#especially his mother who did her best with her circumstances

[teafiend]

Am a fan of the character of 蔣簥 and despite my many issues with the show and its unremarkable writing, am rediscovering the reasons why it left an impression in my mind. Quite a few lessons to be gleaned here.

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

Since it's coming up on the first anniversary of FH: Junior Year, I've been thinking about that hypothetical (probably unlikely) fourth season, and I really think it should be set during the Bad Kids' High School Reunion. Especially after MisMag 2, I feel like the storytelling opportunities just compound if the Intrepid Heroes had the space to let the Bad Kids' circumstances change more drastically than they would if they did a Senior Year or even a Homecoming.

Like, you could totally still have the first episode set in their Senior Year, and have it be on their Graduation Day. The Bad Kids could have all of their sweet, sentimental moments that you'd want to see (while also setting up the season's Big Bad, ala The Seven) and have the six of them (Fig crashes the Grad Party) take a group picture photo.

All of them are filled with so much hope and aspirations before hard cutting to ten years later and meet all of them in their late twenties (thirty for Fabian), and they are doing... not horribly, but we've seen what Spyre's like for teen adventurers. What's it like for a bunch of adults who used to or still do adventure??

How much have the Bad Kids grown? How much have they backslid into their old ways? How much do they keep in touch, and who are the ones who are still closest after high school?

How does Fig feel about getting older and maybe losing some of that teenage rebellion? How does Kristen deal with actually having a congregation that's counting on her? How often does Gorgug think about killing his new boss, Arthur Aguefort? How exhausted is Adaine in the midst of the Wizard equivalent of a Doctorate (and her mother still evading her and Aelwen)? How badly does Riz need this reunion because adventuring without his best friends just isn't the same? AND most importantly...

How many divorces is Fabian Aramais Seacaster on, and why is it two?

[thisismeracing]

Ex | MS47

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Pairing: black!singer!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, breakup, mention of food, pregnancy, it's not proofread, etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: Y/n and Mick used to be the golden couple in the paddock, that's why the internet went wild when they announced their breakup. Imagine how they reacted when Y/n dropped a song about not wanting to be his ex. Would the couple have any hope in getting back together?

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

my masterlist | my taglist

yourusername

liked by dualipa, mercedesamgf1, and others

yourusername New song is out 🖤 Hope you guys like it!

view all 19,976 comments

schumicedes This feels like such a personal song, it gave me chills!

⤷ yn1990 It's like she recorded a voice message for him and then dropped it as a song.

f1sainzito I still can't believe they broke up, I'm still mourning their relationship

⤷ charleslechair1 I bet they will get back after this song lol

ynprincess I love her but this cover feels so...weird, idk, like it's rushed

⤷ mickeyn someone made a thread on twitter explaining it a bit, but it's basically a picture mick took of her, she wanted to make her message clear and that's why it's so artistically beautiful, it goes beyond the aesthetic

jorjasmith you’re so brave and pure, Ily!❤️❤️

winteryn Yn wanting to be friends with her ex, meanwhile I literally changed cities so I wouldn't see mine again

⤷ cruelsummer1 that's why I feel like they like gave themselves time, not really broke up fr, and now they realize it was not the best idea because they literally love each other.

dojacat Don't make me miss my ex, yn!!!! ☠️

woffantastic NOT THE MERCEDES ADMIN LIKING IT

mickschumacher

liked by georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, and others

mickschumacher ⛰️

comments on tihs post have been limited

ynandschumi I wanted to comment something but I just know it will be deleted, so I'm just gonna say: you guys look good, hope you enjoyed your hike!❤️ also Angie seems a bit sad without her mother doesn't she....................

⤷ mercedessummer bestie, you did not LMAO

lewishamilton Roscoe says he's mad he was not invited!

mickschum90 I love you, mick!

sunandstarsyn This does not give happiness vibe...

dailycelebsupdate

liked by wonderfulyn and others

dailycelebsupdate We woke up this morning to the leaking of Y/n Y/l/n’s baby shower. The singer spent a little over a year off the radar after her breakup with F1 star Mick Schumacher, only to show up now pregnant! Who are we betting on to be the baby daddy?

view all 10,467 comments

ynlove we aint betting a thing, and stop saying “only to show up” as if these pics were posted intently, they were LEAKED. Respect Y/n’s right to her privacy!

sainzsunny I hated the fact that the leaked something that she did not want people to know, but my bet would be that she and Mick are back together since that song release 🤐

mickeyf1 You guys are disgusting

swiftieyln She lookes so peaceful, glowing and everything 😭

⤷ ynhundreds that because she was being able to keep her private life to herself.

f1gossipupdates

liked by user90, and others

f1gossipupdates Is everyone thinking the same thing?

view all 9,789 comments

schumacher47 Is leaking season? Wtf the wrong, why cant celebs have their privacy??

⤷ f1khalid especially Mick, he’s really open about how he likes to have his personal life respected. 😔

ynstars BABY SCHUMACHER ON ITS WAY!!!

hockeyf1d They MARRIED???!!!

ynbrasil I just know Yn will be pissed when she open her socials to this shitshow

yourusername and mickschumacher

liked by mercedesamgf1, estebanocon, and others

yourusername It's been a long ride and we wanted to share with you guys in a different way, the circumstances, however, did not help, so we are sticking to the good ol' Instagram announcement. We got married last year and decided to keep living in our particular heaven, I hope you guys don't get this the wrong way because we love the love and support some of you give us, but Mick and I needed to bask in our own love without interruptions or assumptions. This love grew bigger than us and it will be walking around the world in a couple of months. We appreciate our friends' discretion, and our fans' love, we see you and we love you. We hope you guys can respect our privacy and our wishes on keeping some details to ourselves. Love, Mick and Yn Schumacher

view all 34,572 comments

ynweeknd SHE SIGNED AS YN SCHUMACHER OMGGGGG

schumickeyf1 "This love grew bigger than us and it will be walking around the world in a couple of months" PLEASE IM SO LONELY THIS IS A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF ROMANTIC

mickschumacher Forever, mrs. Schumacher ❤️

⤷ yourusername forever and some more, my love 💗

charles_leclerc omg thank goodness you guys told everyone, I was so scared I would let it slip

⤷ lechair16 Charles ☠️☠️ LMAO

lewishamilton you guys deserve all the happiness in this world 🤍

ynandmick I was right and nature is healing

twentyoneyns So let me get this clear, my ex gives me a reason to go to therapy, while Y/n's ex gives her a ring, then all the love and orgasms in the world, and then a baby??????????? God definitely has its favorites.

⤷ schumercedes not the orgasms 🗣🗣 HAHAHAHAHAH

ynandmickey MOTHER AND FATHER

⤷ popyn Literally

mercedesamgf1 We already have a spot for them 💜

sunnydaysyln Are we calling the baby schumini or minimacher? or baby schumi? or macherbaby?

⤷ yourusername HAHAHAHHA I love them all

********************

If you liked it, make sure to like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

I will start a taglist on my posts, to be part of it you just gotta comment/send an ask saying so, and most important: have your age in your profile (I don’t interact with minors!). See you guys next story! <3

[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post

I was thinking about Silver Flames (because why have a good start to the year?) Anyway, there are a lot of discussions on Cassian’s and Rhysand’s behaviours, but what is going on with Azriel? He is the only one ‘kind’ to Nesta even when her sisters give up on her. He knows and understands her better than anyone, and later, he becomes her best friend. However, he also agrees with Inner Circle on her ostracism and imprisonment. It’s inaccurate to say he’s out of character since we know very little of him. We don’t have his POV to know his true intentions yet his actions are quite clear, and they are at odds with his identity.

Nesta’s imprisonment

If there is anyone to feel, at the very least, uncomfortable about confining Nesta for being an inconvenience, it should be Azriel. He spends the first eleven years of his life as a captive and is tortured by his half-brothers. He knows better what it is like to be punished without a reason, especially at the hands of one’s family, and its impact. The idea of imprisonment alone should be a tripwire for him, yet he plays a willing chaperone. Assuming Azriel can’t recognise this as abuse solely based on the circumstances, he should be alarmed to find a wounded (despite the fae healing) Nesta the following morning after she falls down the stairs. Whenever she gets a bruise outside training, it should make him question his brother because it’s what his own did to him when they were alone. Interestingly, the thought that Cassian might be the cause crosses his mind, although he is merely amused by it.

Cassian’s relationship with Morrigan

These two share a weird—if not deeply disturbing—relationship intended to hurt Azriel enough to distance him from Morrigan. And this doesn’t change even after one of them gets a mate. This should affect Azriel on so many levels. Cassian supposedly ruined his chance with the woman he loved (no one owes anyone anything here, but in this case, that should be his train of thought). Cassian is also the first among the two to get mated. 

Now, a mate is more sacred to Azriel than his brothers, and he has been yearning for one for centuries. During the solstice, Cassian and Morrigan exchange inappropriate gifts when everyone in the room is aware of the bond to some extent, except Nesta. Even if he doesn’t have proper experience with healthy romances, it must infuriate Azriel to watch Cassian disrespect the bond enough to flirt with another woman. It could have been an interesting moment for him to truly see his friends for who they are, and for his jealousy to morph into resentment towards Cassian for treating his mate essentially like a mistress. But he doesn’t show any signs of it.

Azriel is not just protecting the sanctity of the mating bond but his worthiness. When he sees anybody treat their mate poorly, it should drive him to act. It shouldn’t even be a question of whether he would choose this or his brother. It is often shown he doesn’t hesitate to go against even Rhysand, so why doesn’t he in this case? The core of his identity should trump his loyalty to his family.

Cassian’s relationship with Nesta 

The three brothers are raised in Illyria, where women are abused, mutilated, and their lives are controlled. They are supposedly superior to their kind who treat women better. And Azriel is said to be the most respectful as his mother’s suffering influenced him at a young age. Now, to see Nesta hurt under their care while her mate shows no concern should lead to him questioning Cassian’s character. 

Moreover, based on the importance of this bond in his life, Azriel will have certain expectations of how a mate is meant to be treated. For him, it doesn’t matter what kind of person the mate is since she/he is a blessing. He goes above and beyond for Morrigan and Elain for the flicker of hope that either might be his. Like Cassian, the mated relationships he witnesses are Rhysand’s parents and Rhysand with Feyre. He might have noticed stark differences in their treatments. He sees Rhysand threatening Nesta for simply not agreeing with his wishes, for things aren’t even a crime; Cassian disregarding Nesta’s wishes, mocking her, belittling her, not standing up when everyone is against her. And yet, Azriel supports every one of his choices.

For these reasons, his reaction during the Blood Rite is baffling. Azriel is the only one emotionally driven to consider Cassian’s fears and reckless enough to support him in retrieving Nesta. Instead, he consoles his brother.

If he recognised all of this, it’d explain why he cared for Nesta and how it developed into the understanding between the two. Honestly, I didn’t get the sense they were that close for Azriel to go bat-shit crazy at the bog when Nesta went missing. It felt so out of place from laughing at her bruises one day and then caring deeply for her the next. One minute he’s ready to attack Nesta for fighting with Elain, the next he is more relieved than Cassian to find her.

Azriel’s shadows

Aren’t they supposed to be sentient? Now, they are sort of an extension of Azriel, but they tend to react on their own irrespective of his feelings. We see that with their hiding around Morrigan and Elain while playing with Gwyneth. The shadows' reaction to these women is meant to be signs of the truth they can see but not Azriel—the truth he isn’t willing to accept. Why are they only expressive when his romantic prospects are concerned, but not the one thing that brought them together or invoked his ability in the first place? Shouldn’t they be disapproving of the whole imprisonment since it’s something Azriel suffered, even if he doesn’t want to equate the two, even when he’s repressing his trauma? It’s confusing and beats the point of sentience if they obey him when his entire being is constantly threatened.  

Sure, Azriel is creepy. But this is much worse—making his past and desire for a mating bond his whole personality for three books, his behaviour is completely ironic.

Everything Nesta is subjected to by the Inner Circle should be a stressor for him. It would be hard for Azriel to realise that the brothers who accepted him despite his past turned into abusers themselves. If it is one instance, it’s understandable why he would be too blind to it. But they pile over one another in a way he can’t just ignore them.

In his book, these will be addressed—his imprisonment, his relationship with his mother and half-brothers, his self-esteem, the impact of Morrigan and Cassian’s actions on him, and the mating bond tied to his worthiness. But since Azriel enabled Nesta’s poor treatment in House of Wind, this is going to seem to come from a place of entitlement and self-centredness; that these become an issue only when he faces it. 

I’ve never seen a narrative so biased against a character. The very foundation of Azriel is stripped in order to validate and justify Cassian’s (and Inner Circle’s) behaviour towards Nesta.

[bella-goths-wife]

“Meet the family”

Ghostbusters x reader

Warnings: illusions to suicide, reader is dead, strange mother daughter relationship, implied dysfunctional family

Egon has a very carefully planned out Monday, he has a rigid routine that few people he allows to disrupt.

First he wakes up and has his usual hearty breakfast of eggs and some kind of meat, unless he’s had Chinese takeout the night before, in which case he’ll eat the leftovers. Next he quizzes himself with some brain challenging puzzles to keep his brain functioning and active.

After that he’ll arrive at the ghostbusters headquarters at exacting 8:15AM, go on a few jobs, usually around three which will take him to 9PM. At that time he will head down to his lab, do a few experiments before fruitlessly trying to communicate with your spiritual being.

Yes, Egon Spengler rarely let anyone disrupt his perfectly planned out Monday morning routine.

But this strange woman waiting outside ghostbusters headquarters certainly managed to disrupt it, especially when she claimed to be your mother.

———————————————————————-

Egon wasn’t sure what to make of your mother as he offered her a seat at the desk.

She didn’t look like you, from the rare photo he found of you or your ghostly apparition. While your mother was a stubby little woman with a pinched sour expression and a penchant for scowling, your face was like a fox’s with how your smile perked up on your lips and your eyes held a unique light to them.

“Landlord said her boyfriend picked up her stuff” your mother said with a grim look as she pulled out one of her cigarettes, not the elegant kind that most ladies these days used, but the musky smelling ones that usually accompanied established gentlemen in the drawing rooms of their expensive homes “said you took all of it home”

“Yes ma’am” Egon says with a cautious nod as he tried to analyse how this conversation would go “I didn’t realise her family wanted it”

“So you assumed” your mother said quickly with a slight scoff “you couldn’t have called first?”

Egon is taken aback by the woman’s words as his eyes narrowed, wondering what this woman’s intentions were.

“With all due respect ma’am” Egon started as your mother smoked her cigarette “her things had been in storage for well over a month, I assumed she didn’t have any family”

The woman stilled slightly before puffing out smoke with an almost empty expression. This wasn’t a woman who looked like she was wracked with grief, nor did she look like she was happy with the circumstances. The woman just looked vague, with no discernible emotion behind her well put together look and her unmoving mountain of makeup purposely put on to hide the effects that aging had on her body.

“She had something of mine within her belongings, a small locket that was my mothers” your mother spoke stiffly with a tense look as she smoked “I’d hoped she’d give it to her children one day, though I don’t suppose that’s happening anymore”

The brief opening of a vulnerable side was shown like a fast moving slideshow, and Egon knew he’d have to work fast to get anything more out of her.

“Was she your only child?” Egon asked calmly, an analysing look in his eyes as he tried to spot weakness

“Her father had a few more somewhere along the line, but she was the only one in wedlock” the woman sniffed in an almost disgusted manner “rightly so that she was the best one out of the bunch”

“I see” Egon says with a taken aback expression, he’s about to speak again but he’s quickly cut off

“Can you bring her stuff out here” the woman asks almost impatiently “I want to find my locket”

Egon nods with a sigh, this woman wouldn’t get him anywhere in finding out more about you. All she was after was her own little material items.

———————————————————————-

The woman shuffled through the boxes that Egon had brought out, hands working almost softly as she grazed them over your various items.

Egon had expected her to treat your items roughly in an attempt to salvage her lost locket, but the way your mother went through your things was almost ritualistic.

She skimmed her fingers over the letters of each of your various awards, reading each one slowly and carefully as if recreating the memory within her mind.

“What was she like?” Egon asked to cut through the tense silence, breaking your mother out her trance as she let go of your awards “when she was younger”

Your mother lets herself think for a moment, almost having to use a considerable amount of effort into making sure she phrased it right

“She was a fidgety child, never stayed in one place for too long” the woman speaks in a hushed tone “her teachers said it was due to her being unchallenged for her intellectual level, that everyday living bored her”

Egon nods thoughtfully as the woman speaks, looking through the various boxes for her locket. Taking in as much information as possible

“She excelled in everything she did, with some pushing from her father and I” the woman explains with a melancholy look “she had the same problem as me really”

“What’s that?” Egon asks curiously as he helped the woman search

“She was born knowing too much” the woman says with a heavy sigh “ignorance can help people escape the dreary aspects of life, she wasn’t able to do that so she’d cause trouble instead”

In that moment, realisation dawned upon Egon. All your mischievous actions and your games weren’t out of malice but out of boredom, at least before them trapping you it was.

You were intellectually stuck in life and in death with no real challenges to cure your eternal boredom, that’s why the ghostbusters attention had been such a respite for you.

And they had punished you for it the moment you had made a mistake.

“I heard from the landlord that she died quickly” your mother spoke quietly as she held onto a prize ribbon for a highschool chess tournament “she was always in such a rush to reach the next goal”

There was a considerable silence that hung heavy in the air as Egon tried to digest her words, to understand them.

The silence ended as the woman’s fake nails tapped against the metal of the newly retrieved locket that laid in her hands, the fine metal work and the small encrusted jewel showing Its extraordinary value.

The woman clutched the locket close to her heart before placing it around her neck, putting it in the same position as you wore it in so many of your photos.

“I brought something” the woman said almost hesitantly as her hand disappeared into her purse before pulling out a small, old stuffed bunny toy “I found it in her old room, I wanted to give it to her but I’m not sure where her remains are”

Egon inspected the bunny toy in his hands and looked at the pure white fur as if it was another piece of the puzzle slotting itself together

“She’s had since she was a baby, it was the only thing that calmed her down from crying” the woman said with a far away look in her eyes “please make sure it’s put with her grave”

“I will” Egon says with a sympathetic look and a quick nod

The woman gets up to take her leave, leaving behind the rest of your belongings. She turns to look at Egon one more time as her mouth opens hesitantly

“My daughter was brilliant in every way” she admits quietly “I think that’s what drove her too it in the end”

And with that the woman left Egon alone with thousands of thoughts swimming in his head.

———————————————————————

You had trashed his lab again that evening, out of anger.

You had seen your mother enter the building but the cowardly part of you that was still human refused to go into the room where she talked with Egon.

Instead all of your resentment was taken out on egons lab equipment, at least the stuff he hadn’t moved out of it to avoid your wrath.

Egon only sighed when he saw your mess, knowing you were in the room only by the temperature drop alone.

Usually he would fit a scolding into his tight fit schedule, but not tonight.

You observed him and his distracted state before watching as he placed something on the slab in the middle of his lab.

Your eyes zero in on the bunny and a flurry of emotions spin around your head like a tornado and you swore that if you’d had a heart still it would be beating out of your chest.

Egon observed motionlessly as your translucent figure became visible and slowly clutched the bunny toy, similar to how your mother had with the locket.

Egon spun around and walked out the room, deciding to give you some well earned privacy. He decided it was time he looked through the rest of your things

Time to figure out exactly who the little ghost the ghostbusters had caught was.

[justatypicalwizard]

[Giyuu is in love with you but you had to marry Sanemi] angst

Giyuu was never one to express his emotions, to let them reflect as if his face was a mirror. That's why, despite watching the woman he loved get tied by the sacred knot to another man, he didn't move a muscle.

You were only a servant, a poor, lost soul tossed around the whirlpool of life, thrown into the Oyakata mansion by fate to wipe the floor and rinse the rice at dusk. You were your weak and soft self when the demon attacked you on your way from town. You were still crying and shaking when the demon crumbled to dust, the piece of flesh from your arm fell from its disappearing mouth. You couldn't focus your eyes even though Giyuu kept you tight to his body, running towards the mansion.

It took a few nights of Shinobu's meticulous research to find out the power of your blood. The next few missions only proved the thesis further. Whatever pumped through your veins was poisonous for demons, even a small splatter left sizzling spots on their skin.

As always Oyakata had only one purpose - humankind.

It didn't come as a surprise to the others when a marriage proposal was set. Giyuu could never imagine a world where a small and vulnerable servant would disobey her master, especially if the matter was so urgent. So, when he heard that you agreed to all the terms of your new mission and life purpose, not even a sigh escaped his lips. What better could you do?

The way in which you peaked at Sanemi Shinazugawa whenever he came into vision had something fearful in it. It also held a dose of a different feeling, something warmer. Giyuu looked at thousands of terrified faces, he knew fear well enough to smell it from a mile. Happiness on the other hand. Could you be happy?

After a few months your expression changed. The look of your doe like eyes was no longer laced with fear. Did you get used to Shinazugawa? Can someone even get used to him or were you simply lying?

The fair haired man was a brute at his best, a monster at his worst. And yet, it was his idea to take you as a wife. Something about not wanting to leave a woman's honour stained and a bunch of children fatherless or at least that's what he seemed to say one night during training.

If someone would ask Giyuu, there was no love in Sanemi's eyes when he mentioned you. There was no joy in his voice when he reported to Oyakata saying you're pregnant. There was no difference between how he spoke about a group of trainees and you.

Somehow, you still managed to put a smile on your face. Was his treatment enough to satisfy you? Did you throw yourself into the role of a wife and mother, not thinking about the unfortunate circumstances, about the lack of choice, the dryness of these emotions. Were you fine without love in your life? Of course you would love your children but who would love you?

Giyuu's thoughts cost a few demons their heads. He sliced and cut, easing out his anger, letting it drip with his sweat, leaving his system.

Soon, he started to miss the anger, it was easier than what he heard.

It was after you gave birth to a small yet healthy boy with hair as fair as the moon's cheeks. The baby was brought before Oyakata who looked at it as if it was a precious treasure. They were just talking about trying out the baby's blood, as it gets a bit older, when the child started to cry. The few other Hashira and Oyakata's wife tried to calm the tiny boy but the tears wouldn't stop rolling. Shinazugawa kept still, only looking at the baby wriggling and kicking in his hands.

Your quiet footsteps were heard only by Giyuu but as you walked past him, you didn't even spare him a glance, too entranced with your crying child.

Shinazugawa looked like he wanted to say something but ultimately decided against it, handing you the child. After a while the crying eased and the boy was lulled to sleep by your quiet murmurs.

“He's hungry.” You said more to yourself than to others.

Oyakata left after a few more words and a promise to keep up to which Sanemi and you nodded, your head bouncing back and forth with the force of a person fighting for their dream. The Hashira left shortly after, every beside Giyuu who disguised his true intentions, lying about meditation and a further meeting with another Hashira in a moment. Truthly he just wanted a glance at the kid, at the fruit of your (and his) work. So when you and Sanemi started to talk, he could hear everything as clear as day.

“I told you to rest.”

“The baby was crying.”

“I can handle.”

You kept silent for a second.

“Sanemi-” So you called him by his first name. “-thank you.”

He didn't answer. Instead the sound of a short breath reached Giyuu's ears. It ached to turn around, to see when the brute did to you. Grab your arm? Look at you with those hateful eyes? Turn his back to you? Punish you for stepping up?

Finally, Giyuu felt thankful he did not turn. Another sound came forth, the sound of a kiss.

It was easier to bear when he convinced himself you were unhappy. It was easier to picture Shinazugawa as a monster who used you at night and left you in the morning. It was easier to treat it as a mission from Oyakata. Every lie Giyuu fed himself was easier than looking at your eyes, fixed upon another man's face, filled to the brim with love.

[witchofhimring]

Family tensions (short fic)

Pairings: Tamlin x Reader, Feyre x Rhysand, Nyx x OC (Tamlin and Readers daughter)

Synopsis: Your daughter Tamar is mated to Rhysandss son Nyx.

Warnings: family tensions

Despite your insistent that this was in fact not the end of the word Tamlin still insisted this was the worst thing to happen. 'Have those Illyrian rats not taken enough from me!' Following your husband up the flight of stairs, you attempted to convince him that Tamar might just love Nyx. Of course you did not fully blame him. Given his past with the Night Court and its ruling lord and lady one could understand. You were torn between wanting to protect your husband and look out for Tamara. 'Perhaps we should talk to Tamar first?' Tamlin turned around. 'That is exactly what I intend to do!'

Unfortunately, the pair of you had horrible timing. Because when the door to Tamara's room was opened it was not just your daughter there, but Nyx.

Tamlin looked ready to pass out. There his daughter and Nyx were, Tamara on his lap reading a book. The moment they realized who had walked in both jumped up. 'What is this!?' Behind Tamlin came you. 'Hello Nyx.' You said politely. Oh dear. Nyx's blue eyes went back and forth between Tamara and Tamlin.

'Father, this is Nyx.' Tamara, looking unrepentant, stared defiantly at her father. It occurred to you that Tamara did not know the whole story between your families. Perhaps you should have been more forthcoming. 'Tamara dear, could we talk about this in private?' You gave Nyx a tremulous smile. 'Yes. Boy, leave.' Nyx ignored your husband. Placing himself protectively before Tamara, Nyx drew himself to his full height. 'Tamlin calm down. Nyx could you go to your parents and speak to them about this?' It was best to deal with this diplomatically. Tamlin was mostly calm these days. Years had passed since you last saw him so angry.

'Nyx. You go and I will deal with my father.' Tamara placed a hand on Nyx's shoulder. 'Are you sure.' Nyx seemed unwilling to go. 'I will be fine. You being here will make things harder. Go back to your parents.' Reluctantly Nyx left, only when he was sure Tamara was safe. Against your will, you liked him for that.

'You were where!?' His father was leaning forward on the armchair of the throne. Nyx stood before his parents in the throne room. Empty except for them three of them, Nyx was wondering just how well this would go. His father had no love for the Lord of the Spring Court. To heard that his son was courting that lords daughter might just send him.

'Is that where you have been.' His mother sat on the throne. Rhysand looked towards his wife. 'You knew?' 'No my love. I had no idea where Nyx was. But our son is nearly grown now. Should he not be allowed to chose who he loves?' Feyre, although not having ever fully forgiven Tamlin, was of a mixed mind. She did not know his eldest child well. But the few times they met Tamara had been polite. And if this had been going on for years then perhaps this was not a hasty decision. Rhysand had no such debates. In this mind this was terrible. Under no circumstances was he to be in laws with Tamlin of all people.

'I do love her father.' Rhysand raised an eyebrow. 'And what if this is a plot?' Both Feyre and Nyx looked shocked. 'Father-you can not mean-) Nyx spluttered. 'Tamara is true to me. And Lord Tamlin was nearly red with rage and-'Rhysand raised a hand. 'I'm sorry, he was what?' 'Furious. I doubt Lord Tamlin will agreed to this marriage.' Suddenly Rhysand smiled, eyes lighting up. Suddenly this marriage seemed like a terrific idea. 'Furious was he.' Rhysand was starting to think this marriage was not such a bad idea.

The idea that Tamlin might be furious over this possible marriage made the idea of uniting their families seemed a splendid idea. Rhysand nearly giggled himself sick with delight. Feyre told him he best behave. Especially since a month later they were invited to the Spring Court. Tamlin did not greet them. Feyre had never met Lady Y/n, but she had been polite, although warry. Feyre could understand why. If it had been the other way around she might be hesitant. Yet Y/n was polite and soon they were in the tea room. Feyre could not believe how different this place looked. Everything was so tidy and had a homely feel to it. Cakes and eat were placed on marble tea tables. Conversation was slightly stilted, Y/n seemed careful of every word she said. And that was when Tamlin entered. Feyre's hands clenched with anxiety. While Y/n was courteous Tamlin might not show the same restraint. Taking a seat, Tamlin kissed his wife on the cheek.

It was mostly Feyre and yourself talking. Despite your apprehensions she seemed nice enough. On the other side sat Tamlin and Rhysand sitting in stony silence. Tamlin seemed to be looking anywhere else but Rhysand, and Rhysand's mouth was placed in a frown. While the mothers seemed quite happy to chatter amongst themselves, the fathers looked like to smack each other. You prayed this would go well.

that was when Nyx and Tamara entered.

Notes: I plan to make more fics for this concept. This is kind of shorter than I would have liked but oh well. As I wrote this on a whim future fics might be slightly different. Hope you liked it! 💕

[s-awturn]

Us, again || CS55

summary: Abandoned in a strange country, with no money, friends or family and a positive pregnancy test, Y/N finds herself on the brink of unprecedented chaos. There is no one she can count on, except her ex best friend, who she didn't want to have to turn to.

cw: conflict, abandonment, crying crisis and mention of an anxiety attack. Old conflict, nostalgia, separation, problem solving, relationship to be established, ex-friends to lovers. Extreme cuteness

a/n: I wanted to start something like this, and Carlos and Toto are always my favorites for angst and this plot arose especially for the grid's smooth operator. And I articulated the details of the story while reading "my tears ricochet" by @spngi and it's no secret to anyone that I'm a drama girl, so be aware that this is going to be a lot of drama, something cute and sweet, we'll see how it turns out.

a/n¹: notes: oh my god, this took so long to finish, I almost gave up when Tumblr lost everything I had ever written (I almost cried) after four attempts, three days, I finally finished it, anyway, I hope you like it, yay!

Freely inspired by Taylor Swift's "cardigan".

“I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs / The smell of smoke would hang around this long / 'Cause I knew everything when I was young / I knew I'd curse you for the longest time”

"This isn't happening, Y/N, Don't fucking fuck with me! This isn't happening!" I hear Aaron's raised voice as he walks through the hotel room, in my hands, an urgent ultrasound and a pregnancy test with a static "positive" on the test screen. "I can't be a father now!"

"I also didn't choose to be a mother now, Aaron, much less did I make this child alone!" I respond, equally upset and stand in front of him, I would never let him, or any man in the world, get above me.

"So it's decided, we will have the abortion" he says as if it were simple, and my mind spins in a huge spiral, I don't know if abortion is an option for me, much less in a strange country and in circumstances like this. "Ireland guarantees the right to abortion, we can do it today, hopefully!"

Aaron holds my arms tightly and shakes me lightly, trying to convince me. I move away from him as if I had been shocked and stop in the other corner of the suite, looking at him as if he were a stranger.

"I'm not going to have an abortion, much less in a foreign country! I cannot and will not decide this overnight, Aaron!" I speak and I see him become more exasperated and veins grow on his forehead, a sign of stress.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," he complains, and I don't like the glazed look he's giving me. "You can't decide? Y/N, fuck, we have plans, we start our trip now and you can’t decide?”

"No, we're talking about my body! Whether I carry this pregnancy forward or not, is my decision!" My voice echoes in the room and Aaron sighs, I feel a bad shiver running up my spine when I see my boyfriend's green eyes go dark.

"You're right, it's your decision, it's your body..." He rests his hands on his hips, breathing deeply "let's sleep, we'll go back to London and talk better"

I nod and change into comfortable pajamas. The test and ultrasound are forgotten on the table. All around us, the strange tension and feeling of something wrong only allow me to sleep much later than I would like. Aaron falls asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

-- ♡ --

I wake up as the sun escapes the translucent curtains, my body hurts like I've been hit by a truck. I barely open my eyes and my intuition kicks in and I sit up so quickly that my muscles groan with pain, there is no sign of Aaron, his bags are not in their place, I jump out of bed and open the safe, I only find my passport, torn up, in fact. No sign of my cards or the money we brought for the trip.

Tears burn my eyes as the truth crashes down on my head.

Aaron abandoned me in Ireland, alone, without money and with my documents torn up, he destroyed me. I start to hyperventilate, there's no one I can ask for help, no one to rescue me, I'm alone in a country I don't even know. My boyfriend left me, alone, pregnant, without money or any fucking support.

"Son of a bitch!" I scream and collapse on the floor, crying without stopping, I should have followed my instincts, but I trusted that he would never do something like that to me, I trusted his feelings. I was such a idiot! It takes me a few minutes to recover, taking deep breaths with my left hand on my flat stomach.

"I'll find a way to get us out of this, baby, I promise" my voice shakes and I try to stop crying. "Your stupid mom will find a way, we'll be fine soon"

After forty minutes between "I'll fix this" and "Oh my God, I'm fucked", I call the hotel reception, and I have the excellent news that my stay is guaranteed for another eight days, a Since Aaron — my stupid fucking ex — we paid before we left. At least I have a guaranteed roof over my head for a week, with food and clean clothes, I wouldn't be completely homeless.

My parents passed away years ago, my friends walked away from me when I started dating Aaron, which means I'm fucking alone.

A new bout of crying chokes my throat and I'm tired of being strong, I can't believe that stupid man left me and stole my money. I feel so, so destroyed. I face the test and the ultrasound, I wanted my mother to be here, I wanted her to comfort me and tell me everything would be okay.

Five days later.

"Wow, really? One hundred and fifty euros for a new passport? I don't have that money!" my hope dies as soon as I understand how bad my situation is. "I have the police report, isn't that worth anything?"

"I can check with my superiors, but it will take at least two weeks, Miss L/N"

"Two weeks? I can't afford to stay here for two weeks, I have no money!" My voice shakes and I suppress the urge to cry.

"It's the best I can do, Miss"

"Well, thank you then..." I thank you grudgingly and hang up. It's been five days since Aaron left, in the meantime, I've sunk into so much self-pity that I'm sharing the rent with Samara. I've swallowed my pride the last few days and called some old friends, but all the calls went to voicemail, and that doesn't surprise me.

What did I expect? That they would welcome me with open arms after I turned my back on everyone? How I was deceived;

My reservation will expire in three days, and then I will literally be in the gutter of Dublin, with no chance of returning to London, all the disappointment turns my stomach and brings on the disgusting feeling of sickness, I only have time to run to the bathroom and vomit my breakfast into the toilet. I don't know if it's a symptom of pregnancy or if it's a consequence of the horrible situation I'm in. I brush my teeth and go back to the room, going straight to the suite's balcony and facing the view of the city, I hope Dublin's landscape makes me forget how bad everything is around me. Sitting on the lounge chair, looking at the azaleas on the balcony wall, she absently ran her fingers over her belly; If you asked me a few days ago if I wanted to be pregnant, my answer would have been a giant "no", but now, I feel anxious about the little things.

Looking forward to buying the baby's clothes, choosing the color of the room or making a list of names, nothing will be easy, I know, but I will make it work, even with all the difficulties and problems, I will strive to be a good mother, and a father too if necessary.

"You didn't come at a good time, little one, but I promise I'll do everything I can for you" I murmur, trying to be confident and find some way out. There are no more tears to cry, there's no more pain to suffer so I'm not going to waste any more energy on it, fuck Aaron, I'm capable of taking care of everything, I just need some time, but I'll make it. I remain on the balcony until the end of the afternoon, when the hotel reception calls me, letting me know that dinner is already served, the mention of food makes me salivate with hunger, in the same way that it shakes my stomach in previous waves of nausea. "I need energy to sort things out for us, little one, so you can let mommy keep the food down today, huh?”

I talk to my stomach as I look for my cell phone in the mess on the bed, ignoring the pieces of my passport, otherwise I would have a tantrum and be able to get to England by swimming. I greet some guests, who ask me how I am and if the baby is already giving me trouble, and they also ask me if I managed to solve the passport problem. These same guests found out about this when they found me in tears at the reception, sympathizing with the situation I was in.

"We're fine, he's already deciding what he likes to eat, and avocado toast isn't on the list" I say laughing as we go downstairs. The restaurant is not that crowded, most guests prefer to dine in local restaurants and pubs, so most of the seats were vacant, the process of serving my food and choosing the table furthest from the air conditioning takes less than ten minutes. The food on my plate is almost gone when I'm drawn to the call of an Irish sports program, they were going to rebroadcast the Monaco GP qualifying, with comments from the commentators. I don't even notice the time passing, I end up staying there in the restaurant as the guests leave and say goodbye to me, and my heart starts racing like a rocket when the camera focuses on Carlos Sainz.

"I haven't heard anything from him since... Oh, it's been so long..." I murmur, resting my chin in my hands, hoping he can get a good position. Even though I haven't been to the races for some time, I still know how things work and I also know that Monaco is a difficult circuit. I can't help but be thrilled when he gets P2, it was quite an achievement! This leads me to wonder if he still keeps the same phone number.

Can Carlos help me... I know I'm being selfish, but I have no one else to turn to, and I'm about to despair. We were friends until one of his girlfriends decided that there was no more room in Carlos' life for me, until she decided that I could no longer come between them, not that I would, I always wanted my best friend to be happy, with whoever he was, and what hurt the most was Carlos agreeing with her and cutting me out of his life. Carlos was my best friend.

"It doesn't hurt to try, I already have the 'no'" I murmur, sliding my finger across my cell phone while I look for his phone. With my heart racing, I press "call" and wait and at the height of my anxiety, I count the seconds until he answers. Thirty seconds until I hear Carlos' familiar voice.

"Hello?" He says and I can't hold back my tears, like an emotional idiot.

"Carlos?"

"Y/N? Is that really you?" He looks as surprised as I am.

"Well yes, it's me" I give a choked laugh, the tears are blocking my nose, soon I'll be exhausted. "I know we're not friends anymore, Carlos, but I need your help... I don't would bother you if it wasn't necessary"

I hear the sound of a door closing and a strong accent complaining in what I think is French.

"You would never bother me, how can I help you, cielo?"

And then I talk, I say everything that's happening, my sobs make me cry in some parts, the hormones are already in an uproar, apparently. Carlos listens to me without interrupting once, and if I know him well, I know he's messing up his hair and frowning like he always does when he's concentrating.

"I wouldn't be calling if I weren't desperate, Carlos..."

"Calm down, calm down, you did well in the place, cielo, I won't be able to go, of course, but you'll be home soon, I promise" he says, there are no signs of hesitation in his voice and It comforts me in a way I can never explain. I hear the sound of drawers opening and a sheet of paper being torn apart "give me the address of the hotel, I won't be able to go, because of the rush, but I will send my advisor to take care of everything, don't worry, bien?"

"Thank you, thank you so much! I can't even tell you how grateful I am" I speak emotionally and give the hotel address next to the phone, in case I don't answer.

"There's no need to thank me, cielo, I would never leave you helpless, never" he assures me and I feel eighteen again, sitting on the sidewalk outside my house with him, the two of us eating ice cream and talking about his season. Oh God, I missed him so much.

"Congratulations on P2, you were great" I say sincerely, Carlos is a great driver and I know how much he works every day, I don't need to be with him to know, he is very obstinate.

"Oh, did you watch it? Thanks, Y/N"

We stay silent on the line, sharing our breaths until I break.

"I don't have enough words to thank you, Carlos, but thank you, you saved me" I say, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. "I need to sleep now... Good luck in the race tomorrow, I'll be rooting for you"

"Thank you cielo, have a good night" he says and we remain on the call until I hang up. Carlos and I have always shared silence, staying silent has never been a problem between us. When I lock myself in my room, all the weight of that day falls on me like a stone, I take a hot shower and lie down, tormented by memories.

"You don't call me anymore, so I came to see you, your mother told me you were here" I say, entering his room, something we always did, Carlos and I always went to each other's houses.

"Well, I didn't return your call for a reason" he said and I saw Isabella, his current girlfriend come out of the bathroom, wearing one of his shirts. "We'll talk later, Y/N"

“You never call me Y/N, what’s wrong, cielo?”

"We can't be friends anymore" He says it without pity, harshly and even cruelly.

"Huh? Why? Because of Isabella?"

"Isabella has nothing to do with this" he says quickly, standing in front of his girlfriend, Isabella puts on shorts and says she will give us privacy, I don't even look at her face, keeping his eyes on Carlos. "your feelings do!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Carlos?! My feelings? Are you crazy?

"I heard your conversation with Blanca" he confesses and I feel my heart stop, he shouldn't have... "Don't make me say, Y/N, So spare us the humiliation of having to break your heart over feelings that should never exist, because you know, we would never have anything."

I could call him names, fight him, or do anything else, but I just nodded and took off the friendship bracelet we had made last summer. A stupid symbol of our bond, which no longer exists.

"I think you're right, I hope you're immensely happy, cielo and that you can achieve everything you dream of" I leave the bracelet on his desk before leaving the room. I say goodbye to Mrs. Sainz and Blanca, Carlos' sister apologizes, she didn't know he was listening. "It's my fault, there's no need to apologize"

I said goodbye to them, aware that it would be the last time we would see each other like that, I had been accepted at a university in England and with the death of my parents, nothing kept me in Spain anymore. Except only for Carlos.

But not anymore, that was the last time I spoke to Carlos.

My heart jumps when I wake up, I feel my face wet and I confirm that just like in the memories, I cried. I really had feelings for Carlos, but I was willing to ignore them if it meant having my best friend with me, I didn't care if he was dating or anything, I just needed him, I didn't have anyone else, feelings that shouldn't have even arisen. I didn't want to ask him for help, but I knew I would never have the courage to ask Blanca, Reyes or Mr. Carlos, so I had to swallow my pride and call him.

I'm still looking at the hotel ceiling, thinking about the floodgate that Carlos opened in me, with just one phone call. I thought I was over it, that the hurt and resentment were gone. As for the mistake, I was as hurt and resentful as years ago, it still hurt as if it had been done yesterday. My daydreams are interrupted by a call from an unknown number, I answer and make the mistake of answering while yawning.

"I'm sorry, please, I just woke up" I ask before hearing the person, who laughs, I would recognize that laugh anywhere, even in a crowd. "Carlos"

"Sorry for waking you up, cielo" he says and I feel my skin itch, the nickname takes me back to good days, where everything was sweet and full of dreams.

"Relax, I literally just woke up. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes everything is fine, I just called to let you know that there will be a car to pick you up at one o'clock in the afternoon, you will be taken to a private flying field straight to London" he says, I hear the buzz of the pitlane in the background, lots of shouting in Italian and the uproar of the crowd. The race would start soon. "Is everything okay with you, cielo? Can you get it ready in time?"

"Yes, definitely yes, I didn't want to bother you, Carlos, especially before a race."

"Ah" he clicked his tongue, dismissing my apology "it's no big deal, I promised I would take you home and I will, there will be a car at the private airport to take you home, just give your address to the driver, and don't worry about paying anything, you only need to worry about eating and resting during the trip, as for your passport, I scheduled a time for you to get a new copy of your document, in three days, you will receive a memo on your cell phone."

My throat constricted, well here I am feeling like crying again, these hormones are still going to make me dehydrated from crying, or my tears would dry up at some point.

"You're being a guardian angel for me, Carlos, I'll never thank you enough" I murmur hoarsely, swallowing the tears.

"Oh no, no please, don't cry, you know I never know how to deal with your tears" he says and I know he's despairing, which makes me laugh and sniffle, in a strange way that I know I've never done before "I'm not doing anything much, if with all this money, I can't do something simple like take you home, what is all this for?"

"I know, thank you very, very much... I'll pack my bags and have coffee, you'll do well in this race, I know that" I say quickly and hang up before it gets awkward, or rather, weirder.

The following hours are a mess, checking in at the hotel, the journey to the runway and much of the flight are done with my mind on standby, I could only think about how betrayed I felt by Aaron's attitude, how I needed to swallow my pride and ask for help from someone I swore I wouldn't see again. The Earth turned several times until it threw me into Carlos Sainz's life once again. I sink into the armchair looking at the fluffy clouds through the window.

"I said I would find a way, little one, and we're going home now. Maybe you'll question my methods in the future, but not my results" I laugh at my own joke and I let my hands rest on my belly, I suddenly feel anxious to see it bigger, Being a mother was not a goal for the next five years, I'm not at all prepared for motherhood, but I don't know how to describe the panic that gripped my heart when Aaron suggested the interruption. I have a stable job, which allows me to work from home and a flexible schedule, I have a small apartment, but with an extra room for the baby and well, I decided to move on. I already feel very connected to the baby, and there is a break in the loneliness that I have felt for years, it is good not to feel alone.

My cell phone rings the moment I turn the key in the lock, Carlos' name flashes on the display and I answer it while trying to push my bags inside.

"The driver just told you he dropped you off at home, did everything go well? Were the flight attendants kind to you?"

"Yes, yes, everything was fine, Carlos, the flight attendants are really cute, I was treated very well, you can put your weapons away" I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit down on my sofa, finally away from all that hell I went through in Dublin.

"That's good, cielo, I've been worried about you all day"

I don't know what to answer, I don't know what Carlos expects from me after all these years, after so much distance.

"I'm glad you're home and well, cielo, I'll let you rest now"

Another time, we are silent on the call until I ask "did you win?"

“It was Charles' home race, my job was to make sure he won, but I got second place” he says, there's a certain 'job done' tone in his voice. "I'm happy with today's result"

"That's good, I'm happy for you, and for your teammate" I say sincerely.

"Thank you, that matters a lot... Anyway, rest okay? You can't sleep late anymore, take care cielo, call me for whatever you need, anything, don't hesitate" he says with such firmness that It almost makes me uncomfortable, so we hang up. I don't know if Carlos is back in my life and I don't know if I'm okay with that. It's so confusing, but I don't need to deal with it right now, I have more important things to take care of.

Almost two weeks later, I got a new passport, applied for new cards and was being monitored by an obstetrician. Luckily I didn't run into Aaron a single day, I changed the locks, I threw his things in the trash and made my transition from a committed woman to a single woman smoothly.

"What do I need to buy at the market?" I mutter as I check cupboards and fridge, licorice dangling from my lips. "milk, eggs, sugar, tomatoes and pasta... Cheese and bacon, for sure" Maybe I'll make a carbonara when I get home from the store. I had been in the middle of an Italian food fixation for days, all I wanted was pasta, tomatoes and cheese. Just when I finish making the market list, my campaign rings and I have a heart attack when I see no one other than Carlos Sainz — and all his other surnames — standing at my door.

"Carlos? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, to be honest I don't know, but after you called me, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again" He says it so fast I think he's going to choke and I pull him into the apartment before the neighbors see him and decide to hold a carnival on my doorstep. He wastes a few seconds looking around, for an instant I saw my best friend there, the guy who knew everything about my life and who today, knew nothing about me anymore, big breakthrough.

"I'm sorry if you think that explains anything," I reply, looking at how lost he looks. "but again, what do you want here, Carlos?"

"I want to apologize, I was a shitty friend to you, I was cruel, I belittled your feelings, you are the most amazing and resilient person I know" he says, taking a step towards me, I don't back away, but I make it clear that he is not welcome in my personal space. "Life without you has been bad, very bad and I only realized that when I saw you, weeks ago."

"Walking away was the best thing we did, Carlos. God knows how we would have ended up if you hadn't put an end to it."

"No, it shouldn't have, it wasn't the right thing! We were left without our best friends because we didn't know how to deal with things, I didn't know"

"Carlos, you can't be best friends with the guy you're in love with, at some point I would hate you and that would be worse"

"and you didn't hate it?"

I keep quiet, because yes, I hated him for a long time, I still think I do and I don't even know why I'm trying to defend him. It must be the hormones talking.

"Yeah, yes I hated you for a long time, maybe I still hate you, but you were my best friend, I can't hate you forever"

I look at the man who was my mainstay for years, my confidant, best friend, accomplice, the guy who won my heart with gumdrops and notes in candy wrappers. The man I fell in love with and broke my heart. There is a mixture of feelings in me, hurt, pain, hope, resentment, all of it shaking my heart nonstop, I don't know what to feel.

"I don't know if I can have you around, Carlos, you were really my best friend, but you were also the guy I fell in love with and who broke my heart, I don't know if I'm ready to have you back"

He swallows, taking in what I said, and for a moment, I think he's going to give up and walk away, but he nods and straightens his posture "okay, I'm going to prove that I'm sorry, for everything, for being a shitty friend, a stupid guy, I'm going to make you forgive me and" he pauses, to emphasize everything "I'll be with you, I'll make up for all the years, all the pain, I'll deserve you, Y/N, I swear"

I don't even know what to think, my mind goes blank as I try to understand what he's up to.

"What if I don't want to?" The question escapes my mouth without permission, the filter between my brain and mouth is off, apparently. "What makes you think I might want you in my life again?"

He doesn't respond for a few minutes, I can almost see the gears in Carlos' head turning, trying to find a good answer.

"Nothing, but that's never been an impediment for me, you know"

I just stare at him, surprised by that, my mouth articulates, but no sound comes out.

"You came all the way here from Spain for this?"

"I would come from anywhere in the world"

After that there wasn't much we could say, Carlos insisted on staying and making pancakes for me, and I couldn't say no as my stomach growled like a monster at the mention of food. In an instant I was watching Carlos move everything in my kitchen, he chops strawberries and blackberries while letting the pancake batter rest for a while.

“Aaron looked for you?” He questions, putting the fruit in a bowl and only looks at me when I sigh loudly. "What? Has he been bothering you? I'll sort it out"

"What? No, no! He didn't show up"

"Then why do you look frustrated?" I watch Carlos put the frying pan on the fire and add the yeast to the dough, and then stir gently, placing small discs in the hot pan.

"I'm just tired, all the stress from the trip is still affecting my sleep..." I murmur, stealing a piece of strawberry, the smell of the pancakes increases my hunger and Carlos laughs when he hears my belly rumbling. "Don't laugh, I'm eating for two and you have no idea how much this little one likes to eat"

We enter another silent space, Carlos focused on finishing the pancakes and my mind wanders to our conversation, some time before. I'm not a hypocrite in saying that I've already forgiven Carlos, but I don't think there's still space for that kind of resentment, I'm not eighteen anymore, I'm about to be a mother, I no longer have the time or inclination to feed old grudges. And God knows how much I missed him all these years, I refused to watch any races so I wouldn't have to see him. Calling Carlos and asking for his help seems to have put all our dramas in order, It made me understand that one way or another, my life would end up intertwined with his again.

No matter how much I wanted or tried, I would never be able to completely move away from Carlos, and it's time to accept that.

"Here you go, eat it all, I don't want your baby to grow up hating me" he says and pushes over a plate full of pancakes, berries, honey and some icing sugar. A beautiful montage.

"I hope it's good, or we'll both hate you" I reply and laugh when he turns pale, I take out a generous piece and the sweet smell intoxicates me for a few seconds. I go to heaven and back when I chew the piece of pancake, the taste is light and the dough melts in my mouth, I know I can eat this for the rest of my life and be happy every day.

"Holy fucking God, this is perfect, Carlos!" I take a piece of pancake with a strawberry and feel heaven on my tongue, a moan of appreciation makes my whole body vibrate, this is perfect, damn"If you had used that to apologize, I would have definitely accepted it from the beginning."

"if I had known food was the secret, I would have come prepared" He laughs as I finish eating, nothing more is said until I finish the second helping, which Carlos was happy to serve me.

I slide my finger across the plate, picking up the traces of honey and sugar, humming as I literally wipe the plate clean. I insist that he put everything in the dishwasher and come sit with me so we can sort everything out, once and for all.

"I still can't believe you came all the way to London... You got my address from the driver and you're here, making me pancakes and everything..." I say, playing with one of the cushions while Carlos takes the armchair in front of me. I allow myself to face him, he's even more handsome than before, the trail of beard over his chiseled jaw, his thick hair in an elegant mess, Carlos is a vision of fucking paradise.

"I'm not lying, Y/N, I really want to make amends with you, in any way" he assures, and breaks the distance between us, sitting next to me while holding my hands. "You missed me so much, and when you called me crying, I realized that we missed so much from each other, I wanted you to be at my first victory with Ferrari, I wanted to see your graduation, help you move in... "

In a strange way, I'm grateful that he doesn't mention the fact that I was in love with him, not that I'm ashamed of it, but ignoring it might make us easier to get along with.

"We can try, Carlos, try to be friends again, because my goodness, I missed you so much" I confess and he laughs.

"I promise to make it worth it, cielo" he squeezes my hands, running his thumb affectionately from the back of my hand. "I won't disappoint you"

"I bet it'll be a boy," he says, stealing a spoonful of my ice cream, fast enough to avoid the hit of my spoon on his hand. "God said to share bread, you know?"

"Exactly, He said to share the bread, not my ice cream" I mumble, protecting the container with my body. Carlos has been coming to my house for weeks, always bringing food — I'm beginning to suspect that it has a direct connection to my stomach and my hunger —, gifts for the baby and books on child psychology, food introduction and everything he considers necessary to educate a child. He's been taking over my couch whenever he has time off. I dare say that I see more Carlos than my neighbors. "And why do you think it will be a boy? This is misogyny, Sainz"

He tries to steal my ice cream again and this time I slap him right in the middle of the forehead, which is effective because he moves away. "I'm not being sexist, I'm following my intuition, okay?"

"The last time we followed your intuition, we ended up in the middle of nowhere, at three in the morning in a car without gas. If it weren't for my father, you would be grounded to this day." I respond, changing the sofa, Carlos is willing to steal my ice cream, interfering with a pregnant woman's right to satisfy her desire for a sweet treat after lunch. I'm going to report him to human rights.

"But do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"I have no idea, I still don't have that 'maternal intuition' that I've seen in the support group for solo mothers, but I'm fine with any option, I'll love it regardless of gender" I say, my right hand slides over my recently completed five-month-old belly. "I should have found out the sex at the last appointment with the obstetrician, but this little one here had his back turned, can you believe it?"

Carlos laughs, throwing his entire body back and falling onto the sofa. I just watch him laugh, being enveloped by his laughter like a fluffy blanket.

"Seriously, I didn't even know that was possible, crossing your legs, ok, but being on your back is something new" he says, still laughing and drying his tears. I just realize how close he is, When I feel your hand on my belly, the calloused palm warms my skin even with the shirt between us. My breath hitches in my throat, something new growing and It's not just the little traveler in my womb... I don't know if that could be a good thing, especially considering our history.

"Yeah, she told me to go back there in a few days, if I want to find out the gender before the sixth month, then I'll be there on Tuesday, I won't have a meeting at work and I can buy the paints" I explain, poking at the ice cream, trying to distract myself from Carlos' hand on my belly.

"I just need to be in Maranello on Saturday, so I can join you if you want" he suggests, finally moving to his end of the sofa.

"Really? I don't want to disturb you, I know race week is coming and you need to prepare" I say trying, I don't even know what I'm trying, I'm going to blame my exploding hormones.

"I can deal with that later, you need my opinion on paint colors and someone to hold your hand while you root for the business class traveler to be facing forward this time" he said, and looks at me meaningfully "that is, I am most needed here"

"Are you sure? You don't need to go"

"I would be there, even if I were playing crosswords in the office waiting room" he says, without giving me any chance for discussion.

"Okay, whoever said that is no longer here, now pass the ice cream slowly and no one gets hurt" I say and hold out my hand, waiting for the container he stole when he thought I wasn't looking. "Now"

"That's unfair," he grumbles, handing over the pot.

"I'll let you have the ice cream if you get pregnant in my place."

"You win, you can have the ice cream"

-- ♡ --

"Do you want me to come in with you?" He asks and I bite my lip to keep from laughing, Carlos is holding my bag under his shoulder. Quite a scene.

"I need someone to hold my hand, and" I look behind him "I don't see any more volunteers, so smile, you've been selected" I smile, waving my index finger as if it were a flag.

"Okay, let's confirm that my intuition is right"

"Uh-huh, of course yes, cielo" I say, entering the office.

The obstetrician doesn't need to ask any initial questions, since I was here a few days ago, so asking how I am is irrelevant. I change into that horrible hospital gown and lie down on the stretcher, Carlos looks anxious in the passenger seat and my hand grabs his so fast I don't even register it, I laugh nervously as the cold gel is spread across my bulging belly.

"Let's hope he's being an exhibitionist today" she says confidently and starts to use the device.

"How can you understand anything here, it's all blurry" he says, approaching the screen. "Where is his head?"

"Shut up, chilli" I say, but I give a nervous laugh "I don't understand anything either, so let those who do understand tell you what we're seeing", I shake his hand and receive an eager smile.

"We're lucky today, he's turned around, or rather, she" she indicates on the screen and I start crying immediately, Carlos squeezes my hand and wipes my tears. "Congratulations, you will be parents of a very strong-willed girl."

"Oh, no, no, I'm just the family friend" Carlos corrects her, but this is forgotten, given how much I'm crying. "You're crying a lot, should I be worried, cielo?"

"I-I'm fine" I sniffle crying less, I'm having a little girl, I don't even know what to say, I'm exploding like fireworks "I'm fine, really"

"I'll leave you two alone" the obstetrician leaves and I feel, cleaning the gel from my abdomen and I am hugged tightly, Carlos supports me with care and zeal, there is so much between the lines here, so much implied.

"That little girl is so lucky to be born as your daughter" he murmurs, stroking my hair gently "a little girl, damn you were right, my intuition is shit"

I press my hands to his shoulder blades so hard I feel my fingers tremble. "Thanks for coming"

"There's no place in the world I should be, cielo"

"You want me to go to the next race? Why?"

"I like having important people cheering me on there, and Charles is bothering me to meet you" he says, painting the wall lilac, he's all dirty, there's dye in his hair, and of course, he is shirtless. As long as I don't have a knife at my neck, I will never confess that the vision is messing with me. "I will take care of everything, you can stay in the same hotel as me"

"You should stop taking care of everything, or you'll have a heart attack instead of appendicitis" I murmur, Carlos insisted that I sit and watch him paint, he even brought books, chopped fruit and even Alexa to play my favorite playlist. "Seriously Charles Leclerc wants to meet me? Why?"

"I have no idea, Charles must have heard it one of the times you called me" he replies. Carlos speaks so quickly that there's no way not to be suspicious, but I give him the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure Charles will tell me why.

"Mhmm, I know... Now I'm curious to meet him too... But the trip to Budapest can be so tiring..." I murmur, peeling the pear as I watch him slide the paint roller along the wall perfectly, Carlos is meticulous and perfectionist in everything he sets out to do, so I admire the paint stains in his hair and on different parts of his body, thank God the fan is on here, otherwise I would be melting from the heat, and having him there, almost naked, doesn't help much.

“It’s not like I’m going to let you take a commercial flight to Hungary, please Y/N, I’m not that petty!” He retorts, touching up the paint on the roller while giving me a quick look "You will go with me to Budapest, on a private flight and I will leave you staying in the same hotel as me, if you are worried, I will hire a private neonatal nurse to accompany us, but I really want you to go, it's important for me to have you two there with me."

"If you insist on that—..." I try to say, but he interrupts me.

"I insist yes, and I'm glad you agreed, I was ready to start the Infallible Convincing Plan for Carlos Sainz" he says and I laugh loudly "What? Am I not convincing?"

"Persuasion isn't one of your best qualities, chilli" I mutter, picking up the folded sheet of paper from among the books he brought me "changing the subject, I listed the female names that I liked most for the baby, feel free to give your opinion, I'm quite undecided here, I have good options."

"I'm listening, I hope they are good names and none taken from the books, considering how obsessed with A Court of Roses and Thorns you are, the girl is in danger of being called Feyre" Carlos shamelessly mocks me and I throw the pear stem at him. "I'm just telling the truth, cielo, but come on, give me the options"

"You know, Ancient Egypt has been my Roman Empire for years, so I thought I would pay homage to one of the greatest queens of that civilization, none other than Cleopatra, but" I pause, aware that Carlos will want to object, so I continue quickly "I chose to shorten the name, Cleo. It's a good option, right?"

"It's a beautiful, elegant and feminine name. I like it, you have a good option" he responds, with his back to me, giving a beautiful view of his lats contracting and relaxing. Oh God, what a hell of a handsome man.

"Well, the next option is Athena, as the Greek goddess of justice, wisdom and war, I don't think I need to explain further, right?"

"It's good, but I still prefer Cleo"

"I like Margot and Elena, they are both elegant and short, I didn't think about long and complicated names, I don't want her to have problems learning to write her own name"

"It's a good justification, giving her a name that's easy to read and write... So I still prefer Cleo"

"Don't you want to hear the other options?"

"Nope, I like Cleo, it's beautiful and very meaningful, and it matches her last name, she'll love it, when she understands it"

I hadn't thought about my last name when choosing the names, so Carlos' reasoning makes sense, so I already had a name chosen.

"Alright, we have a winner, I like Cleo too, thanks for helping me choose"

"You're welcome, we are here to serve well and always serve" he makes an exaggerated bow and I laugh.

"Oh really? My kitchen faucet is dripping non-stop, can you fix it for me?" I ask ironically and Carlos wipes the sweat from his face, giving me another meaningful look.

"Of course yes, cielo, I'll sort it out as soon as I'm done here"

"I'm kidding, chilli, you don't have to worry about it"

"But not me, I'll sort it out as soon as it's over" he insists and I give up trying to make him give up, Carlos is as stubborn as a wild horse, it's no wonder he's at Ferrari. Which makes me think of something:

"I agree to go with you, but I want to meet Lewis, it's my condition" I point my index finger and Carlos looks at me, raising his eyebrow.

"Really? I need to find out what makes Lewis Hamilton so appealing to the female audience" I can't identify the feeling in his voice, and I adjust myself in the seat, stroking my protruding belly. Being pregnant isn't easy, the nausea, all the swelling and fluid retention is horrible, I was already sleeping poorly because my belly wouldn't let me find a comfortable position and of course, I've already lost all my clothes. But I don't regret for a moment having continued with the pregnancy, my little traveler is a gift, Cleo already makes my days wonderful. I observe the lilac covering the walls little by little, making her room take on shape and color, soon the furniture would be assembled.

"I think it's the voice, he has a very good voice to listen to, I could listen to hours of ASMR of him speaking" I respond, hearing Carlos mumble intelligibly. "What did you think of color? I didn't want pink because I thought it was too obvious, and I love the combination of lilac and green"

"I like it, they are very pretty shades and you chose a good brand, they don't have a strong smell and they pigment well on the wall... I'm almost done here, where do you leave the tools to fix the tap?"

"Carlos, I was joking, don't worry about it, the plumber will come on Tuesday to fix it, I'm serious" I say, hoping he will forget this story. "Don't worry, it's serious!"

He puts the rest of the paint in the can and takes the paint roller to the laundry area. I even try to help, but Carlos forces me to sit down again when he returns from the laundry area. He himself collects the newspapers from the floor and opens the windows.

"I need a shower now, can I use your bathroom?"

"Obviously, feel free, I'll order a pizza for us" I say, following him to the living room, Carlos waves and gives a quick kiss and and go to my bathroom in the suite. I see how his jeans fit well on his hips, leaving the waistband of his underwear slightly visible and God only knows how that messes with my hormones. “Y/N, you fucking need to control yourself, he’s your best friend, stop acting like a needy bitch.

"Are you Y/N? Finally! It's a pleasure to meet you, Carlos talked a lot, a lot about you!" Charles tells me, giving me a tight, loving hug. He is really very handsome and It's easy to understand why his fans are so obsessed with him, he's gorgeous. He has an adorable dimpled smile on his face and I feel shaken all of a sudden.

"He also spoke a lot about you, Charles, it's great to meet you too" I return the hug.

"I hope he said good things"

"I tell her the truth!" Carlos shouted from afar.

Soon we are surrounded by the team, who are extremely warm and kind to me, but I feel claustrophobic among so many people.

"Okay guys, give her space, please, you're making her suffocate" Carlos appears as a salvation and takes me out of the crowd, Charles follows us to the empty area of the garage. "Are you okay, cielo? Here, drink some water, it's too hot and you can't get dehydrated." He offers me a disposable cup of water and makes me sit down. "I have to talk to my mechanics now, but Charles can take you for a ride in the pitlane, if that's okay?"

"Of course, of course don't worry, you can go, we'll be fine"

"Well, take care of them, Charles"

"Relax, being with me is the same as being with God, relax cabrón"

"That's what scares me" Carlos says and kisses me quickly on the cheek, not caring what it does to me, not that he knows.

"Ready? I'm going to give you the best guided tour of the pitlane" Charles interlaces his arm in the middle and guides me through the pitlane, he is approached by a lot of people, always being extremely kind and attentive, he makes some jokes while introducing the places and some people.

"Y/N! Carlos didn't tell me you were coming!" Lando comes running towards us and hugs me too, we were already close to the Mercedes garage, one of the employees told us that Lewis was in a meeting, so I decided to wait

"It was a last minute decision, there was no way to warn you anyway" I say while Charles takes a chair from the Mercedes garage and makes me sit down.

"Why did you meet her before me?! I hear Sainz talking about her all day!"

"I live in London and I met her during his visit, so I tagged along! It's not my fault you don't live in London!" Lando retorts and I laugh at them.

"Sorry if I'm Monegasque! I didn't choose to be born in Monaco!" My laughter echoes around the room and they stop arguing, and then they laugh too, but the moment is interrupted by Lewis Fucking Hamilton. He's more impressive up close, damn it.

"It's good to finally meet Carlos' girl, you've been the talk of the paddock, he says and my cheeks burn and he hugs me too. The four of us talk for almost forty minutes, Lewis is exactly what I expected, polite, kind and attentive, he really has the aura, that aura that few people have and that made it clear why he is one of the greatest in the sport. He's really impressive.

"Let's go to the garage chérie, you need to get some rest, it's too hot for you to stay out here" Charles says as he guides me to the Ferrari garage, where Carlos is already waiting for us, Seeing him is like a cool breeze on a scorching day, he looks so good in red that wow, it hurts to remember he's leaving the Tifosi.

"How was it? Did you enjoy the ride? Did Charles treat you well?" He asks and sizes me up, but I nod dismissively and hear Charles click his tongue, offended.

"I'm fine, Charles was a perfect gentleman to me, and we met Lando on the way, it was amazing!" I say.

"That's great, cielo, let's go to my room, you need to rest, there was a lot of excitement today" He takes me to his private room and lets me rest on the bed there, I don't mind, my feet hurt so much and I wanted to get some sleep, Carlos sits on the edge and rubs my belly, he looks strange, like he's uncomfortable. "Are you okay? How is Cleo?"

"We're fine, she's great" I reply and feel her move and kick, Cleo is Carlos' biggest fan, apparently, she always moves when he speaks, loves the sound of his voice and kicks in the exact place where his hand is. She's going to be his biggest groupie, and there's no argument.

I watch him, feeling my heart beat like a fool, Carlos has been exactly what I hope he will be, a friend, a great companion, he is always in connection with me, I hate knowing that I'm falling in love with him again, that I'm entering that gray area again, putting our friendship at risk because of my stupid feelings, so I'm going to swallow whatever I feel because I'm not willing to be without my best friend again, I couldn't bear to lose him and I want him to be part of my daughter's life, of our life. So it's okay for me to stay in the friend zone if it keeps him around.

"What's bothering you, chilli? You look strange"

"I... I need to tell you something"

"Carlos, if you brought me to Budapest just to kick me out of your life, I swear to God I will run you over with your own car!" I exclaim, trying to pinch his muscular abdomen but failing, obviously.

"What? Of course not, it's nothing like that" he laughs nervously "It's something else... Well, I know this shouldn't happen, and I don't even know how to tell you this, but spending the last few months with you It's been the best thing in my life, I love spending any available time with you and Cleo, helping you with everything, this has left an impression on me and continues to leave a lasting impression on me, I'm so grateful for allowing me to be a part of this."

He stops, leaving tension in the air, making me anxious.

"What I want to say, cielo, is that my feelings have changed, I no longer feel like your friend, I'm just falling more in love with you every day, I tried to avoid it, because we are friends, but it was inevitable and when I realized it, I was already in love. I know it's not the best case scenario, and I broke your heart before, so it's okay with me if you don't reciprocate, but please, let me stay close to you, close to Cleo, I already love this little traveler, I love her so much and it hurts to imagine not being around—..."

I didn't even notice when I sat down on the bed, but I notice the exact moment my hand grabs the collar of his red t-shirt and I kiss him. As I imagined doing since I was sixteen. Carlos responds almost immediately, there is urgency, care and satisfaction in his kiss, all spiced up by the sweet taste of cinnamon. It's exactly how I always imagined it. It's sweet, strong and intense.

"If it's up to us, you'll be with us forever, cielo" I say and he breathes a sigh of relief, kissing me again while leaving his calloused hand on my belly.

"I'm going back to London now, fuck it, my little girl is coming" he says on the cell phone, I hear the sound of him moving around the room, I breathe loudly when the contraction hurts and I want to cry, but I don't.

"No, no, you're saying goodbye to Ferrari, Cleo won't like knowing that her father is abandoning the race like that" I say in one breath. "We're fine, okay? Blanca is here with me and Reyes will be here soon, please stay calm, love and promise me you will win, for us"

Carlos whimpers and I stop holding him, bursting into tears, I wanted him with me there, but I would never forgive myself if he didn't race his last race with the Maranello team, and Cleo will understand in the future. I know it will.

"Cielo... This is fucking unfair" he kicks something and I sob "I wish I was there, you need me, both of you"

"Win the race, chilli, for us!" I scream because Blanca takes the phone away from me, because I enter the operating room.

-- ♡ --

Cleo is perfect, there is nothing Aaron about her, thank heavens and she is absurdly restless, she doesn't cry, but she doesn't sit still either. I'm absurdly in love with my little traveler, ga she is beautiful, healthy and was born at exactly the same time that Carlos won the race in Abu Dhabi, that didn't give him the championship, but it was extremely important for us, because the checkered flag waved when she cried.

"She's beautiful" Blanca is standing next to the stretcher, holding my daughter's little hand while Cleo breastfeeds, still with her eyes closed. The silence of the maternity corridor is broken by quick footsteps, the door to my room is opened with force and I see Carlos there, he still looks like a mess in his Ferrari overalls, messy hair and very, very tired.

He doesn't say anything, he just walks towards us and kisses my forehead for long seconds and looks at Cleo.

"I'll leave you alone" Blanca gives a suspicious smile and leaves the room.

"Lamento llegar tarde, pequeña estrella, pero gané la carrera por ti". He says in Spanish and I melt with so much love, Cleo seems to recognize his voice and calm down. "she is beautiful, too beautiful, I'm sorry for being late, mi amor"

"It's okay, chilli, you're here at the right time" I say, grateful to smell his expensive cologne, it feels like home and gives me so much comfort. "Thanks for coming."

"There's nowhere I want to be, cielo" he murmurs, carefully I make Cleo stop breastfeeding and cover her breast with the hospital gown. "are you really okay, cielo?"

"I'm, I'm fine actually... How did you get here so fast?"

"Fred left a jet ready for me, I just did the race, got the trophy and came here as soon as I could" he says, running his finger on Cleo's cheek. "She's so beautiful, her nose is identical to yours, happily."

"Do you want to hold her?"

He looks nervous, but accepts it. Carefully, Carlos places Cleo on his lap and walks around the room, talking softly to her, it's the most adorable scene in the world, my heart fills with love as I watch them.

"Cielo, will you marry me?" He says, still looking at the baby in his lap. "I want you close to me always, I want to take care of you, of Cleo. God, I love you both so much and I can't spend another day away from you"

"Are you serious?

"Damn it! I've never been so serious in my life"

"Yes, yes, yes! There is no one better for me, no better father for Cleo" I say in tears, and he comes over, sitting next to me on the hospital gurney. We both watch Cleo sleep in his arms, she looks comfortable and happy with him, just like me.

Months later.

"Let's go see daddy, sweetheart" I say, clearing the entrance to the paddock. It was Cleo's first race since she was born, Carlos had been looking forward to this race for weeks, but didn't want to travel with her so young, so I waited for the Silverstone circuit. I'm in the process of moving to Madrid, but it's happening gradually because of the racing, the 2025 season has been unusual, Williams is finally scoring well, Carlos is having a great season so far, so I thought it was only right that we came to support his race.

Cleo babbles happily, clapping her hands as the team members greet us and joke with Cleo, my little traveler laughs to everyone. She is Miss Congeniality herself, drawing attention wherever he goes. When we finally arrive at the garage, we are greeted by the sound of an engine being tested, the mess of Netflix with the team and Carlos aside, talking to Alex as if they were two old gossips, and when he sees us, he smiles so wide it shines like the sun.

"¡Mi estrellita!" He talks loudly as he comes towards us, Cleo claps her hands and laughs, making the cute baby sounds, getting the team's attention, I don't mind seeing my little girl be his focus first, this is part of what I idealize paradise to be. Cleo laughs as Carlos kisses and tickles her, so I go to greet the team, ask James what his predictions are for the day's race and talk to Alex.

"Where's Lily? I thought I'd have company during the race" I look around, trying to find her, but I hear Alex sigh.

"She's at a golf tournament in Asia, she won't be back until Thursday" he says sadly "She wanted to come, especially since it was Cleo's first race, but she couldn't miss it..."

"Oh, and will it be broadcast? I want to root for her" I say, the two of us spent a long time talking until Carlos came to us, they are both blushing and smiling, which makes my heart skip a beat.

"Hey cutie, I loved your blue jumpsuit it suits you so much" Alex holds out his hands to her and of course my daughter goes with open arms to him, Alex takes her for a walk and sees her cats, giving me and Carlos a little time together.

"Hey cielo, Thank you for coming, it's important to have you here" he says and kisses me, wrapping his arm around my waist, keeping me close."I like this dress, any special occasions?" He says, looking me from head to toe, I try not to blush under his malicious scrutiny.

"I thought we could have dinner today after the race"

"Oh, really? I think we can request a special babysitting service from Lando and Charles... And extend our dinner to the room, what do you think?"

"Excellent! We can make things better then" I suggest, playing with the zipper on his suit.

"And how do you intend to make things better, mi cielo?" He asks quietly, and suddenly everything around us disappears, leaving just the two of us there. The air becomes thicker and my breathing is heavy with anticipation.

"A bet, if you win the race, I'm in your hands, otherwise, you'll be under my yoke, what do you think?" I suggest softly, he laughs, running his tongue over his lips as he stares at me.

"I'm in, and I'm prepared mi amor, because I'm going to be at the highest place on the podium today" He assures me and kisses me, the team calls him to run, I find Alex and Cleo in the corner of the garage, both playing with one of his kittens.

"Come on baby, let's let Uncle Alex run" I pick Cleo up and she whimpers, wanting to keep playing with the puppy. "then we play with the kitten, love, I promise" I say to to comfort her, Alex promises to leave the kitten with Cleo later. The two drivers prepare for the race and I decide to watch from Carlos' room. Cleo is not used to the noise of the cars and I don't want it to become a nuisance for her.

The whole race is full of unforeseen events and surprises, no one is really expecting Williams to perform well, but Carlos and Alex are getting everything they can out of the car, putting pressure on Lewis and Lando in the first positions, the last laps literally become a game of musical chairs, the four exchange risky overtakes, the last lap is marked by an interesting exchange and Carlos takes first place, with Lewis in second and Alex in third. Cleo and I celebrated in the pilot room until we were taken to the garage, When Carlos arrives, he is euphoric and celebrates with the team, I love seeing his joy, how well he is with Williams. He comes to us and picks Cleo up, throwing her in the air and making her laugh. I'm taken by surprise when he kisses me, amidst applause and screams from the team.

"Thank you, thank you for everything, mi amor, I love you, I love our family"

"I love you, chilli, and I know Cleo does too" I respond, leaving my face close to his and kissing him again. I never thought that my life would have such a huge turnaround and that I would end up here, once again in love with my best friend and, on top of that, being reciprocated by him. I thank each and every entity that has guided me to this moment, I thank my incredible partner, my perfect family and our wonderful family.

I watch Carlos go get his trophy, he refuses to leave Cleo in the garage and she loves being in the middle of the mess.

And I love seeing them.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[russellsppttemplates]

He's going to be so loved (Pierre Gasly)

You're afraid your children won't have all the love they deserved

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that is about a sensetive topic that I have hopefully depicted with the respect it deserves.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy, curse words, family issues (reader has cut ties with her family)

"Y/N, chérie, how is little man treating you?", Pascale asked once you opened the door, allowing her and Charlotte, one of your sisters in law, inside the house, "he's a kicker, that's for sure! But he's been good lately, usually just needs me to tell him once and he'll stick to just move around", you giggled helping them with their coats before getting together in the kitchen, "I'm finishing my breakfast, do you want something while I finish? Some biscuits, tea, coffee? Oh, Pierre also made this cake with me yesterday, I had a big craving for it and it turned out really good!", you offered, "I'll have some tea, please. And maybe some cake too, although if Pierre made it, I might start with a small piece and see how it goes from there", Charlotte chuckled as she helped you bring the plates to the table.

The initial plan was to get a few smaller things that you still needed to get, like muslin cloths and such things, but like any other time you had shopped with company, you ended up with way too many bags filled with baby things. When you got home, Pierre had already arrived back from work, meeting you at the door and helping you carry the bags up, "Mon amour, how was your day?", he asked, kissing your lips and grabbing some bags, "it was good, my feet are a bit sore, but I really enjoyed spending time with them!", you exclaimed, reaching the nursery and putting the bags on the floor, your arms opening sp you could hug your husband, "I kept telling them that, as far as I know, there's only one baby here, but they insisted on getting all of this!", you giggled, feeling his hands rub your bump, "Our family is growing and they're very excited, it's just one of the ways they show how happy they are and their support too", he said, kissing your forehead.

To anyone, that would be a simple comment and it would brush them as quickly as it was said. But for you, it stayed playing in loop in your mind. The reminders that you did not have your family by your side came and went since you decided to keep away from them, especially when it came to big dates or important moments, but recently it had been a constant thought.

Cutting ties with your family had been the best decision, there isn't a day that you regret what you did. Having said that, it was still something you wished you could have in different circumstances. To have your mother share her experiences, to show you things from when you were little, to have your father teaching you and setting you set up the nursery and tell you all about your family's customs through the years.

Pierre's family had been incredible like always. They knew just enough about what happened with your family and not only respected it but also supported you in any way they could, taking you under their wing like you were one of their own from the beggining. The pregnancy had been received with massive excitement from everyone, and they kept calling whenever they had the chance, wanting to know how you were and if there was anything they could do to help you and Pierre in this journey. But lately, it had been a bit of a handful dealing with your thoughts.

.

"Can you grab the bag, please?", Pierre asked once he parked the car, checking something on the car before exiting it and lacing your hands once he got out, locking it and heading to the front door of Charles' place.

They had invited you over for baby Hervé's shower, welcoming you inside while you looked around, "we have a specific chair for you so you can be comfy", Charles said as he pointed to his wife, "she ordered me to do it", he chuckled, "hey! You don't know what it is to carry a baby around! It's hard work, and we both need to rest!", she reasoned with her husband, hugging you the best way you could before she introduced you to the people you didn't know. While they had a lot of friends and family you already knew, Charles' in laws were there too and you hadn't yet met some of them. They congratulated you, easily chatting up about everything and anything while you ate the snacks and drinks being passed around.

Pierre felt his body get a little bit lighter. It wasn't like your demeanor had changed that much in comparison to the last few days, but you certainly looked comfortable and like you were enjoying yourself.

"There's something on your mind, and I have time while they decorate biscuits. So, spill it", Charles noted, sitting next to Pierre on one of the high stools, sipping from his drink while he looked at his bestfriend. "Does Y/N seem off to you? Or has she seemed off to you recently?", he wondered looking at his wife admiring her work of art in the blue powdered sugar icing.

"I mean, she's lost some of her energy, but that's normal at this stage. You can't expect that she is running around now", Charles reasoned, not understanding where he was going, "it's just, I think she's been a little crestfallen, quieter than usual lately, and she hasn't said anything to me in that regard, she's been very quiet. I've tried to get her to talk, but she never says much", Pierre slumped his shoulders, "you just have to take it day by day. It's a lot these days, I'm sure you feel it, too. And they feel it even more. Family and friends are a great help, but there are some things they have to deal with on their own and it's hard to juggle all of it. She'll come to you whenever she feels ready, trust me", Charles patted his back.

.

You put all the baby clothes you had washed and dried in the hamper, supporting it comfortably on your side as you walked up to the nursery. The room was coming along well, the crib was already finished, just needing to be done with the softest sheets your skin has ever felt, and the rest of the furniture had been assembled whenever you and Pierre found the time to do it. Setting the clothes on top of the dresser, you opened the respective drawers to allocate every piece, taking the time and effort of remembering who had gifted them to your baby boy. Charles and his wife got matching sets so that both of the boys could look alike, Pascale had gotten way too many pieces for you to keep track on, claiming she was so excited to be a grandma again that she couldn't help herself anytime she saw something cute and had to get it.

Without noticing, tears started falling from your eyes and into the small pieces of clothing, marking them and creating a strain on your breath. Breathing in this late stage of pregnancy was already difficult, and sobbing wasn't helping it. You carefully walked to the chair you had put in the room so you'd have somewhere to sit during the night, proving its usefulness now as you tried to manage your emotions.

Pierre came out of the bathroom after his shower, already dressed and towell in hand so he could take it to the laundry room when he heard movement in the nursery. He didn't expect to see you like how he found you, cheeks red and tear stained and a trembling lip while you looked up at the ceiling.

"Hey, amour, what's the matter? Are you in pain?", he walked, throwing the towell on the corridor and kneeling in front of you, holding your hand in his while the other brushed the hairs out of your eyes. "I'm not in pain, I'm okay", you gulped, "but I haven't been feeling good. And I've wanted to talk to you, but I didn't want to bother you, even though you always say I could never bother you, but I'm telling you now, I guess", you blurted, receiving an encouragement nod from your husband.

Sighing, you played with his fingers, "lately, it dawned on me that my family isn't around for this, for me or for baby Alexandre, for us", you began, "and seeing Charles and his wife and everyone for there for Hervé, it got me thinking even more like, everyone was there to see them! To see the mother to be, to support her and congratulate her. And I'm not saying this in a bad way, because I'm so happy that they have it. And I know we have that from your family, I'm not complaining about them either. Everyone has been lovely, but fuck, I won't have my family supporting me. I won't have my father checking up on his little girl after she gave birth or have my mother share her experiences because the thought of having to be in the same room as them chills my bones. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt still, because it does", you cried, the attempt of looking up to stop the tears from flowing failing as Pierre carefully wiped them.

"How long have you been feeling like this, mon ange?", Pierre asked, now holding your face in his hands, "a little while, and the shower just made it a bit stronger, I think. Fuck, I sound like an awful person, I'm sorry", you apologised, "hey, no need for that. It's okay to feel like this, you don't have to feel guilty about your feelings", your husband reasoned.

"It is the best decision to keep away from them, I wouldn't change it for the world. But it will only be me passing down our traditions, and letting him know how things used to be, our language, our customs", you sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve, "because I don't want him to not know. It is a part of me that I'm proud of and I'm not letting my parents take that from me too", you breathed out. Rubbing your hands, your husband looked for your eyes, "and we will make sure he knows. Him and his siblings if we are fortunate along the way. I know a few words myself, and I'll help with all the traditions. I'll make your recipes, even if they don't taste as good, I'll teach them about all the holidays you celebrate and that we will celebrate too and I'll support you in anything you decide to do, I promise", he stated, smiling in hope you'd mirror his, the corners of your lips lifting a little.

"I know they're your family, but I'm sure that our little one is going to be so so so loved, he's going to be doted on by everyone", Pierre pointed out, "and we will make sure we do everything we can for that. And you are going to tell me everytime things get too much, okay? I hate to see you like this", he asked, earning a nod from you, "now, how about we sort these clothes so we can finally decide on the outfit he's wearing for when he comes home?", your husband teased you, "your brother gave us this little set he found and I think that's the one, let me show you it", you said, getting up and waddling to the pile of clothes, happily showing you the choice and smiling as you watched your husband's excitement about it all. Your little boy was going to be so loved, and it didn't have to be from a blood relationship.

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Prince Fluff -The Grail Prince

Background Info: Empathic touch/ Papa Fisher /Fluff's Mom

Making Fluff the son of the Grail King was the best decision I ever made it adds depth and zest to his character.

Before the events of Kirby's Epic Yarn, Yin-Yarn tried to take over the kingdom. Knowing the queen had vanished and the king had died... But nope Grail says NO! (Due to the protection of the Grail "may not unworthy kings sit on the throne".) That's why he couldn't take over Patchland and just settled to take over Dreamland.

Of course, his rage quits and all he can do is mess with the Magic Yarn... But not before revealing the truth of Fluff's birth.

(the deal he made with Fisher in exchange for him & his wife to have a son...).

Fluff blames himself for the death of his father, (he was always told that he (Fisher) died due to an illness)... he was the cause? This leads him to ruminate on his mother's disappearance.

All Fluff could gather (what he thinks happened) is that she left because she was so heartbroken after Fisher's death that she mentally shut down. She was still able to run the kingdom... but you could tell she was just barely holding on ... then 2 years after she vanished without a trace, magically wiping anything left of hers.

Fluff's mom leaves for a different reason (a perfectly good reason). But with all this pressure he's been under (that he is now the sole ruler) this terrible reveal makes him think:

"Did she leave because... I took Dad away from her?"

Leaving him absolutely scattered: it was in this distraught state that Yin-Yarn was able to snatch the magic sock. And then wind up in Dreamland... (However, splitting up Patchland wasn't the only thing that happened after cutting the magic yarn.)

It also interfered with Fluff receiving his father's letters. So it's only after this talk with Kirby that the very first one of King Fisher's letters to Fluff reveals his past before he hides Patchland away. Which is why it's a great source of comfort to not only Fluff but to Kirby.

(The citizens of Pathland all knew of the Fisher's past mistake but due to the love & respect they had for their king... They left it up to him to tell his son the truth. ) The people of Patchland truly did love their King and prince.

This is (another reason) why Fluff got extremely emotional when confronting Flaspar with his dad. His father's past mistakes made him feel less alone. And thanks to Kirby's power, not only can he read his father's letters and listen & see his father read them...

Keep reading for extra info & what's to come~

This also comes fresh off the heels of Marx Arc & the Fall out of Fumu/Tiff & Bun/Tuff. So Kirby getting transported to Patchland and meeting another kid who's just like him was exactly what he needed.

Each character Kirby befriends deals with an aspect Kirby must tackle within himself. (The events of the anime really messed him up... defeating Nightmare didn't fix his problems...) Prince Fluff's arc deals with Kirby's self-doubt...

Seeing someone who he comes to admire share the same doubts & isolating feelings as his title... it was like he was looking in a mirror. They already had an instant connection when they met, but this was a defining moment for Kirby: "Maybe I'm not the only one..."

I imagined this scenario long ago (not exactly like this, before I made Fluff the Grail Prince.) Now this is what solidified it for me~ Their relationship is built on "Nobody quite gets me like you." They're a sense of comfort for each other & understanding.

Other characters understand Kirby (yes) but no one quite as well as Fluff... these two are both kids who have these great responsibilities pushed on to them due to circumstances. They are each other's rocks & confidants throughout KBASW.

And as you can see I reconned a lot of things about Fluff's character. Especially his mom, so Fluff's coronation situation doesn't happen... I'm gonna have to rewrite that.

AND THIS IS THE REASON WHY I SHIP KIRFLUFF!

I hope I was able to portray the feelings I wanted to convey (especially that imposter syndrome). It wasn't intentional though it's one of those things you plan out but: when you feel the vibe of the story and the chemistry of the characters... by the end of the writing process/planning you realize "Oh my gosh, I've built a ship!"

(I know guys I haven't touched the fic at all due to the Kirby OC Tournament but don't worry I refuse to leave you guys lore-starved, so I'll be doing little snippets of the characters. )

Everyone's as an... Arthurian/ folklore twist: and special prev. to the next person I'm gonna be explaining which is our dear Marx who is:

THE PIED PIPER

Similar to his counterpart the people of Hamelin royally screwed him over and became the trickster that arrives in Dreamland...

Coming up soon, hope you guys stick around for that!

[helluvathings]

A lot has been written on how much Cash Buckzo sucks, but one thing that doesn't come up as often is that he was an abusive father-figure to Fizz too. From what we've been shown so far, it doesn't look like Fizz had other guardians in his life. Cash seemed to be in charge of him post-fire, based on the trailer and his ability to keep Blitzø and Fizz apart. Plus, at Fizz's birthday, when Cash has the "Wish You Were My Son" card, no other parents are around making wtf faces.

And if Cash was Fizz's main guardian, he had Fizz and Blitzø in a textbook golden child/scapegoat dynamic. Pulling from the first site that came up on google (replace narcissistic mother with a more general term):

The Golden Child, as the name suggests, is the best and most wonderful child – at least in the eyes of the Narcissistic Mother. It seems to be that the Narcissistic Mother picks the Golden Child to be an extension of herself... Her most minor achievements are celebrated and held up for admiration.

And:

The Scapegoat on the other hand is, also as the name suggests, the person on whom all the ills of the family are projected. They can do no right. Their major achievements are dismissed. Any money spent on them is the bare minimum and is spent begrudgingly.

It's a dynamic that allows for manipulation of both kids, and it's particularly effective because the Scapegoat acts as an automatic threat for the Golden Child. If they step too far out of line, that could be them one day.

Beyond that, though, in The Circus, we see Cash was just as willing to sell Fizz as Blitzø: just for a higher price. And it wasn't even because he valued Fizz more as a person; it was because Fizz--who was probably about ten--had more shows to do. So Fizz has been the star of the circus (Cash outright says he's the main draw) since he was elementary school age, and doing 3+ shows a day at that point; with Blitzø's neglect acting as an implicit threat that if he were to falter or fail, his preferential treatment might be withdrawn.

And this is so normalized for Fizz, that he keeps cheering at the Mammon concert when Mammon talks about exploiting the pageant winners. Blitzø clues in at once, but Fizz has already been blinded to all the red flags. When Blitzø tries telling him he doesn't need Mammon's approval, Fizz doubles down and insists he'll win it anyway: he needs to be perfect. The way Cash raised Fizz all but groomed him to be Mammon's ideal brand baby; to accept Mammon's treatment, and immediately internalize the idea that his worth is directly tied into how well he performs.

Yes, Mammon's intentional manipulation was part of why Fizz felt like he needed to stick around so long; but I'd argue Cash's "parenting" shaped Fizz in a way that led him to accept those ideas so readily in the first place.

Final thought: we don't see what happened to Cash after the fire, beyond the glimpse of him barring Blitzø from Fizz in the trailer. I've seen theories that Mammon eventually separated Fizz from Cash, but I'd find it slightly more poignant if Blitzø and Fizz were parallels here, and when his injuries from the fire kept Fizz from performing at his best, Cash eventually turned from him as well--too impatient to stick around or help him recover. It'd make sense for Cash's character, and it'd only heighten why Fizz felt so determined not to let Mammon down. If he'd "failed" a father figure once, he would've been that much more desperate to please his new one, especially since winning the pageant would've likely saved Fizz from difficult circumstances if Cash had given up on him.

In summary, Cash did Fizz just as dirty as he did Blitzø. Both of them were treated as potentially disposable products: just products of different value. Fizz believed he needed to sell himself to be "good enough"; Blitzø thinks he'll never be good enough. And to put a cherry on top, the jealousy/bitter feelings that came from this dynamic laid the foundation for Fizz to believe the worst of Blitzø regarding the fire, and for Blitzø to assume Fizz would do so with full knowledge of the situation.

[cosmicjoke]

How Attack on Titan Speaks to Nature over Nurture

I think one of the themes of AoT is this idea of how our nature's are the things that really drive us to be who we are, and to do the things we do, rather than the circumstances of our lives. Not in all cases, but in general.

Nature versus nurture is a long standing conversation, of course, a constant argument when trying to understand what motivates us and what shapes us. Is it our nature, who we're born as, or is it our experiences and the environment we're born into? This can be asked of humanity in general, and this idea is demonstrated by the end of the story, that humanity as a whole is, by nature, a warring, tribal, violent species. That humans cannot, ultimately, overcome their own natures.

AoT takes the stance, by and large, that it's our natures that define us, over whatever experiences nurtured us, and I think that particular theme is most clearly embodied by Levi and Eren. We can understand it best by contrasting them, and their lives, and seeing where it is they end up.

If one was to take the stance that it's nurture which defines us, then by logic, we would see Levi becoming a monster, and Eren becoming a hero.

Levi had a devastatingly hard life. Born into extreme poverty and deprivation. He watched his mother die in front of him from an illness likely contracted from her life as a sex worker, and he nearly followed her from starvation. The only person who came to help him, in the end, was a serial killer who did his best to instill his own lack of empathy for human life into Levi, before abandoning him on the streets of the most dangerous and desperate place behind the walls, a place where Levi would have had to engage in morally dubious behavior simply to stay alive.

And then there's Eren, born on the surface, into a loving family, a doctor for a father and a doting mother, two parents who cared and provided for him, and a sister in Mikasa who followed him like a shadow and protected him, the only danger he ever encountered being the fights he himself would start with other children.

And yet, despite the circumstances of each of their respective lives, it's Levi who became a hero, and Eren who became a monster.

In the end, Eren isn't able to overcome his monstrous nature. He cares for and loves his friends, genuinely, but his childish nature, his selfish nature, is ultimately what dictates his course and actions and who and what he becomes. His life was privileged, but it wasn't enough to turn him away from his destructive and violent inclinations. We see Eren for the last time, truly, sitting in a pool of human blood, hair and teeth, amidst the victims of his selfishness and monstrosity.

And in the end, for Levi, his nature wins out over the desperate and violent circumstances of his birth, childhood and young adulthood. Levi's nature wins out over the legacy of violence and cruelty he was born into to become a selfless and caring man. His life was impoverished and deprived, filled with brutiality, but it wasn't enough to turn him away from his naturally gentle compassion and kindness. We see Levi for the last time sitting amongst a group of children, handing them candy out of a box, amidst their smiles and laughter.

Each case highlights nature over nurture.

Both Eren's and Levi's natures win out over their circumstances. Through these two characters especially we see how our natures, not our upbringings, are what decide for us how we'll turn out. We don't become good or bad people based solely on our experiences. We may do bad things, we may have to commit bad acts in response to otherwise unwinnable situations, engage in violence in order to survive, but those acts in and of themselves don't determine who we are, and those circumstances don't act as an excuse for what sort of people we are in our hearts.

Essentially, Attack on Titan shows us how each person is, ultimately, responsible for their own choices, their own actions, their own being. Whether you're the type of person to do the right thing when the time comes, or the type of person to do the wrong thing, isn't decided by how you were treated, but by who you are.

[junosmindpalace]

i find discourse around the rdr women so...fascinating and infuriating at the same time. because a lot of the time it doesn't seem like rdr fans want to apply the same level of complex analysis to the women like they do for the men, but when they do, it still doesnt seem all that well-intentioned or that it does right by their characters.

this is a very long analysis/spam/defense so be warned :,)

even though the majority of sadie's character revolves around the fact she not only lost her home and her husband and was thrust into a new life of crime, but was actively struggling with robberies BEFORE the events of the game, people instead choose to focus on whether or not she had feelings for arthur or whether he actions in the game were actually impactful. she helped saved abigail and john when no else would, she fought alongside the men against the army, she helped john set up a stable life, she helped rob the payroll train, helped ensure colm’s death, she fought alongside arthur TIME AGAIN and took over in a leadership role when half the gang was absent in the guarma chapter. to say that she did nothing more except “be badass” undermines all of these contributions to the story that she was either at the forefront of or helped bring to fruition.

in my opinion, abigail is the EASIEST character to defend out of any of the women, and yet somehow she receives the most backlash from dudebros. I lose ten braincells every time i have to read a theory post over whether or not she slept with other camp members besides john, whether or not she was a rat, and about how much shes a nag. the woman has not known a moment's rest in her entire life. by the age of eight she was working in a cathouse. she was a child prior to then scrapping whatever money she could earn at her young age in saloons and dive bars as a woman and child just to survive as a orphan. jack's birth was clearly not planned, and she has voiced multiple times her grievances at the circumstances of his upbringing. everything she does is for a better life for her son: a life she never had. her constant nagging to get john to man up and be a father is for her son's benefit, not her own. she even says so herself when she tells him that she doesn't mind if a relationship between them doesn't work out, but to at least try being there for jack. she can't work a job because she is a mother living a life of crime and danger; she can't afford to leave the camp and her son unsupervised. she still does her share around camp. why would anyone blame her for not wanting to return to a life that has made her miserable, especially now that she has a child who she wants to model a good life for? many people seem to somehow also forget that she herself was a child when she gave birth to jack; only 17-18. she is 22 in the game in a bad situation with the father of her child and financially. she is doing her best to raise her son when she is not fully equipped to do so. how can anyone even blame her for being skeptical of john when hes affectionate in the epilogue when for so long hes been distant? she does not even ask much of john--just to be there for him sometimes, and to live honestly. she is also incredibly kindhearted. comforting other women in the camp, offering a listening ear, taking care of john when hes injured. she puts in her share of effort when it comes to finding a job in the epilogue and maintaining beechers hope.

molly is a young woman who is presumably incredibly far from her home where her family is, and trying to navigate a way of life completely unfamiliar to her. her stuck up nature comes not only from the way she was raised, but also dutch's uplifting affection and presumed lovebombing in the early stages of their relationship. shes even been suggested to be somewhat sociable until dutch and her became somewhat of an official item, in which she grew somewhat of a bigger ego with a mentality that she was his right hand. she deeply depended on dutch for her stability in every way, and its evident in her eventual spiral. she hated being seen as weak and pitiful as somewhat of an outsider among outsiders. she seemed to be close to no one besides dutch, who repeatedly cut her off when she attempted to talk to him about her growing feelings of anxiety, paranoia and sadness. the loss of the one thing that had built her up, coupled with immense tragedy she just wasnt used to, and desperate for a semblance of respect and dignity that she had presumably been all too accustomed to, of course she was going to come off brash and confront dutch about his distant, high and mighty attitude. it's why by the end, she doesnt care if she is killed: there is nothing left for her. karen's comment about her pretending to rat them out for the sake of attention is also interesting in terms of their relationship and parallels, which i dont see ANYONE talk about.

karen very clearly struggles with...a lot. she has even said so herself when talking with molly. she struggles to accept help, evident in pieces of dialogue where she brushes off concerned gang members about her drinking (mary-beth, arthur, javier), and when she seems somewhat ashamed and embarrassed having to have been rescued by arthur in the valentine mission (SAYING EXPLICITLY "i dont much like being saved"). she struggles with believing people have good intentions/feelings toward her, illustrated in the way she's constantly rejecting sean, yet seemingly disappeared further down the bottle after his death, and her conversation with mary beth and tilly about the world having no equal and fair place for women. her negative experiences in the world as a woman could also influence her view of the world, perhaps being why she finds herself somewhat hostile toward feminist mindsets and why she, for a while, enjoyed the outlaw lifestyle: it was her little slice of freedom. her hatred for the rich can also be because she has experiences as a poor woman, perhaps some direct experiences in which rich people have negatively impacted her life. though molly and karen don't get along through most of the game, karen actually tries to step in and help her near the end, and its this action + defending her after her death that shows she was sympathetic toward her situation and on some level able to relate to it, both craving some kind of love beyond superficial things.

@/cryptidcr3ature said it very well in a post i reblogged recently: mary is essentially "her brother's keeper and her father's caretaker". she herself lives somewhere middle class with traditional notions of the time impacting her views on arthur's lifestyle and anything below those middle class standards being deemed as socially unacceptable (which is evident from the very first letter mary sends to arthur, in which she seems confused on what a polite term would be to refer to prostitutes, who were obviously thought very lowly of in the time). i also don't think its fair to criticise her condemnation of arthur's lifestyle when pretty much all audiences, contemporary and not, including members of the gang, acknowledge that it isnt anything pretty. killing is not fun. running from the law is not fun. mary was not only influenced by her father's views of arthur (a person that, despite being horrible, she still deeply loves), but looking after her own family, herself, and arthur's wellbeing when she ended their relationship + suggested they run away. she had given him an opportunity at compromise. perhaps the first time, scared and unfamiliar with his lifestyle, she had offered arthur an ultimatum: her or his outlaw life, but later was willing to also leave behind her brother and father, two figures that tie her down and make her life more miserable than need be despite loving them very much, in order to settle somewhere with arthur and start over. her asking for arthur's help comes from a place of desperation and excuse to allow herself some semblance of stability when she hadn't had it; at least not since her mother and husband passed. if arthur refuses to help her, she is incredibly understanding and sympathetic. she does not lash out. if arthur does help, she is immensely grateful, and even tries to bond with him despite their years apart.

this post isnt to excuse some of their more negative behaviours and aspects of their characters'-- but im saying that they deserve to be fairly treated and analyzed just like any of the rdr men. many of them are young. many of them have unique challenges as women. that isn’t to say the men have it easier, but their struggles and less prettier aspects of their characters are always met with more sympathy than the women. why do arthur and john get passes as reformed absent fathers and criminals? why does sean receive sympathy when karen rejects his pushy advances? why does hosea get a pass at being better than dutch when he still groomed younger members of the gang for a life of crime alongside dutch? why does dutch get a pass by having his downfall be justified by tough circumstances? lets just be fair

[rustingcat]

Art

Lena didn't realise how dangerous it was to go shopping for baby stuff, especially with a Kara by her side.

Every little outfit and toy was the most adorable little thing she just had to have. Every single one. She held out some hope for Kara to somehow be the sensible one, or banking on her Luthor genes to make her see reason, but as much as she tried she was not immune to the irresistible power of baby clothes.

"Look! This shirt has pictures of dinosaurs in space!" Kara said, pointing at the little adorable shirt she pulled off from the shelf. Lena thought it was the most genius design she'd ever seen.

"Okay, that is cute. You can add it." Lena tried to sound authoritative but had a feeling she was somehow failing to do so.

"Isn't that too many shirts already?" Good thing they had Brainy and Nia with them at the very least to help keep them in line.

"But it's so cute!" Nia countered Brainy's sound argument. Okay, they were lucky to have Brainy. Nia was the worst enabler.

"Kids go through many shirts! Plus, we have two." Kara tried to solidify Nia's argument. Nia in turn collected a few more shirts for their pile in the hope that Brainy would agree.

"They go through many clothes mainly due to their many growth sprouts they experience in a short time, so there's no need to purchase thirty four shirts of similar size." He calmly explained.

"Thirty four, did we really get that many?" Lena asked, slightly concerned she somehow missed the amount they were carrying up to this point. "We should probably return most of them to the shelves, get some different size clothing."

"They don't have bigger sizes at this store, and this is the cutest thing ever!" Kara argued.

"We still have to put most of them away."  Brainy really had a point.

"How can you give up on those?" Kara pulled up a random selection of shirts from their cart, all just as amazing and cute as the rest.

"It's cute, but at the end of the day it's just some silly pictures, we can get them more stuff as they grow." Lena tried her best to resist the power of the shirt. She really should've stopped picturing the way it would look at their future babies.

"It's art Lena! It's important!"

"How?"

"It would help develop their creativity and innovation! Stimulate their mind to become whatever they want to be!"

Lena narrowed her eyes, studying her closely. "We can keep half." She sighed

Kara took that as a small victory and started to categories them as best she could given the circumstances (the circumstances being all of them being cute).

"You're gonna be one of those mothers who can't say no to your kids, won't you?" Nia asked in a hush tone.

"She was unable to say no to Kara, despite her ridiculous, yet not baseless arguments. So I very much doubt she would be able to say no to two little adorable toddlers." Brainy interjected before she had a chance to answer.

He had a point.

"You said that her argument was not baseless, does it mean we can get more shirts?" Nia tried.

Brainy swallow, obviously trying his best to remain the sensible one in the group.

"One." He eventually said. Nia was already by Kara's side.

"We're all doomed, aren't we?" Brainy asked Lena, his eyes trained on his wife and Kara who were already in a heated debate regarding the tiny clothing.

"Oh, yes. Very doomed." Lena answered back. Those kids were about to run them wild.

[slushiepizza]

Marie and Mother Mary

Relationship : Marie & Milo Greer

Tags : Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Partum Depression, Gender Roles, Catholicism, Motherhood, Italian American Marie Greer

Word Count : 1,510

ao3

Notes and Warnings:

this fic kind of surprised me because I'm not super into the Shaw Pack. But I do find Marie Greer's presence and bits and pieces we know of her character fascinating. I wanted to explore Marie's mind and feelings about being a mother when she's dealing with a gambling husband; and for her to raise someone like Milo Greer- she must've done a great job as a parent.

I took inspiration from my own experiences growing up with Catholicism and specifically in relation to the biblical Mary as a religious figure; and how mothers often find comfort in the thought of a figure who related in their struggles of motherhood and womanhood. It also has a theme of gender roles/ alluding to rigid gender identities because of the circumstances that Marie grew up in.

This fic isn't really... religious per se, and it takes more of a neutral standing while still criticizing how religion could be used to provoke feelings of personal guilt and trauma in someone who grew up in it, while also giving comfort to anyone that needed the universe to say that everything will be okay. If any of the themes may cause distress in you, I do implore you not read this fic, as consuming writing is a vulnerable activity.

The year was 1993. Marie Greer walked into the empty church lot with her baby in her arms. It had been decades since she last stepped on its stone floors. The security guard stationed outside looked at her strangely, but let her in once she asserted that she was there to pray.

She passed the main building for a small garden in the back. There were rows of wooden benches but nobody to be found. Good. Marie didn’t want company at the moment. To call it a garden was an overstatement- it was tiny and cramped, overgrown with vines. In front of the benches, the centerpiece of all the foliage was a statue of the Virgin Mary. Mother Mary, she thought, the double entendre not escaping her. 

As soon as she sat down right in front of the statue- Milo wailed inconsolably like he always did. 

The baby’s loud cries echoed disturbing whatever peace that was left from the place. Marie sighed, tired and weary, of this. He was an especially sensitive child, smaller than other babies his age. Marie was used to catering to people who’d fuss over the littlest things, Colm had a particular affinity for order and cleanliness whenever he came back from blowing his month’s earnings in a night, after all. The addition of Milo to the family just added more on her plate- she had to catalog every single one of his many allergies, and make sure that the room was never dusty because he’d have a coughing fit otherwise. The replacement of their popcorned ceiling had not been cheap, either, not with Colm leaving barely anything left after his trips to Vegas.

She did this all for love. For him. For her husband. But oftentimes, she felt like there was nothing left of her to give. Dry. Hollow. 

She shushed Milo and lightly rocked him in hopes that he’d calm down but to no avail. He thrashed and turned, his nails accidentally scratched her in the arm. Marie winced and tried to soothe him, lightly patting his back. It took thirty minutes of rocking and soothing Milo until the baby went back to sleep. 

St. Mary’s weathered ivory-colored face looked down at her, her expression blank and unmoving. Her lips were sculpted into a serene smile. Her pupil-less eyes gazed back at Marie. 

Just like any other Italian-American family at the time, church was a routine for Marie growing up. Her mother would dress them in their Sunday’s best and wrangled her and her seven unruly siblings into the building. “Quit fussin’ your pigtails, Marie. I did that real pretty for you,” she’d chide. They’d sit in the back of the church because tardiness ran in that family’s blood like a curse. 

Past the twelfth and thirteenth pews, God felt distant. 

Marie would follow everything diligently. She stood up when everyone else stood up as the priest lifted the circular white wafer, the body of Christ, above the altar. As a child, her height wouldn’t allow her to catch a single glimpse of it. She’d comfort her younger siblings whenever they’d make a ruckus. But the whole thing- it went one ear out of the other. 

She could’ve sworn she tried her best to listen and followed whatever the adults did. 

I have greatly sinned, escaped past her lips as she did the same thing she had now, rocking her baby sister in her arms. At the time, she hadn’t even lost her milk teeth. 

She stopped going when she married Colm. He was the opposite of the man her mother wanted her to marry, and in retrospect, she felt that it was one of the many reasons she liked him. His mind was raucous, his eyes wild and unmoored. Like nothing was holding him back. Colm used to be an ambitious man- the thrill of being an Investigator for DUMP perfect for his unrested soul. 

Marie loved that part of him, the fact that he’d question everything, unbelieving in anything unproven. 

He said that he wanted to purge the world of assholes- the unjust, those who hurt others for their own sake. As he turned in empowered criminals in the pursuit of it, he became one himself. 

Marie met St.Mary’s gaze- almost challenging her hollow stare. Something surged through her, from the ache in her back settling to her tight diaphragm.

After the birth of her boy, Mary couldn’t cook or clean. All she did was stay in bed. Her sister came by to help take care of the house while Colm stepped outside as usual. She said that it was normal, her body had been through hell, after all. But the heavy feeling, the heaviness that settled in her chest persisted for the next two months.

 Marie hated feeling helpless- her house a mess, and her baby cried constantly. She was a woman of action, and stagnation shackled her, leaving her trapped. Her visit to the psychiatrist- and the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual- had told her that it was depression with a postpartum onset. She told the doctor that she refused to accept that she was a ‘bozo who was sick in the head’ and that she will cure herself with a margarita and a sorely needed hair perm alongside a fresh coat of manicure. 

And look where that got her. Crying in front of a statue in church.

She still stared at the other Mary, the statue’s size and height caused her to look like she was looking down on whoever prayed in the confined space, guiding them iin a time of need. With that, for once, Marie realized that she was angry. 

She wasn’t stuck to her mattress, fatigued, and lacked energy because of sorrow- she was so angry, the weight of her job description as wife, mother, woman, wolf, dog, bitch- Marie weighed down on her like anchors. She was angry, at the fact that Colm was nowhere to be found throughout all this, angry at her mother- for making her a mother to her own siblings when she was barely a child, angry at the fact that she couldn’t even love her child properly because she no longer had any love left in the hollow of her heart. 

The emotions had clawed the insides of her ribs and caused her to let out heavy breaths- she was a dog panting for air when there was none. 

“When does it get easier,” she demanded to the Mother of all Mothers through gritted teeth. “Tell me, Mary,” she begged, desperate, as tears started to roll down her face. “Tell me!” 

“When does being a mother ever get any easier?”

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, as she started to sob and heave quietly. 

A soft breeze blew past the branches of the trees that surrounded her. It moved the leaves and allowed them to move gently back and forth. The statue still looked down at her, hand slightly outstretched in a supposed kind, helpful gesture. Ants crawled from the crack in the marble, they moved past Mary’s dress down to the hem, circling around her exposed foot, past the head of the sneak that was crushed triumphantly under her toes. 

Marie sank into her seat, tired. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, sniffling. Unbecoming of her, she thought. She’d rather die than let anyone see her like this. But there was a comfort between women, she supposed. Damage from rain stained Mary’s cheek like tears- not unlike the thick mascara that currently ran down her own. The air was comfortable, easy, and Marie felt light. It reminded her of the 80s. Of girls in the bathroom of the disco, talking someone out of calling their past lovers as they applied lipstick and passed cigarettes between one another.

“I guess,” she sniffed. “I guess you know better, right?” she stared into a picture that hung on a distant wall. In it, St. Mary cried as she held Jesus' dying body. “He didn’t give you a hell of a good time either,” her voice cracked pathetically. 

Girl, tell me about it, Marie imagined the statue said. The Virgin Mary had the voice of her best friend in college. Is that not what being a mother is? The pain so bad, it feels like you’re splitting in two? Going through all seven hells for your baby’s sake?

“Why do we even put ourselves through this,” she chuckled sardonically. “If I wanted to go through pain, I’d rather just listen to Colm talk about whatever fish he caught on the weekend.” 

Mary didn’t answer, and Marie understood. Milo opened his big eyes in her arms and reached up to her with tiny hands. He giggled, light and oblivious to the puffiness of Mary’s face and the swell of her eyes. She cooed at him and held up a finger. Milo wrapped his hand around it, gentle. 

St. Mary’s serene smile was still plastered on her face, her hand outstretched in the air between them. 

[angsthology]

𖤓 intro to camellia ayudisha (ft. the commentary by yours truly)

-> series masterlist

Camellia, oh, Camellia.

She is as pretty as her namesake and as delicate as its petals.

If Jupiter was a hail-storm disrupting one’s lives (the so-called journalists are very dramatic, they should try writing a screenplay instead), Camellia was the gentle breeze in the early morning greeting your skin. If Jupiter has the sky and storm in her control, Camellia was the wind god that has control over whether or not your hair is going to stick to your lip gloss.

Not everyone can understand her beauty but anyone who does has been blessed with the right retinas.

Her presence is one that people debate whether she should be driving at all when she feels like royalty (and let’s be honest, a passenger princess), someone in deserving to the throne under that crown.

She is the person you think of when you hear the phrase ‘pretty girl’. Fitting to her name, she looked like she was hand-picked in the prettiest flower field; sweet dark chocolate-colored eyes under her long lashes (everyone, me included, very jealous of those) — her dark, once black hair turned brown from her continuous sun exposure (especially the one that is in her hometown), her skin that warm-toned tan color. And you could never miss her delicate face, cheekbones high and visible on her round face—(something everyone goes crazy for? Post-race glistens where all of her light makeup is either gone or has become one with her skin giving her face that glow).

When people throw around the term ‘Grid Princess’ it only truly sticks to her and only truly serious with her.

Everyone knows the story, the ‘myth’ of Camellia Ayudisha; had her father not meet her mother, had he not marry her, had he not created Camellia, she would be a princess—well, she’d also be nonexistent but if she did exist—she does, but under different circumstances—she would be.

You get what I mean.

She is how one might say… perfect.

The perfect role model, perfect ‘intro’ of sorts, the perfect woman.

She was, the firs and foremost of ‘her kind’, she set the path for women in motorsports, and there was no one better to do it than her. She is perfect.

Perfect Camellia is the media angel, perfect Camellia would never go against the rules, perfect Camellia would never out-do her teammate in equal machinery. (well, she still did.)

The perfect male fantasy as to what a female Formula One driver should be.

Well, she was perfect to them. For the first three years of her career, she was as well-behaved as everyone expected her to be, she didn’t fail anyone’s expectations. The perfect fantasy.

“WHAT IS THIS? Camellia Ayudisha’s Toro Rosso has overtaken Nico Rosberg in the Mercedes! If she keeps this up for a few more seconds she will be making history as the first ever woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix… Oh my Goodness! SHE CROSSES THE FINISH LINE! THE CHECKERED FLAG HAS WAVED FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS WEEKEND! CAMELLIA AYUDISHA HAS WON THE TWO-THOUSAND-SIXTEEN JAPANESE GRAND PRIX!” the commentator yells into his mic, cheers following in the background at what just happened.

The crowd was loud with their gasps and cheers, even those who weren’t her supporters managed to had the jaws slack.

Her radio was much worse,

“THAT IS P1! MEL, YOU JUST WON A GRAND PRIX! YOU’RE THE FIRST WOMAN IN HISTORY TO WIN A GRAND PRIX! CONGRATULATIONS! P1 oh I can’t take this, take it in Mel… you’ve just made history.” Her engineer and entire team celebrated in her ears, prompting tears to form in her eyes.

When they heard her voice again, her emotions were contagious, “Demi apa… Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… I did that…” her voice giving away her tears. “I can’t believe it…”

“Oh, you best believe it, this is your day! A day for women and girls everywhere, we all thank you.”

“Okay, Ray, I mean this in the nicest way possible… please shut up.”

And when they thought she was done talking to cry by herself, they were wrong.

“THIS IS FOR YOU MALIQ!” she cried into the radio, saying the words with her Indonesian accent heavy on her tongue.

They’ve just witnessed history live in front of their eyes.

Then there are the luckiest interviewers to have been blessed to get her first few words minutes by the history-maker herself.

Right after she was done getting weighed, Camellia walked over to her post-race interview. Her mouth in a permanent smile, one might mistake her for having just inhaled glue with her entire face.

“Look at you!” the interviewer greeted happily, “You’re glowing!”

She laughed lightly, “First time I’m hearing that. Thankfully not in a different circumstance…” her comment making the reporter and herself crack another laugh.

“No, seriously, you’re beautiful!” she can only smile at the compliment, “I guess winning does that to one, huh?”

She chuckled again, “I guess so…”

All-the-while she didn’t realize the visible tears that had ran down her cheeks, the tears that were still running down.

“Are you crying?” he asked with a light-hearted laugh.

When it came to her attention, Camellia immediately wiped it away and looked at the tear on her knuckle, “I can’t stop it, I swear…” she replied with the same light-hearted laugh.

“You just made history! I wouldn’t be able to stop crying too if I were you!”

It was known from then on, Camellia was not afraid to show emotion, her vulnerability. She took it all with great pride.

Many says she was ‘weak’ but more stated that she was unafraid, she was fearless.

“Wow, look at that, only nineteen-years-old and had just marked her spot in history by winning her first Grand Prix.” The commentator narrated as the dark-haired girl was seen walking towards the podium with the 1st cap in one hand and the other pushing her hair back.

“Even the way she walks, just look at her! So elegant.” As she stepped on the top podium, teeth shining with her smile. So sweet, so beautiful.

“Now let’s hear it for the Indonesian national anthem.”

The smile on her face was the smile no one has seen before — which was saying a lot cause Camellia smiles for ninety percent of her life.

As her anthem plays, she removes her winner’s crown only for it to be replaced with the sun as if she wore a halo as her crown.

To the world, she could’ve done no wrong.

Until,

Ugh, until…

Jupiter Nightshade once again ‘ruined something that was once great’. — the media claimed.

Maybe there was always a flame inside of Camellia that the world had yet to see before ever in her Formula One career, a flame that was only set the season she met the rookie in Renault.

When the rookie won the driver’s championship in a Renault—it triggered something in her.

A rookie… had won… a championship before her. —In a Renault of all things! The first Renault driver with a championship since 2006! That was three histories she made in her first year.

In the early days of 2019, after months-long silence from the driver and her team, emotions and tension bubbled over the internet over their radio silence.

Until eventually, it broke out:

BREAKING: Camellia Ayudisha to leave Red Bull.

BREAKING: Camellia Ayudisha to join Mercedes in 2019.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

The reactions to her move grew opinions from the internet.

One spoke, ‘I need to lie down.’ (me too, and I did kinda) — another yelled, ‘her and Lewis as teammates… SIR LEWIS HAMILTON AND THE PRINCESS, I won.’ (they do look beautiful together, who doesn’t love colonizer and colonizee royals as teammates) — unfortunately another man spat; ‘who does she think she is? Red Bull quite literally boosted her career.’ (she is Camellia and she did everything she has achieved herself, thank you very much and shut the fuck up.) — but when a man speaks (again, unfortunately) another person (as delusionally great they are) says; ‘CAMELLIA AYUDISHA 2019 WDC!’ (I like the spirit and enthusiasm, keep it up, you’re going to need it.) — ‘damn, no more Indonesian colonial times teammates [broken heart emoji]’ (I mean, well. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to that.) — and you obviously cannot forget the ones who is always going to be there for her; ‘I’m glad she left, I did not like the way they treated her there. To hell with that rocket ship, as long as she’s happy and okay that’s all I’m going to need for now.’ (she appreciates that a lot).

I mean, it’s not like any of that will matter, Camellia was known to be chronically offline. A grass-toucher, if you will. But by her profession, you could say gravel-toucher… enough.

Her name eventually became the equivalent to ‘surprise’. ‘Cause somehow, just somehow… she shocked the world again the time 2021 came around.

BREAKING: Audi to join Formula One for the 2021 season.

Carlos Sainz Jr. to drive alongside Camellia Ayudisha in Audi for the 2021 season.

The Royalty, the Flower, L’Angelo; Dewa Ayu Camellia Anisha Primaningtyas.

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