#i could have kept going. like the amount that i could have said about charles smith....WHEW

[theemporium]

[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).

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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.

Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes. 

You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous. 

It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.

“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!” 

Daniel only laughed harder. 

It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour. 

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”

“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”

The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”

“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”

“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”

“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”

“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.

Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!” 

“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”

Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”

“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response. 

“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.” 

“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.

“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.

You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.” 

Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”

“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.

“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him. 

“We got excited!” You defended. 

“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered. 

“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.

“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”

As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.

Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend. 

You were very wrong.

...

...

You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend. 

With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead. 

There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.

“There’s two!”

Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.

“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”

You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?” 

“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.” 

You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.” 

“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.” 

“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned. 

“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”

“Hey,” Logan frowned.

“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell. 

Alex snorted. 

“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face. 

“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.” 

“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes. 

“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.” 

Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. 

And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down. 

...

...

It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted. 

It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness. 

It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible. 

Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you. 

Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix. 

You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy. 

It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track. 

So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend. 

Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it. 

“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”

“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”

“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours. 

“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”

“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again. 

“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses. 

“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass. 

In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.

“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!” 

“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”

If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you. 

You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes. 

“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.

“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.

“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod. 

“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”

Logan hesitated. “Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.

Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips. 

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”

“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly. 

You blinked. “Huh?” 

“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?” 

Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?” 

“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face. 

You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?” 

“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article. 

“WHAT?!”

“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”

You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?” 

“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.

“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?” 

As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice. 

This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.

“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.” 

“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.” 

“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”

“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”

“Well, he definitely takes after you!” 

Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.

“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”

Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”

“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.” 

“Oh,” Oscar murmured. 

“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.

“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.” 

“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”

Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”

“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”

Lando only laughed harder. 

“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.

You shook your head.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”

“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”

“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.

“Still.”

“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”

Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”

“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”

You rolled your eyes.

...

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others

landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?

view all 15,866 comments

user aww cute!

user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT

user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family

yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)

oscarpiastri ew

yourusername you're too young to be on instagram

logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram

yourusername you're grounded

user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf

user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS

maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere

danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second

yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa

danielricciardo GRANDPA???

user nothing will ever beat this rumour

user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID

user TWO KIDS

user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN

landonorris 👀👀👀

.

[pierregazly]

you were my best friend first ꨄ  charles leclerc

charles leclerc x reader

warnings: fluff, charles is the sappiest drunk, monaco 2024, mentions of drinking/being drunk [1k words]

request: 🫶🏻 Charles Leclerc + prompt 8!! Thank youuuu 🤍 ["you were my bestfriend, before you were anything else, love."]

The Monaco sun shined down on him, his head was tilted back, embracing the warmth that radiated against his skin. Soft sighs of triumph leaving his lips as beads of sweat began to gather against his forehead.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his every move. He was exquisite in every way, and it was like he just knew it. The love that emitted from your heart for the Monegasque man was never-ending, all-consuming, and exactly the type of love you had always dreamt of, had always daydreamed about when you thought of the person that would once be that person for you.

Your eyes still shined bright with unshed tears, the sounds of the Monegasque anthem being sung from around you prompting one small bead of liquid to drip down your face. The pride racing through your body was indescribable. You could practically feel Charles’ happiness, his sheer relief, coursing through your own body.

Arthur’s arm was tossed over your shoulder, pulling your body against his side as he screeched the lyrics of the anthem into the open air, his own cheeks riddled with tears of pride for his big brother. Really, everyone around you had red cheeks, and a copious amount of shed tears.

This was the moment.

The moment everyone in Monaco had been yearning for since he qualified on pole, since they realized that this may finally be his chance. His family, his friends, his country-folk, his Monarchy, it was the moment every single person had been rooting for him for, for years.

It felt like forever while you waited for him to make his way down from the podium, being stopped by every person he passed kept him occupied, a toothy-smile so prominent on his features as his arms wrapped around almost every person who put their arm out to stop him in his path.

Once your eyes finally made contact with his, he rushed over, throwing his arms around your body and pulling you tight against him. You couldn’t decipher the words he was yelling into your ear, but the tone, the happiness, it was so obvious. 

“You did it, you did it!” He eagerly nodded his head down at you, pressing his lips messily against yours, the smile as he did so prompting the corners of your lips to tug up alongside his.

Charles pulled back to look down at you, his glassy eyes conveying words you knew he couldn’t say right now.

“Thank you for being here, mon coeur. I’m so… just thank you,” he said.

You smiled up at him, your words caught in your throat as you tried to keep the looming tears at bay. 

“I’ll always be here, Cha,” you said, a soft smile gracing your face as you continued to look up at him, feeling like the two of you were stuck in your own little world.

It didn’t take long for the festivities to begin. People graced the streets, singing songs of celebration, the clubs began opening their doors, the champagne had already been popped.

The gala dinner passed by quickly, the starstruck feeling of being so close to the Prince and Princess of Monaco was diminished by the drinks that continuously felt like they were being magically refilled in your hand. Charles’ arm hadn’t left your lower back, his body having begun to mould itself to you the longer the night progressed. 

“Are you still okay to go to the club, mon coeur?”

Quirking an eyebrow up at him in confusion, you nodded your head with a slight laugh.

“Cha… tonight’s about you. I will go anywhere you want me to, my love. Just take my hand and drag me along,” you said.

A grin replaced the soft look on his face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he pulled your body tight against his again.

The music in the club was thunderous. There was no other way to describe the energy of the environment as anything other than triumphant. Everyone felt like this was a triumph for them, watching the person who had felt for years that Monaco could never love him back… to finally feel the love that he had always given so freely. 

Neither of you had realized how much you had drank until you were holding each other up, the Monaco flag held over your heads as someone; still unsure as to who, dragged the two of you along and out to an Uber. 

Charles giggled in your ear every time his feet flew out from underneath him, almost dragging the two of you down with every third step he took.

“Can’t believe you were really here to see me do it, baby,” he whispered in your ear, once the two of you were settled in the Uber and back on the road.

“M’good luck charm, mon coeur,” he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, prompting a shiver to shoot through your body.

“Oh Cha, wouldn’t have missed it for the world. You’re my best friend, my love,” you responded, a soft smile on your heated cheeks.

“You were my best friend, before you were anything else, mon coeur. Gonna talk about how I couldn’t have won Monaco without you during my wedding speech, mon coeur. Make everyone jealous, cause you’re so great and you’re all mine,” he rambled on, slurring his way through his multiple declarations of love for you.

Drunk or sober, the feelings that swam through your body had you nuzzling closer to the Monegasque as your apartment building came into view. You had loved him for years, had been the backbone of so many unfortunate weekend endings; had been there for every high and low in his Formula 1 career.

Every unhappy Sunday had led to this moment, Charles whispering declarations of love into your shoulder, as the banners and chants continued amongst the country. The raw, unfiltered love for the man beside you prompting drunken tears to fill your eyes.

He was Monaco’s hero, but he was your best friend first.

im so sorry it's taking me so long to get these out lol... i havent been in the biggest writing mood lately, but i finished a book tonight in two hours and decided i needed to finish this one. this one NEEDED to get written. love you all 💗

[nathaslosthershit]

Stupidly Charming (CL16) [AoM Part 2]

Part 1: Audacity of Man Summary: Charles was never anything but a compassionate and wonderfully loving boyfriend. You always used to brag about how attentive he was... I guess this is karma?

You had tried to distract yourself, not get angry or upset over the fact that Charles had most likely forgotten your anniversary.

It was still early in the day, he could surprise you, or make up for the fact he forgot.

But hours went by of radio silence from the Ferrari driver. You couldn’t really blame him, even if he remembered your anniversary, you knew he wouldn’t be able to drop everything at work to text or call you.

Still you had hoped for something. 

“Fuck him! What an idiotic asshole, especially after you made him breakfast.” Your friend said as you caught her up on the situation. “Get upset! Get angry! If the second he gets home he isn’t on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, be the biggest bitch to him you have ever been.”

“That seems extreme…”

“Fuck extreme, fuck him! Get angry, fight, and then have the best makeup sex of your life.”

That you could do.

“Honey! Oh how I missed you” Charles said as he opened the door and saw you on the couch, pretending to read a book you had given up on actually paying attention to a while ago. You were still too upset.

You didn’t answer him. You even scoffed as he didn’t seem to recognize your silent treatment, just planting a kiss on your cheek and going to change.

What an asshole.

“Did you think about what you wanted for dinner?” He asked as he returned.

Again, silence.

“I was hoping to try out that new place that opened up down the street, heard it has amazing desserts.” 

Still nothing. 

“Baby? Did you hear me?”

…

“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you. A look of realization appeared on his face as he saw your frown. Finally, he was remembering. 

“Oh honey, I am sorry I had to leave today when I knew you wanted to hang out. I wanted to as well, you know I did. Hours in the simulator and all I could think about was coming home to my beautiful girlfriend, the person I am most excited to spend the rest of my life with.” Nevermind, he still didn't remember. But dammit as he hugged your waist and pulled your face towards him to plant kisses everywhere, you couldn’t fight off the laugh that left your mouth. He was stupid but he was charming. Stupidly charming. 

“There she is,” he said looking at the smile now on your face, much to your dismay. “How about I order from that new place, I’ll get all the things on the menu I know we’ll like so we can try them all.”

“Charles, that's an expensive amount of food for no reason.”

“No it isn’t, not when it is for you. You better get used to it, you are being spoiled for the rest of your life.” he walked away to order and you tried hard to remember why you were mad in the first place.

Right, your anniversary. But was it even fair to blame him? He was busy with work and while you wished he would prioritize you a little more, he always made sure to make up for it, to make you feel as loved as possible. 

You were halfway to forgiving him when he came back into the living room, an apologetic look across his face. “I have to jump on a call, could you go pick up the food, my love?” Nevermind, even when making up for being busy because of work, he was too busy because of work to make up for it. 

“Fine.” Was all you said as you got up, the frown back on your face as you grabbed your stuff and left, ignoring his calls and apologies behind you. 

If that hadn’t put you in a bad mood, then the whole ordeal around picking up the food did.

“I am so sorry, ma’am. It will only be a little longer, we weren’t expecting this much business so fast!” The lady behind the hostess stand said.

It wasn’t her fault of course, but it didn’t help your mood. Still you tried to keep it together as you waited 45 minutes to pick up food that should have been ready the moment you got there.

You even kept it together as you realized you had forgotten your keys to the apartment inside, so you had to call Charles to let you in. But after a few insistent knocks on the door, and a few missed calls, you finally broke down. Maybe it was dramatic, leaning on the door as you sat on the ground, crying, but fuck that. You were upset, and upset you were going to remain. Still, it took a few minutes for Charles to come to the door.

“Ah, I am so sorry love I was on the phone and didn't see your-” He was rambling excuses the second he opened the door but stopped when he saw you on the ground, a mess of tears and snot. “Honey, what is wrong? Oh my love I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out here so long, and I didn’t know that the restaurant would be such a mess.” He kneeled in front of you as he wiped away your tears.

“It's not that-or not just that. It's everything Charles, this wasn’t how today was supposed to go-”

“I know, my love, I’m sorry I was-”

“No, you don’t understand. Charles, it's our anniversary, and I spent so long thinking of things we could do today to make it special, but nothing happened and it just got worse and worse till I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just- you didn’t even remember and everytime I tried to tell myself it was okay to be upset or angry, you would be so sweet that I couldn’t justify it-” You couldn’t even finish as sobs racked your body. 

Though, you paused when you heard Charles let out a low laugh. You looked up at him, but he wasn’t smiling or laughing at you, tears streaming down his face confirming as much. It was more of a pitiful laugh. 

“I knew this was a stupid plan. There were too many ways it could backfire.”

Before you could question what he meant, he picked up the food in one hand and reached for you with the other. You hesitated.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. Even though you were upset, you took his hand and stood up. Of course you trusted him. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the state of your apartment. Candles lit and spread around, balloons and streamers nicely framing your table that had been set up with a white table cloth, your nicest plates and glasses atop it, and a beautiful, large bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to make tonight special. I had planned on making the entire day special, but when I had to leave I came up with a plan to make up for me being gone.” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, he looked… embarrassed? “It was stupid, to pretend I forgot about our anniversary, I wasn’t going to but when I realized I hadn’t said anything, too caught up in the fact I was being taken away from you, I thought I would pretend so I could surprise you. I didn’t have a call, I just needed time to get this ready but after you left upset and then had to deal with all the problems at the restaurant, I began to panic, so much so that I didn’t hear your knocks and didn’t see you had called.” 

You started crying again, alarming Charles. “I know it was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it, I didn’t think it through I’m-” you kissed him, hard.

He was an idiot, such a fucking idiot, but he was yours, and for all of his bad moments, you knew he loved you so much. 

You two finally pulled away, that's when you realized he was shaking, a lot. 

“Charlie?”

“I- I had a whole speech. I worked on it for months. In the shower, in the car, during free practice last weekend it's all I could think of actually, that's why I got yelled at by my engineer.” he laughed, turning red at the memory. “I wanted to talk about how much I love you, how much I don’t deserve you, that I know it's so hard to have my job continually come in the way, but you will always be first, my love, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And I want to spend the rest of my life working to deserve you and your love. I want to spend forever making you feel just as happy as you make me.” Had tears not been blocking your vision, you'd have seen him reach for the box in his pocket.

But it wasn’t until he got down on one knee that you realized what he was doing. And before he could ask the question, you tackled him to the ground. 

The soft carpet luckily kept Charles’ head from hitting the ground hard. You didn’t care, he didn’t care, too busy giggling in between kisses as you both rolled on the ground. Once you two had calmed down and sat up, he slipped the ring onto your finger. “The ring is beautiful, Charlie, but this isn’t how I expected getting proposed to.” you teased as the two of you wiped tears away and tried to fix your messy hair from rolling around.

“It wasn’t how I thought I would propose, but if it ends in getting to spend the rest of my life with you, then I don’t care too much.”

So stupidly charming.

[targaryenluvs]

if you’re still taking requests, what about a dark fic for coryo who takes advantage of a reader with one sided love for him, expecting her to be there for him and love him no matter what. so when he comes back to the capitol after all the district 12 drama expecting her to be his one consistency in life, he can’t take it when he sees she’s moved on

LATE TO THE PARTY!

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, you managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

warnings: dark!corio, possessiveness, unrequited love (both sides at different times), pining, stalkingish, home wrecker corio, nc kiss, paparazzi, power dynamics/abuse of power for selfish reasons and intimidation

a/n: let’s let corio chase our ass for once 🙄🙄 shorter than i expected but i just wrote it all so here you go!!!

his hair was different.

you didn’t mind it but it’d been a while since you’d seen coriolanus, in all his glory, family name restored, fortune acquired and highway to power paved out. old you, in-love-with-coriolanus you would’ve fainted.

but you had moved on from him.

you had charles now and you could not have asked for anyone better. he was always there for you, actually payed attention to you and was literally everything a girl dreamed for. and you are content. but at times you felt as if it was just that. content. he didn’t challenge you, and your thoughts. he didn’t ignite passion and fire within you, every time he looked at you it was, meh. the sex was vanilla and cute but you always were left frustrated. you were being treated as if you were fragile whilst you wanted roughness.

coriolanus could tell. ever since he came back and saw you with him, you never looked your best as you usually did. whether it was snappiness at interns or fiddling with your nails, something was up. and he took it as a sign, you needed saving. so he did exactly that.

charles had been away on business in district one for a month now. as if him being present and not doing the most when you were together wasn’t enough, now you had nothing. no one. and god were you pent up and frustrated. half of your interns were always stumbling over each other and the rest were too confident in themselves. you needed a vacation. even if for a night only. that came in the form of a party invitation.

if you’d known who’s party invitation then you would have been sure to decline.

the dress you wore wasn’t yours. your maid had delivered it to you whilst you were in your study working. she said it was left on the doorstep, no claim of responsibility but a letter.

I hope you choose to wear it, the dress is almost as gorgeous as you are, Y/n.

- C.S

and for the life of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of who it came from. but it truly was breathtaking there was no doubt about it. off the shoulders and red, it complimented you well.

you took note of the amount of reporters which was odd. but you were here to have a good time, best to not focus on them and ruin your day. you were so ready to stuff your face after barely having time for it through the day.

the party was surprisingly tame, there seemed to be a lot of whispering and stares pointed your way but you tried not to let it affect you. perhaps they were surprised by you attending alone? you and charles had decided not to rush your relationship so you’d kept it secret to the larger part of the captiol. only your family and friends knew. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of them knowing something you didn’t.

“everyone please gather for coriolanus outside.” you may have given yourself whiplash at the announcement. this was coriolanus’s party? you never expected him to be the type to hold one in all honestly, let alone dish out speeches. but there he stood tall and towering over. his eyes zeroed in on you the second you joined the moving crowd, it was unnerving to say the least.

the faces in the crowd were largely people you didn’t know personally, first names and last rung through your head as you smiled at some and walked past, trying to make your way to the front. but the crowd seemed to huddle, not letting you through for some reason. a hand on your wrist dragged you away, which had you pulling to have it let go of you. the swarms of heads and bodies obscured your vision and the person was unseen by you.

it wasn’t long before you were being pushed up steps and standing to the side of coriolanus. why the hell did they place you up here?

“the lovely y/n l/n-“ coriolanus stretched his open palm, inviting you to take it. the fuck is going on? your eyes were looking into his for an answer and his were looking at you, secretive. “has been the object of my desire, and after chasing her down, she’s agreed to marry me.” flashes went off every which way as you stood still. there’s no way i heard that right. right?

but him pressing his lips to yours and a hand to your back shook you out of your daydream as you pushed him away. not that anyone noticed. “what are you doing?” you scolded him, your back to the crowd as he smiled, his hand stroking your cheek before leaning down and whispering, “taking what’s mine.”

you couldn’t sleep that night, or in the morning. it was your day off from work yet no one was letting you rest. letters, videos, flowers and more sent to your apartment, all congratulating yourself and your fiancée coriolanus. bleh.

you didn’t even know how you were going to tell charles all that happened. would he believe you? would he hate you? how are you supposed to be with him whilst coriolanus announced your marriage. not engagement, marriage. as in this is happening, and we’re already engaged. you’d be breaking of a marriage that hadn’t been planned nor known, by you at least.

your answer came in the form of charles’s letter, wish you and coriolanus well.

My Dear Sweetheart,

I’d hoped to hear of your time away from me in a good way. That you’d made progress with the interns or been promoted.

But it seems in my time away I’ve left you alone, too alone, for you’ve found comfort in the arms of your past. I wish no ill towards you, nor your soon to be husband Coriolanus. The two of you are a fine match, made for eachother.

I only wish you had told me before I left, for I was planning on surprising you with a ring of my own. I guess it’ll have to wait for another. I know it is selfish of me to say so, but I cannot deny the feelings I still harbour for you.

You’re as kind as a mother, as gorgeous as ever, you remind me of the night stars, I know you will shine bright in the capitol. Your smile brings me to remember all the things I love about you. Your soft skin reminds of silk,and your gentle eyes bring me to sleep, I do hope Coriolanus appreciates you as much as I do. I am always here for you yet I will have to settle for the memories and another woman.

I love you my dear, and I wish you the best.

Yours Only,

Charles

it felt as if your heart had been ripped out, you’d lost the love of your life because of coriolanus’s selfishness. and you couldn’t ever escape from him now.

your love for him was for everyone to see, yet he dismissed it when he had it. but his love for you was a secret, kept close to his heart. he only noticed you once you’d moved on from him, and to coriolanus? you couldn’t move on. too bad you didn’t see it till now.

you were late to the party.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

view all 76 comments

halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

< prev ch [6] | next ch [8] >

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@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

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[cutielando]

holidays | c.s.

synopsis: in which you can finally relax together

my masterlist

After an agonizing first half of the season, the summer break had officially started, meaning you and Carlos finally had time to relax.

You loved accompanying Carlos to his races, you marveled in seeing him do what he loved. But, in all fairness, it was really tiring.

Constantly changing time zones, not having time to get home before you would have to fly all the way to the other side of the world, constantly being on the move and living out of your suitcases. It tired you out, even though you loved it.

Now, with the summer break officially here, you got to spend one whole month relaxing with your boyfriend in the beautiful Spain, getting some much needed rest before the season would pick up again.

After much consideration, you both decided that going home to Spain for the break was the best solution. You were home, you could have your fun, go to the beach seeing as it was very close to your house, it was the perfect destination.

"Mi amor, are you ready to go?" Carlos asked as he packed the last of your beach bag, ready for an entire day of soaking up the sun and relaxing with you.

"Yes, I'm coming!"

You scrambled to get your phone and your hat before bouncing downstairs where Carlos was waiting for you.

When he laid his eyes on you, his brain started malfunctioning. You were gorgeous in your brand new red bikini, one you had purchased specifically for the break.

"You look amazing, mi amor" he said once he finally regained his composure, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer.

"Thank you, love" you pecked his nose quickly before pulling away from the embrace.

The two of you made the quick drive to the beach, deciding to set up in a more secluded part of the beach, where hopefully you could sit and sunbathe in silence for a little while.

Carlos immediately jumped into the water as soon as he finished setting up your umbrella, just like a dog would, which made you laugh.

You started applying some sunscreen on your body to make sure you wouldn't get a sunburn. When Carlos finally emerged from the water half an hour later, you frowned when you saw his skin already beginning to turn red under the sun.

"Amor, come here so I can put some protection on you" you called out, shivering when the cold droplets of water from Carlos' hair hit your skin.

Seeing your shiver, he starts ruffling his hair so more water could get on your hot skin, which made you squeal.

"I will hit you if you do that one more time" you said, trying to act stern but the smile threatening to appear on your lips was saying something else.

"We both know you would feel bad" he said, finally taking a seat in front of you in the sand with his back facing you.

"Don't tempt me, your trainer and Fred will have my head if they see bruises on you" you joked while starting to apply a generous amount of sunscreen on his red skin.

"Thank God for Ferrari" Carlos turned his head and winked at you, making you roll your eyes but smile.

Being there with Carlos was everything you could have asked for. Everyone knew how tough the season had gone up to the summer break, how much both Carlos and Charles had been struggling with the car and getting it to perform at its best. The car, plus the countless strategy fails that the Ferrari engineering team kept making, the losses started pilling up and they were starting to take a toll on your boyfriend.

You knew how talented, driven and passionate he was about his job. How much he loved racing and how close he came to winning a race, only for it to be completely ruined by his team. He had started doubting himself, something you never wanted him to start doing.

That was primarily the reason why you suggested you go on holiday alone, just the two of you, for the first 2 weeks of the break. No phones, no internet, nobody around to put further stress on Carlos or you. Completely detaching yourselves from your hectic lives, even if it was just temporary.

"What are you thinking about?" Carlos' voice snapped you out of your thoughts, not having realized you had zoned out for a couple of minutes.

"Nothing important, just stuff" you shrugged it off, not wanting to bring up the subject while the atmosphere was so serene.

"I know you're lying. Tell me, what's got you so deep in thought?" he scooted closer to you and brought his hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin gingerly.

Looking into his deep brown eyes, you knew you never had to be ashamed to tell him what was on your mind. He would always listen to you, no matted what it was.

"I'm just thinking about you" he nodded, signaling for you to continue. "It's just, this season has been so hard for you and I'm just worried that nothing is going to change after the break and you'll be struggling and stressing yourself out and exhausting yourself" you admitted.

Carlos knew you had been worried about him, hell, he was worried about himself. He had expected much more from his team, but after continuously being let down, he didn't know what to think or do anymore. He didn't know where to put his trust.

"Amor, look at me" he took your face in his hands, holding it gently. "You don't have to worry about me. We both know that there is no consistency in this sport, we will have bad times and we will have good times. We've hit a rough patch, and yes, I have been stressing myself. But that is simply because I know we can do better and I'm trying to make sure we give it our best to be on top after the break" he explained.

"But you're wearing yourself out. This isn't healthy for you" you said, worry creasing your face.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, making you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling f=of his soft lips against your skin.

"Please, stop worrying. I'm going to be fine, we just have to get through this together" you looked at him and eventually nodded.

Even though you were still worried deep within, you knew that you had to trust Carlos. Until anything further, you were going to enjoy the free time and soak up the sun with your boyfriend, away from all stress and just basking in your love for one another.

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[flemingsfreckles]

Pretend We’re Good

Niamh Charles x Reader

Synopsis: based off this request!

Warnings: toxic behavior from both Niamh and Reader, suggestive at the end, fighting, angsty

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written for someone other than Jessie, but I follow Niamh as a player so idk thought I’d give it a go.

Also shout out to whoever this anon was, this song is a banger and has found its way onto my driving to work playlist which I am extremely picky about, so thanks for the indirect song suggestion! 🫶

Seeing the match announcement was one thing, actually showing up and playing it was another.

Playing England was good preparation for the Olympics, they were a quality team, you knew that, but that meant you’d have to see Niamh. That meant you’d have to mark Niamh on the pitch. It meant you’d have to give her a silly handshake before the game and wish her good luck.

You and Niamh had a complicated history. You played at Liverpool together for a season before she left for Chelsea. You had always had a flirty friendship as teenagers but it never amounted to anything.

Then when she left for Chelsea, it broke your heart. Which made you realize how strong your feelings were for the girl, bawling when she said goodbye and then again at home in bed. For hours at a time you would remain motionless on your mattress, wishing she’d come back. You had been a mess for a couple weeks not knowing how to handle losing your best friend and the girl you had seemingly fallen in love with. The two of you kept in touch but it wasn’t comparable to seeing her everyday, to being her travel roommate, to being her bus buddy.

Then you got a call a season later. A call offering you a spot at Chelsea, you barely thought about it, the club's reputation, plus being back with Niamh, you easily said yes, signing your name on the line to become a blue.

Niamh was your first call, she was ecstatic about you joining the club. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your friendship and with the friendship came the oblivious flirting.

“You two are insufferable. Will you just admit you want to makeout.” Erin had teased the two of you. Her teasing, while not appreciating in the moment, had forced you and Niamh to actually sit down and talk about your feelings. You both admitted to wanting more than just a friendship and you went on your first official date after.

The next two years with Niamh were pure bliss. You played well together, you’d spend your holidays together, you met her family and she met yours.

Everything was good, until you became unhappy at Chelsea. You were progressively losing playing time to new signings, only seeing the pitch as a sub, it was impacting you heavily mentally and hurting your playing time internationally as well.

So when you got the offer to move to the NWSL, you took it. You took it and you didn’t tell Niamh until the day you confirmed the transfer.

You had broken the news at dinner in your apartment and an argument had quickly unfollowed.

“I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!” Niamh stood from the table grabbing her plate, not offering to clear yours like she typically would.

“I’m not happy here Niamh!” Niamh would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t know you were unhappy. She’d heard you rant and complain about your playing time, your struggles in training, and she had been supportive thought it all. She just never imagined you’d go as far as to leave her, to leave her and leave the country, the continent behind.

“What? I don’t make you happy?” She screamed across the room at you.

“You do! You’re the best thing I have here!” It was all you could yell back.

The defender grew quiet, looking at you with hurt eyes. “But I’m not enough, am I?” She asked quietly.

“Niamh.” You wanted to scream at her that this had nothing to do with her, she was the only reason you had stayed at this team so long. You had been given other offers but you thought maybe, somehow you’d end up with more playing time again and you’d go back to being happy where you were but that day never came.

“No, you should go, enjoy New York. Go where someone or something is enough for you.” She slammed the door behind her leaving you alone in your apartment.

The next day, your final day at Chelsea, you showed up, puffy eyed from crying instead of sleeping all night. It was quickly picked up on by the other girls, especially when Niamh didn’t come in with you, and she didn’t show up to training.

You gathered everyone in the conference room before film review. You stood up, explaining that while you loved the friendships and connections you’ve made here, to better yourself as a player it was time to move on. As you spoke you noticed Niamh slip in through the door, she looked just as rough if not worse than you did. Red cheeks, bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, she wasn’t dressed for training. You finished your speech before quickly saying goodbye to everyone all the girls lining up to hug you and wish you well, all the girls except Niamh who remained seated in the back of the room.

You left the facility shortly after, taking all your belongings with you before hurrying home. You were set to leave early the next morning, your belongings to be packed up by hired movers, anything you shared to be left with Niamh. You packed up just the essentials, enough to get you through the first week of your move before you could get settled.

You sent Niamh a text, asking if she wanted to come over for a bit, thinking you could talk it out, but you got no response. The next morning you hopped on a plane, having no idea if you were even still in a relationship with the girl.

It took a few weeks until you heard from her. A drunken phone call after they had won the league. A phone call that part of you wishes never came. You could tell from her first words that she must’ve been hammered, standing outside a loud nightclub or bar. Her voice brought back all of the feelings you had managed to push down for the past few weeks. Her proclamation of love over the phone, begging and pleading with you to forgive her for her stupid behavior. She begged to have you back in her bed, saying she missed the intimacy with you, the connection. She begged for a chance at long distance, to still be the one you wanted.

You never called her back. You weren’t even sure if she remembered calling.

And now here you were, standing less than an arms length away from her as you both stood waiting to enter the pitch. When you had stopped next to her, she had looked at you, when you made eye contact she gave you a small “hello” with a look of guilt across her face.

The game was easier, it was easy to forget she was there. She just looked like any other England player. You were able to push her from your mind, putting you more at ease than you had expected to be being this close to the woman after all that had happened.

It was after the game where you found yourself in uncomfortable waters with her. You had shaken her hand last, avoiding all eye contact. When Niamh tried to speak to you, you quickly dropped her hand and then made a b-line for the locker room.

“Please wait.” Her voice pleading with you as you heard her follow you down the tunnel.

“Niamh, no.” You don’t even turn back to look at her. You couldn’t, if you looked at her your body might convince you to hear her out.

“I don’t need you back, I just want closure, you deserve closure, I didn’t give you that.”

“Do you want closure or do you just want to feel less guilty for what you did to me?” You spit back at her, turning around you watch as her already guilty looking face twists into one of anger.

“You left the country with one days notice! Don’t blame this all on me!” She shouts back at you.

You sigh, you couldn’t believe this was happening. You and Niamh, standing less than three feet from each other, face to face for the first time since she left your apartment. You couldn’t determine your feeling, half of you wanted to grab her, kiss her hard and make up for all the time you two had missed out on. The other half of you was ready to shove her out of the way, leave here and hope you’d never have to play the Lionesses again. “And you walked out! You didn’t even try Niamh!”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to start! It was such late notice. I didn’t know what to do, I loved you, I still love you.” She’s making eye contact so intense you can’t look away. This is exactly what you feared. Unable to hold back from the girl you start rambling.

“I still love you too Niamh, you think I don’t? You’re the only reason I stayed Niamh, because I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t leave you, until playing for Chelsea became so unbearable, I had to leave to save myself, I was ready to quit.” You feel the tears on your face, suddenly very aware that you were crying.

You had only expressed how miserable you were to Niamh on the day you told her your contract was signed. She didn’t know you were on the verge of quitting, giving up on your love for the game.

You notice some of your teammates starting to filter into the tunnel. You and Niamh both stop talking as they pass by. Catarina slows down as she walks by, you try and duck your face to hide the tears. She looks between you and Niamh, giving you both a sympathetic smile before she moves on.

“Quit?” Niamh's face matches the look of your empathetic teammates in the tunnel.

You nod, avoiding making eye contact with Niamh, not wanting her to see right through you. She could always read you, she knew, you expressed your emotions too well through your eyes.

“I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?” Niamh grabs your hand, you start to pull it away but the feeling of her hand in yours again makes your stomach flutter so you leave it. “I don’t know what I can do. But,” you feel her squeeze your hand. “I want you back, or I want you again, I’m not sure I lost you, ever I don’t know what we were doing for those few months. Please?”

“We weren’t together during those months.” Sure you never confirmed a break up but you had decided not hearing from her meant you were no longer a couple. But you also hadn’t started seeing other people, the feelings of Niamh still too fresh.

“No, I know, it’s just we never broke up.”

“Niamh, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t make me beg. Even if it’s just a night? Just dinner or drinks, I’ll pay, or we can go to my place and I’ll let you yell at me, or tell me everything I did wrong, or we can just sit, whatever, just one night, me and you can we pretend we’re good? Pretend we’re something again? Go back to how it was?”

“Niamh.” You breathed out. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew both of your behaviors were toxic, you leaving with little notice and her storming out and drunkenly calling you begging for you back. You two shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. You loved her still.

You wanted to have a night with her, a date, an afternoon, something! In reality you wanted her for the rest of your life. You missed her hugs, you missed the way she kissed you, you missed the way you’d sing in the car together despite both having less than excellent voices. You missed falling asleep next to her. You missed her body on yours. You missed getting up early to make her coffee or tea and bringing it to her in bed, the way she’d sit up to sip it with crazy bed head. You missed everything about her.

You missed her and this was your chance to have her again. Even if it was just to pretend, for a night.

Niamh must’ve been able to tell you were pondering. She didn’t plea with you anymore, she didn’t beg again. She just waited patiently, studying your face, the face she’s been longing for.

“Okay. One night, like we used to be.” You finally give in.

“Really?” Niamh’s face lights up at your answer. A smile across her lips. “Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel? Can we have dinner? Or just drinks? Or I don’t know.”

“That sounds good.” Drinks and dinner would be harmless, a good way for the two of you to talk, in public, keep it civil.

When Niamh picked you up she was dressed up. You thankfully had dressed up as well. Subconsciously when you packed, you threw in a nice matching lace set, which you had put on underneath a simple shirt and nice pants. She had gotten out of the car to open the passenger side door, something she did when you were together.

“Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this.” She said one back in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.” You clasped your hands in your lap, when you were together you’d have your hand on her thigh or her hand in yours, today you kept them to yourself.

“I was thinking dinner?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I haven't eaten yet.”

Niamh nods before starting to drive to dinner. She pulls into an Italian restaurant, one the two of you had frequented while together.

When you sat down Niamh ordered a glass of wine, before looking at you. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah that'd be great.” you order the same wine as Niamh. When the glasses come Niamh holds hers up, tapping it to yours before you both take a sip and fall into silence.

You break the silence first.

You apologize for leaving on such short notice. You apologize for not telling her that you were considering leaving. You apologize for not expressing how you were feeling, truly upset at Chelsea. You apologize for never calling her, for never reaching out. You apologize for everything.

Niamh just sits, listening to you, really listening. She doesn’t interrupt, she just sits, making eye contact when you look at her. You find yourself looking away most of the time, feeling embarrassed as you list all the poor behavior, all the places you went wrong.

When you’re done, you sit back looking across the table at Niamh. Thankfully your food had arrived just as you finished apologizing and you were able to occupy the silence by eating. As you start to eat, Niamh begins to speak. She hasn’t started to eat and she’s hardly looked at the pasta in front of her.

“Niamh.” You interrupt, it was rude but you wanted to ensure she knew she could eat. “Please eat, we can talk after, don’t let it get cold.”

She nods, picking up her fork and swirling it into her meal. You eat for the most part in silence. Niamh asks a few questions about your new place in New York, your new team. When you tell her it’s going well, you’re playing more, you are often in the starting IX she replies with “I know.” When you told her you scored in your first game with them, she replies the same “I know.”

You look at her. “You keep up with me?”

“Of course I do.” She says. “I watch your games, I keep up with you, you have me rooting for you all the way across the pond. I, uh, I have your jersey.”

“Really?” You definitely didn’t expect her to own a jersey of yours. You had a couple of her Chelsea jerseys and you knew she had a couple of your old Chelsea ones as well, you just didn’t expect her to buy a new one, for your new team after what happened.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

She then begins an apology list of her own. She apologizes first for the drunken call. She had remembered doing it. She apologized for storming out on you, she apologized for ignoring you when you said your goodbyes to the team. She apologized for not reaching out, something you were both guilty of.

“I do still love you.” She ends her apology with those words.

“I still love you Niamh.” You can’t help it, you loved this woman, everything about her.

You don’t get to follow up on what that meant for either of you as the waiter comes with the bill, Niamh grabbing it before you can, when you let out a pouting huff, she just gives you a glance.

“Please it’s the least I can do, plus I asked you to this.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “But I get the next one.”

“The next one?” Niamh’s face breaks into a small smile, just creeping on her lips. “As in, another time?”

“If that’s something you want to do?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Does that mean, we’re…” she points a finger between the two of you.

You knew it was maybe too soon to let her back in, too soon for both of you but you really didn’t care. Sitting here being able to see her, hear her, admire her, made you miss every inch of her. You wanted her back, you needed her back. Long distance would be something to figure out, but not right now, right now you had her in front of you, within reach.

You’re not sure what to call yourselves yet, so you nod. “If that’s something you want too.”

“Yeah.” The waiter comes back to the table to give Niamh her card back. You both thank him before leaving the restaurant and heading to her car. Niamh goes to open your car door, just just barely cracks it when you push it closed.

“Hey!” She turns back to scold you, coming face to face with each other.

“Hi.” You breath out practically whispering, this was the closest you two had been in a non-match situation in months. Your faces inches from each other. You look at her eyes, temporarily getting lost in their beautiful blue color. Your trance is broke by her blinking a few times. Your eyes fall to her lips and then back to her eyes. Niamh gets the hint and brings her hands up around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer.

“Is this okay?” She asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You find yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers, they feel better than you remember, you can feel your love for her flooding through your body, your hairs standing on edge, its electric and soft and it feels safe. You were kissing Niamh. Your Niamh. The love of your life, the girl you had waited for, the girl who was with you through your teenage years and into young adulthood. This was your girl, she was yours, you promised to never let her go again.

You kiss for a second, your front gently pressed to hers as her back is leaned up against the car. It’s a passionate kiss, both of you pouring months of built up feelings into it. When you break away you can’t hide the smile across your face and by the looks of it neither can Niamh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you.” She then turns opening the door again, you let her this time and you get into the car. When she climbs in the drivers seat she asks where to.

“Yours?” You suggest. “I can think of a few more ways we can make up for lost time.” You give her a wink and Niamh gets the hint, quickly starting the car in the direction of her apartment. It only takes a few turns before her hand finds its way to your upper thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

Sure it wasn’t the healthiest way of working out your problems together, but it worked, you both got your frustrations out, you were able to express your emotions, show how much you missed each other, how much you loved each other, and by the time morning came the two of you had decided you were back together.

Girlfriends, just long distance ones.

[drowninginblox]

Back Online

Pt: 1, 2, 3

You decided to take some time for yourself.

Charles could read you like an open book, and you loved and hated him for that. When he said you had paid time off, you took it—along with Scott's motorcycle.

You didn't know where you would go but you ended up in Niagrea for a few days, just watching the falls and the people. You also spent some time off Tumblr. The last thing you needed was to be reminded of that damn post again. But the thing was, you found yourself stalking Kurt's known social media in the meantime. It got to the point where you lost sleep over year-old photos of this guy's stupid face. So on the third day, you turned off your phone altogether.

You knew it wasn't smart but you also knew that no one would call you in an emergency. You weren't an X-Men, you knew that too well. So the whole week was yours.

You ate poutine, went to a spa, ordered takeout, watched trash TV, and enjoyed the American/ Canadian border. It wasn't everything you hoped for, but it was better than lingering on everything you left. No- that was for the drive back.

When you got on Scott’s motorcycle and started back on the scenic route, you got to thinking. One step at a time. From how this whole feeling towards Kurt started, to the pinning, to the post, and now… how in every instance you could have just told him at any time. But you didn’t. And now he knows about your crippling feelings through a tumblr post of all things.

The amount of times you swore at yourself outnumbered your fingers and toes. But you continued back to the school. The good part of you wanted to say it was for the students. The bad part of you wanted to say it was because you didn’t have a passport. But the realest answer was that you couldn’t run away. You know too many people who have ran away from their problems- all of the XMen have. But what seperated you from them is that even when shit got tough, and the circumstances where stupid, you always walked towards the problem. Regardless of if it was your own or someone else’s, you always took it head on. Because even the runners get exhausted, and the hiders get paranoid. You’d rather just get it done and over with.

So when you pulled up to the school to see Kurt standing out front waiting for you, you only took a breath and walked up to him. “You’re back.” He said in disbelief. You manage to shrug “I had to.” Kurt kept his eyes on you, taking you in for everything you are. “Y/n, I want to talk to you about that-“ you chuckle, albeit awkwardly “my post? Yeah… I had a feeling.”

He can’t help but avert his gaze and hold the back of his neck while you shove your hands into your coat pockets “Liebling I-“ “Kurt,-“ you manage to say simultaneously. When the two of you realize your shared mistake, you laugh. And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like what happened happened. But when the laughter settled, and the reality edged back, you say it first “You go ahead. Please.” Kurt smiles in thanks. “Y/n, I-" He pauses momentarily to calm himself, and hopefully consider his words. "I’ve thought a lot about what happened, alongside how I reacted. And there’s something that I need to be honest with you about. I just," He stops and sighs. "I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and I just didn’t know it was you who made the post." The hand that rested behind his neck moved to his elbow, fiddling with the fabric of the loose sweatshirt he was wearing.

"I’m hoping that we can talk about it somewhere more private, that’s all to say if that’s alright with you.” You take that in and nod “But before we do, let me say what I wanted to. Please.” You countered. Kurt nodded. "Of course,"

You take a breath of your own and try to remember all the things you want to say. “Kurt, I am very sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m not that brave when it comes to telling others my... romantic feelings because, more often than not, they’re one-sided on my end. So I just- keep to myself and hope it goes away with time." You attempt to chuckle away nerves. "Obviously, that didn’t happen… and I didn’t have anyone I felt comfortable telling. I was scared it would get back to you one way or another." You huff a dry laugh. "Ironic I know," Kurt looks at you with a soft expression but you didn't quite know what was backing it. "So I thought if I shouted into the ether- nothing would happen. Even though I knew you have a Tumblr... I thought I should risk it anyway since I just needed to get it out. So I did,... and now you know.” She hesitates but decides not to take his hand

“Kurt, regardless of what happens or how you feel, know that I still want to be your friend. I understand completely if you don’t- that you need time or that you don’t want me to talk to you at all. But I hope you know that I truly care about you, Kurt," You move only to end up holding yourself. "Whether that be romantically or platonically- I care about you. So… if you want me to buzz off for leave you alone that is completely fine. I just want you to be comfortable.” You swallow down an acidic taste that you hope is pure anxiety. Kurt looks you over for a few moments. You try to meet his eyes. Time passes in this wordless exchange until Kurt offers his hand. "I think we should continue this somewhere else." He decides. You swallow again and attempt a smile with all the hope you have in this relationship- whatever it may be. "Okay." You clasp his hand, and just seconds before you two teleport, he smiles and pulls you into a hug. You manage to close your eyes as the cloud of dark smoke overtakes you.

The lingering scent of vanilla hung in the air, signaling to you that it was okay to open your eyes. You've only been inside of Kurt's room once, maybe twice, and even then it was only for fleeting moments like telling him food is ready. So you took your time taking in all the tapestries, framed photos, overflowing bookshelves, and still burning candles. "Did you leave these burning while we were talking?" You mumbled while looking around. Kurt laughed awkwardly. "Ja… dumm." He chuckles. "The Professor told me you were approaching the campus and I just had to talk with you." You look up to him. "Well, now you can talk to me." Kurt looks down at you. The urge to pull you closer or squeeze you while he has the chance is almost overwhelming. But he overcomes it.

Instead, he lets go and puts a step between you. Both are a means to not scare you and to distance themselves. “So, I know you like me, and... I don't want to lead you astray Y/n. So I’m going to be honest with you. Up until a week ago, I never considered our relationship in that way." You look away. The tightness in your throat is starting to become unbearable. "Hey, hey, hör zu, sieh mich an, meine Schöne. Denken Sie bitte nicht das Schlimmste. Look at me Y/n." He chides, taking a step forward and holding your chin. "Please, look at me. I'm not done. Hear me out okay, liebling?" You can't help but flush when you hear him say that. God damn fanfictions haunting you. "Okay," You relent. he smiles a little and moves your face so the two of you are eye to eye. "When I realized it was you, I wanted nothing else in the world but to go back in time and slap myself. I though that I lost one of the best people in my life." He brushes a thumb over your chin. "And when you left, I was lost. I didn't deserve to know whether or not you were coming back. But when the reality set in that maybe you weren't I-" he sighs and looks away for a moment before returning to your eyes. "I realized I couldn't live without you." You felt yourself get a little lighter at his admission. "Me too." You mumbled.

Kurt swallowed. His pride or nerves, he doesn't know. "Y/n, I don't know to what extent I want our relationship to be. But I know I don't want to live a life without you by my side." He lowers his hand from your chin to your own hand and interlocks your fingers. "I don't know if this will be what you want of me-"

You shake your head and holds his cheek, making Kurt tense. You hesitate but resign yourself to not pulling away. "Kurt, all I want is your happiness. I can get over my feelings. I can move on. The last thing I want is you attempting to force feelings that aren't there." His eyes get a little wide. "Y/n-" "Kurt, you are one of the kindest, most selfless people I know. You are admirable and open, loving, and- to me- you're divine." You brush a thumb over a hot cheek as his face slowly turns violet. "Kurt, you deserve only the best that the world has to offer. Do not put your happiness aside for me. Please," You assure. "Be happy in any way you want, just don't hurt yourself in the process."

Kurt blinks a few times as he processes your words. You keep your eyes on him to gauge his reaction, but other than blinking through too many emotions to properly identify and parting his lips every few seconds, there's nothing much you can do other than question if holding his face is the right thing to do right now. Eventually, he finds himself, closing his mouth and focusing back on the current moment. "Y/n," He starts but cuts himself off. He moves his hands to hold your wrists, moving your hands away from his face. All you can do is swallow and listen to whatever he needs to say. "Y/n, I am a man of many things. You know that." He smiles a little and looks down at your hands. "I'm a man of faith in things most people don't belive in, I am both fierce and cowardly in all senses of the word, and I envy the dramatics of life." He moves his hands to yours from your wrists. His hands turn your palms upwards so the closest finger that could ever be considered as his thumbs can press into your palms.

He takes them in, soft but worn- not in the same ways his are though. You find yourself looking at your own hands as well. "When I was in the circus, a woman taught me how to read palms... she couldn't read mine that well." He chuckled softly, making you giggle in return. "But, I learned how to read others." He drops your nondominant hand and looks closely at the other. "Kurt, what does this-" "Shhhh-" He hushes, looking intently at your palm. "I know I have a flair for the dramatics, but let me do this Y/n," He says before looking up to you. Realizing the proximity and the intimacy of this situation, your face heats up. But you nod for him to keep going regardless.

He smiles and returns to his work. "Now, as much as I love the novelty of this, take it all with a grain of salt....Ah! There," he points to a line closest to your fingers but top most of your palm. "This is your heart line." He explains "Or your love line..." He smiles softly as he trails the line with a finger. The ghost of the touch makes a shiver run up your back. He chuckles. "You see how long it is?" You nod. "That means that you are most likely a good lover... romantic, considerate, caring." You look back at him. "But, I don't need your palm to tell me that." He clasps his other hand around yours, encasing it with his touch. "Y/n, when you left- I didn't know what to do with myself." You look at him slightly concerned. "I was forgetting things more often than I usually do. When meetings were, when to eat, when to sleep..." A dry chuckle escaped him. "I was so worried about you that I neglected myself." You put your spare hand on top of Kurts. "Kurtis..."

He chuckles a little "You're the only person I let call me that... other than Marie." He looks into your eyes. "I was so worried that I lost you over something that I was putting up a front for..." You cocked your head a little. "What do you mean?" Kurt removes his hands from yours and takes out his phone. He finds the screenshot that started all of this. "Y/n, I have reread this post well over a dozen times before I belittled it before you. Not because I thought it was weird or something... it was so flattering. To have someone want to hold, kiss, and love me so unabashedly. Of course, I didn't know it was you... not that that is any excuse. But... You understand why I tried to play it off as a joke right?" You nod in understanding. He could not have known it was you, you made sure of it. "I guess my reaction was enough of a tell..." He smiles at you in understanding, although it comes off as bittersweet considering the situation. He puts his phone away. "Y/n, I don't see you any differently. I hope you know that, but I also want you to understand that my feelings for you have changed and I need to sort them out." You can't help but look away from him. " I won't ask what kind as to not get my hopes up, but can I at least know wether or not you're pitying me." Kurt furrows his brows and holds your cheek. "No! No, Y/n, I do not pity you or look down on you for this. Ehrlich. I just wish you trusted someone on the team to tell rather than do this." Your throat tightened. "If I did, I knew it would get back to you. One way or another." He sighs. "And this was better?"

The only sound comes from the to-and-fro flick of Kurt's tail.

He just brushes a thumb over your cheek, watching as your inner turmoil reflects through your eyes. "Just give me some time to figure this out, okay?" You glance back at him. His golden eyes soften at the understanding between the two of you. Even though you hate how everything has turned out, it's gotten you here regardless. You sigh and turn to fully look him in the eyes. "Take as much time as you need." You assure. He smiles at you, this time it's far more genuine. "Thank you." He mumbles. You nod and back away from him. All he can do is watch as you make your way to the door. You open it and turn back to him "We're still friends?" You mumble. He smiles. "Always." You return the smile and nod before leaving the room.

Finally, he can plan.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

MAJOR DRDT CHP 2 EP 16 SPOILERS

hey guys what the FUCK JUST HAPPENED. holy SHIT. never ask a gay person what happened October 5th 2024.

first can i say that the execution was phenomenal. i miss ace SO MUCH already but goodness the ending hurt. i had a feeling he’d die of fear once the execution started but that did NOT make it any easier to watch. holy shit.

i love how much self reflection happened. Ace, after all this time of being unable to repent for the harm he caused, instilled that motivation to be better into Arturo to save Levi’s life. from being called a coward by teruko to calling someone else on their cowardlyness was honestly kind of cathartic to see. ngl im excited to see what’s ahead for arturo after this!!

despite Teruko’s whole speech about how she won’t die, Levi jumped in to save her. he says he doesn’t understand human empathy but this was pretty damn close. even tho she assured everyone she’d be fine, Levi tried to save her anyways, but again it could just be driven by his need to do what he thinks a good person would do. praying he survives cause holy shit. him saying that he doesn’t understand Ace and Ace trying to push him away even more really stung….

MonoTV’s reset actually caught me so off guard. i kinda love it tho, it really displays the tone shift. ofc this killing game has been fucked up from the start, but it’s gotten even darker now as the main source of humor as well as comical incompetence is no longer who we knew it as. very likely that monotv won’t have another slip up like losing who’s motive is who’s again next chapter.

terukos development…. holy shit. I can’t stop saying holy shit bc tbh all of these are my thoughts immediately after finishing it and im still recovering from shock so take these with a grain of salt. i absolutely love how her arc has gone. as many have said previously, Ace is an example to Teruko what the isolation she forced herself through can do to people. Ace is the tragedy that could befall her as well. not to make things about percy jackson, but it’s very akin to the luke and percy foils (ik it’s not the same thing really I just wanted to mention their character foils) Arei is one side of the coin, and Ace, and Teruko if she kept going how she was before this trial, are the other. Arei was able to own up to her mistakes, and the others weren’t.

There’s also something that really displays their similarities when Teruko has to stay behind to cry because she’s too cowardly to face the group this way. Might just be because of timing but yk just a thought. Teruko was essentially admitting of guilt for Xander’s death and missing him, as well as Min. It really is easier to pretend as if everything is out of your control, even when you could have done something. Teruko has to learn about what’s beyond her dichotomy of blame and fate.

okay guys. let’s get this out of the way. um. this sprite is NOT helping you beat the mastermind allegations Whit. I actually jumped out of my seat seeing this sprite, it was actually quite horrifying to witness this. in response to Min’s execution, Whit had hardly much of a reaction, which has been a bit suspicious but likely has to do with how he grieves considering his mother. This tho…. i can’t tell if it makes him more or less suspicious (genuinely if anyone wants to talk about things that either prove or disprove Whit mastermind theories pls go ahead im so interested in what people think cause im at a loss). but like…. why is his hand behind him. what is he doing.

genuinely so wild how this whole time, Whit has only show a significant amount of care for Charles. yea i love charwhit they gay as hell, but even so, this specific focus that Whit has when it comes to Charles is something that, if Whit really is the mastermind or even just a traitor, it could be reaaaallllyyy bad news for Charles. I would not be surprised if he was trying to get close to Charles to make it hurt as much as possible when he revealed himself to be the mastermind or something of that nature. Or it could just be him having grown an attachment to Charles in some way (again pls lmk what you think about whit!!!) We’re not getting the happy love story we want but what did we expect when it’s a fanganronpa.

so yeah those are my thoughts on the ending of chapter 2! I planned to do a quick funny post and yet here i am writing analysis for half an hour. goodness. anyways to make up for funny post, i saw this part of Ace’s execution and my first thought was bungo stray dogs reference (crowd starts booing).

[pixiesfz]

okay so this idea is a bit out there but you know that girl on tik tok who has the woso wall and talks about all the drama in woso.She also has a wall trying to figure out if Lucy and keira are dating or ona and Lucy so I think it could be cute if you made a fic about that girl making a wall about if reader and jessie are together or if they’re dating different players and then them finding out about it and stuff.Idk I just made that up in my head so you don’t have to do it it’s just an idea 😘

YES OMG WAIT THIS IS FUNNY

on the wall j.f

plot: your sister sends you a tik tok that has you and your secret girlfriend having a serious conversation

warning: that crazy tik tok lady

It was a Tuesday afternoon when your sister sent you a link, you had just returned from your trip to Canada where Jessie took you to meet her friends and family and you couldn’t have been happier.

devils spawn: little sis…

y/n: what is it Katie?

devils spawn: you’ve made it to the wall

y/n: huh?

devils spawn: *insert link*

You furrowed your eyebrows as the link took you into tik tok, a video that already had over 65,000 likes.

“Now Tom” a woman’s voice started as she pointed at a wall, your eyes shot up at the amount of pictures of your sister and her current girlfriend and also ex girlfriend as well as other soccer players such as Lucy and Keira.

Then you saw what she was pointing at a picture of you that was next to a picture of Jessie.

You I paused the video and watched along.

“Now the McCabe sisters did not go home for their Christmas holidays this year” she stated as you looked at recent pictures from your trips to Canada and Ireland.

“Now this is y/n Mccabe, Katie’s younger sister, we��ve mentioned her a couple of times when she posted pictures of her, Katie and Caitlin” and you thought back to that post that was a couple months ago.

How long has this been going on? You thought.

“Now I haven’t put it on the board yet because their wasn’t enough evidence but it is rumoured that y/n is dating a Canadian soccer player Jessie playing who plays for Chelsea, a rival of Arsenal.

“Why would she date the enemy” the guy asked and the woman looked at him “because that’s a cool love story Tom” she rebutted.

“Well anyways, it’s confirmed that y/n dated Georgia Stanway when she was on a loan at man city” she said and pointed to an old photo of you and Georgia when you played for the team “broke up when Georgia went to Germany, we don’t know if Jessie has dated anyone other than the fact that some Chelsea fans thinks that her and team mate Niamh Charles could be an item as they are very close” she pointed at photos of both Jessie and Niamh which you paused the video to laugh at the conspiracy of her girlfriend and her bestfriend.

“But y/n was seen spending Christmas at Canada which is where Jessie is from but this isn’t the only time they’ve been caught together, at the World Cup Jessie was seen watching the Ireland vs. Australia game with an Ireland top on, very similiar to Caitlin” she rambled on “I don’t have a good enough photo of that” she muttered “then there’s also a group of pictures online that looks like a double date between the two couples” she pointed at two photos that were stuck next to each other, one with Caitlin and Katie and one with you and Jessie, though you had posted the photo months apart it was clear it was the same place.

Your mouth kept on dropping as the girl talked about instances where it could’ve been possible that you and Jessie were a thing.

When Jessie came back from training you shoved the phone into her face “watch” you demanded and say her down.

You watched her reactions as she furrowed her brows “what the heck?” She asked as you nodded “how did they know about that?” She asked when the woman talked about Jessie at your game “apparently people are more observant then we think” you told her and she glued her eyes back onto the phone.

“Remember this Tom cause I don’t think this will be the last time we talk about this couple” the woman stated before the video ended.

Jessie turned to you.

“That was the second weirdest thing I’ve seen today” she said and you furrowed your brows “then what’s the first?” You asked “well Erin showed me a video-“ “I already don’t want to know” you shut her mouth and she laughed.

“How did you find that?” Jessie asked “Katie sent it to me. They’ve been doing videos on her and Caitlin and Ruesha for a while now” you said as you scrolled through the account.

“It’s a little bit weird but expected” Jessie said and you turned to her “how so expected?” You asked and she shrugged “I mean I don’t extremely like it but women’s football is now getting more hype and I guess more fans”

You nodded at your girlfriend “I don’t like how people are caring more about our love life’s then our talent, I bet this woman doesn’t even know what position we play” you said and Jessie took your phone out of your hand.

“Should we just tell people we’re dating to make them stop making assumptions then?” Jessie asked and you looked to the wall “I don’t know” you said “I guess I’m just trying to get used to it all” you shrugged.

Jessie reached her arms around you and pulled you into a hug which you accepted “well you have me and I’ll help you get used to it all” she said and kissed you on the forehead, you smiled before pushing bf her off “have a shower you smell” you told her and she laughed.

“Well you just hugged me so I guess we both need a shower”.

You ended up getting used to the videos people made about you and Jessie, finding some of them funny and even entertaining some of it.

You commented on the wall girls tik tok once asking Tom to blink twice if he needed help and the media went crazy for it.

You and Jessie did eventually open up to the public about your relationship, posting a photo of you at a Chelsea dinner with Jessie’s hand on your thigh as you kissed her cheek.

‘she may look happy here but we made a bet that she would wear my Arsenal kit if we won the derby so @_jessflem you ready?’ Was your caption.

You were so overwhelmed by the amount of love and craziness that happened under the post you left your phone for the day whilst Jessie read out the comments begging for the photos of Jessie in the kit.

Jessie reposted the post adding a message saying that nobody would ever see the photos of her in your kit.

“That wasn’t as hard as we thought” Jessie said as she pulled you into her chest that night and kissed you goodnight

[adventuringblind]

Bucket List

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: soul shredding, crying so hard, etc.

Request: no but I felt like crying so here ya go. If you have a specific scenario you would like to cry too, please request it. I love off human tears

Summary: her body loved to contract problems. Charles is determined to stay by her side.

Warnings: soul shattering, talks of illness, not proofread because I can’t edit and cry at the same time… I am not that talented

Notes: idk why I did this to myself…

Masterlist

Some people are just naturally drawn to tragedy. Though, for most, it's unwilling. This is the case for Charles Leclerc.

He fell in love in an unexpected way. At the hospital. Falling into her on accident.

It was 2015, he was still a child, in his way out from visiting Jules. He was teary eyed and lost in thought.

Until he fell on top of her. The pills in her hand flying everywhere.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He scrambled back to his feet and helped her up. The two trying to pick everything up.

“It’s okay, really, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

They got everything picked picked up, then they looked at each other. Really looked at each other.

She smiled. “No offense but, you look like shit and I feel like shit. Wanna make it up to me with lunch?”

They spent the rest of the day together. Charles learned their the same age. She wanted to travel. She’s dying.

It was terrible to learn. He didn’t know how to react.

“I’ve accepted it. I want to live before I die.”

His heart knew what he should do, but his mind didn’t want to let her in. Jules was already on the verge of leaving him. Could he do this again? If he was able to help her get closure, maybe he could find closure with Jules. It was a dumb idea. A terrible idea, really.

“Come with me. I travel a lot for racing. We can do whatever you have left in your bucket list.” He blurted before he could think about it more.

She smiled. “Sure.”

~

They became fast friends. She followed him to every race. Her parents were apprehensive at first, but they saw how much she wanted this and they weren’t going to deny her.

They tried to go as many places as possible with her, but work always caught up with them. The Leclerc’s became her second family.

She was able to help Charles through Jules eventual death. He cried for days. His races were getting increasingly difficult. The pain behind his eyes was evident.

She stayed with him. Comforted him. Made him keep going when he wanted to quit.

It took time, but Charles got there. He kept going. It was because of her.

~

Charles dragged her around the Paddock. She was know as his best friend. Pierre often teasing the two about it. The French constantly nagging Charles about when he was going to confess to her.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want too. He had fallen in love with her view on life. How she wanted to enjoy every second. They were able to do that together.

He could tell though, her body was steadily getting weaker. Her lungs struggling to to breathe. Yet she didn’t waiver. Her smile was contagious.

He took her to see every monument. She tried every food. They took a ridiculous amount of pictures.

Then it happened again.

Charles didn’t understand why it was him. How he attracted so much death to the people around him.

His father was sick during his formula 2 career. It was difficult for him to get through, yet somehow he came back stronger. She’d helped him with Jules and again with his father. He couldn’t help thinking she was some sort of guardian angel. Sent specifically to him for this reason.

They both broke down when he won that race and dedicated it to his father. Joy and sorrow mixed into their sobs.

~

Then he kissed her.

When he signed his formula 1 contract, he thought he was dreaming. This notion led to him doing things he wouldn’t normally with the newfound confidence. Including kissing her.

She kissed back.

He’d helped her cross everything off her bucket list; Including falling in love. She’d known for awhile but didn’t want to push anything. They both knew what was coming. They knew her time was limited.

So they made the most of it. Charles took her out on dates whenever he could. They did things that weren’t even on her list. They watched every movie they could think of.

She smiled through it all. The doctors didn’t think she would live this long. The medication she was on was doing better then expected.

Charles didn’t want to waste any time though. Neither of them knew when her time would come. Everyday was a blessing.

When he signed with Ferrari, he knew he wanted to marry her. He would have never made it here without her.

He gave her everything. A proposal on the beach, a wedding that made her feel elated, a caring husband who was there on her hardest days.

She was around the paddock so much that everyone knew her. Everyone wanted to be around her. She was filled with life even though she knew she was knocking on deaths door.

~

It had been a cloudy day. Rain dripping down the window. She was drinking hot chocolate and reading a book. It was her favorite kind of atmosphere.

She’d been feeling terrible all day. Thankful that Charles had time off for the winter to help her around.

They had friends visiting. Pierre, Lando, and Max had come to stay for the week.

It was crazy to her that Charles was going into his fifth year in F1. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d get to see him through this far. She felt blessed for it.

She felt so exhausted. Yet she still smiled when Charles came over and kissed her head.

Everything was so bright. It felt warm and comforting. Like Charles embrace. She could feel him holding her.

She wiped a tear from him cheek.

“I love you. Don’t forget it.” Then she smiled. Somehow she managed to catch a glimpse of his smile.

Her gaze moved to behind him. She saw Jules and Charles father. They were greeting her.

She knew what was happening. She could stop it.

With the last of her strength, she kissed Charles. Then let herself be embraced by the warmth.

~

It had been a month. He’d been grieving his loss. Barely talking to anyone. He’d lost his smile.

The funeral was hard. The entire grid had shown up. To mourn her and support him.

It felt like so much time had passed and was frozen simultaneously. He was struggling to take care of himself.

He was angry with life for constantly taking away his loved ones. It wasn’t fair. He wanted more time with them. With her.

Arthur had been staying with him. When he couldn’t, Pierre would. They tried to get him to get out of the house. Nothing they said seemed to help him. They knew it was going to be slow.

Pierre had come into his dark and messy room. Taking a seat at the end of his bed. “I wanted to let you know that they finished the grave stone. We don’t have to go see it today though. Whenever you’re ready.” Then he left.

Charles was ready to go in ten minutes. He looked tired and broken, but he was up. He needed to see her. Something to provide him with closure.

Pierre drove them to the cemetery. Stopping to get her favorite flowers along the way. When he parked the car, he didn’t get out. “I think you should have a minute to talk to her.” Then he pulled out an envelope from his pocket. “She asked me to give this you when you were ready.”

Charles shakily took the envelope and made his way to where she now rest.

~

It didn’t take him long. He’d spent hours choosing exactly where he wanted her to eternally rest. Close to the river that flowed through the cemetery. Underneath the shade of a large tree.

The words written across her grave made him choke out more sobs.

Y/N Leclerc, loving wife, lover of life, may your smile still be contagious from above the clouds

He gently sets the flowers down on top of the stone. Then he just sits. He doesn’t care in the ground is cold and wet. It feels natural to sit with her,

He opens the letter Pierre handed to him. Scared to read her words. Her handwriting looked a littler rushed. She’d written poetic words of comfort. Love seeped off the page.

She’d made him a bucket list. Things to do after she was gone. And at the very bottom: find someone to smile with.

~

She looked on at him. Her hand grazing his shoulder. She was glad the letter made him smile despite the tears.

“He’s going to be okay.” Jukes smiled from behind her.

“I know, he’s strong.”

Herve places a hand in his other shoulder. “You taught him well.”

“I think we all did.” She chuckles.

“Thanks for taking care of him all these year when we couldn’t.”

~

Dear Charlie,

I know my time is running out. I can feel myself getting weaker by the day. I know it’s not fair to you that I have to leave so soon. Regardless, the time I’ve spent with you has been the most amazing thing life could have blessed me with.

Remember that life gives you rough patches so you can appreciate the smiles that much more. Remember that your friends and family love you just as mulch as I do.

Don’t mourn for me, because I’m not gone. You can find me in the memories, the laughs, the tears. I’m with you, always.

I’ve taken the liberty of creating you a new bucket list. You can complete this in your own time, don’t feel rushed to do so. I just want you to remember that there is still life for you to live.

Learn how to cook

Stargaze from the track

Visit every state in America

Win the WDC

Find someone who makes you smile

Love your favorite person,

Y/N

P.S.: I’ll make sure Jules hasn’t been causing trouble in the afterlife

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Bark; don't bite

~ Sean MacGuire/Male!Reader

~ Platonic or romantic

~ 1.2k words

Request :3

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Loneliness. A word that stung in each and every which way and yet, it’s how you felt more often than not. To put it simply, you were terrifying. Easily towering over the gang by a good few inches depending on the person. Built like a tree that had just been through the worst of storms, intimidating was an understatement. Skin tainted with scars and blemishes alike. 

You had been in the gang for a long while, though you can count on one hand the amount of interactions you’ve had with everyone aside from Dutch and Susan respectively. While they didn’t outright fear you, it’d be a stretch to assume they’d go out of their way for a casual conversation. 

You were, essentially, a guard dog. Anyone in their right mind would shit their pants if they saw you coming towards them. As such, you don’t leave camp much. On the rare occasion you do, you’re put up front. Acting as the silent brute you’re built as. You’re not even sure if your family, the gang, has heard your voice.

While you appreciate their company, their stares said more. You were self conscious in your own right. Having people, friends, family, and foes, gawk at you and prod for answers on which injuries you got when...not fun. 

You couldn’t necessarily fault them either. You kept to yourself for a reason. A confidential, disturbing reason. Spending most of your days doing mindless chores around camp and whatever favors people asked of you like lifting a wagon to put a wheel back on, or scaring people into their word. It felt like Dutch was the only one who could withstand your stare most days. On the plus side, you’d never have to deal with the real annoying folk like Micah.

That was, at least, until an Irishman by the name of Sean MacGuire joined the gang not so recently. If you could describe that man in one word, it’d be loud-mouthed. You never paid him mind all too much, considering you were out on a stagecoach robbery with Charles and John when Dutch brought the redhead in.

When you got back, Dutch all but shoved Sean in your direction, causing him to stumble slightly with an offended “oi!” Glaring over his shoulder towards Dutch before the latter makes a gesture towards you, causing him to turn right back around.

Sean’s eyes widen subtly as he comes face to face with your pecs before he cranes his neck to look up towards you. A slow grin begins to spread across his face, his eyes practically twinkling incredulously. “Holy Mother of Mary.. bet your ma fed ya the good shit, didn’t she?” He jokes causing you to crack a hint of a smile, much to Dutch’s amazement.

“Well I’ll be damned..” Dutch mutters. Remembering his presence, you’re quick to dig into your pockets and pull out what little money the stagecoach carried, passing half up to Dutch. Unfortunately not nearly enough, causing the heist to be a dud. Charles and John walk back into camp as if the whole debacle never happened– you can’t blame them. 

Dutch accepts the money and flips through the bills, only to sigh in disappointment and pockets it. “Ya gotta name, big lad?” Sean pipes up once again, causing you to look back down towards him. “Y/N.” you respond curtly as you stuff your money back into your pocket as Dutch walks off to do something you don’t care to ask about.

“Y/N..” Sean echoes with a bark of a laugh. You can’t deny he’s a change of pace around camp. He has a spark you haven’t seen in a long, long time. Sean grins and extends his hand forth to be shaken, to which you echo his motion and grip his smaller hand in yours, giving it a firm shake.

“Sean MacGuire.. but the ladies call me the Irish Terrier. If ya know what I mean.” He flaunts, seeming proud of that title. You hadn’t a god damn clue on what that meant, but his laughter was contagious, causing you to chuckle lightly, of which Sean points out in a teasing manner. “Hadn’t a clue mountains could laugh.” He lets go of your hand and playfully backhands you in the chest.

You weren’t sure why Sean was being so polite with you. You weren’t used to it whatsoever. You were scary and fucked up to the highest caliber. And yet, here Sean is. Not only relentlessly teasing you, but actually conversing. That’s more than you could say for most people around camp.

Your dynamic was a strange one. Sean could talk so much that it would make anyone want to tear their ears off by hand. You talked so little that your presence would easily be forgotten, had you not been built like a brick shithouse.

He often spoke up for you. You kept your head down and stayed silent at almost any instance of judgement or staring. Sean, however, wouldn’t have that. It was like a chihuahua standing up for a great dane. Amusing, yet not exactly effective.

He would go on and on and on, for hours if he could, blatantly threatening and causing a ruckus on anyone who stared. He didn’t quite understand your distaste for leaving camp, but he sure tried. His bickering often ended up with you having to stand up for him without a word. Towering over him and staring down at whomever Sean picked a fight with was more than enough.

“Serves ‘em right. Oughta carve their eyes from their sockets for starin’, I will. They don’t got a clue on ya, lad. Taller than the Heavens above, ya are but yer a damn sweetheart.” Sean huffs as he folds his arms over his chest, turning to look up at you instead of the person you scared shitless.

You could feel your cold heart melt just a bit at that. You were scary. You’d been through more than even you could comprehend. Yet Sean saw through all of that. He saw the man who liked to draw in his journal or embroider patterns onto patches of cloth. He saw the man that would drop off random flowers for him without batting an eye.

You chuckle as you push the brim of his hat down over his eyes, causing him to scoff and lift it back up. You only had him to thank for pulling you out of your shell as much as he has– even if it’s nowhere near enough to make a difference to anyone else.

The two of you acted on the other’s behalf should either not be able to do something. For him, it was speaking up for you. For you, it was picking up his slack. You loved him, but he was damn lazy. Despite that, you enjoyed helping out. Especially when your efforts were paid in cheek kisses..and maybe a couple dollars.

He was overconfident in his abilities, though you didn’t humble him. Instead, you silently taught him how to shoot better. Pressing your hands on different parts of his body and forcing him to straighten out. Unfortunately, he struck two of six bottles.

Instead of being disappointed like anyone normally would, he seemed prideful and arrogant. Impressed with himself for even getting that. His antics amused you, as much as you cared for him. You were starting to consider that maybe, gang life wouldn’t be so bad with him around. Now all that’s left to do is plan for the upcoming trip to Rhodes.

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Thank you for the request !! this was a really cute prompt !! :3 I hope you like it !!

[rebelwrites]

Sixteen: Give Me Your Goddamn Kutte!

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

Warning; Jax loses his shit

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Juice kept quiet as Jax planted his hand firmly on his shoulder, he didn’t care if he was squeezing the muscle like it was a piece of paper ready to be tossed into the trash can. The whole club pulled their weight, paying their dues each month and making sure all the businesses are fit to make as much money as possible, yet for some reason Juice decided that he could be the one to slack off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the cutest sight, Elenor sitting on Nova’s knee whilst Charles had his arm wrapped around his sister’s shoulder and with the other hand he was helping Elenor color in whichever coloring book she had brought with her. He felt his heart flip watching the three of them together. The only thing was worried about was when Charles had to leave for the rest of the racing season, he knew it was going to not only break his sister’s heart but also his daughter’s as well.

Pushing the thoughts down, he tightened his grip on Juice’s shoulder, marching him into the kitchen. Jax was no longer playing around with the giant man baby.

This was his livelihood he was playing with now.

The moment they walked into the kitchen a heavy silence fell over the room as Juice backed himself into the corner, “you had so many fucking chances,” Jax growled, slamming his palms against the stainless steel counter, watching as Juice winced at the sound echoing around the room. “I stuck my fucking neck out on the line for you,” he paused for a moment taking in the guilty look that was taking over Juice’s expressions, “but you didn’t know that, did you?”

“No,” Juice muttered quietly, dropping his gaze down to his feet.

“The first time you fucked up Nova wanted me to kick your ass to the curb,” Jax snarled, gripping the edge of the worktop so tightly his knuckles were starting to turn white, “then the second time, I lied for you! Once again so Nova didn’t fucking chop your dick off, and this is how you repay me?”

Jax could feel his blood pressure rising, he knew his voice would be echoing around the room, no doubt everyone in the bar heard every word he was saying, but right now he couldn’t see past the rage, especially when Juice burst out laughing.

“Please tell me you aren’t fucking laughing right now?” Jax spat lunging across the room, wrapping his hand around Juice’s throat, slamming him against the stainless steel cabinets. “Look at me,” he growled, venom dripping on his every word. Juice ignored Jax’s demands, “I said fucking look at me you piece of shit. Fucking explain yourself.”

“I thought it was okay seen as Nova is suddenly swanning around with that fucking Formula One driver!” Juice snapped, narrowing his eyes at Jax.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Jax roared, there was no way he was blaming his sister right now. “Nova fucking runs herself into the ground for this family and this club. If you have forgotten she was running the bar and the cafe for nearly the best part of a year. She hardly fucking slept, she lives off energy drinks and there were about three times she nearly put herself in hospital due to exhaustion and on the fourth time she ended up in the ER from the amount of caffeine she had, but we kept that quiet from you all because you didn’t need to know!” Jax paused for a moment, taking a breath, “oh, I forgot she's been the main carer for JT. So yes, I believe she is the one who deserves to have the summer off, maybe even fall in love, and I was the one to tell her to take a step back.”

Juice didn’t speak, the guilty look on his face had disappeared as quickly as it appeared, instead he was smirking. Jax couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed this before, the Puerto Rican was high right now. Without thinking he balled his fingers into a fist before raising his arm letting his knuckles collide with Juice’s jaw, “you are a fucking joke right now, showing up high and trying to bring down my sister.”

“Whatcha gonna do? Beat me?”

“I should fucking bury you!” Jax snarled, releasing his grip of Juice’s throat taking a couple of steps back, running his fingers through his hair, fixing a couple of strands of hair that had fallen out of place, “give me your goddamn kutte!”

Juice stared back at Jax in slight disbelief, but his movements were fast as he ripped off the well worn leather hanging on his shoulders, “do you know what Jackson, fuck you!” Juice snapped, launching the kutte on the tiled floor like it was a piece of litter to him. “Everything is about you and fucking Nova, neither of you fucking care about anyone else,” he seethed, narrowing his eyes at Jax, “she isn’t the only one trying to keep their head above water, running multiple businesses.”

He took a step closer to Jax, who was standing there in shock at the sudden outburst from someone Jax thought he knew, turns out he didn’t, “you are actually doing me a favor,” Juice scoffed, running his hand over his face, “I can actually work less to support myself instead of this stupid fucking club.”

“Juicy Boy.”

“Don’t fucking Juicy Boy me,” he snapped, glaring at Jax, “Nova has been looking for a reason to kick me to the curb, no one ever fucking checked on me, it was all about precious Nova! Do you know what screw you Jax and screw the club, all this means is I don’t have to keep providing everyone with weed at a heavily discounted rate meaning my goddam takings at my shop will double!” Juice was now pacing the room but suddenly stopped turning to face Jax with a wide smirk on his face, “plus I will get to keep all my own profits.”

Jax felt his expression drop, running his fingers through his hair. His stomach twisted into a tight knot as he realized that Juice was telling the truth.

“You forgot the shop was in my name, not the clubs, didn’t you?” Juice chuckled, as he made his way to the fire exit, “everyone is working themselves to the fucking bone for this club and for what? You don’t even see what's happening in front of your own eyes! Thanks for nothing, I guess, so much for the fucking brotherhood,” he spat before leaving Jax standing in the kitchen frozen to the spot.

His head was spinning, Juice had never kicked off like this before. Leaning against the stainless steel worktop Jax let out a strangled cry. This wasn’t what he needed on the day of the fundraiser but everything Juice said had struck a nerve with him, maybe he was right, maybe he was too focused on the Teller bubble to notice all the other things that were happening around him.

Did everyone feel like this towards him and Nova?

Were they all putting on a front around them?

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!” he screamed, turning towards the refrigerator letting his fist collide with the metal, not caring about the pain that seared through his knuckles, he kept punching the appliance trying to release the frustration building up in his body.

The music had been turned up to drown out the sounds of the argument of Jax and Juice but nothing could mask the painful screams that echoed through the building. Running my hands over my face I pressed a kiss against the top of Elenor’s head, “Ça vous dérange de la surveiller pendant que je m'occupe de Jax ? You mind keeping an eye on her while I take care of Jax?” I asked Charles and Pierre but keeping my gaze focused on behind the bar.

“Tout va bien ? Is everything ok?” Charles asked softly, running his fingers over the back of my neck.

“Not sure yet,” I sighed, taking a deep breath, “if you can just watch her whilst I go see if Jax is okay that would be great.”

“Of course, Sunshine,” Pierre teased, with a wide smirk on his face.

Rolling my eyes at him, I shuffled Elenor so she was now sitting on the leather sofa. “Why don’t you go show Charles and Pierre your fairy garden?” I asked softly, finally looking down at the sweet innocent girl.

“Wait, you have a fairy garden?” Charles exclaimed, making me smile. No one could doubt he was good with Elenor, “come on then, lead the way Little Bear,” he grinned, holding his hand out. My heart fluttered watching her happily take his hand along with the bright grin that appeared on her face at the sound of the nickname Charles called her.

Pulling the sleeves of Charles hoodie over my hands I slowly made my way towards the kitchen, there were no sounds of arguing anymore so that had to be a good sign right? Either Juice had left or Jax completely lost his temper and Juice’s body would be lying on the floor.

Taking a deep breath I pushed the door open, finding Jax slumped on the floor, his fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at his roots, “fuck, Jax, what happened?” I breathed, panic flooding my body, I had never seen him like this before.

In front of me sat the shell of the man I loved.

“Talk to me,” I whispered, crouching down in front of my brother.

“We fucked up Squirt,” he muttered, letting out a heavy sigh before pushing himself to his feet, storming out of the kitchen.

What the fuck was he on about?

How did we fuck up?

For once it felt like things were finally changing for the better, I was finally getting some sleep, everything felt like it was under control and I had finally met someone who made me feel so many emotions, who set my world on fire and I didn’t want to extinguish the flames. It was like always life had a funny way of kicking me to the ground, leaving me in the dirt.

Letting out a shaky breath I quickly followed my older brother, the moment I stepped through the fire escape I felt the warmth of the sun hit my skin making me rethink my choice of clothing this morning.

“Jaxy,” I hummed, dropping down to the floor joining him on the patio, “talk to me, what's going on?”

“You are gonna hate me for this,” he growled into the air, placing a cigarette between his lips before passing the packet to me, “we might have been too harsh on Juice.”

I practically choked on the first inhale of the cigarette, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Had Jax hit his head or something? “Please tell me this is some fucking joke?” I scoffed, resting my elbows on my knees, “he got in your head didn’t he?”

“Nova, just think about it. We have been so caught up with Pops, the whole messy divorce and custody battle with Tara. For the past year at least we have been fighting to keep our family from drowning,” he sighed, taking a long drag of the smoke. “We failed to notice that everyone else was working their fucking asses off for us, for the club. I think we need to hire more people, a lot more.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, Jax was willing to let random outsiders come in and work the businesses the club had worked so hard to build. I felt like I was losing control and there was nothing I could do about it.

The more I thought about it, the more appealing packing everything into a duffle bag, tossing it into the trunk of my beat up truck and hitting the road without a second glance. In the same breath I knew I was tied to this small town in the middle of nowhere, there was no way I could walk away from my family.

“We aren’t talking about this now,” I scoffed, pushing myself to my feet, “we have less than an hour before that bar is full of people wanting to take part in the annual fundraiser. So take a breath, beat the shit out of the garbage can or something but you need your game face on.”

“Nova,” Jax called out to me as tossed the cigarette butt into the metal bin.

“Not the time Jax,” I hollered over my shoulder as I moved around the building going to find Charles, Pierre and Elenor.

My head was spinning, I was happy enough to welcome Nero into the business with open arms because he was practically family but to welcome strangers in, well that was a different matter entirely. Taking a deep breath I made my way towards the one person that could drown out the voices, my worries and fears.

The warmth of the sun didn’t match the feeling that spread through my body as Charles smiled at me, I was falling hard for him. It was like I had jumped out of a plane without a parachute and the ground was coming at me faster than ever.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot the closer I got to him. Everything was suddenly clear, I was becoming addicted and my drug was Charles Leclerc.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[notf1obsessed]

a little flirting hurt no one (Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz)

Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.

Chapter 19: Pretty when you cry

side a/n: I was meant to release this way earlier sorry abt that.

A/N: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD (for now). so super super sorry about all that, a shit ton happened in this past month which kinda prevented me from updating (and also my laziness). I'm on vacation rn but it won't be long and only about 2 weeks. I'll hopefully get back into my habit of posting every 2 weeks if all goes well. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! (It's pretty short just to move things along but I promise next one will be longer)

Don't say you need me when,

You leave and leave again,

I'm stronger than all my men,

Except for you,

- Pretty when you cry - Lana Del Rey

________________________________________________

When Charles awoke that morning, he found a weight holding his waist down, and an extra leg sprawled over his. Turning his head, he was reminded of the embarrassing scene (in his opinion at least) that had unfolded the night prior. Flustering, Charles quickly rolled away from Carlos's grasp, thankful to the fact Carlos hadn't woken up.

Sitting up, the Monegasque realized there was no escaping this, he was in the middle of the sea for gods sake. So doing what any rational person would do, he got up, brushed his teeth, and plopped back onto the couch phone in hand. His finger mindlessly scrolled through the endless masses of content, passing the time until Carlos woke up and they could go get breakfast.

Much like Charles, Oscar also happened to be awake; barely getting any sleep that night. The scene in the bathroom kept replaying in his head, guilt crippling over him, as if he was the one who had crashed his lips onto Carlos's. Alas, he didn't want to worry Lando, so he kept his doll face on, not a challenging task for him considering he's had to do it many times before in media.

Finally, the Spaniard eyes fluttered open, rubbing circles at them as he yawned.

"Good morning," he said as he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

"Good morning to you too," Charles tried to repeat with the least amount of anxiety in his voice, clearly failing as he cringed at the way he said it.

Unlike Charles, Carlos didn't seem to have an ounce of worry or care in the world, as if cuddling your teammate was the most normal everyday thing to do.

"Are you okay?" The Spaniard asked after brushing his teeth, "after what happened last night."

"Yes, yes perfectly fine you don't have to worry," Charles stated in panic, embarrassment filling him.

"Well you can always talk to me Charles, I'm your teammate and also your friend."

The reassurance made Charles feel a little less flustered and a little warmer, knowing that he could trust and count on somebody was a nice feeling to have.

"Now cmon we need to get to breakfast," he added, grabbing a set of clothes and retreating back into the bathroom to change, "I've already texted Lando we'll be down in 20."

After taking turns changing, the two drivers made their way downstairs and to the restaurant entrance, which to their surprise, was relatively empty.

"There you are!" Lando stated joyfully, "we've been waiting for you two!"

Laughing, Carlos playfully snapped in return, "I said we'd be down here in 20, so impatient."

As they took their seats, Charles couldn't help but notice the tired expression on Oscar's face, dark bags beneath his eyes that barely seemed to open. He's seen this sate before, many times, in himself.

There was something up with Oscar.

Although he knew there was something worrying Oscar , he decided not to approach the subject around a group of people, especially when he knew the Australian didn't trust him enough.

Lando chewed at the plate of hash browns and eggs he had brought, with Carlos and Charles opting for pancakes and eggs.

Oscar however, barely had any food on his plate, to which Charles was quick to notice.

This was more serious than he thought.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, be back in a sec," said the Australian after swirling his food around his plate.

After he had made his way to the bathroom, Charles decided to interfere.

"Me too," he added, knowing for a fact the Aussie wasn't going to the bathroom for the right reasons, let alone any reason. He needed to figure what was wrong before it escalated any further.

Making his way through the restaurant and to the bathroom, he was weary to not startle the younger one, after all he needed to make sure Oscar could trust him.

The Aussie was stood facing the mirror, hands on sink and lost in thought.

"Hey mate," the Monegasque said as he approached the spot next to the other one. He seemed to snap out of thought at the sound of Charles, yet he gave no reply.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he almost immediately replied, voice full of nervousness and doubt.

"I know something's wrong, you can't keep lying to yourself and me," Charles stated, feeling worry for the boy as if he was his own son.

Knowing there was no escaping this, the other let out a sigh, though he wasn't going to just blurt out the full truth.

"I'm just...feeling a lot of weight on my shoulders recently, like this guilt that doesn't belong to me is still burdening me."

"Do you know what it is?" Charles pushed, wanting to get the answer out of him.

Although it was clear he pushed too far as the younger seemed to tense up and divert his gaze.

Knowing he had crossed a boundary, there was no getting more answers today, he would have to earn his further trust.

"Well if you ever want to talk about it, I'm always here," the Monegasque stated as his final words, stepping away from the marble sink top and towards the exit, "Cya at the table, if you still feel like eating."

The Aussie nodded his head as a salutation, still not looking him in the eye.

While he still didn't feel comfortable telling Charles, it was nice to know someone he could count on .

It was nice to know someone else who cared about him.

[rickybaby]

in relation to your post talking about how daniel absolutely deserved the wdc shouts he (deservedly) got another interesting tweet the other day was "is prime ric better than what leclrec has shown so far" and while there were (pleasantly) many people agreeing that yes, prime daniel was better, so many people also kept talking about how he couldn't touch leclrec, which goes on to show you recency bias is crazy!

Ah yes I have seen that tweet the other day. I was also pleasantly surprised at the amount of people agreeing that prime Daniel was better. I think one of the replies pointed out that the only thing that Charles has over Daniel is his one-lap pace, which I completely agree with.

I have to admit that I am a pretty new fan, so I cannot objectively say who between Daniel and Charles was better in 2020. But I feel that people rating Charles highly come to a large extent from him beating Seb at Ferrari, but that was a Seb who had been worn down by the years of frustration there while Daniel beat the Seb who was still young and was coming off winning those four championships.

I know Charles fans are going to come at me, but it must be acknowledged that he can sometimes be error-prone (tho admittedly his bad luck rivals Daniel’s), something which Daniel never was at Red Bull. The only glaring bozo moment of Daniel’s at RB that I can think of is him tapping the walls during Q2 in Baku in 2017.

Another comment that I recently saw on twitter was how whenever Daniel sniffs out the possibility of a win, it’s like something comes over him and it’s like nothing can stop him from getting that win. It’s like he’s said, he’s never left a win on the table and I think this is something very few drivers have. I don’t think even certain world champions could pull the wins he did and in the circumstances that he won them in.

The reason why we still get Monza 2021 discourse in big year 2024 is because a) McLaren hasn’t since been able to win another one and b) Daniel had no business winning it for the season he was having. And yet, when he saw the opportunity for that win, it’s almost scary to see that calm focus with which he went after it.

[magewolf-the-artist]

Domestic K-9: The Worst Pokemon Evolutions Ever

Oh boy, time to explore the ramifications of trauma and how it impacts people!

(Note: I do NOT have trauma or PTSD, although I've done a fuck ton of research on the subject for a different story and am applying the things I learned here. If anybody with any kind of trauma or PTSD spots any inaccuracies, please please PLEASE feel free to let me know. I wish to portray these issues with as much care and respect as possible)

So here I've display the three, I guess, stages of these fuckers. Life, the immediate response to, y'know, everything, and how they're holding up now. Except for Rosemary because I'm kind of an asshole to my blorbos. But obviously with Charles and Susan, they are not in any way "fixed" or even "healed" from their trauma, they moreso stabilized and got used to it. And now let's finally get into it!

SUSAN WOODINGS: So in life, Susan was generally closed off except for a select few amount of people and, while she could be snippy, she was actually pretty chill despite always looking like she wants to murder everybody in the general vicinity. Basically she looks a lot meaner than she actually is.

In death though, that's a completely different story. For the first year or so she had an EXPLOSIVE temper and would blow up over the smallest things, like a powder keg kept near sparklers. If the facility had a swear jar and money, she probably could've funded college for Sophie, Edd, AND Molly. She said many hurtful and cruel things to people she was close to (mostly Charles) that she now deeply regrets. It's all water under the bridge at this point but it still sometimes keeps her up at night.

As of the current point in the timeline, she's since calmed down quite a bit. She's less likely to snap over small shit unless it's Bon, to which she will gladly be just as bitchy as she was. She does have bad days though and is generally much more easily irritated and snippy.

CHARLES BROOK: In life, Charles is the ultimate dad. Easy going, friendly, very jokey, admittedly kinda naive, loves his kid. In death... well...

When they first got to the facility, he was an absolute wreck. He had resisted giving into Bon up until the point where he was starting to fade and, absolutely terrified of the idea of being Thanos snapped out of existence, reluctantly possessed the Boozoo animatronic. But even still he deeply regretted that choice. As well as that, he was extremely distraught about leaving his daughter and wife behind, on Lily's birthday no less, and that he was never found. He spent the first several weeks consumed by the intense misery and grief and was incoherent at best and delusional at worst. As previously mentioned, he got it into his head at some point that if he could just break down the walls, he could escape and constantly flung himself into the solid concrete walls. It didn't help that Susan wasn't terribly understanding and had little patience for this.

After a few weeks passed though, he began to stabilize and was generally able to recover a semblance of his goofy, friendly personality. That's not to say the trauma hasn't impact that though; he has to constantly distract himself or else he'll have a full on breakdown and desperately tries to change the topic whenever his death or his family is brought up. He and Susan have also since smoothed things over and Charles holds no resentment towards her now.

ROSEMARY WALTEN: Everyone's favorite sad mom!

So in life, Rose was generally kind, caring, humble, creative, and introverted, although she had come out of her shell since her younger years and was perfectly capable of being social.

But in death... hooooo boy, buckle up chucklefucks, 'cause this is gonna get SAD

As previously mentioned, Rosemary is a mess. Constantly crying, completely drawing into herself, rarely speaks to anybody but Rocket, and is unable to bring herself to do anything outside of draw, think, or cry. She's kinda just frozen in time, unable to stabilize like Charles and Susan, which is why she has no stage 3. The closest thing to that I can confidently say she's gotten is pouring herself into her art and caring for Rocket, but even still it's not much.