#he needs therapy and a big hug

[basil-does-arttt]

so we all know how Bury The Light as a theme song represents Vergil and subsequently his story and themes within DMC 5??

Well obviously that means Subhuman is the same for Dante. So i did some thinking (wow big surprise there shocking i know)

The TLDR of this is my conclusion that Dante is reckless and overconfident because of his half-devil nature and as a result disregards his life and safety. Also, that Dante has mixed feelings about his demon side.

Specifically what got me to this thought was the line we all know if you've listened to subhuman:

"You cannot kill me, i am subhuman."

And,

I mean come on, the message couldn't have been written any clearer here. Because he's part demon, because he's - as Dante puts it, assumably the writing of this song is from his POV much like i assume Bury the Light is from Vergil's POV - sub-human, he believes he cant die. That whatever is thrown at him, no matter what or how dangerous the situation is, he naively believes he will come out the other end unscathed.

And to be honest, he kinda has reason to believe that thus far. If being stabbed at least 5 times throughout your life and brushing each one off as if it were a mere scratch wasn't enough to convince him, defeating so many different great demonic beasts including Mundus himself definitely would. I mean, who wouldnt? Whatever hell throws at Dante, surely cant be any worse than the actual fucking demon king or his own brother post-DMC 5. In a sense, he believes he is immortal.

But that way of thinking is shallow, its naive and leaves him open to danger because it makes him cocky. He thinks he's untouchable, and that way of thinking could get him seriously hurt or worse if he isnt careful. (As we see in the beginning of DMC 5 actually. He thinks "eh, ive fought worse, how bad could this actually be?" That "Its only Vergil, and ive fought him before." Only to have his shit kicked in and end up in a coma for a month. Imagine if that happened with a different demon that wasn't so merciful as to keep him alive for all that time, who would've jumped at the opportunity to rip him to shreds in an instant.)

I also want to go into how the song reflects Dante's (poor) mental health and his thoughts on being a half-demon.

Its kinda hard to catch unless you really think about it but the song is clearly negative in tone when it comes to describing Dante's own devil form. "As i call upon the dark gift to erupt" is one line that sticks out to me and i think is the best example of this. I also believe from the song that Dante views his DT as a seperate entity from himself; "I feel the devil in me, we're coming right for you".

"Funny how the mind tries to sink me deeper, as the evil tries to turn me around." The evil could be in reference to other demons, yes, but it also could be referencing his own "demon"; "i must not forget that i have bled, from no respect to the demons in my head". Wether that line means he's gotten himself hurt because of his own recklessness or self-harm i cant tell, and i wont assume one or the other specifically.

Throughout the song too, the lines "i cannot erupt, i must control, i cannot erupt, i must explode" to me also seems like Dante struggles with control of his DT, and is scared of losing himself when triggered. The whole tone of the song seems like a rampage of sorts too, its very aggresive and almost violent. "Something save me, put me out of my destiny, and drop me safely in this hell"; yet at the same time as his fears toward his own DT, it feels natural to him, this kind of "bloodlust" he feels in his triggered form is something he doesnt want but he knows he cant keep from happening entirely, so as a result the most comfortable place for him is in danger. He can let loose and he doesnt have to worry when all he's killing is demons. One last thing, "i see right past me, the eyes are flashing" to me sounds like Dante becomes almost dissociated when triggered, he's not really present in his mind and body and is acting on pure instinct alone.

All in all, Subhuman (like i said earlier) at first just sounded like an epic battle theme for Dante, but when i really listen to it, it becomes much sadder. Of course all of this could just be me bullshitting so id love to hear other's takes on this.

i also wanna analyze Bury the Light too. So i might do that later.

[random-dragon-exe]

Ok so can we talk about poor Cricket?

The poor guy was mortified when he found out Chip was alive and was coming for him.

And that's putting it lightly. He flat out gets paranoid that if he doesn't do his best to hide, Chip will kill him and his family.

Now to be honest, I thought a paranoid role like this was going to go to Bill.

I thought that Bill's hinted anxiety would come to the surface and that he'll be paranoid because he wants to protect his family.

But no, instead they gave it to Cricket. (Which BTW, I'm not complaining, I like the angle they're going for, because angst)

I mean of course Cricket would be terrified of Chip coming back, the last time he saw him, Chip was literally about to do him and his family in with a helicopter. Twice.

It even gets to the point that he begins seeing things that aren't there.

I also find it interesting because at first, we're led to believe that Cricket wasn't that affected by Chip since in Chipped Off we see him literally dance in relief knowing he's dead on TV. But no, they brought it to attention that deep down he's terrified of Chip because at the end of the day, he's still a kid.

Like I never thought I'd say this, but I think Cricket needs to join the traumatized children's corner with Hunter, Luz, Marcy, Dipper, and Mabel. Then go to therapy with Sasha.

[akaneenaka33]

Thinking because I'm academically projecting and also about to strangle someone uh

In an AU where Tails goes to actual school (he's probably taking college courses at the age of 8 or 9 tbh lol) he's definitely one of those kids that goes "I got a 98.9% and not 100 or an A instead of an A+ what is WRONG with me how could I be such a complete and utter FAILURE I'm supposed to be so smart and yet I let down literally everyone with that one missed question I need to do better."

Basically if he's not surpassing the impossible standard he's set for himself he crashes out. Bro needs to split a chill pill with me I'm so done with this bs

[sugarcandydoll]

my cure to anxiety is reading nate jacobs reader-inserts hehe ♡🎀

[sadlynotthevoid]

I want to read a lcf fic where tboah cale from a shitty alt-universe gets thrown to lcf universe and now krs!Cale has to deal with an 18-20-year-old tboah!Cale with below zero self-esteem.

And it's permanent.

The universe-hop thing, not his low self-esteem (I hope).

Tboah!Cale doesn't mind staying there. Maybe he ended world-hopping on purpose, maybe he knew beforehand he was changing universes, maybe it was worth it, maybe he thought no one was going to miss him anyways. Maybe all of them.

And the Henituse family welcomes him. They're warm, they try to make him feel like one of them, they include him, talk with him, smile at him. They listen to him, actually listen, and try to get to know him—

—And that's more than anyone has done since his mom passed away.

They all have their ups and downs, of course. But they're slowly becoming a family and that means so much. And everyone is happy about it, too.

The most excited one out of them is Lily. She has four brothers now, even if she can't see one of them too often. Y'know, different worlds and everything. Besides, this new brother of hers practice martial arts like her—well, not exactly like her, but he fights— and joins at her training sometimes. He also fights as he walks, like an elegant cat. And she thinks that's cool and cute.

Deruth and Violan are going through an emotional roller coaster, just at different speeds. They both, although delighted to have another son, are experiencing a lot of feelings about the situation. Mostly worry about their new child who gets surprised every time someone is genuinely kind to him, but also shock because they have five children.

Still, Violan is overall content that all Cales are minimum willing to try, calmly bounding with each of them at their own rhythm each one. Tboah!Cale and her have styling afternoons once a week now. Deruth, on the other side, is silently having an existential crisis after another, overthinking about every reaction tboah!Cale has and wondering if og!Cale did or does the same, and feeling worse every time he can't remember. He already ordered Hans to punch him if he gets too trapped on it or does something stupid. He doesn't want to charge any of his children with that again.

Bassen accepted the whole world-hopping-alt!hyung really quick because he just got used to weird shit from krs!Cale and Cale!Roksoo's unique ways of thinking. Something like this was just bond to happen at some point.

He caught tboah!Cale's bad mental state on the first hours of meeting him and assumed it had to do something with their other selves. He just wants to know, why does his brother have to suffer in every life? At least he can do something about it now.

Bassen is very surprised when they announce that tboah!Cale is staying. He thought that was a given. Was it not?

Then they proceed to insist that the other should be the heir. Tboah!Cale wins but not for the reason he expected.

After some time living in this world with his new family, getting to know each other and healing, meeting Krs!Cale's friends, and just learning to be himself, Krs!Cale gets in his usual shit. Tboah!Cale is not amused. He goes after him, kick some people in the face, set fires a bad guy's pants, and comes back, wearing heels, with Krs!Cale over his shoulder.

That's how he and Alberu meet.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

tried to take a day off from writing. still woke up at 5am. let’s write then 😈🔥

[themosthatedbeingg]

If I were to Punish Every Angel who has Drunk the Blood, I would have fewer than I would wish. However, I am unhappy that you are both fighting. Have we not resolved this? ...have Our issues not been hashed together more than they should? Know peace, my sons. For my sake.

Fewer then his father would wish huh? “I see so just losing me is enough then..” he spat .

He was still grumpy his little brother was getting away with shit;

He is not pouting persay— he’s eons old he doesn’t pout.. he’s just … somewhat sulking . “Tell Gabe to apologize first and then maybe we’ll stop fighting~” he huffed .

@heaven-said

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 13: February 2024 - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, Me trying to write therapy sessions.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: ok wait, are we sending flowers??

Oscar: flowers seem good

Daniel: FLOWERS YES but like what KIND of flowers

Lando: nothing too funeral Lando: nothing too romantic Lando: nothing too "you almost died but like in a chill way"

Lewis: you guys are the worst crisis team I’ve ever seen

Oscar: YOU’RE IN THIS TOO LEWIS

Lewis: i’m saying it with love.

Daniel: ok no roses…roses feel wrong

Carlos: no lilies either, too funeral

Lando: sunflowers??

Oscar: too happy Oscar: feels like "yay you survived!" party energy

Daniel: small soft bouquet?

Lewis: yeah Lewis: something like daisies Lewis: baby’s breath Lewis: stuff that feels gentle

Oscar: Lewis Hamilton out here secretly a florist

Lando: I KNEW IT

Lewis: I just have better taste than you idiots.

Carlos: confirmed.

Daniel: ok so like gentle happy survival flowers

Oscar: can we also send cookies?

Lando: yesssssssss

Lewis: i’m ordering them now Lewis: no glitter. Lewis: no weird colors. Lewis: keep it simple.

Daniel: who’s writing the card???

Lando: "Dear Belle: Sorry the world is trash. Love, some idiots who are rooting for you."

Oscar: perfect.

Carlos: send it.

***

Text Messages: Daniel Ricciardo & Max Verstappen

Daniel: Hey mate. Daniel:  Just heard from Lewis what happened last night. Daniel:  Wanted to check — is Belle okay?

Max: Yeah. Mild concussion. Some bruises. They kept her overnight for observation. She’s home now. Resting.

Daniel: Fuck, man. Daniel:  I’m glad she’s alright. Daniel:  That must’ve been scary as hell.

Max: It was.

Daniel: If you need anything. Daniel:  Or if she needs anything. Daniel:  You know — groceries, errands, new car — whatever. Daniel:  We’re all around.

Max: Appreciate it. Thanks, mate.

Daniel: Seriously, anything. Daniel:  Give her a hug from all of us, yeah? We’ll send flowers. Oscar insisted on Cookies too. 

Max: I’ll tell her. She’ll appreciate it.

Daniel: Good. Tell her we’re all thinking about her. ***

Leclerc Family Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale)

Arthur: Hey, can you grab croissants on your way over?

Charles: And coffee. Please.

Lorenzo: Maman needs flowers for her lunch today.

Pascale: Isabelle, mon ange, if you have time, could you pick up some things from the market?

Isabelle: Yeah, no. Can’t. I was in a car accident last night.

Arthur: ???

Charles: WHAT.

Lorenzo: What do you mean you were in a car accident???

Arthur: This better not be a joke.

Isabelle: I’m fine. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit me. I spent the night in the hospital for observation, but I’m okay.

Pascale: WHY AM I ONLY HEARING ABOUT THIS NOW?

Arthur: Yeah, kinda rude to just drop that on us.

Isabelle: EXCUSE ME???

Charles: Were you driving too fast?

Isabelle: NO.

Arthur: Were you on your phone?

Isabelle: IT WASN’T MY FAULT.

Lorenzo: But are you sure you weren’t distracted?

Isabelle: I swear to God.

Charles: Okay, okay. Do you need anything?

Isabelle: Just rest.

Arthur: Sooo… no croissants?

Isabelle: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

Arthur: Just asking.

Pascale: Isabelle, you should have told me immediately.

Isabelle: It was the middle of the night!

Lorenzo: You still could have texted.

Charles: Next time, at least let us know sooner.

Isabelle: Next time??? Do you think I PLAN to get hit by a car???

Arthur: …so that’s a no on the croissants?

***

Isabelle was curled up on their couch, a blanket over her lap, her hair still a little messy from sleep and bruises peeking out from under the neckline of his hoodie. She was nursing a cup of tea when Max came in from the kitchen with her breakfast.

“Here,” he said softly, setting the tray in front of her. “Eat something.”

She smiled up at him, touched. “Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, but as he sat next to her, she noticed his eyes drift toward her phone, still open to the Leclerc family group chat.

Max squinted.

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone already shifting.

Isabelle blinked. “Oh. Just my brothers being… them.”

Max, already suspicious, plucked the phone gently from her lap before she could stop him.

Scrolled. Read.

And then he went absolutely still.

When she finally looked at him, his entire body was tight with anger. Not explosive. Not loud.

Cold.  Sharp.  Deadly.

“They’re asking about croissants?” Max said, voice low and dangerous. “After you spent the night in the hospital?”

Isabelle opened her mouth. Closed it. Shrugged helplessly.

Max stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps across the living room like he needed to physically shake off the fury vibrating through him.

“They’re angry at you?” Max said incredulously. “For not calling them? After you got fucking hit by a drunk driver?”

Isabelle flinched. Not because he was yelling — he wasn’t.  Max’s voice had dropped into that awful, simmering tone he only used when he was one second from completely losing it.

“They’re blaming you?” he said, his voice rising just slightly, like he couldn't believe the words as they left his mouth. "Like you did something wrong?"

"It’s not that bad," Isabelle said automatically.

Max spun to face her. His expression was something brutal and raw.  "Don't," he snapped. "Don't defend them."

Isabelle curled tighter into herself, clutching the tea like it was a shield.

"They don’t mean it like that," she said weakly.

Max crossed the room in three strides, crouching in front of her again, his hands gentle even when his voice wasn’t.

"Belle," he said, fierce and low. "You could have died. You could have been killed. And their first reaction was to demand coffee and flowers and fucking croissants? To scold you like a child?"

Isabelle looked down, her throat burning.

Max caught her chin lightly, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You are not their errand girl," he said, every word knife-edged. "You are not an afterthought. You are not disposable."

Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Max’s face softened instantly.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe — but she didn't want to breathe anywhere else anyway.

Max let out a breath through his nose, still fuming. “Next time something happens, you tell me before you tell them. Actually—just always tell me first.”

“I did.”

That made him pause.

She looked up at him, soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You were the first and only person I called.”

The fight in Max deflated just a little. His jaw relaxed, and his shoulders slumped as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ll never make you explain why your pain is valid.”

Isabelle pressed a kiss to his jaw, and despite the aches and bruises, she felt lighter somehow. Safer. Seen.

Max kissed the top of her head again, his voice low against her hair.

***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Max Verstappen

Sebastian: Hey, Max. I heard about what happened in Monaco. Isabelle okay?

Max: ... How do you—

Sebastian: Lewis.

Max: Of course.

Sebastian: He didn’t say much. Just that it was bad. And that you were with her. I figured I should check in.

Max: She’s alright. Concussion. Bruises. Scared the hell out of me, but she’s recovering. Resting at home now.

Sebastian: Good. I’m glad she’s safe. And I’m glad she has you.

Max: Thanks. Really.

Sebastian: Brave of you, keeping it from Charles. Man’s got a temper.

Max: So do I.

Sebastian: 😅 Fair enough. Sebastian:  But seriously — that’s not an easy line to walk. Sebastian:  Keeping something that important private.

Max: It’s not about him. It’s about her. She’s not ready for them to know. I’ll wait until she is. Whatever it takes.

Sebastian: Good. You’re doing the right thing. Sebastian:  (And honestly... I don’t think Charles deserves to know until she’s ready to make him see her properly.)

Max: Agreed.

Sebastian: If you need anything — if she does — let me know. Tell her I’m thinking of her.

Max: I will. She’ll appreciate that. She always liked you, you know.

Sebastian: I like her, too. Always thought she was the strongest Leclerc. Even if no one noticed.

Max: I noticed.

Sebastian: I know. That’s why she’s with you.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: Hey. Wanted you to hear it from me. Belle was in a car accident last night. Drunk Driver T-boned her. 

Emilie: WHAT. Emilie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN. Emilie: IS SHE OKAY???

Max: She’s okay. Bruised, mild concussion. No serious injuries. She’s home now. Resting.

Emilie: Max. You can’t just DROP that on me. I nearly had a heart attack.

Max: Sorry. Didn’t want you finding out through someone else.

Emilie: Thank you for telling me. Is she... really okay? I mean, really?

Max: She’s shaken. But the Volvo did it’s job. It could be so much worse.  

Emilie: Good. Emilie:  Protect her, Max. Or I’ll break your kneecaps. (With love.)

Max: Would expect nothing less from you.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

Isabelle: Hi??

Emilie: DON'T "hi" me. Emilie: I just found out you were in a CAR CRASH??? Emilie: A drunk driver hit you?? Emilie: AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???

Isabelle: I was going to... Isabelle: I just didn’t want to worry you. I’m okay. Isabelle: Bruises, concussion. That’s it. I promise.

Emilie: Isabelle. Emilie: You’re literally my favorite human being on this planet. Emilie: You do not get to almost die and then not tell me.

Isabelle: 🥺

Isabelle: I’m sorry. Isabelle: I really am. Isabelle: It was just a lot last night. And Max was already there and—

Emilie: WAIT. Emilie: Max was there?? Emilie: You called him first???

Isabelle: ... Yeah.

Emilie: 😭😭😭😭 Emilie: Okay. Fine. Emilie: At least SOMEONE was looking after you. Emilie: (Still a little bit furious tho.)

Isabelle: I deserve that. I’m sorry.

Emilie: You are not allowed to apologize for getting hit by a drunk driver you absolute gremlin. Emilie: I’m just glad you’re okay. Emilie: (And also kinda glad Max is apparently ready to physically fight Monaco if needed.)

Isabelle: He’s very serious about it 😅

Emilie: Good. Emilie: You deserve people who take your safety personally. Emilie: And you deserve better than people who think you should apologize for surviving.

Isabelle: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 Love you.

Emilie: Love you more, Belle. Emilie: See you soon. Emilie: (Also, Max better share the couch or I will fight him.)

Isabelle: 😂 I’ll warn him.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: Hey. Need to tell you something.

Victoria: Everything okay??

Max: Yeah. Now it is. Max: Belle was in a car accident. Drunk driver hit her.

Victoria: WHAT. Is she okay????

Max: Yeah. Concussion. Some bruises. She’s home now. Safe.

Victoria: Oh my god. Max. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Max: Took a few years off my life. But yeah. Better now.

Victoria: I can’t even imagine. Seeing something like that happen to someone you love... Victoria: I remember when you crashed in Silverstone…For a moment it just…that feeling. That helplessness.  Like the world could just... rip the person you love away from you at any second. I know what that feels like.

Max: Yeah. Exactly that. One second everything’s normal. Max: Next second you’re standing in a hospital room wondering how you’re supposed to keep breathing if they don’t.

Max: Feels like everything inside me cracked open at once. Max: I’m never letting anything happen to her again. Max: I don’t care what I have to do.

Victoria: You can’t protect her from everything, Maxie. I wish we could. But you’re doing the most important thing already. You’re there. You love her. You make her feel safe. That’s more than enough.

Max: Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.

Victoria: It always feels like that when you really love someone. It’s the cost. But it’s worth it.

Victoria: She’s lucky to have you. And you’re lucky to have her.

Max: I know.

Victoria: Give her a hug from me. And Max?

Max: Yeah?

Victoria: Give yourself a little grace too. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re allowed to love her that much.

Max: Thanks, Vic.

Victoria: Always.

***

The apartment was dim and warm, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. One cat was sprawled across Max’s legs, purring softly; the other had wedged itself stubbornly against the arm of the couch.

It was quiet, comfortable — but Max barely noticed.

He was too busy keeping an eye on the hallway, listening for any sound of her.

Isabelle finally padded into the living room, wearing one of his hoodies and soft pajama shorts, her hair damp from a shower. She carried a mug of chamomile tea between her hands like it was a lifeline.

Max’s chest tightened when he saw the bruises — angry marks along her collarbone, a purple smear near her temple just so peeking out from underneath the bandage that covered her stitches — but she looked a little better.

Softer around the edges.

Steadier.

She settled in beside him without hesitation, leaning lightly into his side.

“Hey,” she said, voice gentle and tired but still teasing, still her. “What are we doing for Valentine’s Day tonight?”

Max blinked down at her like she had asked him if he wanted to fight a bull barehanded.

He set the remote down and turned fully toward her.

“Nothing,” he said firmly. “You’re resting.”

Belle blinked, surprised. “Nothing?”

“You got out of the hospital this morning, Schatje,” Max said, brushing his knuckles carefully along her jaw. “You’re bruised, concussed, exhausted. You’re not putting on a dress or pretending you have the energy for anything.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking restaurant. I was thinking… I don’t know. Candlelight? Dessert? A dumb rom-com?”

Max’s heart softened instantly.

“That’s different,” he murmured. “That I can work with.”

For a moment, there was a lull — the safe kind — until Belle sighed quietly and looked down at her tea.

“I’m sorry I ruined it,” she said.

Max froze.

“What?” he asked, sharper than he meant to.

“Valentine’s,” she said, voice even quieter now. “We were supposed to have a real night. You always say you don’t care about this stuff, but you still try. And instead, I ended up in a hospital bed, and you had to spend the night watching me sleep in an awful chair.”

Max blinked at her.

Once.

Twice.

Then, without a word, he took the mug gently from her hands and set it on the table.

“Belle,” he said, low and serious, “you are absolutely insane.”

She frowned. “That’s not—”

Max cupped her face in both hands, his touch achingly tender, like he thought she might break if he wasn’t careful.

He looked at her like she had just split the world open and made everything new again.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, voice rough with the force of it. “You scared the hell out of me. That’s all. The only thing — the only thing — I cared about yesterday was that you were still breathing.”

Belle blinked, stunned.

Max leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “You’re breathing. You’re safe. That’s all I want.”

Belle closed her eyes tightly, a tear slipping free before she could stop it.

“I just wanted it to be special,” she mumbled.

Max pulled back just enough to see her face, his thumbs brushing lightly along her jaw.

“It is special,” he said, fierce and quiet. “You’re here. You’re with me. There’s nothing more special than that.”

He exhaled hard, trying to keep himself steady, but the fear — the pictures his mind supplied, of her bleeding and dazed in that broken car — hadn’t really left him.

“You could have died, Belle,” he said, voice shaking despite himself. “And if you think I give a fuck about Valentine’s Day after that—”

He broke off, swallowing hard.

“You’re sitting here apologizing because I didn’t get to give you overpriced flowers and a chocolate box?” Max shook his head, breathing out a shaky laugh that was half disbelief, half heartbreak.

Belle let out a breathy laugh too, her voice cracking.

“Well, when you say it like that, I sound ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous,” Max said fondly, his voice dropping to something unbearably soft as he kissed her forehead.

“You’re my Valentine every goddamn day, Belle. You don’t have to do anything except be here.”

And as he tucked her into his side, wrapping an arm around her, Max made himself a quiet, blistering promise:

Whatever it takes — he would make sure she always had a safe place to land.

***

Alexandra Saint Mleux had always loved Valentine’s Day.

Not for the grand gestures, not for the over-the-top declarations, but for the little things.

 The small, specific ways Charles made her feel seen every year.

Last year, it had been a bracelet with a tiny charm that matched a doodle she'd made in a notebook once.

It was never about the price or the spectacle.

It was the way Charles remembered the quiet parts of her — the parts no one else seemed to notice.

Which was why she knew, before he even handed her the gift this year, that something was... off.

The box was beautiful — simple, elegant, wrapped in gold paper.  But when she opened it, it was a generic necklace. Pretty, but impersonal.

Something anyone could have picked out of a catalog.

Charles was smiling at her expectantly, the way he always did, waiting for her reaction.

And she smiled back — because she loved him, because she didn't want to ruin it — but a small, quiet ache bloomed in her chest.

It wasn't about the necklace.

It was about the feeling that something had slipped, unnoticed, between them.

They went out for dinner after — a cozy little restaurant tucked away from the paparazzi, candles flickering between them — but even there, Charles seemed... distracted.

 Tense in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It wasn’t until dessert, when she asked casually about his family, that she got a piece of the puzzle.

"Isabelle was in a car accident," Charles said offhandedly, swirling the last of his espresso.

Alexandra's heart stuttered. "Oh my God — is she okay?"

He shrugged, too casual. "It was just a little fender bender. Nothing serious. She’s fine."

Alexandra frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Charles said, waving it off. "She said she was fine."

He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t offer any more.

And Alexandra — who had seen the way Isabelle seemed to fold herself smaller whenever the family swirled too loudly around her — felt that same ache twist sharper.

Something told her Belle wouldn’t have made a fuss even if she wasn’t fine.

Something told her that Charles hadn’t really looked.

She said nothing, just smiled and let Charles change the subject back to racing, back to schedules, back to anything but the sister who maybe, just maybe, needed him to see her.

Alexandra tucked the necklace back into its box when she got home that night.

 It was beautiful.

 It just wasn’t quite hers.

***

The apartment smelled like coffee and something sweet.

Max had gotten up early — not because he was particularly good at mornings, or baking — but because Belle deserved something warm and comforting.

He’d managed toast, burnt only slightly, and found the last few frozen chocolate croissants buried at the back of the freezer.

Small things.

Safe things.

Belle was curled up on the couch in one of his old hoodies, knees tucked beneath her, Lilly on her lap, while Jimmy was laying on her legs and Sassy sat next to her like this was all beneath her, but was slowly inching closer, jealous to at she wasn’t getting any attention.

She looked small.

Tired.

Healing.

Max was wiping his hands on a dish towel when a knock came at the door.

He frowned, crossing the apartment in a few quick strides.

When he opened it, a delivery man stood there — arms full.

Two enormous bouquets, one a soft explosion of yellow and white, the other a careful arrangement of pink and cream roses, and a box tied up with a silky ribbon.

Max blinked.

Took the flowers and box with a muttered thanks.

Kicked the door shut behind him.

Belle looked up immediately, eyebrows lifting when she saw what he was carrying.

“What’s all that?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

Max set everything carefully down on the coffee table, tugging the little notes free from between the stems.

He read the first card — his mouth curving into a small, real smile, the kind he barely remembered how to make before her.

“This one’s from my family,” he said, tossing the card onto the table for her to see. “Flowers from my mom. Chocolate from Victoria.”

Belle’s mouth fell open slightly. “They didn’t have to—”

Max shrugged. “They wanted to.”

He kissed the top of her head before reaching for the second card, tucked between the wild, chaotic second bouquet and the neatly wrapped box underneath.

He read it, and let out a soft huff of laughter.

“And,” he added, setting the card down, “these are from the idiots.”

Belle blinked. “The idiots?”

Max leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out lazily. “Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Carlos, Daniel. Group effort. They sent you flowers and a box of cookies.”

Belle stared at him, completely thrown.

“They said,” Max quoted dryly, “and I’m reading here, ‘Dear Belle: Sorry the world is trash. Love, some idiots who are rooting for you.’”

Belle let out a small, incredulous laugh — the first real one he’d heard from her since the hospital— and covered her face with her hands.

Max just watched her, something warm and achingly fond spreading through his chest.

When she lowered her hands, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes suspiciously bright.

“They’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

“They are,” Max agreed. “But they mean it.”

He shifted closer, resting his hand lightly against her thigh.

“Victoria sends her love, by the way,” he added. “Said next time you’re in the Netherlands, you’re not allowed to leave without a girls’ day.”

Belle laughed again — a softer, breathier sound this time — and toyed absently with the edge of her sleeve.

There was a pause.

A shift.

And then, almost too quietly to hear, she said:

“Your family’s starting to feel like mine too.”

Max stilled completely.

He turned, reaching for her hand instinctively, finding her fingers and curling his own around them.

Belle looked up at him, vulnerable in a way she almost never let herself be — open and a little raw, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it out loud.

Max melted.

Utterly.

He cupped her face gently in both hands and kissed her — slow, deliberate, reverent — like he had all the time in the world just to love her properly.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough with emotion.

“They already think of you that way,” he whispered against her forehead. “You’re one of us, Belle. You always will be.”

She blinked fast, trying and failing to fight the tears burning her eyes.

Max just pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

Not too tight.

Just enough.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Victoria Verstappen

Isabelle: Hi Victoria, Thank you so much for the flowers and chocolates. It really meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do all that.

Victoria: First of all: YES I DID. Second: you’re welcome. Third: you’re stuck with us now. No returns. No exchanges. No refunds. Family policy. Love you.

Isabelle: 😭 I love you too.

Victoria: Tell Max if he doesn’t keep spoiling you, I’ll show up and do it myself. (And make it VERY public and VERY embarrassing.)

Isabelle: 😂 I’ll warn him.

Victoria: Good girl. Rest up. Heal. And when you’re ready, come visit — Lio made you a "Get Well" card and it’s mostly just glitter but the intention was pure.

Isabelle: I can’t wait to see it. Thank you, Vic. Really. For everything.

Victoria: Always, Belle. Always.

***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Kimi Räikkönen

Sebastian: You’re not going to believe this. (Or maybe you will. You’re hard to surprise.)

Kimi: Busy. Make it fast.

Sebastian: Max Verstappen is dating Isabelle Leclerc.

Kimi:  Huh. 

Sebastian: That’s it? Huh??? I just dropped a nuclear paddock secret on you!

Kimi: Not my business. If they’re happy, who cares.

Sebastian: I mean. True. But still.

Kimi: Good for them. Hope she can handle him. Not many can.

Sebastian: I think she’s the only one who can.

Kimi: Makes sense. Quiet ones are dangerous. Good match.

Sebastian: Also apparently no one in her family knows yet. Including Charles.

Kimi: Charles will cry about it. Not my problem.

Sebastian: 😂

Kimi: Tell Max if he breaks her heart I’ll run him over with a snowmobile.

Sebastian: Will pass along the message.

Kimi: Good. Busy now. Kids want ice cream. Tell Max congratulations.

Sebastian: Will do. (Enjoy the ice cream.)

Kimi: Always.

***

Max hated this.

He wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise.

He stood by the door, suitcase packed, keys and phone in one hand, looking like someone had asked him to do the impossible instead of board a plane for pre-season testing.

Belle watched him from the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, her bruises faded now but still faintly visible under the soft lamplight.

"You have to go," she said gently, reading his mind like she always did.

Max grimaced, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I don’t like leaving you."

"You’re not leaving me," she corrected immediately, voice calm, steady.  "You’re going to work. You’re doing what you love."

Max ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling.

"You just—" he started, then stopped.  "You just got hurt, Belle. I should be here. I should be with you."

"You are with me," she said, rising slowly from the couch and padding over to him.

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Every time you call, every time you text, every time you think about me — you’re here," she said softly. "I’m not alone."

Max closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like he physically couldn’t help it.

"And you’ll be home before you know it," she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. "Then you can hover and fuss and drive me crazy again."

A reluctant, broken laugh escaped him.

"I don’t want to leave you," he said again, more quietly now.

Belle smiled, tears prickling her own eyes — because even now, even with the whole world pulling him in a thousand directions, he was still here with her first.

"You’re not leaving me," she said again. "You’re just chasing your dreams. And I’ll be right here when you get back."

Max bent his head, resting his forehead against hers.

"You’re my dream too," he whispered.

Her breath hitched.

"And you’re mine," she whispered back.

They stayed there for a long moment — just breathing together — until finally, finally, Max exhaled.

He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, like he needed to memorize her, and she kissed him back just as fiercely.

When he finally pulled away, it was with visible effort.

"Promise me you’ll rest," he said, brushing his knuckles down her cheek.

"I promise," she said. "And you — promise me you’ll drive safe. Listen to GP. Don’t try to out-stubborn the car."

Max huffed a quiet laugh. "Bossy."

"Someone has to be," she teased, smiling.

He kissed her forehead one last time, squeezed her hand, and finally — reluctantly — turned to leave.

Belle watched him go, feeling the ache of missing him before he’d even stepped outside the door.

But it was okay.

Because he would always come home to her.

And she would always, always be waiting.

***

Text Messages: Lewis Hamilton & Max Verstappen

Lewis: Mate.

Lewis: Did you just drop off a bag of stuff at my motorhome?

Max: Yeah.

Max: Belle made something for Roscoe.

Lewis: I just opened it.

Lewis: A handwritten note. And homemade vegan dog treats???

Max: She insisted.

Max: Wanted to thank you properly.

Max: Even though she’s supposed to be resting.

Lewis: I don’t even know what to say. The note made me emotional and Roscoe is probably going to try and mug me for the biscuits.

Max: Good. He deserves them.

Lewis: Tell her thank you.

Lewis: Seriously.

Lewis: She didn’t have to do anything.

Lewis: I was just in the right place at the right time.

Max: You stayed.

Max: It matters to her.

Max: It matters to me too.

Lewis: You’ve got a good one there, Max.

Lewis: Also, if Roscoe explodes with happiness, I’m sending you the vet bill.

Max: He’ll be fine. Belle double-checked the recipe three times.

***

GP had known Max Verstappen for a long time.

Long enough to recognize when something wasn’t sitting right under the surface — even when Max didn’t say a word about it.

He noticed it that morning, before Max even climbed into the car.  The slight tightness around his mouth.  The way his hands flexed once, sharply, before putting on his gloves.  The way his answers in the pre-session briefing were short, mechanical. Efficient, but colder than usual.

GP filed it away. Max would tell him when he was ready.

And he did — just after the second run of the day, in the shade behind the Red Bull garage, water bottle in one hand, telemetry printout in the other.

“She was in a crash,” Max said, his voice flat enough that if GP hadn’t been paying attention, he might have missed it.

GP frowned, stepping closer. “Who?”

Max didn’t look up.  “Belle.”

The name hit harder than GP expected.

“What happened?” he asked, more sharply now.

Max’s jaw tightened. “Drunk driver ran a red. T-boned her car. Hit the passenger side, just behind the front wheel. Sent her spinning into a light post.”

 Quiet. Clipped.  Words that barely scratched the surface of the horror GP could hear pulsing beneath them.

GP stared. “Christ. Is she—?”

“She’s alright,” Max said. “Bruised. Concussion. Hospital kept her overnight.” He paused. “But it could’ve been a lot worse.”

GP’s stomach twisted sickly.  He couldn’t — wouldn’t — let himself imagine Max getting that phone call in the middle of the night. Wouldn’t let himself imagine what it must’ve felt like to walk into a hospital room and see Belle curled up in a stark white bed.

And then Max said, in that same low, steady voice that somehow carried more weight than shouting ever could:

“The Volvo you helped me pick out for her? It saved her life.”

GP went still.

The memory flickered: Max months ago, texting him…asking for his opinion. 

Just buy her a Volvo. Safe. Reliable. Built to last. Also one of the best crash-tested brands in the world. You did say you were thinking about kids, right?

And now — thank god — Belle was still breathing because of it.

GP swallowed thickly, feeling a knot loosen somewhere deep in his chest.

“Thank fuck,” he said hoarsely.

Max gave a short nod.  No dramatics. No sentimentality.

But GP could feel the magnitude of it radiating off him like heat off the tarmac.

This — this — was the side of Max Verstappen few people ever saw.  The side that loved without conditions.  That protected without compromise.

“Thank you,” Max said quietly. 

No dramatics. No fuss.  Just that heavy, quiet sincerity Max reserved for the rarest moments.

GP reached out and clapped a hand to his shoulder — a solid, grounding gesture — knowing Max didn’t need anything else from him right now.

"I’d do it again tomorrow," GP said.

Max nodded again, and GP watched him turn back toward the data screens, pulling his headset on, ready to work like nothing had happened.

But GP knew better.

Max had always raced like he had something to prove.  Now, this season, he was racing with something to protect.

And GP would make damn sure everything — the car, the strategy, the team — was ready for that fight.

Then there was no margin for error anymore.

Not even a sliver.

He pulled his headset back over his ears and keyed into the comms with a calmness he didn’t entirely feel.

“Let’s run another systems check before lunch,” he said smoothly.  “And someone triple-check the safety settings while you’re at it.”

The comm crackled to life with quick affirmatives.

***

Text Messages: Gianpiero Lambiase & Eloisa Lambiase

GP: We’re getting you a new car.

Eloisa: ???

Eloisa: Good morning to you too?

Eloisa: What’s wrong with my car?

GP: Not safe enough.

Eloisa: You’re the one who picked it out, love.

GP: Doesn’t matter.

GP: We’re upgrading.

Eloisa: Did something happen?

GP: Yeah.

GP: Belle — Max’s Belle — she was in a crash last week.

GP: Drunk driver ran a light.

Eloisa: Oh my god.

Eloisa: Is she okay???

GP: Shaken. Concussed. But alive.

GP: Because she was driving the Volvo Max bought her.

GP: The one I told him to get.

Eloisa: Oh.

GP: Yeah. That’s why we’re getting you a better car.

Eloisa: Gianni…

GP: No arguments.

GP: Please.

Eloisa: …okay.

Eloisa: But only if I get to pick the color this time.

GP: Deal.

GP: Something with five stars on every crash test rating.

GP: I’m sending you options this afternoon.

Eloisa:  (And coffee. You owe me coffee for giving me a heart attack.)

GP: Already on it.

GP: Triple order.

GP: Love you.

Eloisa: Love you too, you giant overprotective marshmallow

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Max: We need to get you a new car.

Isabelle: Max, I’m fine.

Isabelle: The Volvo did its job.

Max: Exactly. Which is why we’re getting another one.

Isabelle: You’re serious?

Max: Volvo customer for life now. I’m about to put their logo on my helmet at this point.

Isabelle: You’re ridiculous.

Max: Not taking chances, Schatje.

Max: Same model or you want to pick something else?

Isabelle: …I did love that car.

Max: Same brand, non-negotiable. Colour’s up to you. Same as before or something different?

Isabelle: Honestly? I liked the old one. That dark green felt like me.

Max: Then we’ll stick with it. Dark green it is.

Isabelle: You don’t have to do all this, Max.

Max: I do. I’m not letting you drive anything that isn’t built like a tank.

Isabelle: You’re going to spoil me until I forget how to function on my own.

Max: That’s the plan.

Isabelle: You’re impossible.

Max: You love me.

Isabelle: Very much.

Max: Fortunately, it’s mutual.

Isabelle: Fine. Dark green Volvo. But I’m picking the air freshener this time.

Max: Deal. As long as it’s not something that smells like cupcakes.

Isabelle: No promises. And it was strawberry. 

Isabelle: Consider it payback for forcing me into an indestructible Swedish fortress.

Max: Best decision I ever made. Second only to falling in love with you.

Isabelle: You’re dangerous when you’re sweet.

Max: Only for you.

***

Alexandra wandered the halls, pretending to admire a modern art installation while covertly people-watching — one of her favorite pastimes when the pace of life let her slip out of the Ferrari bubble for a few hours.

She was standing near a collection of minimalist sculptures when she caught snippets of a conversation between two women nearby, both well-dressed, deep in quiet, intense discussion.

"I still can't believe it," one woman murmured, her voice low but urgent. "She could have been killed. Did you see the photos? That car was destroyed."

Her friend nodded, wide-eyed.  "Near the tunnel, right? Total mess. And poor Isabelle  — I mean, she's so sweet. She did that whole project for our office last year."

Alexandra’s heart stopped.

She took a tiny step closer, pretending to examine the sculpture in front of her.

"Isabelle Leclerc," the first woman said again, confirming what Alexandra already knew. "Such a shame. She's so talented. And to walk away from something like that — it’s a miracle, really. They said the drunk driver didn’t even hit the brakes."

Alexandra felt her stomach churn.

Destroyed.  Miracle.  No brakes.

That didn’t sound like a fender bender.

That didn’t sound like "nothing."

Another man chimed in, sounding grim. "I heard the paramedics said it was a miracle she didn’t have internal injuries. They were worried about a collapsed lung at first."

Alexandra blinked hard, the art blurring in front of her.

Collapsed lung.

Not a fender bender.

Not nothing serious.

She pressed her lips together, hands curling slightly at her sides.

The women moved on, voices fading into the low hum of the gallery, but Alexandra stayed frozen in place for a long moment.

When Charles had told her about the accident, he’d been so casual. So dismissive.

Alexandra swallowed hard against the knot forming in her throat.

Isabelle hadn't been fine.

Isabelle had survived something horrific.

And Charles — either through ignorance or unwillingness — had looked the other way.

Again.

Alexandra didn’t know what bothered her more: the fact that Charles hadn't seen it, or the gnawing fear that maybe he did — and just didn’t know what to do with the parts of his sister that didn’t fit into the neat, tidy picture of the world he needed to believe in.

She glanced down at her phone, thumb hovering over Isabelle name in her contacts.

For a moment, she debated it — reaching out, saying something, offering something.

But what could she offer that wouldn't sound hollow?

Her family saw her as nothing more than background noise and Alexandra loathed to admit that she was guilty of the same on more than a few occasions. 

It was just…so easy not to think about Isabelle. Which sounded horrible, the longer she examined that thought. 

Isabelle was so happy in the background, so sweet and kind in a way that never seemed to want any kind of attention for it. 

 So easy to overlook. 

***

Text Messages: Alexandra Saint Mleux & Charlotte Di Pietro

Alexandra: Hey, random question. Did you know how bad Isabelle’s car accident actually was?

Charlotte: ?? I thought it was minor? That’s what Lorenzo said when I asked.

Alexandra: It wasn’t. I overheard people talking at the gallery tonight. Paramedics thought she might have had a collapsed lung. Car was totaled. Impact was bad — drunk driver didn’t even brake.

Charlotte: No one told me any of that. Lorenzo made it sound like a dented door and a headache.

Alexandra: Yeah. Charles too. He brushed it off like it was nothing.

Charlotte: …They’re acting like it’s an inconvenience.

Alexandra: Exactly. It’s been sitting wrong with me all night. Like there’s something broken there that no one’s talking about.

Charlotte: Maybe. But I do know they love her.

Alexandra: I don’t doubt that. But love isn’t the same as seeing someone. I’m not sure they know how to see her properly.

Alexandra: I am not sure we know how to see her properly. None of us thought to invite her to lunch…you know, when we ran into her. 

Charlotte: You are right…They aren’t the only ones guilty of forgetting her…

Charlotte: Speaking of forgetting. 

Charlotte: Guess who forgot about Valentine’s Day until the morning off. 

Alexandra: Oh? (Spill.)

Charlotte: Valentine’s Day. Lorenzo didn’t plan anything. Literally nothing.

He said, "Well, it didn’t feel like a big deal this year."

Charlotte: Later he grumbled that "normally Belle helps" and "everything feels off without her."

Alexandra: Wait, what?

Charlotte: Yeah. Apparently Belle used to remind them, plan ideas, even organize half the stuff so they wouldn’t forget.

Alexandra: …Oh my god. Alexandra: That tracks. Alexandra: You know, her friend once joked that Isabelle was the one who bought all my birthday presents from Charles.

Charlotte: Wait, seriously??

Alexandra: Apparently. Alexandra: I didn’t take it seriously at the time — Alexandra: Thought it was just teasing. Alexandra: But now… Maybe it was true.

Charlotte: She shouldn’t have to carry everyone. Charlotte: It’s not fair.

Alexandra: No, it’s not. Maybe it’s a good thing they’re feeling the consequences now.

Charlotte: Let them sit in it. They need to learn.

Alexandra: Agreed.

Charlotte: (Also. Are you ready for Arthur's dramatic downfall?)

Alexandra: LOL. The girlfriend disaster?

Charlotte: The girlfriend disaster. At this point, I’m tempted to bet how long until he posts a sad song on Instagram.

Alexandra: 100 euros says it’s before Thursday. Bonus points if he posts cryptic black-and-white stories too. With quotes he definitely doesn’t understand.

Charlotte: You’re on.

Alexandra: God help us all.

***

The Bahrain paddock buzzed under the heavy sun — mechanics shouting, tires rolling, the faint scent of burning rubber hanging in the air.

Charles leaned against the barrier separating the hospitality areas, sipping from a bottle of water as he chatted with Pierre, both of them still in their race suits, unzipped halfway down against the heat.

Pierre had just casually asked, somewhere between a joke and genuine concern, "Hey, by the way — your sister’s alright, yeah? Heard she had some kind of accident?"

Charles waved it off immediately, flashing a small, tight smile.  "Ah, yes. Isabelle is fine. Just a little fender bender."

Pierre nodded, a little relieved but still wary. "Good. Glad she’s okay. Monaco drivers, man."

Charles laughed lightly. "Exactly. Probably more dangerous in the city than on track."

But before he could say anything else, a voice cut through the air, calm and deliberate.

"It wasn’t a fender bender, Charles."

Charles blinked, turning instinctively toward the sound.

Lewis Hamilton stood a few feet away, gloves dangling loosely from his fingers, expression unreadable.

Charles frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Lewis shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was there."

The words dropped like stones into Charles’ stomach.

"I saw the crash," Lewis continued, voice low and even. "Drunk driver ran a red light. Slammed into her side full speed. Spun her into a pole. The car was totaled."

Charles opened his mouth — but no words came out.

Lewis wasn’t finished. "Isabelle was trapped in the car. Shocky. Barely able to talk. I called the ambulance. Stayed with her until they got there."

Charles’ heart kicked hard against his ribs, cold and sickening.

He tried — for a second — to picture Isabelle in that moment.

 Tried to imagine her small body pinned in a wrecked car, blood trickling down her forehead, gasping for breath.

It made something twist inside him — sharp and ugly and guilty.

"She’s lucky she survived," Lewis said quietly. "Don’t call it a fender bender."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Lewis gave him one last look — not angry, not cruel — just disappointed.  And then he turned, walking away toward the Mercedes garage without another word.

Charles stood frozen in place.

Pierre cleared his throat awkwardly after a beat. "Uh," he said lightly, "maybe you should... check on her properly. Yeah?"

Charles didn’t answer.

He just stood there, staring after Lewis, feeling — for the first time in a long time — the uncomfortable, foreign sensation of having missed something important.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz and Lewis Hamilton)

Lewis: Guys. GUYS.

Oscar: uh oh

Lando: what happened now

Lewis: Charles just called Isabelle’s crash a "fender bender." fender bender. LIKE. MINOR. INSIGNIFICANT.

Daniel: ...oh no.

Lewis: IT WAS BAD. Lewis: Bad enough that the car was crushed against a streetlamp. Lewis: Bad enough that she couldn’t even get the door open. Lewis: Bad enough that she was shivering and barely breathing and covered in cuts and glass.

Lando: Lewis is going full caps lock. This is bad.

Oscar: It’s worse than bad. He’s spiraling.

Lewis: I WATCHED HER BLEEDING IN A BROKEN CAR. Lewis: I HELD HER HAND UNTIL THE PARAMEDICS GOT THERE. Lewis: AND CHARLES IS OUT HERE LIKE "lol oopsie minor incident"????

Daniel: Breathe mate Breathe

Carlos: Yeah, deep breaths. We need you alive.

Lewis: HE CALLED IT A FENDER BENDER. I AM GOING TO LAUNCH HIM INTO THE SUN

Oscar: Not before Max does.

Lando: Max is gonna find out eventually and we will ALL need to evacuate Monaco

Lewis: I literally saw it. Lewis: I thought she was dead for a second. Lewis: And Charles didn’t even know how bad it was. Lewis: Didn’t even ask. Lewis: Didn’t even CARE.

Daniel: You okay mate?? Do you need snacks?? Or wine??

Carlos: Or a punching bag???

Oscar: Or a very large blunt object???

Lewis: I need Charles to grow a brain cell.

Carlos: Welcome to the nightmare brother.

Daniel: We have t-shirts.

Lando: and wine Lando: lots of wine

Oscar: and emergency stress snacks

Lewis: I’m bringing tequila next meeting. Lewis: We’re gonna need it.

***

Leclerc Siblings Group Chat

 (Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, and Lorenzo)

Charles: Isabelle. Why didn’t you tell me the accident was that serious??

Isabelle: Because you didn’t ask.

Arthur: Wait what? Serious?? I thought it was a little crash?

Charles: It wasn’t. Lewis told me today during testing. He was THERE. He said the car was totaled. You got spun into a post. You were trapped in the car, Isabelle.

Lorenzo: What do you mean, trapped?!

Isabelle: I didn’t want to worry anyone. I’m fine now.

Charles: You said you were fine. You made it sound like you got a scratch and drove home.

Lorenzo: That’s not the point.

Charles:  You lied to us.

Isabelle: I didn’t lie. I said I had a concussion and bruises. And spent the night in the hospital. Which was all true. I said I was okay. Because I am.

Lorenzo: Isabelle, why didn’t you say anything?

Isabelle: Because I knew this would happen.

Isabelle:  Exactly this.

Isabelle:  You’d all get angry or guilt-trip me or turn it into something about you.

Charles: Of course we’re angry!

Arthur:  You scared us, Isabelle.

Lorenzo:  Do you think Maman could handle hearing you almost died?

Lorenzo: We are not going to tell her.

Lorenzo:  I’m serious.

Lorenzo:  It would crush her.

Lorenzo:  Better she thinks it was nothing.

Isabelle: So let me get this straight.

Isabelle:  You’re mad at me for not telling you…

Isabelle:  And now you’re also deciding for me that Maman shouldn’t know?

Isabelle:  Because you think she can’t handle it?

Lorenzo: Exactly.

Isabelle: Okay. Noted.

***

Raymond Vermeulen prided himself on knowing everything about Max Verstappen’s career — both on and off the track.

It wasn’t arrogance. It was necessity.

You didn’t manage Max Verstappen successfully by being two steps behind. 

You stayed ahead. You anticipated. You knew.

Which was why, when Jos Verstappen of all people leaned over during a quiet moment at a post-testing dinner and casually said: "Max is serious about a girl,"

—Raymond almost dropped his fork.

He blinked, slowly, suspiciously.

Jos didn’t do casual. Jos didn’t mention Max’s girlfriends unless it was a complaint. Normally, the subject was treated like some embarrassing injury you didn’t talk about in polite company.

Raymond cleared his throat, playing it cool. "Oh? New?"

Jos grunted. "No. Been a while."

Raymond narrowed his eyes. "And you’re... okay with this?"

Jos shrugged. Shrugged.

Like Max Verstappen — his pride, his legacy, his entire life project — dating someone was just fine and normal.

Raymond was officially in uncharted waters.

"Who is she?" he asked carefully.

Jos reached for his beer, nonchalant. "Isabelle Leclerc."

Raymond froze mid-sip of his wine.

Isabelle. Leclerc.

As in Charles Leclerc’s little sister.

As in Ferrari’s golden boy’s little sister.

As in political nightmare fuel if the media ever got hold of it.

"You're telling me Max is dating Charles Leclerc’s sister," Raymond said slowly, like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

Jos grunted again. "Mmh."

"And you’re fine with this?" Raymond pressed.

Jos actually — God help him — almost smiled. "She's good for him."

Raymond sat back in his chair, stunned.

Not just because Max was apparently neck-deep in a secret, long-term relationship.

 Not just because it was Isabelle bloody Leclerc.

 But because Jos — notoriously impossible to please, allergic to softness — actually liked her.

Jos approved.

Raymond processed that for a long moment.

The earth hadn’t split open. The sky wasn’t falling.

Miracles did happen, apparently.

"Well," he said finally, recovering some professionalism. "That’s... good."

Jos nodded, unbothered. "She makes him happy."

Raymond exhaled slowly. If Jos was using words like happy, it was serious. Monumentally serious.

And suddenly, Raymond understood something deeper:

This wasn’t a passing thing.

This wasn’t a fling.

This was real.

Max had gone and fallen in love — quietly, stubbornly, like he did everything else — and somehow, without anyone noticing, built himself a life outside the machine of Formula One.

Raymond reached for his phone under the table.

Because if the media ever got a sniff of this, he was going to need a very detailed contingency plan.

And maybe a drink.

Or several.

***

The office was quiet.

Soft light filtered through gauzy curtains.

A pot of chamomile tea sat untouched on the side table.

Isabelle sat curled into the corner of the couch, sleeves of her sweater pulled over her hands, staring at the stitches in the rug instead of at Simone.

Simone waited.

She always waited.

Finally, Isabelle exhaled a shaky breath.

"It’s so stupid," she said quietly. "I shouldn’t be this upset. I didn’t even get badly hurt."

Simone didn’t flinch at the deflection.

She just tilted her head slightly.

"You’re allowed to be upset, Isabelle. Something frightening happened to you."

Isabelle bit her lip, fingers tightening in her sleeves.

"I didn’t even want to tell them," she said. "My family, I mean. I knew how it would go. And it did."

Simone’s voice stayed soft. "Tell me what happened."

Isabelle shrugged stiffly. "I mentioned it. Just… dropped it into the family group chat. Like ripping off a band-aid. Thought maybe they’d be a little worried, and then we’d move on… " she admitted softly. 

Simone waited again.

Isabelle’s mouth twisted bitterly.  "Arthur and Charles kept asking if I was distracted or speeding—like it was somehow my fault."

Simone’s brows furrowed slightly.

“And then a few days later, Charles found out that it wasn’t just a little fender bender. And suddenly they were angry with me. Because I didn’t tell them how bad it was. But I did. I told them that I was…I told them I had a concussion and bruises…And then Lorenzo," Isabelle continued, voice tightening, "he said—he said he wasn’t going to tell Maman. Because it would 'crush' her."

She laughed, a thin, broken sound.

"Apparently, I’m a bigger problem for them if I exist hurt than if I just… pretend everything’s fine."

Simone stayed silent, letting the words hang in the air between them.

Isabelle blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

"It’s always been like that since Papa died," she said eventually, quieter now. "Maman either sticks her head into the sand—pretends bad things aren’t happening—or she panics. Makes everything about her fear."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she pulled her knees tighter to her chest.

"So I learned to make myself smaller. Easier. Less trouble."  She smiled bitterly. "Invisible, sometimes. That’s the safest way to survive it."

Simone leaned forward slightly, her voice still low, but firm now.

"Isabelle, what happened to you wasn't your fault. Not the accident. Not your family's reaction."

Isabelle closed her eyes.

"It feels like it is," she whispered.

"It isn’t," Simone said. "You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to be hurt. You are allowed to need help, without carrying their feelings on your back."

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz Jr. and Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: okay Lando: hear me out

Oscar: this is already a bad start

Lewis: absolutely not

Daniel: proceed Daniel: i love bad ideas

Lando: what if Lando: instead of everyone panicking about charles finding out Lando: we just... Lando: tell him softly???

Carlos: what the fuck does "softly" mean

Lando: like, we ease him into it Lando: drop hints Lando: plant the idea Lando: subtle Lando: caring

Oscar: you're insane.

Lewis: he'll kill us all.

Daniel: ok but i kinda wanna see where he's going with this

Carlos: no Carlos: lando’s plans never end well

Lando: NO LISTEN Lando: like maybe Lando: i casually say Lando: "hey charles did you know belle’s been hanging out with max lately" Lando: and when he starts freaking out Lando: we just Lando: soothe him Lando: with like Lando: positive reinforcement.

Oscar: you think he's a puppy???

Lewis: lando. Lewis:  this is the worst plan anyone’s ever had.

Carlos: you’re going to get us murdered.

Daniel: actually i’m free next thursday if we wanna die then.

Oscar: i vote no. Oscar: hard no. Oscar: hardest no of my life.

Carlos: softly = we still die  Carlos: but maybe slower and more painful

Lando: NO NO Lando: like Lando: we sit him down Lando: give him snacks Lando: maybe a hug Lando: and then just... you know... gently mention that max is in love with his sister

Oscar: lando.  be serious.

Lando: I am serious

Lewis: this is the worst idea i've heard in a long time

Daniel: give him snacks???  what is he, a wild animal???

Oscar: you’re going to get us killed.

Lewis: softly telling charles is still telling charles.  he’s gonna go full Leclerc rage no matter what.

Daniel: AND THEN MAX IS GOING TO KILL US

Lando: ok but hear me out again Lando: what if we tell him Lando: and then IMMEDIATELY leave the country

Oscar: i'm already packing my bags

Carlos: dibs on Spain

Lewis: i'm going to pretend i don't know any of you

Daniel: same

Daniel: i’ll be in australia by the time charles processes step one.

[dameronspector]

“Happy New Year, Honey.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set during the New Year’s party where Joel protects Ellie and Dina from Seth. Aka you comfort Joel and don’t let him spend the new years alone.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of panic attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Cursing, Joel deserves to be doted on, Reader and Joel are married, Reader is in her late 30s-early 40s, Reader is kind of upset with Ellie for hurting Joel, Reader just wants her family back but is stuck as the mediator (PS: I fucking love ellie, she’s my sister. This is no hate against her. This is just my depiction of a parents-child relationship dynamic.)

AN: i saw the episode and my heart broke for joel and his sad, warm brown eyes :(

It was finally New Year’s Eve and there was a little party being held in Jackson. Maria had assigned you to food service so you were helping the kitchen team with the plating and to set the buffet. You had to leave the house a little early for that. Joel was pouting because he didn’t want to arrive alone to the party. It was difficult enough to convince him to come, and now his big brown eyes were staring at you like he was a kicked puppy. You stalled for a good 10 minutes before parting with a sweet kiss, with a promise of saving him a dance.

Slowly, the community area of the church started filling up with people. There was a quiet murmur of people chatting and laughing. The air was perfectly warm inside the main house and crisp-cold outside. There was no snowfall today, thankfully, which meant everyone could enjoy the bonfire. The food smelt good and the band was playing soothing tunes.

The area was decorated with lovely fairy lights that made it look like the stars had come down. Overall, it was a very cosy scene. You were actually enjoying yourself. You had finished serving the food into containers and were now setting up the buffet. Gradually, the number of people gathered around increased and now you were 4 hours away from ringing in the New Year.

Joel was not still nowhere to be seen but you did spot Ellie with Dina and Jesse. Maria and Tommy were welcoming the newcomers meanwhile Benji was playing with his friends.

You were thinking of going back home and bringing him with you but you knew he just needed his space. You knew how badly the separation with Ellie was affecting him. Everyone could see that. Hell, even he could see that. It got so bad, that he had resorted to seeking therapy. You were so shocked when he admitted that to you but you encouraged him because he was finally willing to open up. You just hoped the therapist-Gail-wouldn’t breach his boundaries and make him isolate from others again.

He was trying so hard. It broke your heart into a thousand pieces to look at his dejected and sad face everytime she ignored him. He asked for Ellie during breakfast, lunch and dinner without missing a beat. He kept aside some food for her everyday. He built her a new chair because her old one had a broken leg. He would find something to gift her on patrol every time and would ask you to give it to her so that she accepts it.

It was heartbreaking.

You tried to talk to Ellie about this but she shot you down quickly. That’s when you decided you wouldn’t get involved because it’s not your place. It’s something that only the two of them should be talking about. And truthfully, you’d never admit to Ellie that you didn’t think he did anything wrong because you would’ve done the exact same thing for her. Any parent who denies this is a hypocrite.

So, you gave him space. You were patient with him. And you could see the gratitude in his eyes and his actions. How he would hug you longer. How he was more open with his affections. How he freely shared his thoughts and feelings. And that was everything that you’d ever want.

He’s all you have and you were all he has. You would do anything to protect him, just as he would for you.

-

The band was playing a cheerful song and everyone was laughing and dancing to the fullest. You were busy serving everyone so you didn’t notice Joel enter the area. You were talking to the town’s beekeper Jude while making her a plate when you felt arms snake around your waist. You jumped.

“Hey, honey”, his low baritone voice murmured in your ear.

Your face broke out in a loving smile.

You excused yourself from Jude who gave you a teasing smile and asked Kat to take over. Joel shifted the two of you slightly away from the table and you turned your neck to look at him. You rested your hands on his left hand and played with his ring.

“Hey, baby. Welcome to the party”, you greeted him softly and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. You broke apart and he turned you around.

He rested his hands on your waist and rubbed it gently. His brown eyes looked like they were sparkling in the fairy lights. He ran his eyes across your face. Like he was reading you.

“You look so beautiful, darlin’”, he complimented you shyly, even though you were wearing a simple sweater that would’ve been considered as a ‘going out top’ with some jeans. He thought you looked good in anything.

You grinned brightly at him.

“Yeah? Well, Mr. Miller, you don’t look too bad yourself”, you replied cheekily and caressed his chest. You saw his cheeks turned into a tinge of pink. Even after being married for 4 years and being together for a decade, he would still get shy whenever you complimented him.

He gave you a meek smile and brought you closer to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh before raising your head to look in his eyes.

“I’ve got to help with the serving, you think you’ll be okay without me for sometime, baby?”, you asked him softly and put your hand on his stubbled, soft cheek.

You could see him deflate a little as he let out a sigh. He leaned his head against your palm and rubbed your lower back with a hand.

“Yeah, okay. But, you’re saving me a dance, remember?”, he smiled.

You smiled at him sweetly and nodded your head.

He drank in your smile before pressing a kiss to your palm and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’ll see you, wife”, he smirked before pulling away.

You just giggled and waved him off.

God, you’d do anything to see this man happy.

-

An hour to go before you all rang in the New Year. You were almost done with serving desserts and now you could finally dance with Joel. The band was playing softly and while everyone was slow dancing.

You turned away to put away the last container into the kitchen and you came out to see the music was stopped and everyone was huddled around- Ellie and Dina?

Something was wrong. Your maternal instincts kicked in and you immediately pushed your away to the middle. You stood next to Ellie and held her arm gently.

“Ellie? What’s up? What happened?”, you asked her carefully. Her face was red and her eyes were bloodshot with tears. Dina was in the same condition.

“Dina, hey. What’s wrong?”, you asked her gently and put your hands on her shoulders. She sputtered but said nothing. She looked embarrassed and she was drunk, you realised. You turned to look at Ellie again but she looked away from you.

What the hell happened?

“What- hey. What’s going on?”, you raised your voice slightly and looked around. You couldn’t see Maria or Tommy or-

“Where’s Joel?”, you asked out loud, hoping he’d hear you incase he was around. “Ellie, where’s-”

She turned around so quickly that you jumped back from her. She pointed at you.

“Tell your fucking husband to stay the fuck out of my business.”

You froze. Her tone was so harsh. Her body language was aggressive and agitated. You’ve seen her like this before but it was never directed at you. And she never spoke to you like this.

“Ellie!”, Dina’s eyes widened and she pulled Ellie back.

“Hey, relax. I’m just-”

“I don’t need your fucking help, (Name). So don’t tell me to relax and I don’t fucking know where Joel has gone. I don’t care where he is and if you’re so worried then don’t stand here and-”

“That’s enough”, you cut her off firmly and held out your hand to stop her. “I just wanna know what happened.”

Ellie’s mouth fell open and she looked away in shame.

You clenched your jaw. You took a deep breath in to calm down. You registered how everyone was still staring at the three of you.

“Do we not have work to do? Y’all want some popcorn?”, you sternly questioned the crowd.

Everyone averted their gazes before clearing the area and leaving the three of you alone.

You turned to Dina.

“Dina, where’s Joel?”, you asked her with urgency in your tone.

“I-I don’t know. He just left”, Dina stuttered. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her cheeks were red.

Joel went to two places frequently when he was not ready to face the world- either his workshop to work on his projects or he’s in the office looking over the blue prints. But now that you know something happened between him and Ellie, you really didn’t know where he could’ve gone. It was a very fragile situation.

Ellie furiously walked away from the two of you to stand outside the hall. You closed your eyes to compose yourself and to stop the tears from flowing. She was drifting further and further away from you. And not just physically.

You looked at the door tearfully before turning back to Dina. “Don’t let her do anything stupid, okay? Get home safely.”

Dina nodded at you. You patted her shoulder and ran out of the hall to check the office first. He wasn’t there. You felt your stomach hurt at the thought of him being alone and having a panic attack. You needed to get to him now.

You ran all the way from the community hall to your house. The cold, dry wind hit your face and turned it into a bright shade of pink. Your eyes were watery and your breath was uneven but still, you continued to run.

On your way, you passed people wishing a happy new year to each other and lighting fireworks. Your heart twisted painfully. This is the first time in a decade that you and Joel weren’t together for New Year’s Eve.

Your lungs were aching by the time you finally saw your house in the distance and noticed the porch lights were on. And that’s when he came into view.

Joel was sitting on the armchair with his guitar on his lap. You could hear the soft strumming of the guitar along with your loud breathing and the whistling wind.

He looked so small.

Your husband was a hulking man of 6 foot tall height with the broadest shoulders. You didn’t know it was possible for a man of his stature to look so small and dejected.

The sight of him alone on the porch, while listening to the muffled cheers of the other residents, brought tears to your eyes. He didn’t deserve this. You felt guilty for leaving him alone.

You made your way to the porch and he looked up as soon as he heard your footsteps. His eyes shone in the light and he stopped strumming. He furrowed his eyebrows when he looked at the state of you. He quickly set down his guitar and got up from the chair.

“Honey? You okay?”, he approached you and held out his hand for you to join him on the porch. Acting as if his heart wasn’t hurting right now.

Your vision blurred as eyes filled with tears and your face scrunched up before you let out a soft cry. You stepped on the porch and buried your face in his chest while tightly wrapping your arms around his back.

Joel simply encased you in his warm arms and brought you closer. “Baby? What’s wrong? You’re scarin’ me. Did someone say somethin’ to you?”, he rambled worriedly and laid his cheek on your forehead. He winced. “And you’re s’cold. Where’s your jacket? I keep tellin��� you to not go out like this”, he scolded you gruffly before wrapping his jacket around you and hugging you closer. He was fussing over you even when he was the one who needed to be comforted.

You gently pulled away and settled your hands on his bicep. “Where did you go? I’ve been looking for you all this time. I ran all the way from the community hall and I even checked the offi-”

“You ran all the way here?!”, he asked incredulously. He was clearly changing the topic to avoid your questions. He huffed out a scoff and wiped your tears gently. “Now, why’d you do that? Are you crazy-”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you spend the New Years alone”, you furrowed your eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to argue.

“What happened back there?”, you cut him off.

You observed the way he froze and averted his eyes from your intense gaze. He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. “Nothin’. I just came back home because I was bored. Thought I’d let you have fun. Didn’t wanna ruin it for ya.”

You cupped his cheek and turned his head towards you. His eyes were tearing up. He clenched his jaw tightly to keep the tears at bay.

You scrunched your brows and caressed his cheek gently.

“Joel, I went into the kitchen for a moment and came back to a scene. Everyone was looking at Ellie and Dina. Tommy and Maria weren’t there. You weren’t there. Ellie….”, you trailed off before letting out a sigh. “She seemed disturbed. So was Dina. Ellie didn’t wanna talk to me, either. What happened, Joel?”, you whispered.

You saw how he was trying his best to hold it together. He closed his eyes and let out a weary sigh. A tear slid down his cheek and you wiped it with your thumb. He held your wrist gently and leaned into your palm.

“Ellie and Dina were dancin’ together. Seth was bein’ an asshole. He said this is a family event and called them a slur. I happened to hear it and I pushed him down. Told him to get out”, he murmured. Your eyes widened.

You knew Ellie and Dina liked each other and you were so happy because they’re adorable together and they made each other happy. But you had no idea that even in an apocalyptic world, some people were still a fucking dick about who’s kissing who.

“Oh god”, you murmured in disgust towards Seth. Joel nodded. “Yeah. Pissed me off real bad. But Ellie…”, his voice cracked.

“She..she didn’t like it. Told me she doesn’t need my fucking help”, he choked out.

“Oh, Baby..”, you whispered and held his face in both of your hands. Like he’s something precious.

That did it for him and he broke down. He let out a shaky breath. Your palms were damp with his tears.

“I just…I was just trying to protect her. It hurts so much. No matter what I do…I’ve lost her. I can’t-”, he cut himself off, his breathing uneven.

You quickly removed your hands from his face and helped him sit down on his chair.

His entire body stiffened up and he pressed his hand to his chest-near his heart. He was having a panic attack. You didn’t touch him to avoid startling him and kneeled in front of him instead.

“Hey, Joel. Tell me 5 things you can see?”, you asked him quietly.

He closed his eyes before taking in a deep breath and looked around.

“The…the porch light..the snow..the door…my shoes…you”, he whispered.

“Okay, now 4 things that you can touch?”

“The chair, m-my jacket…my jeans…my watch.”

“Good, now 3 things you can smell?”

“Smoke…wet soil…your shampoo.”

“That’s good, baby. Now 2 things you can hear?”

“The wind….your voice.”

“And now tell me 1 thing that you can feel?”

“My heartbeat”, he responded quietly before taking in a deep breath and letting it out.

“Good job, baby. Do you want some water?”, you asked him gently.

He weakly shook his head no before burying his face in his hands. You got up to get away from the freezing floorboards but he mistook that for you leaving him and snapped up his head. He held your wrist.

“Don’t go, please.”

He looked like he was pained by the idea of you leaving and it broke your heart all over again. You softened and stood closer to him, taking that as a sign to touch him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I was just bringing you some water”, you whispered to him and rubbed his back soothingly.

He released your wrist and slowly leaned his head against your stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

You hugged him back and buried a hand in his beautiful curls and rubbed his back with the other.

“You did the right thing, honey. You protected her. And gave her space when she asked you to. I’m so proud of you. She’s just…she needs time to accept it, yeah? It’s not easy for her either. Plus, she’s growing up now. It’s just how the kids act like when they’re 19, we were probably the same as well”, you chuckled softly.

He let out a shuddering breath and kissed your stomach before propping his chin up on it to look at you. You stared back at his gentle eyes and brushed his curls back before caressing his forehead with your thumb.

“I’m sorry for the way she acted towards you, Joel. I know I said I’m not going to get involved but I will try to talk to her again, okay? I know you hate being away from her and you worry about her every second but you have to respect her boundaries too, Joel. Promise me?”, you asked him gently before cupping his face in your hands.

He swallowed and nodded his head.

“I understand.”

You gave him a smile. “Good. Now, I believe I saved you a dance?”

He smiled weakly. “There’s no music.”

“Who said we needed it anyways?”, you teased him and he let out a chuckle that showed his pretty dimple. You kissed his cheek.

You pulled away and held his hands in yours. He stood up and towered over you before winding an arm around your back, holding your free hand in his. You held the bicep of his arm that was around you and laid your head on his shoulder. He brought you closer and leaned his head on yours before swaying the two of you gently.

After a while, he nudged you to face him and delicately held your face in his hands before leaning in. The two of you share a sweet, loving kiss. Your lips gently massaging each other and your noses nudging against your cheeks.

You came away for air and leaned your forehead against his before circling his neck with your arms. His went around your hips and he pulled you impossibly closer.

“Happy new year, honey. I love you so much”, you whispered to him and nudged his nose with yours.

He flashed you his charming, dimpled smile. His cheeks were flushed.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Miller. I love you with everything in me.”

The two of you were so intertwined with each other that the world disappeared around you.

Both of you didn’t notice Ellie standing in the darkness, observing and listening to everything with tears in her eyes.

AN: i can’t take their separation anymore please they’re so sad.

[blondeaxolotl]

Finally dropping a ref sheet for my yuusona, say hi to Yuu/Ebi

undercut if you want to hear me yap about her a bit

Yuu, or Ebi is a giant monster shrimp (non-magic user). Where she came from or what her homeland is currently unknown. But it's safe to assume she comes from a place populated by mostly sea monsters like her.

Despite being a monster (maybe similar to Grim?), Ebi seems to have a more calming and sensible personality when compared to Grim, only reacting strongly when something seriously bad is going to happen (ex: someone almost fucking dying) or when she's over-exaggerating to just get a reaction out of someone. Surprisingly, when she arrived to NRC, she had a more irritated reaction knowing full well she was somewhere she didn't belong, and complained under her breath about "missing work and getting family worried for nothing". In other words she seemed to have known she wasn't in any true danger when she arrived, thankfully. Ebi also appears to be naturally caring for others, immediately taking in with living with Grim at Ramschackle (and eventually becoming his caretaker basically), and helping Ace and Deuce out with whatever issues they're having without hesitation (issues being either preventing them from almost being expelled or just help with simple homework). This soon enough became an on-going thing with majority of the students, and according to Ebi it's because;

"I grew up in a large family and have always taken care of my younger siblings. It's in my duty to help and take care of those who need a hand to come pick them up from the ground, even if they didn't ask for it."

It didn't help that Ebi was already older than most students there, being closer to Leona's age, she started to view and treat a lot of students as if they were her younger siblings. And like it was meant to be, this quickly made her earned the title of "Big Sis Ebi". Making it known that she was someone who the students could trust and come to for both help and comfort. This meant there were a lot of visits at Ramschackle, (especially from the ones who overblotted GULPS) but fortunately, this just made Ebi feel more at home as it reminded her of her actual siblings back at her homeland, so she doesn't mind these visits (Grim on the other hand not so much).

Also yes, just like any older sibling, this does mean Ebi started to mess and tease the ones she viewed as younger siblings a lot. It ain't a true sibling bond without at least a wee bit of sibling rivalry 👌 (Rip Ace he's the most common victim to this).

ANYWAY, okay enough yapping, when I first created Ebi she was just a silly gag I made when I first got into twst.

But when I actually started to put effort into her I at first didn't know what to do since most yuusonas I know of were shipped with other characters. But I didn't want Ebi to have anything romantic with any character, I decided what better way than to basically make her the older sister figure everyone comes to when they need help? I thought it's both funny that characters are looking for comfort from a literal giant fucking shrimp, but also twst characters genuine just seem to lack a lot of comfort because Jesus fucking Christ all of you need therapy and a hug, no matter if it's by a shrimp or not 😭.

Okay yeah, that's it for Ebi if anyone has any questions about her or her dynamics with other characters, feel free to send an ask in my inbox 🦐.

[wolfix-does-stuff]

Fanart from some of my fav comics! Hope y’all like it :>

Bugstorm from @vaporclan - Someone needs to give him a hug (besides Butterfly. Butterfly you traitor)

Lavenderstar from @ashpaw-is-alone - 👁️👁️

Twistedeyes from @fog-and-the-frost - I love her she’s so silly, so excited for this comic to come back!

Kingfur from @loudclan-clangen - I just think his design is nice :>

Egrettail from @barrenclan - Her!! Gonna miss this comic

Riptide from @the-exiled-comic - he’s not really featured in the comic so far but who cares lol. The borblo scrimply!

Fogpaw from @clangenrising - She’s gotten so big :’) love your writing!

Brackenshine from @glitterclan - tbh her and her siblings all need therapy (Rip falconshine)

Unshaded under the cut!

[puppetwoman17]

I want to read more comics and fanfics about Cap/Billy being a respected member of the hero community.

But at the SAME TIME, I want to read something where his attempts to make friends is seen as too eager or boyish and he’s ostracized, so as he grows up he understands that he needs to dial it down. He begins backing off and letting people do their own thing. He doesn’t try to hang out with the younger hero teams, but makes it clear that he’s always there if they need him, because he’s a sweetie. He talks less with JL members, not significantly, but just so he’s not talking way more than he has to.

Everyone’s noticed. They are worried.

Billy grows up, gets reunited with his sister, connects more with his Whiz Radio coworkers, gets along with the Bromfields, meets and connects with other Fawcett heroes and finally gets his own apartment(with illegal means but shush I guarantee you someone else has done much worse). He’s getting his life together day by day and he’s more sure of himself.

Heavy on Fawcett heroes btw. They clock him being CC’s kid immediately. What do you mean the JL doesn’t like him? What’s their problem with our boy😡?

Little subtleties with other heroes… Because why is Cap not talking to me anymore? Why do I have to steer the conversation?

Did I do something wrong?

Did I fuck up?

Was I too mean?

He just wants to hang out. Isn’t that what being part of a team is?

He just wants to be friends like the rest of us are.

Cue young and older heroes alike trying their damn hardest to get Cap to join them for a game night or gossip session or joint mission where there doesn’t need to be a joint mission and Billy is just confuzzled.

He’s busy, sorry! (He’s cleaning up the radio station for a birthday party)

Something came up, you know how schedules can be. (Mary wants him to see his first opera. Billy is a yes man)

A friend of mine needs some help! Really sorry, I wish I could! (Ebenezer is about to die. He wants to watch the moment the light leaves his eyes. No, Mary, he doesn’t need therapy. No Freddy, he doesn’t need a hug right—fuck it, give him a hug)

Because even without knowing, the her community watched him grow up. And, like adult figures and parents in a child’s life, they miss the way things used to be. It confuses them, especially the younger heroes.

Oh, then an identity reveal happens and everything makes so much sense and they all feel so so so bad but Billy’s like “Hey, it’s no big deal! Everyone gets busy! And I’ve got lots of other friends to confide in!”

He says this with a smile on his face but it sounds like an insult. Now the JL and younger heroes are grappling with the fact that this whole time they’ve just been parental figures who miss when their kid was clingy🥺

…

…

…

LOL, TOO BAD. Freddy’s taking him to a game tonight. He’s got front row seats and extra cotton candy coupons! Suck on that!

[exuvianen]

dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of ��exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 

[itoshiabi]

Just imagine being Isagi’s girlfriend

He’s the nicest person ever—total green flag! You already know he’s going to be the best husband and father someday. No doubt about it.

But… sometimes you used to wonder why his teammates gave you those weird looks whenever you gushed about how sweet he is. They’d just mumble stuff like, “Yeah, well… you never seen him angry. his words literally shattered my dreams.”

And now? Now you get it.

It wasn’t even a big deal. Just one of your childhood guy friends from kindergarten—you’ve been buddies forever, always teasing each other like usual. So when he suddenly popped up at the café while you were waiting for Isagi, you didn’t think much of it. He started teasing you, like always.

But Isagi? He had no idea who this guy was. And in his head, all he saw was some random dude bothering his one and only love.

So what did he do?

He grabbed your friend by the collar, stood him up, and stared him down with an expression so cold, you almost felt sorry for the guy. Then he said things—humiliating things—that made you wonder if your friend might need therapy after this.

And when he was done? He turned to you, wrapped you in a protective hug, and asked in the sweetest voice,

"Are you okay, love?"

Yeah… now you understand what his teammates meant.

You were wondering, is this the same Isagi you know? But your doubts vanished when you saw his worried face and after clearing the misunderstanding, of course he apologized in the most polite way possible and even befriended your friend!

The innocent look he had in eyes as he blushed and looked away saying "Sorry... I didn't want you to scare you... I got mad because... I thought he was bothering you...."

This is the Isagi you have always known. Yeah maybe he has a dark side too......

But honestly? You don’t mind.

He’s never been like that with you. And you know he never will.

And you love him for it.

[mrsparrasblog]

I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

[shimmering-starsun]

there’s been an insane resurgence of headcannons in the marvel fandom thanks to thunderbolts, so heres my masterlist of headcannons i’ve seen from others that I will continue to add to :)

Yelena

her guinea pig is the group pet—named Nat

insists on doing karaoke every saturday night, she and Ava eat everyone up.

Cooks for EVERYONE. makes sure they all eat enough.

laughs at her own jokes, especially the bad ones. Ava can’t help but laugh with her.

Bucky

leads group therapy seasion every tuesday.

tries* to use brainrot and slang terms, but it catches onto Alexei, so now nobody can convince him otherwise.

helps Bob with his nightmares. Sees pre-serum Steve in Bob so he feels like he needs to protect him

talks about Sam a lot, everyones tired of it.

argues with John constantly, but they always work well together on missions.

It’s a competition to see who can sneak up on and scare bucky. He’s expressionless every time and just says “wow that was so scary”

Insists on silence breaks, everyone starts speaking again after 3 minutes.

says he never cares, but makes sure there’s water and first aid for every mission.

Bob

THE little brother.

has to have some amount of light on when he sleeps. He also loves to sleep in the living room on the couch when other’s are there to listen to the soft of their voices.

May or may not be on Booktok, either way, he reads romance and mystery.

always in the corner drinking tea or a milkshake when the others are fighting.

hates cucumber, any way it’s prepared.

He always beats John in every card or board game. when it’s more than 2 people playing, it doesn’t matter if Bob comes out on top, he always gets a higher score than John.

watches cartoons to heal his inner child, doesn’t let anyone know.

>800 hours on minecraft

hard for him to accept gifts from others, even if it’s a bag of chips, he’ll say he doesn’t deserve it.

actually has a great sense of humor, can make the entire team cry from laughter just by saying something small. Takes him a couple weeks to loosen up and start joking around

Ava

likes to jumpscare people by just appearing out of thin air. Steals everyones snacks because she can.

Ultimate gaslighter, especially towards Bob. shows him those ai videos of sad cat stories and obvious rage bate and he gets pissed about it.

loves halloween and horror movies (a menace on halloween night, especially to John who she would just stand in the hallway and stare menacingly at while in a clown costume or something)

has trouble sleeping. Bucky once found her on the floor of the training room at 3am

once passed out from overworking herself, woke up and found Bob sitting next to her watching over her like a big golden retriever.

Kendrick Lamar enthusiast

Red Guardian

runs a tiktok account where he posts videos of the team (bonus, he puts filters on them and doesn’t tell)

will make the most heinous food combinations and swear they’re good.

hugs a little too tightly.

always gives a big dramatic speech before they go out, even if it’s just for coffee.

tells stories that are 90% lies, but everyone listens anyway.

John

acts as if he doesn’t care for the group, but gets worried if they don’t all text him back.

thinks he has a niche movie collection but it’s not neiche at all. horrible taste in movies (this one is very popular)

resident chef, along with Yelena.

the only one who has an actual schedule.

Gets really quiet after missions, especially if things went bad. Extremely self-critical even if it’s not apparent.