my girlfriend yet. Maybe just say you're a friend."

Michaela's heart skipped a beat. "But what if she doesn't like me?" she whispered, the fear of rejection creeping in.

Jenson's voice was warm and comforting. "Michaela, she's already your biggest fan. Her eyes are glued to your car whenever we watch the races at home," he said with a laugh. "Trust me, she'll love you even more once she finally meets you."

Michaela felt a wave of reassurance wash over her. She had never felt so supported in a relationship before, and she knew she was lucky to have Jenson by her side. "Okay, I'll trust your judgment," she said, her voice a little lighter. "Just try to stay on my parents' good side, yeah?"

"I'll charm them like I charmed you," Jenson said with a playful wink she could almost feel through the phone.

Michaela chuckled, the tension in her shoulders loosening. "Please don't," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know I don't need the competition."

000.⠀⠀JULY 18, 2021    ›    Silverstone, UK.

The next day dawned with the promise of an exciting race, and as Michaela climbed into her McLaren, the dinner to come was the furthest thing on her mind. She pushed aside her pre-race nerves and focused on the wheel in her hands, the roar of the engines and the scent of fuel filling her senses.

Tire strategies played out like a chess match, with each pit stop a strategic move to gain the upper hand. Through it all, Michaela remained calm and calculated, her mind a melding of speed and precision. As the laps ticked down, she found herself in a fierce duel with Lando to hold on to her fourth place. She pushed her car to the limit, her heart pounding in her chest.

On the final lap, the team orders finally came through. Lando was to hold position behind Michaela and bring the cars home in 4th and 5th. As she took the checkered flag, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. The adrenaline rush washed over her, and she couldn't help but thank the team for their focus throughout the race.

After the post-race interviews, the paddock grew alive with excitement and fatigue. Drivers and teams mingled, sharing their experiences and strategies for the next race. Jenson, with Myla Button in tow, approached the McLaren hospitality suite. The little girl's eyes grew wide as she spotted the logos of the cars she had watched roar around the track just moments ago.

Myla Jane Button clutched her father's hand tightly, her eyes searching the sea of people for the one person she had talked about all weekend. "Daddy, where's your friend?" she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

Jenson glanced down at her with a smile, feeling a twinge of nerves. "Patience, darling," he said, leading her through the throngs of people. "She'll be out shortly."

Michaela emerged from the suite, her racing suit swapped for casual attire, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She spotted Jenson and Myla and her heart skipped a beat. The little girl looked so much like him, with the same piercing blue eyes, curly blonde hair, and mischievous smile. As she approached the two of them, she could see her parents approaching Jenson and Myla as well with adoring smiles on their faces.

Myla, yet to see her father's girlfriend from a distance, was busy introducing herself to Michaela's parents, her jaw dropping animatedly as they introduced themselves as the parents of her favorite driver. 

"We’re Michaela Sommers’ mummy and daddy," Miriam said, her voice filled with pride.

Michaela watched from afar, her heart fluttering as she saw the delight in her mother's eyes. She had always dreamed of this moment, her two worlds colliding in a perfect harmony of love and support.

As she drew closer, she could hear Myla's chatter about the race. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it warmed her heart to see how much his daughter took after his kindness and joy. Jenson looked up and caught her gaze, his eyes lighting up. He whispered something into Myla's ear, and the little girl's eyes grew even wider. She turned to look at the approaching figure, her excitement unbridled.

Michaela's steps grew lighter as she reached them, a warm smile playing on her lips. Jenson introduced her as a friend and a fellow racer. "Jenson, these are my parents," she heard herself say, the words feeling oddly natural. "Mum, Dad, this is Jenson and his daughter, Myla."

Myla's eyes lit up like stars at the mention of her favorite driver's name. She shyly looked up at the taller woman of the two in front of her. "Hi," she whispered, her gaze flicking between the Sommers.

Michaela crouched down to Myla's level, her heart racing. "Hi Myla, I'm Michaela," she said, her voice gentle. "Your dad tells me you had a fantastic time watching the race."

Myla nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "It was the best!" she exclaimed. "And I got to see you drive in real life!"

Michaela couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I'm so excited to meet you," she said, holding out the signed cap she had brought for the little girl. "I heard you're my biggest fan."

Myla took the cap, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh wow," she murmured, looking at it as if it were made of pure gold. "Thank you, Miss Michaela."

Michaela felt a surge of affection for the little girl. "You're welcome, Myla," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "But you can call me Michaela, like everyone else."

Myla looked up at her dad, seeking approval. Jenson's eyes met hers, and he gave a small nod of consent. "Okay, Michaela," Myla said, a smile playing on her lips.

Michaela's heart swelled. Every time she met a little girl who shared her excitement about racing, it reminded her of just how much her presence meant in the sport. She watched as Myla proudly put the cap on her head, the McLaren papaya orange standing out against her blonde hair. "So, what did you think of the race?" she asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing.

Myla's eyes sparkled as she began recounting the race's highlights. Her parents looked on, smiling at her passion. "It was so cool when you passed that one car," Myla said, her eyes shining with excitement. "You're so fast!"

Michaela felt her heart warm at the little girl's words. "Thank you, Myla. I try to be," she said, her voice sincere. She knew that she had to win over not just Jenson's heart, but Myla's as well. The seven-year-old was a direct line to Jenson's soul, and she didn't want to cause any pain or discomfort.

Her parents watched the interaction with a mix of curiosity and hope. They had heard so much about Jenson from the media, but seeing him with his daughter made their concerns seem less pressing. He was a good father, that much was clear, and if he treated Michaela with the same care and affection, they knew she would be in good hands.

Michaela felt the weight of their gazes and stood up, taking a deep breath. "So, dinner?" she suggested, her voice a tad louder than necessary to break the quiet moment. "Myla, would you like to come with us?"

Myla looked up at Jenson, her eyes wide. "Can I, Daddy?" she asked, those same blue eyes Michaela had come to know so well wide with excitement.

Jenson's smile grew, and he looked at her with a proud nod. "Of course, darling. If it's okay with everyone," he said, glancing at Miriam and Tobias who eagerly approved with warm smiles.

The restaurant they chose was a cozy Italian place, a favorite of Jenson's, which offered them a private booth to escape the prying eyes of the public. The air was thick with the aroma of garlic and tomato sauce, and the candles flickered gently, casting a soft glow across the table.

Myla sat between Jenson and Michaela, her eyes wide as she took in the new faces and the excitement of the evening. She had insisted on wearing the signed cap to dinner, which was met with smiles all around. The conversation flowed easily, with Jenson keeping a watchful eye on his daughter, making sure she felt included.

Michaela's parents, while still wary, were won over by Jenson's charm and his clear love for Myla. They pulled Jenson into a conversation of their own as Michaela kept Myla engaged to allow her boyfriend a chance to charm her parents. The little girl listened intently as they talked about the race, asking insightful questions that showed she had been paying attention to her father's commentary.

As the meal progressed, the conversation turned more serious, with Miriam expressing her concerns about the age gap and the potential impact on Myla. Jenson was honest and open, acknowledging his past mistakes and his commitment to prioritizing his daughter's happiness above all else.

"I've been through a lot, Miriam," he said, his gaze earnest. "But I've learned from my past. And if it means taking things slow with Michaela, then that's what I'll do. I won't let anyone, not even myself, disrupt Myla's life again."

Miriam's expression softened, and she reached out to pat Jenson's hand. "We just want what's best for her," she said, her voice gentle. "I'm sure you understand where we're coming from."

Jenson nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I do," he said. "And I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's happy and that she knows she's always a priority in my life."

Michaela's parents shared a look, their concerns slowly melting away. They had seen the love and dedication Jenson had for his daughter, and it was clear that he was a changed man from the one they had read about in the tabloids. "Thank you, Jenson," Tobias said, her voice warm. "That means a lot to us."

As the evening wound down, the conversation turned to more light-hearted topics. Myla giggled at a story Jenson told about a prank he had played on a fellow driver back in his Formula 1 days, and even Michaela's parents couldn't help but chuckle. It was moments like these that made the age gap seem almost non-existent, as they all connected over their shared love for the sport and the people in their lives.

The dessert menu was brought out, and Myla's eyes lit up at the sight of the gelato. "Daddy, can I have the mint chocolate chip?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

Jenson looked at her with a playful smile. "Only if you promise to eat all your veggies," he teased, and Myla huffed playfully before nodding vigorously as Jenson tickled her side.

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her as she watched the interaction. She had never seen this side of Jenson, the gentle, caring father. It was a stark contrast to the fiercely competitive driver she had seen on the track. As they ordered dessert, she couldn't help but feel a rush of something she hadn't felt in a long time: the possibility of a real future with someone who truly cared for her.

The gelato arrived, and as Myla eagerly dug in, Jenson leaned closer to Michaela. "So, what do you think?" he whispered, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Michaela met his gaze, her heart full. "They love you," she whispered back with a small smile. "And they see how much you love Myla."

Jenson's eyes searched hers, looking for the truth she held. "And you?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the hum of the restaurant. "Do you think you're ready for all this?"

Michaela took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I know I want to try."

The conversation was cut short as Myla squealed with laughter, her spoon flying through the air and landing on the floor with a clink. Jenson's eyes danced with mirth as he pretended to be shocked by her behavior, and the table erupted into laughter. Myla carefully squeezed past Michaela to retrieve the spoon before requesting polite permission from her father to wash the sticky gelato from her hands.

"Alright, go ahead," he said, his eyes following her as she skipped off to the bathroom.

The moment she was out of earshot, he turned back to the Sommers. "Look, I know the situation isn't ideal," he began, his voice serious. "But I want you to know that I'm not looking for anything to replace what I have with Myla. I just want to share my life with someone who makes me happy, and that's your daughter."

Tobias nodded, his gaze thoughtful.

Jenson took a deep breath, turning to look Michaela in the eyes. "Eventually we’ll get to the point where I'll sit down with Myla and explain everything. But until then, I think it's best if we just let her enjoy getting to know you as a person, not as her father's girlfriend."

Michaela nodded, understanding the delicacy of the situation. 

"We just want you to know that we support you, both of you, no matter what happens," Miriam said, her voice gentle. "Myla is precious, you’ve done a great job Jenson."

Michaela and Tobias both hummed in agreement as Jenson flushed in appreciation. In the lull of the quiet in Myla's absence, Michaela squeezed her boyfriend's hand before leaning over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm glad my girls are getting along so well."

Myla returned, her cheeks still flushed from her rushed trip to the bathroom. She climbed back into the booth, her eyes flicking to the absence of space between her father and her new friend. She slid closer to Jenson, her curiosity piqued by the sudden affection between him and Michaela.

Michaela scooted away shyly, her cheeks reddening slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that had bloomed between them. "So, Jenson," she said, her voice a little too bright. "You mentioned Myla's been watching my races. Does she have any tips for me?"

Jenson chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, she definitely has some advice," he said, ruffling Myla's hair. "But I'll let her tell you herself."

Myla looked up at her father, her eyes wide. "Well, Michaela," she began, the name becoming more comfortable on her tongue. "You should go even faster and win every race. That way, you can be the best!"

Michaela couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of Myla's advice. "That's a big ask," she said, winking at the little girl. "But I'll do my best to make sure you're always proud of me."

Myla beamed, her cheeks pinking up. "You will," she said confidently, her voice filled with the innocence of a child who believes in the boundless capabilities of her heroes.

Michaela felt a pang of something unfamiliar stir within her. The weight of Myla's belief in her was surprisingly heavy, a reminder of the stakes of not only her relationship but also her career. She looked at Jenson, who was watching her with an encouraging smile, and she knew she had to try, for them both.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of laughter and shared stories. Myla had endless questions about the industry and the cars, and both Jenson and Michaela were more than happy to answer, their voices filled with the same excitement they had felt during the race itself. Myla's eyes grew heavy with sleep, her head slowly dropping onto her father's shoulder.

"Looks like someone had a big day," Jenson said with a gentle smile, stroking her hair.

Michaela felt a tug at her heart as she watched the tender scene unfold. "How about we get going?" she suggested, standing up. "It's late, and she's had a lot of excitement."

Jenson nodded in agreement, gently lifting Myla into his arms. "Thank you for a lovely evening," he said to her parents, his eyes warm. "I hope we can do this again sometime soon. With or without this little one."

Miriam and Tobias stood, eyes kind. "We'd like that," she said, reaching out to stroke Myla's cheek. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Night, Michaela's mummy and daddy," Myla mumbled, already half asleep.

Michaela felt her heart jump at the casual endearment. She walked alongside Jenson as they left the restaurant, carrying a sleeping Myla. The cool evening air was a welcome relief after the warmth of the dinner, and the sounds of the bustling city outside were muted by their conversation.

"Thank you for being so sweet," Jenson said, his voice low. "I know it wasn't easy for you."

Michaela nodded her eyes on the sleeping girl. "No, it wasn't," she admitted. "But she's amazing, Jense. I can see why you're so protective."

Jenson kissed the top of Myla's head. "She's my world," he said simply. "After the divorce, I fought so hard to keep her happy and stable. I don't want to do anything to mess that up."

Michaela nodded, understanding all too well the gravity of the situation. "We won't," she assured him, her voice firm. "I'll do everything I can to support both of you."

They walked in companionable silence to Jenson's car, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the restaurant. As they approached, Myla stirred in Jenson's arms, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Can Michaela ride back to the hotel with us?" she mumbled, her voice small and tired.

Michaela and Jenson exchanged glances, both feeling the weight of the question. It was a step they hadn't anticipated, and one both of them weren't sure was wise to take considering the information they had withheld from her at this point.

"Actually, I have to ride back with my mum and dad," Michaela said softly, not wanting to overstep. "But I'll see you both soon, okay?"

Myla nodded, still groggy, and gave her a sleepy wave. "Bye, Michaela," she murmured before her eyes drooped shut again.

Michaela felt a pang of regret as she watched Jenson tuck Myla into the back seat. She knew that she had made the right decision to not reveal their relationship just yet, but it was difficult to hide something so significant from such an astute little girl. With Myla drifting off into sleep, Jenson stood to his full height, studying the longing in Michaela's expression.

"We're going to be okay," he whispered, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This was a great first step."

Michaela nodded, her eyes still watching Myla's peaceful face. "I know," she said, her voice filled with hope. "It's just hard to keep secrets from her. She's so perceptive."

"We'll tell her when the time is right," Jenson assured her, his hand giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "For now, let's just enjoy what we have without the added pressure. The last thing I'd want is to ruin this for any of us, and tonight confirmed that I picked the right woman for this journey."

Michaela's heart swelled with love and hope. She nodded in agreement before leaning in to give him a kiss goodbye. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "I know I'm... younger. But, I do love you."

Jenson returned the kiss, his eyes filled with affection. "And I love you too," he said. "Now go get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow?"

Michaela nodded, watching as Jenson drove away. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The evening had gone better than she could have imagined, and she was grateful for her parents' openness to meeting Jenson and Myla.

The drive back to her parent's hotel was quiet, both her mother and father were lost in their own thoughts. Tobias spoke first a few minutes into the drive, breaking the silence. 

"He seems like a good man, Miri," he said, his eyes observing the twinkle of the stars.

Miriam nodded, her eyes on her daughter. "He does," she said. "And Myla is a lovely girl. I can see why you're smitten."

Michaela couldn't help but smile at her mother's words. "I know it's a lot to take in," she said. "But I promise, I'm going to handle it as best I can."

Miriam reached over the seat to squeeze her shoulder. "We know you will, honey," she said. "We just want to make sure you're happy and that you know we're here to support you."

Tobias spoke up once more, his tone cautious as he broached the worry again. "But you do know you don't have to rush into anything, right?" he asked. "You've got your whole life ahead of you, and we don't want you to sacrifice your career or happiness for someone else or their kid for that matter."

Michaela nodded, feeling the weight of her father's words. "I know, Dad," she said softly. "But I can't help but feel like... this could be it. Like, this is what I've been waiting for."

Tobias met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Just remember to be true to yourself, Mick," he said. "You're still young, and you've got so much ahead of you. Don't let anyone, not even someone you love, dictate your path."

Michaela nodded solemnly, taking in her father's advice. She knew her career was her priority, but she couldn't deny the joy Jenson and now, potentially, Myla brought to her life. As they pulled up to the hotel, she turned to her parents in the backseat. "Thank you for meeting them," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "It means a lot to me."

Miriam leaned over to kiss her cheek. "We just want what's best for you," she said. "But we can see that he makes you happy, and that's all that matters."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her as she pulled the car around to the front of the hotel, allowing her parents the chance to exit before she pulled off to the garage to find parking. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was standing at a crossroads. Her heart was full, but her mind raced with the potential complications of her intensifying relationship with Jenson and her blossoming bond with Myla.

Inside the hotel, she made her way to her room, her thoughts swirling. She knew her parents had her best interests at heart, but she also understood that the path she was choosing was not a conventional one. Her career was on the rise, and she had worked tirelessly to get where she was. Introducing a serious relationship and a child's feelings into the mix was something she had never anticipated.

Michaela's phone buzzed with a message from Jenson, asking if she had made it back safely. She replied with a simple heart emoji, unable to fully express the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing. As she stepped into her hotel room, the quiet solitude allowed her thoughts to race impossibly faster. The potential future she had glimpsed during dinner was both tempting and daunting.

Her mind kept returning to Myla, her bright blue eyes and infectious enthusiasm. The idea of being a stepmother was one she had never seriously considered, but the ease with which she had interacted with the young girl tonight had planted a seed of curiosity in her heart. Was she ready for the responsibility and the joy that came with it? Michaela tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to find a comfortable position as the weight of the evening's events pressed down on her dreams. She thought of Jenson's reassurances, his love for Myla, and his commitment to making sure she felt included in their lives. It was clear that she had made an impact on the little girl, and that was something she could not ignore.

✼. taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@thearchieves @doodlehunz @evie-119

@bxdbxtxh @seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn

@99snse @ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut

@hiireadstuff @emilyval1 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearyyyy

@melancholyy-hill @valluvsu @futuristiccroissantlampsludge

@treehouse-mouse @sunfairyy

[cobaltperun]

Lost (21) - Let the Sun in

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.6k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Help me darling, now I'm feeling so lost-

Tara twisted and turned in the bed of Danny’s guestroom. She couldn’t be alone, she couldn’t handle it anymore, she tried to after she was released from hospital, all the way back in 2021, and she ended up calling you to stay the night almost every night, or she would end up sleeping in your apartment, and it hardly mattered if Sam was there those first two weeks. She needed you. Well, it wasn’t that she absolutely could not stay alone, she could, she stayed alone in your apartment while you were training for your final two fights, it was just that she couldn’t stay alone when she had no idea where you were. If you were on a business trip and Sam somehow couldn’t be with her, Tara would be fine. Because you were fine, and because she knew when you’d come back.

Now she had no idea how you were or when you’d come out of prison, so she asked Danny to move in until you were released, just so she wouldn’t be alone. She trusted Danny, he saved your life, he loved Sam, he was patient with Sam and before everything fell apart, she was constantly trying to get Sam to take the next step in her relationship with him. She kept trying, but Sam was too afraid to do it.

It wasn’t that Sam was afraid that Danny would betray her, she was more afraid of taking that next step, of getting so used to him constantly being by her side like you were by Tara’s, and then losing him abruptly. Yet, Danny remained with Sam, completely understanding her, and Tara could never thank him enough for everything he did.

Trusting Danny and feeling safe were, however, two entirely different things and it had nothing to do with Danny. Tara couldn’t feel safe, not without you with her. She turned again, hugging the pillow, and pressing her face into your shirt. She took deep breaths, pretending the shirt she was wearing, and the one she placed over the pillow would trick her into thinking you were there, but it wasn’t working. The pillow was too soft, the scent mixing with her own and fading fast, and nothing she did could change that. She was cold, all alone for the first time in her life and the time was passing so slowly she thought she would go insane.

Because, as lonely as Tara often was, she was never all alone. Dad left, Sam was still there, as distant as she was, and then you came along, and she was never alone after that. When you left to prepare for your final matches, Sam was there, and that was it. Now you were locked up and Tara couldn’t even hear your voice, and Sam was still missing.

Instinctively, her hand lowered to her stomach, to the child growing inside of her. “Mom will come back soon, okay? She’ll put her arms around us like she used to, don’t worry. Remember when we got the results? How gently she was holding us?” so, to pass time and hopefully lull herself to sleep she told your child the story yet again.

~X~

The two weeks waiting period was filled with nervous energy, at least for Tara. You on the other hand, you would just randomly drop to your knees and place your hand on Tara’s stomach, saying ‘hi’ to your child. It always brought a smile to Tara’s face to see you this soft, because while you were always soft with Tara you didn’t have a tendency to be like that to others. Well, this was your child, so it was natural, but it still brought a smile to her face.

And right now, you were doing the same thing, crouching in front of Tara and gently gliding your fingers along her stomach and under her shirt as the two of you waited for the doctor to come back with the results. “Hey, Tiny, are you cozy in there?” you teased, making Tara jokingly smack your hand away. ‘Tiny’ was your nickname for your child, because you had no idea if it was a boy or a girl, and you wouldn’t know until the child was born, and so, you went with Tiny. Because it was a baby, so of course it was tiny… “Your mommy is mean, you know?” you grinned at Tara, but sat down next to her, pulling her into your side.

The two of you… calmed down a bit, at least as far as Tara sitting on your lap went. You were still very much in love, but she no longer acted like sitting somewhere other than on your lap was a punishment she didn’t deserve. Now that was reserved for snuggling time, and maybe brief moments every now and then, and always in the privacy of your home and for the most part when no one else was around. And Tara guessed those times would become even less frequent when the child is born. So, instead of sitting on your lap, Tara would just lean on you, hugging you and enjoying how protectively you’d wrap and arm around her as well, just like you were doing now.

The doctor eventually came in, and from the look on her face Tara figured the news were great.

“Congratulations! It was a success, you are officially pregnant miss L/N!” the doctor told the two of you and Tara looked down. She was pregnant. She actually had a living being growing inside of her body. She looked at you, equally in disbelief in and elation, and saw the biggest grin on your face, even bigger than the one you had on your photo with Zack, even bigger than the one you had when the two of you got married, and you just pulled her onto your lap, not caring one bit about where you were. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the feeling of her back pressed against you.

She laughed, unable to contain her happiness. Nothing compared to this feeling, she was happy when the two of you got together, when you proposed, when you got married, when you woke up from the coma, but those were different feelings, just as intense, but still different. “Y/N! We’re having a child!” she couldn’t stop her tears and she could feel something warm soaking the back of her shirt, right where your face was. She smiled widely when you wrapped your strong arms around her stomach, hugging her in a way that would prevent anything from touching her stomach without first going through you. Gentle and fiercely protective at the same time, you just kissed the back of her neck.

“We are, Love, we are,” you whispered, and when she looked into your eyes, she nearly choked at how much happiness and love and gratitude she saw in them. And she realized that, while you were okay with her choice, you may have just realized that you did crave a bigger family, a child to take care of and raise with Tara.

~X~

The story, and her own arms protectively wrapped around your baby, eventually did lull her to sleep. Even if a few tears fell and soaked her pillow, even if her body still trembled slightly under all the blankets. She had to sleep, she had to for your child. She had to rest, eat well, and take care of herself to make sure your baby was healthy.

You would come back. You’d never leave her alone, you didn’t when you were in a coma, and you’d come back this time as well. To her and to your child. To your little family. “Y/N,” she mumbled in her sleep, reality warping as she reunited with you in her dreams.

She saw you, exactly the way you were that morning, you lifted her up, hugged her tightly as she breathed in your scent and wrapped her arms around you. She was no longer trembling, but she didn’t feel much warmer. She could smell the breakfast you set up for her on the table, the eggs, and waffles, and puff pastry filled with cream cheese. You made sure to make her breakfast every morning, and then you’d go to your office to work, you for your company and Tara on her reviews. She ended up becoming a movie, TV, and book critic. Mindy and Anika tried to get her to give script writing or directing a shot, but Tara didn’t want to be in the spotlight, so, she became a critic, and she could work from home for the most part which really helped her make that career choice.  

“This isn’t a dream, right? Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” she pleaded, having spent the past weeks dreaming this exact dream again and again.

“It’s not a dream, Tara,” you’d assure her, as you always did in her dreams, lying to her once again. And you let go of her, dropping to your knees to kiss her stomach. “Hey, Tiny,” you whispered.

“Please, Y/N,” this was a dream, she knew it when she tried to pull you up so she could kiss you, but you wouldn’t budge. “Y/N,” she tried to say your name again, but somehow her voice kept failing her. It was just another dream.

“I’m sorry, Tara,” your voice grew distant, and she could swear she was feeling you disappearing from her hold.

“Wait! Y/N, please, don’t leave, please stay at least while I’m dreaming!” she cried out, desperately trying to find you as the smell of the last breakfast you made for her vanished, and she was left in an empty kitchen, with nothing around her, not even furniture. “I need you, please, please just stay with me, stay with us,” she whispered, begged, just to feel you near even if she would wake up all alone once again, even if it would break her heart all over again to wake up cold and alone and without your arms holding her. Even in her dream she was left alone to sob as she dropped to her knees and hugged her stomach.

~X~

Zoom calls weren’t something Chad was used to, but here he was, on one because that was the only way this meeting could have happened. He was in his apartment in Miami, he was happy, his career was taking off, but he felt lonely, separated from his twin and all his friends. He looked around the apartment while waiting for others to join in, at the moment it was just him and Kirby who hosted the meeting. The apartment was filled with all the things that reminded him of home, the framed photos of his family and friends and now his team. He had to do some cleaning, his place was getting a bit messy, nothing too bad, but there was some dust lying around and he still needed to do the dishes from this morning.

“Looking a bit lost there,” he heard Mindy’s teasing voice and turned to his laptop. Mindy and Anika just joined the call.

“Just wondering when you were finally going to grace us with your presence,” he teased back. Despite the situation he smiled when he saw Mindy, Anika, and Kirby’s faces on the screen. They were just waiting for Tara and Danny to join in and soon enough, Danny’s face popped up as well. He looked exhausted, and Chad couldn’t blame him. Tara was devastated, and he couldn’t do anything to help her. None of them could, Sam might be able to help a bit, but Tara needed you back.

“Tara is still sleeping, I figured it was better to let her rest,” he told them before they could ask about Tara.

Chad nodded. If this could be solved without Tara getting involved, then that’s how it should be done, after all, not only was Tara pregnant, but from what Kirby told them earlier… all of this might be too much for her.

“That’s for the better. I really wasn’t sure how to tell her all of this,” Kirby sighed, just as relieved as Chad. Kirby’s table was filled with papers, and Chad guessed they were all the piles of evidence she had at this point. Was he really back? Ghostface? He wished he could deny it, but he couldn’t. It was happening again.

“I don’t think hiding anything from her is smart, even if she is pregnant,” Mindy argued, always the more rational of the two of them.

“She will find out eventually,” Anika agreed and while Chad understood the logic behind it, he still wanted to keep Tara safe for at least a bit longer. She was his oldest friend, and while he grew close to you as well, especially over training, Tara was his best friend. And… well, he had a bit of a crush on her for a while, back when they were still in high school, before he even met Liv, but she was off limits and so in love with you there wasn’t even a point in trying. So, he waited until those feelings faded away, unlike Wes who did try to ask her on a date.

Chad sighed, things were much simpler back then, and their only concerns were homework and school being school. What he wouldn’t give to see Wes fuming to himself when you and Tara got together and eventually accepting that you made Tara happier than anyone else ever could.

“That’s the problem for another day. First things first, you three are out of this. Don’t come to New York, don’t get involved, just hide and wait it out,” Kirby began, clearly talking to Chad, Mindy and Anika. “Danny, I’d like to exclude you as well, but,” she trailed off.

“I’m already here and I promised Sam I’d protect Tara,” Danny finished for her, and Kirby nodded.

That’s roughly how long it took Chad to fully register what Kirby told him to do. “Now wait just a second, what do you mean don’t come to New York? Tara is our friend, and so are Sam and Y/N, we’re not about to leave them to face these lunatics alone,” he already booked a flight, he would go there and make sure Tara was fine until you were released, and Sam came back. Since there was nothing he could do for you or Sam, this was the best thing to do for everyone involved, protect the most important person to you two.

“Chad’s right. If you are sure this is Ghostface again, Tara will need us,” Mindy agreed with him, and he could see Anika nodding next to her.

“I owe her for saving my life, and the same goes for Sam and Y/N,” Anika added.

“The point is, we’re not leaving Tara alone,” Chad finished. What was Kirby even thinking? Trying to get them to just abandon Tara in this situation?

Danny remained silent, but Kirby frowned. “Are the three of you really that naïve? Chad, what happened to Y/N when she went after Ghostface? She was forced to retire, come back to New York looking for a fight and say goodbye to your career,” that shut him up. “Mindy, Anika, you two are in the same boat, you’re just starting out and are already gaining fame and recognition, this is just what someone is waiting for to use against you. Gale was an exception, not the rule. A reporter in a much different time without social media and so much attention on your private lives. Not to mention she could argue she was just doing her job and got in danger for that. You three are adults now, not teenagers caught up in some mess. Come here and everyone will think you’re looking for trouble,” she got to the point, not sparing their feeling even for a bit.

Chad looked down, deep down he understood Kirby was right, to an extent, but it still felt wrong to just leave Tara alone. If the roles were switched he knew Tara would flip Kirby off and come to help him, and you’d be right there with her. He clenched his fists and looked down, they were Core Five, they went through so much together. “It’s not fair,” he whispered, missing the way Kirby’s eyes softened for a moment.

“Tara wouldn’t want you to be in danger, and Danny, you especially need to pay attention to what I’m about to say,” Kirby continued and shared her screen, it was a footage from some camera at a location Chad didn’t recognize, but upon Kirby zooming he saw it was someone wearing Ghostface costume with dog painted on the left side of the mask.

“What’s with the change?” Mindy asked, confused by the painted dog, though clearly distraught by the familiar robes and the white mask on the photo.

Kirby sighed. “We’ve identified several different masks, dog, bear, fish, bull, monkey, rhino, and we believe there are more. Several years ago, before Richie and Amber even met, there were rumors of a Ghostface cult emerging, most people didn’t take it seriously, but I did and I’ve been digging around, they’ve existed for almost a decade now, but had insufficient fundings. That, somehow changed a bit less than a year ago and now they are on the loose,” Kirby’s words made Chad’s blood run cold.

“And you want us to leave Tara to deal with all of them with just Danny by her side?!” Mindy slammed her fist against the table before Chad could do the same.

“Yes! Because this cult being active is the least of her troubles, take a good look at this Ghostface,” Kirby zoomed in once again on the figure. “I believe this is Sam, her figure, the brutality of the attacks connected to this Ghostface, the latest victim, it all implies Sam is involved.”

They all remained completely silent, just taking the information in. Kirby had to be wrong. Sam would never become a Ghostface! Sure, she was getting more unstable lately, almost frighteningly so, but to put on the mask? Granted, Tara did say she put the mask on to kill Bailey, but this was entirely different. She wouldn’t do this to Tara! She wouldn’t be involved with you getting arrested, right? Not when you were Tara’s greatest protection, or when Tara was at her most vulnerable.

Kirby just kept adding more and more bad news. “And here’s another thing. Y/N isn’t in jail. She was arrested, was meant to be transferred and during that drive she just vanished. The police was instructed to keep silent to save face, but she disappeared and no one knows how or where it happened,” it felt like each word Kirby was saying only made things worse and worse.

They all just stared at Kirby’s screen, at the photo of Ghostface Kirby thought was Sam, and at the official report saying you were missing. Chad glanced at Mindy’s screen and saw her holding onto Anika while Anika covered her mouth with her hands, horrified by this new information. Danny looked pale, as if just now realizing how bad things actually were and Chad wasn’t feeling much better. He felt sick, and he couldn’t do anything to help Tara.

And then the worst-case scenario happened.

“What did you say?” they all heard Tara’s voice.

~X~

“A hero always needs a villain, a twisted mirror, a broken counterpart, someone formidable, someone who can prove that the hero isn’t untouchable! But a hero is more than that! A hero is a symbol! Hero has no face, only a mask, so the legacy can be continued, so that someone else can continue where the previous hero had to stop!” thirteen masks hung from the walls, one for each hero, all of them taken down by the villains.

“What makes Sidney Prescott better than Billy Loomis?! Or Samantha Carpenter better than Richie Kirsch?! Both were made by their victims, villains rising to fame for killing them!” the latest Ghostface exclaimed, his arms spread, blood-soaked knives in each hand. “Not us though! We will show them what a team of heroes can do! We will do what those before us couldn’t! We will fight fire with fire!”

When he finished, the candle shaped lights lit up, revealing a room filled with people wearing Ghostface masks. Including their leader there were twelve of them and they had killed their latest victim. Christina Carpenter’s blood dripped from the table, she paid for her mistake of giving birth to villainous half-sisters.

“Is the fighter still locked up?” the leader asked, coming down from his high

“Yes. She is still the only suspect for her father’s murder,” one of the Ghostfaces, one with a dog painted on the side of the mask, spoke and the leader nodded.

“We need a proper counter for her, only then can we execute her. Ghost-Bear, how is project Ghost-Bird coming along?” the leader demanded.

A Ghostface with bear painted on the mask stood up. “I have found a way to get her to come to the country,” his accent proved he wasn’t originally from the States.

“Good, I entrust that part to you,” the leader nodded.

This was the power of a hero, and this was their right, to worship and follow in the footsteps of their heroes, until the villains were all eradicated, starting with Samantha Carpenter’s sister. That would lure the villain to them instead of going through the troubles of finding her. He wouldn’t speak of that just yet though. First, Ghost-Bird, and then Ghost-Bear would be tasked with bringing Tara L/N in and keeping her locked up until they were ready.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – OLLIE INTRO

series masterlist

the middle of a season is not an ideal time for a heartbreak.

you would know.

but the season went on, and you had to push through it. you were never one to let anyone – especially not a boy – stop you from fighting toward your goals.

the round in barcelona was really rough, with a crash in qualifying and then no points in either race. austria wasn't a lot of help for the championship, either; you had to retire due to an engine issue in the sprint, and in the feature, you were shoved into a barrier by a trident driver and damaged the car too much to continue.

at least your home race was a better weekend. after having spent the week leading up to it at home with your family, you were recharged, relaxed, and focused on the task ahead. the weekend left you with a sprint race podium and valuable points in the bag – and more hope than the weeks before.

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somewhere in the midst of it all, ollie came into the picture.

it was on the way back to your hotel one day after media duties in the prema factory that ollie popped the question. he did it so calmly, like it was no big deal.

"do you want to have dinner with me tonight?"

but when you thought about it, it wasn't just "in the midst of it all"; ollie hadn't just materialized out of thin air. he was always there.

back in the day, he was there to help you out with the prema simulator when you struggled. he was there to give you tips ahead of your race weekends. and now, here he was, helping you get through your baggage with paul – intentionally or not.

you met him for the first time in late 2021, when you visited your dad in maranello for the fda scouting finals. then, you got to know each other more properly in 2022 when he first joined prema. even at 16, ollie was a gentleman through and through. even at that time, he was gorgeous; with a smile that could light up the whole world, freckles appearing on his sun-kissed skin when he had been exposed to the southern european sun. although you were in a series below him in both 2022 and 2023, you would see him around occasionally, and you always loved his company.

had you been too busy focusing on paul that you hadn't truly noticed ollie and how great he was?

here he was now, the truly perfect gentleman, standing right before your eyes. and he was asking you out on a date? how could you ever pass down that opportunity?

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his offer seemed casual – and yet, you had a feeling it was anything but casual.

that's why you spent about an hour stressed in your hotel room, digging through your luggage to find something perfect to wear. something cute, but casual. gorgeous, yet simple. if ollie didn't think of this as more than two friends just getting some food, you didn't want to be overdressed – but you also dreaded the thought of being underdressed in case he also thought of this in the same way you did.

a date.

your first date since paul – well, your first date ever, really – and it was with this beautiful, heartthrob of a man. you and paul never really went on dates, you didn't go through that giggly first stage of a new blooming relationship; you were just thrown straight into the passion, like getting on a roller coaster that starts with a massive drop. this was completely new territory for you.

the second ollie complimented your outfit (well, he said, "you look beautiful", and you chose to assume it was because of your clothes), all of your stress flew out through the window. he looked great, too – but for some reason, that didn't make you too nervous. in fact, you were calm as a millpond all evening. you felt like you could relax with him, be natural around him; you didn't need to fake anything or pressure yourself to be your most extreme self. his coolness made you chill and unwind, too.

ollie was a fresh breath of air. he was a cool wind, a slight breeze in your hair. it was refreshing, a nice contrast to the hurricane paul had been.

sure, paul had also been sweet, warm summer days. but sometimes, a slow and steady climate is easier on the heart than a crazy, unpredictable one.

dating ollie was hard.

with him still living in maranello, and your time being split between milton keynes and the prema factory in vicenza, you didn't have a lot of chances to see each other. sure, you saw each other in hungary and spa, but both of you were way too focused on your own performances to do anything else.

besides, you hadn't even defined your relationship to yourselves yet, so acting like anything other than regular teammates around the track was a no-go zone.

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but when you did find time to be together, dating ollie was so easy.

it was a walk in the park, a piece of cake. he respected your opinions, he took care of your needs. he said just the right things, the things you needed to hear. he was never late, he always kept his promises – and most importantly, he seemed to really like you.

at least that's what you translated his actions into. the way he squeezed your hand when he held it; the way he held you in his arms protectively when you watched a horror movie; the way his lips brushed your forehead when parting from you after a date night. all of the things he did were ways to express his feelings for you.

he didn't just use his body to show you. he loved to tell you.

he said it right before he kissed you for the first time. it was like he asked for permission, waiting for your smile and "i really like you, too" before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

he said it when you parted in the airport, going off to your respective homes; followed by a short "i'll miss you a lot" and "i'll call you when i land, okay?", telling you just how much you mean to him.

and he said it in a handwritten note hidden in the huge bouquet of roses that stood on the table in your hotel room when you came back from the last day of racing in belgium, the text followed by a heart and a simple cartoon bear.

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maybe love isn't supposed to be hard. maybe it isn't supposed to be complex, confusing, difficult. maybe the love you had with paul wasn't what you needed; maybe the simple love you have with ollie is just right.

your summer break was long, though not empty. the days were filled to the brim with workouts, millions of hours spent in the sim, and quite a lot of boring strategy meetings.

when your racing abstinence became too big, you went to zandvoort to hang out in the paddock. ollie was still busy with racing, but you were free from responsibilities – and like this, it was much easier to watch him do his thing.

you'd always admired ollie's skills as a driver, but these last few weeks, you'd also gotten the chance to open your eyes to other sides of him. how focused he is on his performances, how good he is at switching between his friendly and professional moods, how ambitious and determined he is when it comes to his racing.

but also how sweet he was to you behind closed doors, and how good the kisses he pressed to your forehead felt when you wished him good luck for the races.

maybe you needed to work on those good luck-wishes, though.

while paul had taken most of your firsts, ollie got the ones he left out.

first coffee date.

first picnic date in the sun.

first time staying over at a boyfriend's family's house.

first night spent on the back of his dad's pickup truck, cuddled up in pillows and blankets while watching the stars.

first double date with one of your old friends from back home.

the first boy to give you that teenage type of love; the one where you feel butterflies in your stomach every time you make eye contact, the one where every brush of fingers sends a shiver down your spine.

the first one to make you feel like you're the center of the universe, like his world revolves around you.

‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎

being with ollie is so sweet. it's exchanging subtle yet meaningful glances when the room is filled with people who can't know; it's soft laughter in the middle of the night when discussing the most bizarre subjects; it's a rush of affection flooding your heart every time you hear his voice.

he makes you feel just the way you should; giddy, nervous, excited. like a thirteen-year-old girl thinking about her crush. but still, it isn't enough.

in every way, he is a great boyfriend.

so why don't you feel as much as you did with paul?

balancing a relationship and a race weekend was more complicated than you'd feared.

when monza rolled around, you were trying your best to keep your eyes on the price; although the championship win was out of reach, you were technically still in the battle for second place. you knew you needed every ounce of strength and focus to be able to get it.

your focus wasn't exactly helped by having your handsome boyfriend lurk around in the paddock and prema truck whenever you tried to get ready for your races.

sneaking around without letting anyone know about your relationship was hard. obviously, you couldn't keep yourselves completely away – you were both only 18, after all – but you had to be discreet. carefully intertwining your fingers underneath tables, shared giggles around other people who had no understanding of why you were suddenly laughing, secret kisses when everyone else had left the truck.

you did end up taking that second place, with both you and ollie winning a feature each; a great weekend. and you even managed to sneak around without anyone noticing, which was yet another win for you.

except, someone did notice. that someone being the only person you really didn't want to know.

paul.

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abu dhabi meant yet another race weekend where ollie was supposed to focus, but he easily got distracted by his lady. at least this time, you weren't racing, so it was only half the trouble of monza. you were just there as support for your team of four years and both ollie & fred, but trying to steer clear from paul as much as you could.

unfortunately for paul, he didn't steer clear from you as much. having you there was actually more of a distraction to him than to ollie. every single time he saw you, he wanted to leave the paddock – and every time he saw you with ollie, he wanted to flee the country.

you pretended like you didn't notice him, acted like you didn't care. but in reality, you felt as bad at the mere thought of paul being near again. you'd been away from him for almost two months, not even accidentally bumping into him at the prema factory between monza and abu dhabi. and now that you saw him again, you wanted to cry, because...

he looked even better than he usually did. his laughter was just as intoxicating as ever. his entire aura pulled you closer.

but at the same time, seeing him brought back all of the bad memories and emotions too. the arguments, the rage, the exhaustion. and when that happened, you felt perfectly fine about being with ollie instead.

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ollie's final race of the 2023 season ended in the worst thinkable way. the car shut down, and he lost the rookie championship. completely awful and worthless – until he finally got to be with you again after the race.

and there with ollie in your arms, his face nuzzled into the side of your neck as you comforted him, you couldn't have cared less about paul watching you as he strolled past the prema paddock.

the paddock that had once been his home, with the girl who had once been his comfort. the arms that had once wrapped around him instead.

how did he screw up this badly?