#let my drivers do their community service TOGETHER!!!

[slythereen]

if charles gets slapped with community service, i will be extremely disappointed in my marketing goats (rbr socmed admins) if they don’t seize the opportunity presented

[garageofshumii]

tagged by the absolute angel @jusst-you-race, this one's for you <3

Pierre stares at him incredulously. "Let me just get this straight. You, Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, F1's PR princess, purposely swore in a press conference just so you could do community service with Max?" Oscar looks up from where he is sitting on the couch. "I doubt there is anything straight about that." Charles winces and Pierre dissolves into a pile of laughter and French Alpine merchandise. "That's not very necessary. You know, my plan worked! We get to do a special driver stage together this Friday in Brazil and have to answer questions submitted by the fans. I sent you guys the list of questions already, they'll be picked randomly." Pierre gets up from where he was lying on the floor, and turns towards Charles with a serious expression. "Calamar. Your plan was the stupidest thing I've seen since Ferrari's strategy in Hungary 2022, and that's saying something." He smiles more fondly, and pats Charles on the shoulder. "But, I will support you. Even if you are more delusional than your fans." The moment is interrupted by Oscar yelling a question at them. "Charles, did you know that one of the questions is asking you if you swore on purpose?"

low stress tags for the tag game, apologies for any double tags : @unlapped @thearchercore

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p3, is interviewed during the post-qualifying press conference, singapore - september 21, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Lewis, let's come to you. You weren't that positive about your car yesterday after practice. Is P3 a bit of a surprise in qualifying?" Lewis: "I'm not saying it's a surprise, but through the weekend so far we were looking… I was looking particularly very poor. I mean, this morning and all of yesterday we were 1.2 seconds off these guys, so… We arrived with a car that was massively understeer-y and we just couldn't dial any in, no matter what we did just nothing changed. And made changes overnight, came here today, pretty much the same thing, and I was really, definitely shocked to see that we were still 1.2 seconds behind [laughs] Lando again. And then we just kept our heads down, kept not giving up, and we made some more changes, and got into this session and it was like night and day. Such a big difference. Car was all of a sudden alive and I was able to go where I wanted to go. So it was looking really strong throughout qualifying. And I think obviously with the crash in Q3 it made it difficult for all of us to put that final lap together. I think my lap was also nothing special. Very difficult to get the tires perfect and not overslide them; I had a lot of snaps. So I think with a better job maybe we could have been front row with this guy, but I don't know whether or not we could have beaten him today. But still really, really happy." Interviewer: "How rewarding is it? Because you've had some struggles with qualifying. You've been very open about that this year. So does that make this that much more satisfying?" Lewis: "Oh yeah. I mean, just to be up here with these guys, great drivers. I've not been up here for a while. And yeah, qualifying has been a nightmare for quite a long time, so it feels great to be up here. I feel very, very grateful and very, very happy. George and I are on the second row, so hopefully from here we can apply pressure to these two. And to even to be ahead of another McLaren and another Red Bull and also the Ferraris is mega, considering how fast the Ferraris, particularly, are here. So yeah, I hope that we can hold on to these guys tomorrow."

[time jump] NOT SHOWN: Journalist: "Andrew Benson, BBC Sport. One for Max and then one for Lando and Lewis. Max, will you talk to us outside the room? Because technically there's not... Yeah, okay. And then Lando and Lewis, what do you think about Max being given community service, effectively, for what he said on Thursday?" Lewis: "Yeah, I think it's a bit of a joke, to be honest. This is the pinnacle of the sport. Mistakes are made. I certainly wouldn't be doing it, and I hope Max doesn't do it." [time jump] Journalist: "Zuhrah Beevi, Vavel.com. Lewis, your car looked much stronger today than it did on Friday. How confident are you that you can get a podium like last year for tomorrow's race?" Lewis: "It's very hard to say, 'cause it was such a nightmare the past day-and-a-half. I think our long run pace was so-so. Nowhere near these guys, or at least the McLarens. But we have now put the car in a much different window, so we have to also anticipate a different balance tomorrow, compared to the past every other session. And yeah, I think here is really about managing tire temps, so that's gonna have to be key tomorrow. So doing absolutely everything we can to keep the temperatures out of the rears, basically. I hope, in our attempt to do that, we're somehow able to hold on to at least one of these guys. But yeah, we'll find out tomorrow. I feel confident, though, that we might be able to do that." [laughs]

[whispersofalostsoul]

RUNAWAY

Summary: Image if Lando Norris has follen in love for the first time….with a woman that he never thought he could fall for… and when his whole world turns upside down, he finds himself alone…once more...

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(Please leave comments to help me improve my story ! Would also love to hear your opinions ! thank you !)

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Chapter 1 - Encunter --- https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/756913230598815744/runaway?source=share

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Chapter 2 - Belgium

It's been two days since the encounter between Dalia and Lando, and she couldn't shake off the memory of their meeting. Somewhere between fascination and regret, she couldn't help but feel like she may have come off too strong with her emotional opinions. She worried that she might have scared him off, not wanting to be seen as just another crazy fan. But in the end, she realized it didn't matter what he thought of her, since they won't simply meet again. She stared at the blank computer screen in front of her. She knew she had a deadline to meet, and she couldn't afford to let distractions get in the way. Sportsrace, a successful online sports channel, was owned by Olivia Abebe, a 45-year-old Nigerian British entrepreneur. Starting as a journalist, she had worked her way up to owning her own company. The team was small but efficient, with Dalia handling digital content, Henry and Noah taking care of shooting and editing, and Olivia being the face of the channel, conducting interviews and directing. Other services were outsourced to freelance agencies.

Olivia warmly greeted everyone with a "Good morning" before leading the way into the meeting room. As Dalia and Noah joined her, Olivia couldn't help but notice Henry's absence. Concerned, she asked, "Where's Henry?" Dalia quickly explained that he was still on sick leave, a fact that Olivia had overlooked when signing his leave request. Olivia panicked, realizing he was having surgery. "Relax, he'll be fine, it's just an appendix surgery," Noah said nonchalantly. "What are we going to do? We have to cover this weekend's F1 race!" Olivia announced. The two colleagues were stunned by the unexpected news, their eyes widening as they sat up straight in their seats. Their small company had never even dreamed of being able to join the prestigious journalists at an F1 grand prix. Olivia shared that she had received an invitation from the F1 communication department for them to cover the Belgium race weekend. If they performed well, there was a chance for future invitations. As Noah, a huge F1 fan, excitedly jumped around, Dalia couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Lando had a hand in this incredible opportunity. "Alright everyone, let's keep it together", Noah exclaimed with a spark in his eye. "It's all under control. Dalia, you've got the mics covered, and I'll assist you every step of the way. Trust me, we've got this. Right?" Noah's determination was contagious, Dalia couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Great! then I'll take care of everything else" he continued.  Little did she know, she was about to see Lando again sooner than she expected.

As the sun rose on Thursday morning, the small team assembled at the paddock entrance, ready to begin their day. Noah handed out cameras to Olivia and Dalia, assigning them to cover different entrances to capture the arrival of the drivers. Dalia made her way to the other door, passing by the Mclaren hospitality area. She quickened her pace, hoping to avoid a certain someone she didn't want to run into. Upon reaching the rear entrance, Dalia encountered two journalists eagerly waiting. One of them graciously offered to help her adjust the camera settings. Engaging in a friendly chat with them, Dalia was able to momentarily forget about the cold morning and instead enjoy the chance to interact with new individuals and hear about their adventures in the dynamic realm of motorsport.

In just a few minutes, someone caught the attention of a journalist who excitedly exclaimed, "Look, there's one!" as he prepared his camera. From afar, she spotted a bright red top and a group of fans trailing behind, signaling the arrival of one of the Ferrari drivers. Quickly raising her camera, she began snapping photos as the driver approached. It was Carlos Sainz, and he appeared to be in a rush. As a bigginner photographer, she made the mistake of not moving out of his way, resulting in a slight collision. "I am so sorry," they both exclaimed in surprise. The camera knocked against her upper nose, causing her to instinctively reach up to massage it. "Are you okay?" he inquired, pointing to her nose. "Yes, I'm fine, don't worry," she assured him with a wide smile before allowing him to continue on his way. He cast one final concerned glance at her before hurriedly making his way towards the hospitalities, followed by a crowd of fans. While carefully inspecting the camera to ensure its safety, she spotted a wallet lying on the ground. Upon picking it up, she discovered Carlos' driver's pas. Their collision might have caused the item to fall from his back pocket. Dalia found herself in a dilemma, torn between returning Carlos Sainz's lost wallet or missing out on other drivers' arrival. After a moment of uncertainty, she decided to follow her conscience and chased after the crowd. As she caught sight of his distinctive red shirt disappearing into the hospitality area, she realized he was heading towards the McLaren building - a place she had been intentionally avoiding all morning.

The lack of security at the hospitality was surprising, with no bodyguards or staff at the entrance to monitor who entered. It was almost too easy to walk in. Perhaps her media badge gave her an air of legitimacy. As she wandered through the empty corridor, she couldn't help but question if this was normal. Shouldn't there be a bustling cafeteria or lounge? Lost in thought, she was startled by a stern voice behind her, "You're not authorized to be here," she turned around to face the intense gaze of none other than Oscar Piastri. His eyes, half-closed and intimidating, slowly shifted down to her badge before meeting her gaze once more. "This area is strictly for drivers," he stated with a dry, cold tone. Dalia suddenly realized she had wandered into the drivers' rooms area. "I apologize, I must have lost my way," she said, feeling her face flush. It was a dangerous place to be, especially when trying to avoid Lando. "Here," she pushed the wallet towards Oscar, who stood unfazed. "Carlos lost his wallet, and I wanted to return it after seeing him walk through here." "Hmm, yes, he must be in Lando's room," Oscar explained, gesturing towards the door behind her. A cold sweat ran through her body at the thought of him being so close. She reached for Oscar's hand, placed the wallet in it, and hurried back towards the exit.

After a couple of moments of navigating through the building, Dalia discovered the cafeteria, bringing a sense of relief. She confidently approached the counter and requested a refreshing cold cup of tea to calm her nerves. Finding an unoccupied table, she settled in with a sigh of relief. After a brief moment of composing herself, Oscar approached Dalia and sat beside her, catching her off guard. "I wanted to apologize," he confessed, fiddling with the wallet. "I realized I may have been a bit too harsh earlier, and you were just trying to help." He spoke without making eye contact. Dalia paused to process his words, then timidly reached out to pat his shoulder with a smile, showing her acceptance of his apology. "Have you not handed him the wallet yet?" she glanced at his hand. Oscar hesitated for a moment before replying, " Carlos is with him, didn't want to disturb." Oscar's voice was soft as he continued to look down at the wallet, almost as if he was concealing his emotions. However, Dalia could sense it. The tension between the two teammates may still exist, but from her last encounter with Lando, she could tell that Oscar genuinely cares about him. He's making an effort to connect, but he's afraid of how Lando might react. "well" She hesitated before speaking, realizing she was delving into a topic she had been avoiding. "You have a better understanding of Lando than I do," she said, meeting his gaze. "The incident during the last Grand Prix wasn't his fault, or yours. He knows that. I believe he will eventually move past it... He just needs some time to come to terms with everything," Dalia tried to present a neutral perspective. "So, do you think I should put in more effort?" he asked, with curiosity and innocence, revealing a side of him that contradicted his cold intimidating public persona. It was a rare glimpse of his socially awkward side, showing genuine concern for his teammate. She smiled in response, and he reciprocated the gesture. "Okay, Miss Dalia," he declared as he got up. "I'll go take my chances. And if he ever feels like punching me, I'll make sure to blame you for it," he teased before making his way to the rooms section.

The two practice sessions were a success, with Lando setting the fastest time and Carlos and Oscar close behind. Dalia had the opportunity to capture photos and videos for their online pages, as well as conduct brief interviews with celebrities and staff, all with Noah's guidance. She was truly enjoying herself and felt reinvigorated in her chosen profession. After a long day of work, the team gathered at a coffee shop near the Ferrari Hospitality to have a very late lunch. "I have some great news for you all," Olivia announced excitedly after taking a bite of her ridiculously overpriced chicken sandwich. "I've secured an interview with the McLaren drivers." As Dalia listened, her heart started racing. "We'll be interviewing Lando and Oscar in about two hours, so I need everyone to be prepared." The rest of lunch was spent coordinating and organizing, and Dalia barely ate anything as she became increasingly nervous with each passing minute. 

By 7 pm, the team had already settled into a private room within the Mclaren building, diligently setting up for the interview under Noah's direction. Dalia expertly adjusted the lights and arranged the microphones. Suddenly, a group of Mclaren staff entered, with Olivia in tow, causing Dalia's nerves to resurface. Despite her anxiety, she composed herself, took a deep breath, and stood confidently next to Noah, warmly greeting everyone. Oscar was the first to arrive, flashing her a charming smile as he walked past. Soon after, the man who had been on her mind for days entered the room. His presence was magnetic, drawing everyone's attention towards him. With his suit hanging on his hips, messy hair, and a black bottle in hand, he exuded an air of confidence. His eyes met hers with a knowing look, as if he had anticipated her exact location. Casually greeting Olivia and Noah, he finally stood in front of Dalia, offering a simple "Hi" accompanied by a playful smile. 

Dalia's heart raced as she felt the tension in the room rising, why was he affecting her like this? Summoning her courage, she stole a glance and found his gaze locked on her, just like the first time they met. With a deep breath, she finally reached for the microphones and made her way towards the two drivers. Choosing to start with Lando, she stood before him with a smile, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for his shirt collar. "May I...may I put the mic on the hem of your shirt?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, you may," he replied with a chuckle in his usual playful tone. " I want to thank you " Dalia expressed, breaking the silence. "I believe you played a role in our media invitation." She glanced up to see a warm smile on his face. He simply nodded in acknowledgment of her appreciation. "So, where are you staying?" His question caught her off guard, causing her thoughts to race. She felt her heart pounding and did her best not to show her flustered state. "We...we booked an Airbnb not too far from the track," she nervously replied. "Well...I would like to invite you for dinner," he added with a smile. "As a token of gratitude for that delicious carrot cake you brought me last time." He smiled, closing the distance slightly. Dalia was visibly embarrassed and couldn't find the words to respond. After finishing fixing his mic and preparing to move on to Oscar, he whispered softly for her ears only, "I'll text you." But how could he? He didn't even have her number. Then again, if he could arrange an invitation to an F1 grand prix for her company, she was certain he could easily obtain her contact information.

"So ,I see you didn't get punched eventually" Dalia teased, a sense of relief evident in her posture. "You're lucky I didn't," Oscar replied with a warm smile, "But it looks like you weren't as fortunate." He reached out to gently touch the top of her nose, concern in his eyes. "It's from earlier when I accidentally bumped into Carlos with my camera. Is it red?" Dalia inquired, unfazed by his touch. "Yes, slightly," he replied softly, brushing his finger over her nose. "Ice will help prevent any further swelling. Trust me, I'm an expert in ice baths," he quipped, eliciting a small laugh from Dalia. As she turned to resume her position behind the camera, she couldn't resist stealing a glance at Lando, who was now giving them a dark, mysterious look. Taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, Dalia quickly returned to Noah's side and signaled for Olivia to begin her interview.

By the time they returned to the rented flat, they were all completely drained. Luckily, the place had two showers, so they didn't have to wait for their turn. When Noah suggested ordering food, Dalia's phone buzzed with a notification. "Hey, It's Lando," she read the message that appeared on the screen.

D: Hi lando how are you ?

L: I'm good, so when can I come by to pick you up ?

He appeared eager to skip the small talk. Dalia quickly reassessed her feelings about the situation before picking up the phone to respond.

D: 10 pm sounds good, However I have one condition.

L: ??

D: Let's forget the fancy restaurant, and go somewhere more casual. And please don't come picking me up with a fancy car. Something discreet will be nice.

L: Oh I get it now. You don't want to be seen with me.

D: I'm sorry but I can't afford to risk my job.

He stayed silent for a bit, before he started tying again.

L: I'll come pick you up in 20 mins. See yah.

[seat-safety-switch]

Recently, a child asked me why an old Toyota was making a horrible noise. It was part of my community service, cleaning up after a group of disadvantaged children. Originally, I thought it was just that they were poor, but after this interaction I realized that they (the kids) were also stupid. That sound? An exhaust backfire from poorly clocked ignition timing.

I mean, sure, there were obviously lots of other problems too. Vacuum leaks, a clogged-up throttle body, and what I suspected was just a hint of worn-out, rattling heat shield. It all came together in an incredibly loud melange of 1980s car adversity. This poor, late-80s Tercel was suffering, ready to be lowered into the grave but still fighting on past all odds, a testament to the survival instinct shared solely by high-mileage import automobiles.

You’re probably out there going, I bet this asshole is going to try and fix up a total stranger’s car just to demonstrate to the children the importance of doing basic maintenance. Nothing doing, bud: the directions on my court order were incredibly narrow and specifically indicated that I shouldn’t teach the kids about any sort of internal combustion engine, much less old two-door economy cars. Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t bring in consultants. Guest speakers, if you will. Enter Shaky Tim, my painter “friend” from a few years back.

Tim had ingested virtually every solvent known to man during the course of his long career, and as a result had developed what the medical journals called “a superhuman ability” to sense the specific concentration of gases in an area. He was basically a human mass spectrometer, except that he didn’t cost thousands of dollars, and he’d piss his pants if there was too much ethanol in the mix. Shaky Tim went over to the driver, who was letting the thing idle while he checked his smartphone (presumably with some kind of hookup app meant for poorly-maintained engines to find a sexy mechanic in their area,) and Shaky Tim helped him adjust his distributor.

Before we go any further, I think it is important to note two more facts about my friend Tim. One: he can no longer speak the Queen’s English, as it was taken from him by what his whiteboard scrawls indicate may have been some kind of Varsol-sponsored leprechaun. Two: his customer-service skills leave much to be desired. As the terrified children watched on, Tim pried the hood-release cable out through the fender liner, popped the hood, and loosened the distributor cap tie-down bolt with his bare hands. Then he pinched off a vacuum line while sniffing around the exhaust header leak, and, using his unearthly sense of smell, slowly wiggled the thing into perfect running condition, the ignition system now humming in the mathematical ideal.

I like to think the kids learned a lot from Shaky Tim, and maybe they accidentally learned something else from me. It’s better to have your burned-out druggie friend get into a fight with a random Tercel owner than to get into that very same fight yourself. I hear Tim’s gonna have that thing painted any day now, as soon as he remembers where his paint shop is.

[lolitastories]

Helpless

Description: She worked as a lawyer in New York until she received a phone call from the man she owes her career to. She knew she would be back and what she was in for but what she didn’t know is that her life would change even more than she imagined.

Chapter 10

Chapter 9:

The trial took longer than expected. That asshole thought he could get away with threats and lost. Got on the list of sex offenders and after serving 3 years in jail he will have probation. Community service for a year. I avoided my parents and everybody else I didn’t have to see for the 2 weeks I was there. Beth went home for the holidays after the 3rd night. I was currently at the entrance of the ranch. “You can drop me off here” The driver nods as I get out of the car and take out my luggage.

“Have a good day miss'' I wave back waiting for him to drive off. I start my walk down the long road. There is no noise even this far away from the house, and that's not a good thing. The cold is freezing my fingertips as they are the only part except my face that is not covered by multiple layers. New years have gone by and it's the 5th day of the month and a new beginning for me. I haven’t left it all behind yet but it's a good start. The people in town know what happened now. The idiot got what he deserved but most importanly my parents got to know how wrong they were and even if I didn’t get to see their reaction it felt good.

“Want a ride home!?” I look at the distance and see Rip riding up.

“I am never getting on a horse again” Thankfully I had sneakers on because there was no way I was walking down the long dirt/gravel road with heels. I continued walking as Rip got off his horse and took him by the reign to walk beside me.

“Why the long face?” I looked over confused but quickly shook it off.

“I had a long couple of days” Something about walking in the cold air clears your mind.

“Tell me about it” He huffs. “You are going to have a list of chores to do when you get back home” Oh fuck. “Jaime, John, Beth, all the Duttons, even Kayce” He turns to look at me for a split second. “They all need family therapy” I chuckle a bit.

“You ain’t telling me something I ain’t already know.” Rip sighs as we get infront of the house. “Can I ask you something?” I turn to him, letting go of my suitcase. He nods so I continue with my question. “Are you and Beth okay?” Before the trip I knew they were spending more time together but knowing Beth this has been an ongoing thing. She tries to make it work but along the way she makes herself take a step back and shield herself again.

“We are working on it. I waited this long and I will keep on waiting as long as she needs” I knew Rip was a good guy even with the character everybody thinks of him as.

“Well. Let me go inside before I freeze to death out here” I tell him goodbye before heading inside.

“Well look who's back” It wasn’t so early in the morning when I arrived so I was suprised to see John. “Had some family fun time during the holidays” I held my dead stare on him.

“Being funny isn’t good for you” He chuckles a bit, offering me a cup of coffee. “Sorry I didn’t answer these past few day”

“Don’t worry about it but now that you are back I have a list for you” oh I heard. I nod my head taking a sip of the coffee. “I need you to go see the livestock commissioner” Before the word why could slip out he got a phone call. “Beth left the paperwork on your bed” He leaves out the door. It feels good to be back. Somehow this kind of work, although it can be stressful, is what I strive for most. I took a long needed shower and got dressed to head out. I grab the paperwork and head down to see the livestock agents. I always laugh when I hear about them. Like I know their jobs are serious and all but come on, livestock AGENT?. It's like Bond being recruited to take care of sheeps.

“What did I do to behold such a sight?” I shake my head walking through the doors as Ryan holds the door open.

“Nice to see you too Ryan” I say hello to the rest of the guys in the room before turning to the secretary.

“Mr Dutton called and said you were coming.” She gets up and leads me down the hall. “He just came from the meeting so I didn’t get a chance to notify him” I gave her a sympathetic look.

“Don’t worry, Jaime is used to not planning things” quick hot head he is. I smile before opening the door. I stop dead in my tracks. I should have knocked. Knocking so I would have heard who was inside and it would have given me a chance to figure things out before coming in or just bolt out of this place.

“Mr Duton, Miss l/N” I think her name was Jenny. Thank you Jenny.

“Thank you” Kayce stands up as my legs feel like jello walking over to the chair infront of his desk. The room wasn’t warm. It stayed on the cool side but my body felt like it was burning. “Hey”

“Hey” I sighed. The air felt thick and my lungs couldn’t grasp enough of it. “I need you to sign a couple of things” I pull out the file and slide it towards him.

“Do you want something to drink?” Something to eat sounds better. Coming here with on coffee in the stomach wasn’t the best choice.

“No.” That sounded a little too harsh damn it. “Thank you” I stand up walking closer to the desk to open the file. “Everything you need to sign is marked but on one page you need to place your imprint” I flip it to make sure he knows which page it is. I remove myself from leaning in as nerves run down my body seeing him from my side view that he got up.

“Y/n?” It was a whisper but enough for me to hear. I look up and see him walk around to the desk towards me. Am not nervous because anything that happened between us came to mind but because he somehow makes me feel little. Not in a bad way eitheir, like I don’t need to be something am not with him beside me. I take a step back.

“Kayce we need to talk but I don’t think this is the time or place” I put my hand up defincisbly. I don’t know what was going on. My body wanted to tremble and for some reason my eyes were feeling up with tears. My cheeks were burning and all I wanted to do was crawl into a corner until I could think again.

“Y/n?”

“What?” I finally find his eyes again and he is just a couple steps away from me giving me the space I needed.

“Are you okay?” That's when I lost it. All the emotion I was holding in slipped out and rolled down my cheek. First one tear and then a couple more. I bit my lip trying to hold in the sorrows that wanted to leave. “y/n?” I shake my head back away again.

“Just give me a minute. I just need a minute” I close my eyes, wrapping myself in my arms trying to hold it together. This happened once when I was 15. I was at a party and all the emotion evaded me. For the remaining of it I locked myself in the bathroom and cried to the tunes of the songs. No one came to check on me and when I finally got out nobody knew why I was crying and I felt like a baggage to them. I locked myself in my room and screamed my lungs out until I didn’t have any energy left in me. I promised myself if it ever happened again I wouldn’t let it overtake me again. I felt him wrap his arms around me and pull me closer.

“You need to let it go. You have been holding on to so much and I promise you it gets better when you let go” He whispers. And I don’t know what happened. Everything that was slipping out my mouth

“It's not fair” I let out a cry. Gripping on to his jacket. “It's not fair how they can just continue their lives without me! I saw them before I left, I was going to go up to them and let them see me but I didn’t want to give them even that. I always had a little feeling inside that they would come find me one day and apologise and maybe something would go back to normal. Why do they get to pretend to be a happy family when it's not complete? Was I the problem the whole time? When I was with them they couldn’t stand eachother, maybe I needed to leave so they could be happy. But why do they get to be happy and I got the worse part out of it? Why don’t I have a happy family? Maybe it didn’t affect me before because I had someone on the line if they found out the truth and having the feeling of them owing me an apology in the future made it better. Was that too selfish? Am I too selfish to want that? Should I have just told the truth? Maybe I didn’t do it because I cared for my cousin so much but because I wanted to embarrass them in the end. Because if I did everything right then why am I the one hurting at the end?” Then everything stopped. The tears, the cries, the tight hold I had on Kayce as he was still holding me. I took a deep breath and pulled away from him.

“y/n?” I look at him wiping away my tears. “I think you deserve a loving family and I know one day you will build that. I don’t know the whole thing but I know that she was grateful she didn’t have to do it alone”

“Ok” I smile, rubbing my hands on my thighs trying to get the nerves out. “That was enough for today” I hear him chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing” He shakes his head. He walks closer to me enough to feel his body heat. “I know right now is not the time and place after all of that” I roll my eyes at his comment. “How about dinner?” Is he crazy?

“Kayce” I warned, shaking my head. I wanted nothing more than to leave right now.

“Listen. We need to talk about everything that happened, I don’t know about you but it wasn’t just to let steem out” He says defensibly.

“Ok” Before walking toward his desk he grabs my upper arm pulling me towards him. His other hand slides up to my cheek making me look at him. “What?” The grin I had was there although I was trying to hide it.

“Nothing,” He whispers, moving closer.

“Make sure those papers get signed so you can give them to me later” He smiles and nods. “Am serious” I was getting aggravated due to the fact he had a stupid smile on his face and his stare was making me blush. I hit his chest puting some distance but I was only pushed back in again and into a kiss. I couldn’t hold back and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His kiss was slowly and every promise of air was long gone. I didn’t mine. I just wanted him. Both hands slide down to my hip holding me steady and close.

“7?” He says as he pulls away. My eyes still closed, I nod my head. He pecks my lips. “Anything specific?” I shake my head still with a stupid smile on my face. “Have a curfew?” That made my eyes roll again.

“No sir I do not” I slide my hands down his chest pushing away from him. “Don’t be late”

“Yes ma’am” he smiles as I open the door to leave. I turn around once more.

“Don’t forget the paperwork”

“Yes ma’am” I stayed there for a minute watching him take a seat behind his desk. He may not have wanted this job as commissioner but he sure does look doing it.

[wabatle]

HOOOOOY! :D I'm so glad when I see people doing BLLK matchups lol. So I'd love to request one please. I will follow the steps in your post. ❀~ fandom: blue lock.

❀~ gender: he/him.

❀~ preference: male character.

❀~ personality: funny; laid back; curious; can appear mean but I just love to tease people and joking around; love to explore and eating; analytical; good general knowledge; independent; ambitious; need to understand things; don't like when things don't go the way I'd like; not very communicative outside and people may think I don't feel anything but that's not true; people told me I can have a lack of empathy; blunt and sometimes bossy; I don't like clingy people and those who speak endlessly; I love to dig an interesting subject in depht even if I miss some sleep hours; individualistic, creative.

❀~ hobbies: writing; traveling; going out with friends and eating out with them; cooking (meat-based courses and desserts like tiramisu or brownies); gardening for meditation; playing with my cat.

❀~ things that make you feel negative: the rain; public transport cancelled when I have something planned that depend on them; slow drivers; when I fail at something, being bored; people that don't consider my efforts or qualities; those who complain but don't help themselves or ignore the advices I give to them.

❀~ things that make you feel positive: the sun; spring and summer; laughing; long car journeys; the beach, the forest and the mountain; eating new things; meet new, funny or interesting people; doing thrilling projects and have an impact on things and people; when people need me or want me to be with them for an activity.

❀~ love languages: act of service (giving); physical contact (receiving). I usually am the one who people do things for but it's the reverse if I sincerely love the person. For physical contact it's pretty the same, I can touch others without a warning but hate being touched. However, I let people I feel comfortable with touch me.

❀~ anyone you don't want to be matched up with: characters who didn't reach the Neo Egoist League.

❀~ let me know if you would rather me post your ask with my answer or just tag you: you can post with my info. Thank you very much and congrats! I don't know you yet but I love to discover new blogs.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — @tigreblvnc's Blue Lock matchup~!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: Thank you so much!! Ngl I was a little stumped... But I think I got a good result! <3

𓆩⚝𓆪 — I think your Blue Lock soulmate is...

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Michael Kaiser!

Here me out, it's sort of just a gut feeling, it kinda just... came to me?

He would like to help you research things but if he notices it's getting really late he'll just be like "shut the fuck up and go to bed."

I feel like you're the "um akthually 🤓☝️" of couples 💀. Combined you two are so smart. You both have so much knowledge stored.

You have a shared need to understand things, so you'll look into things together.

Such a cheesy trope but he's the type of guy to offer you his umbrella because he knows you don't like the rain. Depending on the day he'll tease you about it.

I think you would go to the beach together, and for some reason it reminds me of Gojo and Riko at the beach. Idk why he just gives those vibes I guess.

You would have cats and dogs. I think he'd tell you he doesn't want a cat but then once you get one he gets attached.

He loves to eat your cooking. It's probably just the fact that you made it, bit either way, he'll eat it.

Kaiser would also like to travel with you. He likes to see you enjoying yourself.

He understands why you could feel unhappy when you fail at something. Though he might not be the best at comforting, he'll at least try to assure you that you're more than your failures.

I hope you liked it! I'm worried Kaiser is ooc (oops), and I won't lie, I was a little stumped at first. I'm sorry it took so long and I hope you enjoyed it!

[cruzzramirez]

Day 4 - Crack!ship AU

Pit Stop Cars (2006)

Montgomery ‘Lightning’ McQueen/Bessie Ramirez, Emily Ramirez, Other Swynlake Town Residents, Fix-It, Alternate Universe, Hate at First Sight, Small Town Setting, Forced to Work Together, No Beta We Die Like Me, Basically A Cars (2006) Rewrite

“Aw man! You’re letting him work with Bessie?” said the local mechanic and tow truck driver. Accent thick, smile crooked as he glanced between the lawyer and defendant. “I’d give my left leg to do that.” 

“Bessie?” scoffed the defendant, handcuffs clanging against the table. “Who’s Bessie?” 

“Bessie Ramirez meet uhh…now what was your name again?” asked the mechanic. 

“Lightning McQueen,” came the grumbled reply from the man slumped over in the seat next to him. Bessie sat behind her desk opposite the pair of them. She blinked at the American accent. It wasn’t something completely unheard of in this town, but it was interesting to her. 

“Oh right! Knew it was something fancy like that. Okay! Bessie meet Mr. McQueen here, Mr. McQueen meet Bessie. She’ll be supervising you as you fix Main Street as your community service for tearing it up in the first place.” 

Bessie smiled at Matthew and then to Mr. McQueen. “Hello, it’s-” 

“How long is this going to take?” McQueen said. Bessie’s smile dropped in an instant. 

Ah. So this was going to be one of those jobs. Alright then. She gave herself a moment to mentally prepare herself. 

“Well, seeing as you pretty much carved a canyon down the whole stretch, it’ll probably take us about….five days.”

“Five days!” McQueen exclaimed, body straightening up in his seat, no longer bunched up in the corner trying to push himself as far away as possible. He was leaning forward, eyes wide,  “No! No, I need to be in London right now! You can’t keep me here! I need to get on a plane so I can get back to California-”

“Well if you want to get to London so bad, then quit complaining and start working,” Bessie said, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to start arguing. When he didn’t she nodded, satisfied with this, and then stood and turned to Matthew. “Alright, I’ve got it from here.”

“Good luck, Bessie,” he smiled and winked at her as he stood, too.  She wrinkled her nose at him. 

“You coming over for tea tomorrow?” she asked as she escorted him to the door. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he said and then left her alone with this…Lightning McQueen character. He had gone back to sitting in his chair like he was a secondary student in the headmaster’s office. Bessie turned to assess him again with his bad first impression under her belt. He was wearing what she assumed used to be a bright red track suit. It was dirty now, the white stripes that ran up the side of his legs and down the sides of his arms were tinted brown. The cuffs of the sleeves were fraying, the right one torn pretty bad as his hand was bandaged up. His face seemed to know nothing but the glare he had been wearing since he was escorted into her office, and it had dirt on it, too. And his shoes looked like he’d been running for miles in them. 

“So,” she started, leaning back against her desk, “all that racquet last night that had the whole town waking up, I take it that was you?” 

He shrugged, not looking at her. 

“Right. Okay then,” she stood. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Bessie went home after her day from hell and fell face first onto the sofa, the cushions bouncing her slightly. She groaned into the pillow she pushed her face into. At the feeling of being able to let her real emotions out, she reached up to grip the pillow tightly with one hand and then start slamming her first into it with the other. 

“Bessie?” came the sound of her mother’s voice making her jerk her head up. The woman was looking at her with amusement. “What are you doing?” 

Bessie sighed, pushing herself up to sit properly against the back of the couch. 

“Bad day?” her mother asked, coming to sit down next to her. 

“The worst!” Bessie exploded, having to stand up and pace with all the frustration that was inside of her. “I got stuck with this-this-! This complete narcissist of a man. He’s the one that made Main Street look like it does right now, and for his punishment the Board decided they were going to make him fix it. Instead, all they’re doing is making me suffer for it by babysitting this arsehole.” 

She made another noise of frustration, fingers curling tight against her palms. 

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry,” said her mother. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Forever!” she cried, arms gesturing wildly. “Because he’s an idiot! I could have told him everything we needed to do today and he could have gotten the first stretch done, but noooo! No, he wanted to try to escape. As if he wouldn’t have gotten arrested anyway for using magic outside of the town limits. It took, like, three hours for him to go get lost in Enchantra and the police to go fish him out before he got himself killed. Ugh, if only.” 

“Bessie!” 

She winced at that tone and stopped her pacing to sigh heavily, rubbing a hand at her forehead. Bessie walked back over to the sofa to sit back down. “Sorry. I didn’t actually mean that. I’m just…he’s just so annoying! All he’s concerned about is getting to America for some stupid race.”

“Race?” 

“Yeah. You know about the Magick Grand Prix?” 

Her mother frowned for a moment before a minute amount of recognition passed over her face. “Isn’t that what you used to watch in university?” 

“Yes. George had tried out and made it, remember?” 

“Ah! Yes! That’s right, that’s right.” 

“Anyway,” Bessie sighed, pulling that pillow she’d been abusing before into her lap to hug for comfort. It formed against her perfectly, the soft fabric soothing as her fingers ran across the back of it. “I guess this last race he’s done was a tie between him and two other blokes, so they’re having a final race in London next week.”

“How did he wind up here, then?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Bessie shook her head and then leaned back. “I just want him gone.” 

Her mother chuckled at her before pulling her into her arms. Bessie rested her head against her mother’s shoulder, letting her soothe a hand over her hair. She may have been a fully grown woman at this point, but this was still one of the greatest comforts she’d ever known. Slowly, she felt her anger and frustration melt out of her. 

“It’ll be alright, dear,” said her mum. “You’ll get through this. Once he’s done his time, he’ll be on his way and you’ll never have to see him again.” 

Bessie snorted, looking up at her mum. “I sure hope so.” 

The second day was worse than the first actually, because she had to spend the whole time around Lightning McQueen whereas yesterday, at least he’d given her that grace period for the three hours he’d disappeared into Enchantra. Today the imbecile decided that he didn’t need to listen to any of Bessie’s instructions! No! Because she hadn’t been doing this for years now! All the roads in Swynlake didn’t look as nice as they did because of her! The sidewalks weren’t smooth and well put in because of her! Not! At! All! 

Instead he’d taken matters into his own stupid hands and decided to do the whole road using his magic to get it done. Bessie had almost, almost, thought to be impressed when he’d come running to tell her that he had finished already. He’d been sweating and panting, looking like he had actually put in effort. But, after only the slim time she’d had to know him, she hadn’t let her hopes get up too high. 

And what a good thing, too. She stared, horrified at the road he presented her with. 

“No need to thank me,” he grinned, still breathing a little heavy. “Just have to let the people in charge know and I’ll be on my way.” 

The road was, if anything, worse than it was before. Now instead of a giant cavern of zig-zag seperating the concrete, the asphalt on top was creating the opposite effect. It was bumpy and rough, uneven in every way imaginable. Even some of the original damage was still visible, barely filled in. 

“It looks awful!” she said. 

“Well,” he shrugged. “It just matches the rest of the town.” 

Bessie snapped. 

She was known around town for being a very composed individual. Nice and lovely, someone that people could come to for a level headed answer. She was a very reasonable person. After all, she was the daughter of Emily Ramirez, who had been wise from a young age and had only gotten that much more as she had grown older. 

On that day, her reputation may have taken a beating from everyone hearing her go off on this man in the middle of town. But she couldn’t help it. He’d insulted her hometown, the place that had raised her and so many others, that offered protection for those that were othered by the whole country. 

After she had finished yelling at him and had him cowering under her glare, she finished with, “You are going to tear this up and you are going to start all over!” 

“What!” 

“Did I stutter?” she asked and he had the good grace to not try to start an argument. “I’ll bring you the tools you need. And because you decided to waste the whole day, I guess we’ll have to go into the night with this.” 

She heard him groan as she turned on her heel. 

Into the night they did go, as it had taken him all afternoon and evening to tear up the heinous shit he had thought would be his ticket out of town. She had to set up the lights while he was doing that, listening to him cry and complain to himself as he went. And if she’d thought that was bad, having to hear him just plain go mental that night had…well, actually it had been pretty entertaining. As much as she had wanted to go home, watching him take his anger out like this was like some sort of weird vindication for her. Knowing that he was suffering as much as she was, if not that much more. 

At one point she had called his name and he turned too fast and slipped, falling on his ass into a leftover puddle from the rain that had briefly fallen the day before, and she couldn’t help but to laugh. 

“Oh, you think this is funny, Bessie?” he had yelled, the sound of it echoing off the shoppe fronts. 

Bessie had smiled in the face of his glare and shrugged. “Yeah, actually. It’s pretty funny.” 

At around 11 o’clock, when his yelling had settled down, his movements got more sluggish, and they’d run out of asphalt, she’d told him it was time to call it quits. The stretch of road he had managed to get done, and done properly, had turned out…incredibly well. It was smooth and sleek, she knew just by looking at it that it would dry to near perfection. 

They’d locked up all the equipment and turned off the lights. She was supposed to walk him back to the hotel, where he was staying while being here, when she heard his stomach growl. 

He frowned at her, because she’d been staring, and self consciously went to defend himself, “I haven’t eaten in-!”

“No, I- I know, I know. That’s my fault,” she said and really did feel bad. She hadn’t even thought about it, too pissed off about the whole thing to remember that he was still a person. Despite believing himself to be a god, he did need all the basic things that everyone else did. Like food. She hadn’t eaten either. “Come on.” 

“...but the hotel is that way,” Lightning said, pointing. 

“I know,” she rolled her eyes, not stopping. “I’ve lived here my whole life.” 

She felt a woosh of air hit against her back and then he was suddenly walking right beside her. “Then where are you going?”

“You’re hungry, right?” she asked. He nodded. “Well I am, too. So, unless you want to go back and live off of the complimentary chocolate they leave on your pillow, then you can come with me to get something to eat.” 

He allowed them to walk in silence the rest of the way to Chippamunka’s, which was always the answer to any late night cravings. She ushered him inside, telling him to have a seat in one of the booths while she went to go greet the waitress that was on shift up at the counter. 

“Bessie!” 

“Hi Helen,” she smiled, leaning her elbows onto the counter’s surface. “How’re you tonight?” 

“By the looks of it, better than you,” said the waitress. She was an older woman, older than Bessie’s mum, even. The rumors went that she worked the night shift at Chippamunka’s just because she wanted to. She was supposed to be retired but got bored of that and picked up a job simply because she could, not because she needed to. She had been there ever since Bessie had been a kid, always a comforting presence to find in the dead of the night when she had been in need of a pick me up. Especially when she’d still been going to university, which had only been last year. 

The older woman’s eyes shifted to the other party in the diner. Bessie turned to look, too. 

Lightning McQueen had a menu between his hands, reading over it with interest. He was still in that same red track suit, which looked very worse for wear now. Below, his leg was jostling rapidly. The two woman turned back to look at one another.

“I heard you really gave it to him earlier today,” Helen said, raising an eyebrow and Bessie hid her face in her hands. 

“I don’t even remember,” she said, dragging her fingers down until they were pressing into her cheeks. “I blacked out, I was just so angry.” 

“He a handful?”

“More than,” Bessie sighed. 

“Well,” Helen said, leaning forward to peer around Bessie again. She assessed the man again, then tilted her head a little, eyes softening, “at least he’s nice to look at.” 

That made Bessie bark out a laugh. She reached forward, patting Helen’s arm. 

She returned to the table with two waters, sliding one across to McQueen. He caught it and picked it up, downing it all until the ice was pushing toward him and hitting him in the nose. McQueen slammed the cup down, wiping this mouth with the back of his grimy sleeve. 

“Thanks,” he said, leaning back. Bessie merely nodded, reaching for a straw to unwrap and stab into her water. She took a few sips before thinking to ask, “Do you know what you want?” 

When Helen came around, McQueen had pretty much ordered half the menu. Bessie had thought he was just being dramatic, but had been baffled to watch as he cleaned every plate that was brought out to him. 

“Wow,” she blinked when he had finished off a stack of pancakes. “You were really hungry.” 

“High metabolism,” he said. “From the magic.” 

“Right,” she nodded.

The walk across town to the hotel felt…awkward. At least to Bessie. Glancing over at McQueen, he seemed perfectly content. Or maybe he was just very tired. But that was why she felt awkward about this whole thing, because now she had seen this. Seen him get tired and be hungry and smile at Helen and thank her every time she brought him something and be polite. She had seen him be quiet. Be...a person, not just the hot shot persona he put forward all the time or the angry, slighted victim that demanded he be listened to. 

Now she felt guilty for everything she had said today and for making him work all that time without a break. And, now, for not apologizing for any of it. 

She didn’t want to, was the main thing, too scared that if she did admit fault to anything that he would use it like ammunition when he was himself again. Because she didn’t know which one was the actual Lightning McQueen. 

“Alright,” she said, as they approached the hotel. “See you tomorrow.” 

Bessie turned to leave. 

“Wait!” he said, making her stop and turn to look at him. His eyes were moving to look around them. She frowned. “You’re…you’re going to walk home alone?”

“Yes.” 

“In the dark?”

“I mean…yeah,” she said, wondering why he was pointing out the obvious but acting like it was all very- oh. Oh. Bessie pressed a smile to her face. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She turned around and started walking again, “I’ve lived here my whole life, I’m pretty sure!” 

Her mother was sitting in the kitchen, a pair of steaming mugs sitting on the table. Bessie joined her without saying anything, just sinking into the seat and kicking off her shoes before reaching for the mug her mum was pushing toward her. 

“How’d it go today?” 

“Terrible,” Bessie sighed. She took a sip of tea. “But the last few hours…were better.” 

“Oh?” 

Bessie nodded. Then shrugged, “We’ll see how tomorrow goes.” 

And tomorrow went about as well as the last few hours of the previous night. At least now McQueen seemed to understand there was no work around to the situation he had gotten himself into. No one was going to help him, he had to help himself, and to do that he was going to have to fix the road that he broke, and do it correctly. 

Bessie helped when she was needed, leveling and bringing more asphalt when it was necessary. She moved the cones to block off the road the more he moved down it, and opened up the part that had finished settling. She had been right, it turned out beautifully, almost too much, since it made the portion right next to it, that wasn’t bad at all and didn’t really need fixing, look like it did. 

At the height of the day, when the sun was peering down from right above and the slight breeze of the morning had died down, she’d come down to see that McQueen’d taken off the track suit jacket, down to the no longer pristine white color that it used to be. He looked gross, quite frankly. 

And at the end of the day, when he had finished the next stretch and she wasn’t going to stay another full night out there, she watched as he went to pick up the jacket only to find it covered in dust and grime. His head tilted back to look at the sky, letting out a loud sigh that was more of a groan. 

“They have washing machines at the hotel, you know,” she said as she was talking him back to the Tipton.

“I know,” he replied, looking very sadly down at the ball of fabric between his hands. “I don’t have any quarters for them.” 

Oh. Right. She had watched him pay with a card yesterday at the diner. Bessie paused, looking down at her watch to check the time. It was only 6:00pm. She could spare an hour. 

“Come on,” she said. 

This time he didn’t question where they were going, just followed beside her as she walked him into one of the clothing shoppes. 

“Hey, Bessie!” smiled one of her best friends, Jerome Cassidy. He’d been working in the shoppe since he’d been old enough to apply and had never wanted to do anything else. He eye’d Lightning McQueen, having gotten the 411 on everything about him from Bessie’s point of view over a few phone calls. 

Feeling the scrutiny, McQueen lifted his head to smile and wave. 

“Hey, Jerome,” she replied back. “You have anything in his size?” 

Jerome hummed, stepping closer to McQueen to circle around him. McQueen’s eyes followed him, shoulders lifting slightly. It made Bessie have to bite back a smile. Jerome stopped in front of McQueen, resting his index finger against his cheek, the rest falling under his chin. “I think I have something that could work.” 

“Perfect.” 

McQueen stepped out of the dressing room in a new pair of boots, jeans with a belt, and a dark green flannel shirt, still buttoning the last few before looking up at Bessie and Jerome. He frowned, letting his arms fall flippantly at his sides. “I look like a lumberjack.” 

“You wish,” Bessie scoffed. “We’ll take it.” 

She smiled as she watched McQueen reluctantly pay for the clothes, and then pout as she forced him to throw out his tattered tennis shoes. As they stepped out of the shoppe she started off in the opposite direction of the hotel. Now, he felt the need to ask where they were going. 

“My house,” she said, attempting nonchalance. Like this wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. Except it was, because she didn’t want him to know where she lived or for him to meet her mum or to look at anything in her place of refuge and comfort from the world. “So you can clean your clothes.” 

“Mum!” she called as they stepped inside. Bessie went through putting her things in their place, muscle memory. Her jacket hung on the rack by the door, her shoes kicked off just underneath it. Her keys went on the little table against the wall on the other side of the entryway and next to them her purse. 

“In the kitchen,” came her mother’s reply before the woman herself appeared in the doorway. She had an apron on over her skirt, flour dusting her skin. “I was just making- oh. Hello.” 

Her eyes had shifted from her daughter to the man standing behind her, still by the door. 

“Mum, this is Lightning McQueen,” Bessie said, keeping her voice pleasant but widening her eyes at her mother so that she would know. Her mum caught on and smiled, wiping her hand off on her apron, and approached McQueen.

“How do you do, Mr. McQueen?” she greeted, holding out her hand to him. He fumbled for a moment, tucking the ball of dirty clothes he’d been carrying under his arm so he could take her hand and nod. 

“Good. And you?” 

“Just fine, thank you,” she replied. “I’m Emily.”

“It’s very nice to meet you…Emily.” 

Yeah. Bessie regretted everything about this. 

“We’re just here so he can wash his clothes,” Bessie explained. 

“Is that what those are?” her mum asked, looking at the bundle he’d tried to hide. “My goodness! No wonder. Well come on in, we’ll get you all sorted out. Lightning was it?”

He nodded. 

Bessie led him into the kitchen, opening the door to the washing machine for him to chuck his things in. It didn’t occur to her until after she was pouring the detergent into the cap of the bottle why he was acting so squirrely about the clothes, trying to keep them out of sight and like a forgotten piece of the situation despite them being the whole point. She caught a glimpse of one of his socks and realized his underwear was in there somewhere. 

Back in the shoppe Jerome had asked, very loudly since McQueen was in the dressing room, “Do you want boxers or briefs?” 

Bessie smiled to herself, shaking her head as she leaned down to pour the detergent across the clothes. That’s where she caught a glimpse of a different fabric among the dirty red track suit and white undershirt. It was a red, too, but with a print of the number 95 in an orange-y yellow ombre duplicated across it. Bessie rolled her eyes and stood back up to shut the door and turn it on. 

She turned around to find her mum was putting McQueen to work. He was standing at the kitchen counter, a potato in one hand and a peeler in the other, getting the skin off. 

“When you’re done with those, the carrots are right here,” her mum said. 

When she looked over to Bessie they shared a silent conversation behind the man’s back. 

Bessie opened her hands in distress, shaking her head. 

Emily waved a hand at her daughter. 

Bessie moved her hand in a sharp line in front of her neck, over and over, shaking her head more fervently. 

“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” asked Emily. McQueen turned around, making Bessie drop her hands quickly and stand up straight. 

“Oh. Um,” he glanced between the two of them. Bessie was trying communicate with her face that he needed to say no. This seemed to make him smile, turning on whatever he thought was charm as he smiled at her mother, “If you don’t mind.” 

“Well-” started Bessie,

“Of course we don’t mind!” Emily said. 

And that’s how Bessie was, once again, sharing dinner with Lightning McQueen. His clothes were hanging up in the back room on the clothing line to dry. He’d been insistent on doing it himself. 

It was a simple meal of meat and potatoes, but it was wonderful all the same. Bessie wished she could have enjoyed it more, if not for her mum grilling McQueen after every bite. 

It’s where she learned that McQueen was from California, which probably explained his complexion. And attitude. Or maybe that just had everything to do with his upbringing. 

It was where she learned about how he got into the sport, how he trained, why he liked to compete, and of course, all about the race that he was trying to get home to. Which led him into the story of how he accidentally came to Swynlake and ruined the street. 

It was actually…scary. A biker gang had run his driver off the road, dragged him out the car, and were trying to hold him up. He’d gotten away, using his speed. But anywhere in the middle of nowhere was scary when you didn’t know the land and it was night, no light to be found. Bessie hated that she felt sympathetic to the story, frowning as she moved her potatoes around on her plate instead of eating them. 

“Is that why your arm’s all wrapped up?” asked Emily. 

He nodded, looking down at it. “Yeah. I…kinda made a mess when I got here.” 

“No kidding,” Bessie snorted, looking up when she felt her mum swipe at her. “What? He did!” 

“And he’s cleaning it up now. Aren’t you, Lightning?” 

“Trying to,” he agreed. Then he nodded toward a flyer that was sitting on top of the stack of mail in the middle of the kitchen table. “I’ve seen those all over town. What’re they for?” 

“Oh! That’s for a little event the Town Hall is putting on. It’s a fundraiser for a local youth sports league. They’re trying to go to nationals this year,” Emily explained. “They do these things often in town. They’ll have food and music. Everyone comes out to support one another. It’ll be fun! You should go!” 

“I don’t think he’ll be here that long,” Bessie cut in for him, already reading the reluctance on his face. 

“That’s right. You have that big race. What was it for again?” her mum asked, sending McQueen off onto another tangent about something called a Piston Cup and someone named Dinerco. 

Bessie was putting on her coat and shoes at the door, listening to her mum insist that McQueen take a box of food back with him in the kitchen. She’d gotten him a bag to put his freshly cleaned clothes into, along with the food and a few cookies for desert. 

He came out into the entryway alone and stopped when they made eye contact. McQueen took a few steps closer, nodding to the door, “You don’t have to walk me back.”

“It’s my job,” she replied, pulling her hair free from under the collar. 

“It’s late. You’re already home,” he continued to argue. “I can walk myself back. It’ll take me all of ten seconds.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious. McQueen raised his hands in mock surrender, the bag her mother had given to him hanging off one of his thumbs. “I’m not going to run away again. I’m almost done with the road, anyway. I’m just saying, there’s no need for you to get out again.” 

Bessie continued to stare at him, trying to find any indication that he was lying to her and plotting his escape plan. When she seemed to find only sincerity, she nodded slowly. “Okay…okay, but only if you call as soon as you get there.” 

“Deal,” he said. Bessie stepped over to her purse and handed him one of her business cards. He saluted her with it, smiling, and then walked out the door. 

She hadn’t even got her coat hung back on the hook before the phone was ringing. 

The next morning Bessie was getting McQueen set up to start working on the road when Deliah came running from up the road, looking all in a tizzy. 

“Bessie! Bessie!” 

“Hey, what-?” Bessie had to catch Deliah by her shoulders before she crashed into her. “What’s wrong?” 

“We just-!” Delilah took a second to breathe. “We just got a call in the office. The forest path by the river is under water. We need someone to go out there and put the precautions up before someone goes walking down it.”

“Oh. Well is Trevor-?”

“He’s out by the farmlands today, remember? The cows-” 

“Ah, I totally forgot. Um, okay! Well, then, can you watch him while I head out there?” 

“Sorry, Bess, I’ve got to-“

“The secondary parking lot. Right,” Bessie finished. She made it her mission to know what everyone in the office was doing, never wanting anyone to feel like they were forgotten or like their projects were unimportant. She pressed her lips together and looked over at McQueen. 

He returned her gaze for a few seconds, and she was waiting for him to protest and argue and throw a hissy fit about how he needed to finish the road and that this wasn’t fair to him. And it would be true, it wasn’t fair. But his shoulder drooped a little and he sighed.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “The quicker we get it done, the quicker we can get back.”

“Thank you,” Bessie said, earnest. He just nodded and gestured at her to lead.

They had to go back to the office for her to get the supplies she needed to block off the footpath. Or at least to the point where if anyone did go around the warnings and gates, they couldn’t come back to sue the town for negligence or whatever else. McQueen helped her put it all in the little buggy before he plopped down in the passenger seat. 

Bessie always liked going out on the Enchantra trails. For the job or just for the fun of it. On days like today, when the sun was manageable in the shade and the made breeze from the ride was cooling her skin, it was one of the best things to do. Getting to see the lush greens of the leaves in their summer bloom alongside all the vibrant flowers was something she would never tire of, no matter how many times she made this trip. 

She’d glanced over at McQueen as they got closer to the river, the water clearer than usual and sparkling against the sun’s light. Expecting to see him with his arms crossed over his chest, sitting like he had that first day in her office, closed off and reluctant to be there. 

Instead, he was sitting up and looking out at the scenery. One hand was holding the top of the buggy as he leaned closer to the edge of it, the other laying flat on the seat to hold himself up a little bit. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as the corners were curled upward. He seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Huh. So, even someone like him could be softened by the wonders of nature. 

She didn’t know why, but she felt the need to keep looking over at him. 

One time, she found that he was looking over at her, too. 

She stopped looking after that. 

Once they got to the point on the path that diverged, one leading down closer to the river that was going to be under water, she parked the buggy and hopped out. 

“How can I help?” McQueen asked. 

“Stay here for now,” she said, pulling out her bigger boots. “I’m going to go look at the water for a second. Just to see what sort of clean up we’ll have to do.” 

“Maybe I could-“

“No,” she shook her head. “If you got hurt before your big race, you’d never forgive yourself.” 

Bessie could feel his eyes on her as she walked off down the path and had to force herself to keep looking forward instead of checking over her shoulder. It didn’t take her very long to get down there, only venturing far enough to see it, not going anywhere near the edge of the water. She didn’t have anything like a career altering moment to get to in the next week, but she wasn’t going to get swept up in the water for being an idiot. It was pretty, though. Seeing the water rushing over itself. 

“Wow,” came a voice beside her, making her jump and turn, ready to attack. 

“You-!” she yelled as soon as her brain recognized McQueen standing there next to her. Bessie turned to look up the path, where she had left him, and then back to where he was standing. “I told you to stay put!” 

“I got bored.” 

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. 

“And this isn’t even that dangerous. It’s just…beautiful.” 

Bessie, reluctant to have this kind of moment with him, snorted. “What? They don’t have things like this in California? I thought you traveled around all over, anyway.” 

“Well sure. We’ve got mountains and waterfalls and all of that but I…” he frowned, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans to shove themselves into. “I don’t really have time to go do this sort of thing.” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling the snottiness of her tone falling away. Bessie glanced out at the river, “You can’t even go for a walk?” 

“No. I have to train and travel, and when I’m not doing that I’m filming things for my sponsor or going to events for them. Or I’m meeting fans and doing interviews so I keep my PR up and even have fans to support me. Or I’m meeting with my team to go over strategy, or marketing, or whatever else. It’s always go-go-go. I never get to just…slow down.” 

“Sounds awful.” 

“It’s not. I mean, it can be, but, I love racing.” 

“You didn’t even say racing in that whole terrible description,” she pointed out. 

“Well, that’s just the stuff I have to do to be able to race and even have a chance at winning the Piston Cup.” 

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. “Seems kinda pointless if all you have at the end of the day is just a trophy.” 

When he didn’t answer she turned, heading back up the path to get started on blocking off the path. 

“What about you?” he asked when he caught back up. “You ever think about leaving the small town life? Trying a city on for size?” 

“No,” Bessie smiled. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, of course. I think everyone that grows up here has their moments of thinking about a life away from it. Some go do that, some return, and some of us stay here.” 

“You don’t want to leave? Just to see what’s out there?” 

“I’ll travel when I have the money, sure. But this place is my home,” she told him. “I know the people here. I like my job, keeping the foundations of it in place for everyone to come and go as they please. It’s where I belong.” 

He hummed at this but didn’t try to argue anymore. They walked in a comfortable silence the rest of the way back. 

It didn’t take them too long to get everything set up, but she sort of side tracked them when she accidentally kicked dirt up onto his chest as he was leaning down to hold a stake steady as she hammered it into the ground. 

It made her giggle. 

He frowned, looking up at her. “Why is it that whenever I get something on me, it’s always your fault?” 

This had then turned into a little dirt throwing war that ended with her winning when he called, “Uncle! Uncle!” after getting a handful of dirt down the collar of his shirt. 

They packed back up and rode back to town. He worked for a few hours that afternoon until the sun began to set. She offered to turn the lights on and move them further down so he could continue into the night but he shook his head. 

“That’s alright,” he told her. She shrugged, and started to gather the tools to go put them away. “Hey, I can put this stuff away. You can go ahead.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” McQueen smiled. Bessie found herself smiling back, pleasantly surprised. Hey, maybe all it took was showing someone a slice of nature. “Thanks for letting me tag along today.” 

“You were doing me the favor,” she said. ���Alright well…I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 

“Yes you will,” he nodded. “You have a good night.” 

Bessie went home and found it weird to realize today had actually been okay. 

The next morning she walked out to Main Street to find that it was finished. The whole thing. From top to bottom, it was covered in a nice, clean, smooth layer of asphalt. She walked down it until she reached the end of the road, a little past the Tipton’s entrance. She couldn’t believe it. Bessie looked to the sides, finding the lights sitting on the sides of the road. 

He must have worked all night to finish it. 

Which meant…

Bessie jogged over to the hotel and asked the front desk if they had seen him.

“The sheriff checked him out earlier,” Sharon, the concierge, said. She gave Bessie a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Bess.” 

“That’s okay,” she said. It’s not like she cared. 

She walked back outside, taking a breath for herself in an attempt to convince herself that she was fine. Who needed a goodbye from some idiot anyway? It totally fit who he was as a person. Running away from everything. She was stupid to think-

“Bessie! Hey!” 

She blinked, turning her head to watch Lightning McQueen come jogging across the street. He was back in his, still tattered but mostly clean, track suit and with a sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck. Which she was not looking at. At all. 

“Uh, hi,” she said, her confusion in her tone and all over her face. “What’re you still doing here? You should be getting a plane back to California right about now, shouldn’t you?”

There was only two days left before the race, and as far as she was aware, a trip back to America wasn’t exactly the fastest thing in the world. It wouldn’t take him the whole two days, but she didn’t think stepping off a plane right onto the track would be advisable. 

“Well, I wanted to take a few laps around the paths this morning,” he said, which would explain why he was so sweaty and breathing hard. “And I also wanted to say goodbye.” 

“Oh,” she said. “Well…bye.” 

“No! No, I mean, you know, properly. And I wanted to thank your mom, too. Her cookies? So good.” 

Bessie had no idea what to say to this, so all she did was stare in reply. 

“I have a few things to do today. People to see, places to go,” he said. “So, I’ll meet you at your office when you’re off. Sound good?” 

She found herself nodding. 

“Alright, see you!” he waved.  

“But you don’t…” she started, watching him dart off to enter the hotel, “...have a room anymore- okay. Sure.” 

Bessie made it back to the office, sending a few people that were in to go pick up the lights, and then got started on the paperwork for the finished road. She and Trevor headed out to the forest path to see how the river was treating it and decided that they better keep the signs up for another day because while the water had gone down, it was still pretty slippery. She kept herself busy until Lightning was knocking on her door at the end of her day. 

He was back in the clothes he’d bought in town, smiling brightly, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she echoed. 

They stared at one another for a long moment before she cleared her throat, “So, uh, you said you wanted to say goodbye?” 

“Yeah, I figured, you’ve taken me to eat twice. It’s about time I returned the favor,” he said. “Can I take you somewhere? I passed by that Chinese place by the university earlier?” 

“Imperial City? Uh, yeah, sure, we can go there,” she agreed. 

“Great.”

The walk across down was weird to say the least. People passed them by, saying hello to both of them. By name. Like they knew him or something. And weirder, he called them by name! As if he knew them, too! 

“Bessie! McQueen!” the mechanic called as they passed him getting into his truck. 

“Hey, Matt,” Lightning replied. “You going tonight?”

“Of course. Bessie, save me a dance!” 

“Uh…okay?” Bessie agreed, watching Matthew wave out the open window of his truck and drive off. “Save him a dance?” 

“The fundraiser?” Lightning filled in for her. 

“That’s tonight? Wow,” she shook her head at herself. “I feel like this week as been-”

“A total blur? Yeah, I know what you mean.”

To her surprise, the meal wasn’t as painful as she thought it was going to be. Their conversation was pleasant and nice. She found herself answering the questions he asked without her usual snark. She was honest, like she wanted him to know since it seemed like he was actually interested in hearing what she had to say. 

He made her laugh. She made him laugh. They got into a bit of an argument over grass and terf, which had somehow come up in conversation, and then left. 

Bessie felt like she was buzzing as she walked beside him toward her neighborhood. Then, it suddenly hit her, that the night was coming to a close. This was it. This was a goodbye, after all, and after he had dropped her off at home and had a conversation with her mum about who knew what, he would leave. And he would never come back. 

She hated how disappointed she felt about that. 

They approached the corner that Town Hall sat on, the music from inside carrying out into the street where the large doors were propped open. People were all walking toward it, like moths to a flame. She was getting ready to step off the curb to cross the street when she felt his hand grab onto hers. Bessie followed the line of his arm up to his face. 

He looked nervous, the crease of his brow anything but the confidence he liked to wear everyday. She furrowed her brow at him, head moving to one side in a silent question as to why he was delaying them. 

“...want to dance?” he asked, turning slightly toward Town Hall. Bessie glanced over at the entrance, then back to him. She smiled and then nodded. 

Lightning led her inside until they were on the dance floor. She expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. Maybe because he didn’t seem all that concerned with the people around them, or with anyone but her, so it made her feel comfortable enough to let go. For one song, and then another, and another, until the transition from one to the next didn’t even register until the rhythm slowed down and he was pulling her by the hand closer until he had a hand on her waist and hers was resting on his shoulder. 

She sighed, gathering up the courage to look up at him and found he was already looking at her, eyes soft and smile even softer. It had her blushing. 

“Lightning-” she started.

“Monty,” he said.

“What?” 

“My name,” he said, “It’s- well, it’s Montgomery, but, you can call me Monty.”

“Oh,” she smiled and laughed, airy. “So your parents didn’t actually set you up for this god complex? You got that all on your own?” 

“They’re not completely innocent,” he replied, falling into rhythm with her teasing almost as easily as they were stepping in time together to the music. 

“Sure,” Bessie said, then swallowed. Her fingers tightening in the fabric of the flannel on his shoulder, “Monty.” 

“Lightning McQueen!” someone called and Bessie rolled her eyes, leaning forward to bury her head into his chest because she thought it was just Matthew or something, rolling up just in time to ruin the moment. 

But then the music was drowned out by the sound of people calling his name, and Bessie looked up only to be blinded by flashing lights. There were suddenly so many people talking at one time she couldn’t even make out one word from the next. The crowd of people, cameras and microphones, pushed toward them. She felt his grip on her hand tighten. Then someone grabbed her other hand, a shoulder pressing passed her. 

“Hey!” she protested, trying to keep her hold on his hand. “Monty!” 

“Bessie!” he replied. She watched as he flinched under the blinding lights of the cameras. One of them knocked against her temple, making her lose her grip on him, and suddenly he was in the middle of the pool as she was pushed to the edge. 

She didn’t see him leave, didn’t get to say what she wanted to. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. He was just gone. Everyone had come out onto the Main Street, the asphalt he had poured and smoothed over under their feet, as they watched a barrage of cars leaving the town. The night colored in the red of their tail lights. 

Bessie went home. 

“Hey,” her mum greeted her. “How was your day?” 

“It was…good,” she smiled. 

“Mr. McQueen leave?” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “He wanted me to tell you he said thank you. For dinner. He liked your cookies.”

“Oh, how sweet,” her mum said, pressing a hand to her chest. “We’ll have to watch his race this weekend.” 

“Yeah,” Bessie agreed. “We should.” 

Everyone else seemed to have the same idea about the race, basically bullying the owners at the Deer to put the Magick Grand Prix race on all their televisions. A good crowd had gathered, ordered their drinks and food, and settled in to watch as the three finalists took to the track. Bessie held her breath as she watched the cameras get a close up on Lightning McQueen, the announcers talking about how he had been missing for a week and that everyone had been happy to find him again. Rescued from some no-where town in England. 

“Hey! That’s us!” Matthew grinned from where he was sitting beside her in the booth she and her mum had claimed. Bessie shook her head, picking up her pint and hiding her smile behind it. The race felt long and torturous, every lap around the changing course felt like an hour when it only took a few minutes. 

At one point, the Chick Hicks character had ankle tapped McQueen, sending him plunging off the side of a high up obstacle. Everyone in the pub gasped, their breaths kept hostage in their lungs until the camera showed a hand reaching up over the edge. Then McQueen’s face, and other hand, until he pulled himself back up. Then everyone was cheering. 

Bessie wasn’t, though, because he wasn’t getting back up. He was just laying there. He looked okay, but from just a camera view, who the hell even knew? She bit down on her lip, waiting. 

McQueen rolled over onto his stomach, getting up onto his hands and knees. He reached up to swipe a hand over his face, then pulled away to look at his palm. She couldn’t tell what he was looking at. A scratch? Was something stuck in here?

The camera cut over to the other two racers, who had slowed down as they tried to figure out how to jump over some big cavern in the middle of the course, and then it was back on McQueen. He was picking up a handful of dirt for some reason and standing. Then he proceeded to rub it between his hands, and off on his uniform, until it was dirtied. 

“What the hell is he doin’?” Matthew asked, leaning closer to her. Bessie shrugged, but smiled. 

McQueen started running again, and when he got to where the other racers were, he didn’t slow down. Instead he sped up, and decided that he was just going to go over the giant gap in the course. 

By some miracle, he made it across, and continued on. He was a lap down, though, so he had a lot to make up for. 

“Look at him go!” Matthew said then whistled through his teeth. “Oh man, looks like he’s back in it!” 

The race continued. One lap after another, until the final one was up. All three were beside one another, neck and neck and neck at this point. They all looked tired, but it seemed like McQueen had the edge of youth on his side. Or maybe it was something else that made him look so determined. 

 Again, though, it seemed Chick Hicks wanted to play dirty because as soon as he was right behind the other racer, the one in the turquoise uniform, everyone was stumbling. McQueen was off screen as the man in turquoise fell forward, hands out in front of him. But he just kept tumbling over himself, as the part of the course was a large down hill. Down, down, down, he rolled until everything flattened out again. But by the time he’d stopped, he looked awful. Beat up, face bloody. There was no telling what state his limbs were in. 

Chick Hicks kept running. 

McQueen, who had apparently managed to keep his feet, and had pulled out in a very large lead, had stopped. Right at the finish line and turned around. Chick Hicks crossed the finish line, being deemed the winner. 

But no one was paying him any attention. Even the cameras were all focused on McQueen as he was picking up the racer in turquoise, which Bessie was hearing to be named The King. And she had thought Lightning McQueen was a showboat of a name. 

He slung the man over the back of his shoulders, and carried him toward the finish line. He walked backwards across it, so that The King crossed it first, and then was able to hand him off to the paramedics that had finally made it onto the course. 

Everyone in the pub erupted into cheers and applause. The night continued on with celebrating the little celebrity that they had all come to know over the course of a few short days, and who had left his mark right in the center of town. 

Bessie went to sleep concluding that the day had gone better than she expected. It was tomorrow she was worried about. 

Nothing happened. She went to work, got a call about a pothole that would need to be repaired, and continued on. As always. That’s just what the people of Swynlake did. They continued on. 

It wasn’t until the day after that did she get a phone call from someone with an American accent. 

“Hey! Is this Bessie Ramirez?” 

“Yes, how can I help you?” 

“I’m Gerri Peterson with the California Gazet, we were wondering if you could do an interview with your time with Lightning McQueen and-!” 

Bessie hung up. She got a few more phone calls like this. The tenth one she answered it by saying, “Piss off, you vultures!” and hung up. 

She wanted to stop answering her phone altogether. She would have to look into getting a new number later. 

“Hello. Yes, this is Bessie Ramirez. No, I am not going to be interviewed,” she answered her phone as she was walking home that afternoon, tired and annoyed now.  

“That’s good to know,” said a familiar voice. She blinked, pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment to look at it, as if that would help her brain decipher if this was real or not. 

“Uh, hello?” she asked. 

“Hi, Bessie,” and yes. It was Monty. 

“Hi,” she replied. “Um, not to be rude or anything but…why are you calling me?” 

“My agent told me that everyone’s been contacting people in Swynlake. You especially since my community service was apparently a public record and since you were the one overlooking it, your name was on the document. I wanted to say sorry,” he said. “Those people are vultures.” 

She huffed a laugh, “Yeah. I know. I could barely deal with them for a day. Can’t imagine how you’re holding up after what you pulled the other day.” 

“You watched?” 

“Of course,” she said. “The whole town did. Well, most of us, anyway. At least that’s what it felt like.” 

“What did you think?” 

“I thought it was very boring,” she smiled and it grew when she heard him laugh over the line. “But it sure did pick up in the end.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Matthew loved it.”

“How’s he doing? I was going to call him after you.” 

“He’s good. Same as ever. He’s started a petition to rename Main Street after you.” 

“Really? You know, I always said he was the smartest person in that town.” 

“He has his moments.” 

She walked a few more steps, stopping on the corner of her street in Tortuga. They simply sat in the silence for a few more moments before Bessie knew she had to say something. 

“Well. I guess this is goodbye.” 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said in an instant. 

“Yes. It does,” she said. “You have your busy life and I have my quiet one. I wouldn’t make it a day in your world, and you’d get bored here. We both know it.” 

“But-” 

“No buts. We had a good couple of days. That’s all. You can call me whenever, alright? So, I’ll talk to you sometime. Sound good?” 

“No.”

She smiled. “Very well. Goodbye, Monty.” 

“I’m not saying it,” he said and she felt her heart squeeze. “Not yet.” 

“Whatever you say,” she said. Bessie hung up, phone clipping shut between her fingers. 

It wasn’t until a month later that the office got a very peculiar phone call about a new resident needing their sidewalk repaved. 

“What? But that’s in the Tortuga Neighborhood. No one there needs anything repaired.”

“I don’t know. It’s just what the caller asked for. You want me to go take a look?” 

Bessie side, letting her head fall forward on her desk. She knew what sort of person was probably moving in and hated the idea of them already. She picked her head up, “No, Trevor. I’ve got it.” 

She walked there, taking the brisk winter air in to settle the annoyed heat that had been blooming in her chest at the thought of his call. What kind of uppity person was this? Needing their sidewalk repaved when it was, no doubt, perfectly fine! Bessie knew these things! She would have been the first one to ask the new resident if they wanted something filled in! 

She stepped up to the house, eyes glued to the pavement. And wouldn’t you know it, it looked perfectly fine. 

Oooo, she was in for one with whoever was inside that house. 

Bessie marched up the walkway, and knocked. 

And wouldn’t you know who opened the door but Lightning McQueen. She took a step back, her anger melting at such a surprise. 

“Wha-? What the-? “

“Let me explain,” he said, following her as she kept walking backwards down the front lawn. “Bessie, wait! Where are you going?” 

“I don’t know!” she said. “I can’t-! Why are you here?” 

“I bought a house!” he said. She whipped around, eyes looking from him up to the house and then back again. 

“No you didn’t.” 

“Yes, I did.” 

“No, you didn’t!” 

“Yes I did! I can show you the paperwork!” 

“No, you didn’t. You can’t just buy a house. Not here.”

“Why not?” 

“Because!” she blurted, all the emotions she’d been keeping inside of her for the past few months spilling out now that he was here and he was saying he bought a house. “You’re not someone who settles down! You’re someone who travels around and who doesn’t have any down time! And because if you bought a house that means you think something is going to happen and it can’t because you’re- you have races to go to. And you train all the time, and you have people who follow you around like a pack of rabid wolves trying to get the lowdown on what kind of coffee you drink in the morning so they can write some weird article about it. Because you’ll get bored here. You’ll get bored of me. And I’m not going to be the reason you miss out on things and opportunities because you love racing and you’ll resent me, and then you’ll leave and I can’t- I can’t do that again! We knew one another for a few days. You can’t just- you can’t do this!” 

Monty closed his mouth that had become ajar over the course of her big fat rant, wanting to interrupt her but having no way in until she had finished. But by then he needed to regroup, so his mouth shut and he breathed in deeply. She shrank as he came forward, watching as he tentatively reached out to take her hands. 

“Okay, um,” he said. “Look, I get it. I do. And I’ve thought about this. It’s all I’ve been thinking about actually, since you hung up on me. Which, ow, by the way.” 

She winced, “Sorry.” 

“I know it’s a lot. Believe me, buying property in another country was a big headache, but I couldn’t not do it. I don’t know what happened to me here. You’re right, it was only a few days, but I met my best friend here, some really great people, and you,” he said. “I’m not going to stop racing, but I don’t want to burn out while I’m still in my rookie days. So, I bought this house to have a place to call home. Somewhere I can come back to and have some peace and quiet. You do know there’s such a thing as an off season, right?” 

Bessie made a face, sheepish, before ducking her head. Monty chuckled. He released a hold of one of her hands to touch her chin, gently lifting her head up to meet his gaze. 

“You’re serious about this?” she asked. 

“I am,” he replied. “So, now that that’s settled. Would you wanna go on a date with me?” 

Bessie groaned and squeezed her eyes shut against her embarrassment for how brazen he was, pulling away from him, but only far enough away that both of their arms were stretched, hands holding one another, and then she reeled herself back in. Bessie peaked one eye open, “Yeah, alright.” 

“Good,” he said, grinning something beautiful. She sighed, taking another step toward him. “And for the record, Bess, I’d never get bored of you.” 

Epilogue: 

“Bessie,” came Monty’s voice from the other room. She hummed in response, standing in front of the stove, watching the soup simmer. “Bessie! Bessie get in here!” 

She dropped the spoon she’d been holding and ran, panic immediately filling her up to the brim at the sound of his insistence. She stopped herself on the back of the couch, “What? What-?” 

“Look!” he said, arms opened and eyes trained in front of him. Bessie turned her attention that way, watching as Cruz was stood with her little hands bracing herself against the couch. Her eyes were focused on her dad, mouth in a determined line. He flapped his fingers, “Come on, Cruz, I know you want to. Come over here.” 

Bessie didn’t move or say anything, not wanting to break the moment with it. 

Cruz turned herself, movements clumsy. She had one hand against the sofa seat now, fingers digging in to the fabric. One of her feet stuck out in front of her. Then the other one. She let got of the sofa and tilted a little to far forward, but she caught herself. Her arms were held out from her, reaching out toward Monty. He didn’t say anything, just watched as she crossed the short distance, basically carried by the momentum of her weight, until he caught her in his hands before she could face plant into the carpet. 

He hoisted her above his head, laughing, and then lowered her until their noses were touching. Cruz giggled with delight. “I knew you could do it!” 

Bessie rounded the couch to join. Monty let Cruz down to sit on the floor between them so Bessie could dote on her, too. 

“What a chip off the block, eh?” he said, rubbing the little girl’s back. “I’ll have her ready to get on the track in no time.” 

“Okay, calm down,” Bessie shook her head. “She’s not even a year yet!” 

“Gotta start early, babe!” 

She rolled her eyes, putting her palm against his cheek and gently pushing him away from her. Bessie stood, going back to make sure the soup wasn’t boiling over. From in the kitchen she could hear him talking to their daughter in a hushed tone, “Don’t listen to her, kiddo. You’ll be the best one out there. Cruz Ramirez-McQueen has won the Piston Cup! And the crowd goes wild, aahhh! Aaahh!” 

Bessie laughed quietly to herself. 

[cinematicnomad]

hi! i hope this is okay to ask, but i was just wondering if you could tell me/us a bit more about how you landed your job (which seems SO cool)? like, is this something you were always interested in? did you have to go to school for it? i'd love to work on the comm/marketing team for a university in my country--because i really miss the feeling of being on a busy, bustling campus--but idk if there's a better way of going about it than just cold-calling or emailing the hr dept about vacancies...

(2/2 uni job anon) comm/marketing and recruitment (which is what you do, i think?) are quite different ofc--i just think that these particular universities could really use a hand with their various english-language dispatches and know i could really help them out if i found a way onto their staff roster...

hey anon! i'm definitely happy to answer any questions. i can't comment on how your countries university's handle hiring. in the states, universities tend to list all of their open administrator/staff positions online. you can literally google a university name + jobs and you'll find a link. once on it, you can usually narrow you're search—so in your case, you could potentially narrow it down to positions with the words 'marketing' 'communications' 'social media' etc etc. then find the position that fits your interest and fill out the application and submit it. then you just have to...wait. which for universities (at least in the states) can take some time.

i put my personal journey in my work below the cut if anyone's interested:

i didn't originally go to school with the intention of working in higher ed. i got my bachelors in english lit with a minor in history. i thought i might become a writer or go into publishing or something. i v much did not know what i wanted to do by the time i finished undergrad. i traveled some the summer after college and didn't really seriously thinking about my post-school plans until late july. i didn't have a drivers license (let alone a car or easy access to public transportation) and i was living in suburbia with my parents so my options were really limited—but i lucked out in that we lived about a 15 minute walk from a large public university so i just kind of...applied to everything? i didn't have much by the way of experience—at this point my resume amounted to 3 summers working as a clerk in a doctor's office, a summer as a day camp counselor, a summer working as a sales associate at homegoods, and an internship at a british private publishing company. basically i had customer service skills and i knew how to function in an office and i could string coherent sentences together. the one guiding point i had when applying to jobs was that...i'd grown up traveling around the world and so i was intrigued by the jobs i saw that had to do with international admissions/students/etc. i prioritized those applications, but honestly i would have taken anything.

i luckily got an interview and an eventual offer for a part-time assistant job in the office of international admissions. and my career kind of just...evolved from there? about 6 months later my supervisor moved into a new position and i was asked to apply for his job so i did. it wasn't exactly what i wanted to be doing—i spent my days sitting in an office reviewing international transcripts to determine a) if the school was recognized/accredited; b) the US degree equivalency; and c) the student's equivalent US gpa AND i was given the task of processing and issuing immigration documents for incoming int'l students. these are two incredibly niche, vital processes for international admissions and having that baseline expertise was good for me. i stayed at that university for a total of 4 years before accepting a position at a smaller private university in DC—by this point i had a license and a car and could afford to move closer to public transportation. career-wise it was lateral move—i didn't get a title bump, but i did get a decent salary increase AND the job was more generalized. which was good for me! all of my work up until that point had been SO specialized and isolated that i spent a lot of time on my own cooped up in an office doing work alone—and bc my job was so isolated and no one could cover for me, and it was so reliant on being in the office, i was never given the opportunity to travel. which sucked. my new job let me experience different facets of admissions with a team of people and also allowed me the chance to get some experience recruiting domestically.

after i'd been there for a while i took advantage of one of the common benefits of working in higher ed in the US—tuition benefits. i applied for and was admitted into a master's program int'l education and my job covered 90% of the tuition. whenever i had a performance review or check in with my supervisor i let her know i was interested in recruiting internationally for the office. halfway through the program my boss offered me the chance to apply for a new position in my office with the understanding that it would come with a pay increase, a title bump, and FINALLY: int'l recruiting. i applied, got the job, renewed my passport so i could be ready to travel...and then COVID hit.

that derailed plans a little but i stayed in my job and kept working. i finally got to start recruiting internationally for my job last fall and around november i had another conversation with my boss about a new position—this one would be focused on recruiting internationally and on developing partnerships with other universities and designing joint programs. so that's what i'm doing now! and that's how i got here.

not sure if anyone is actually here still reading this! but if you are, i am happy to answer any questions you might have about preparing for interviews, what to expect, other nitty-gritty details, etc.

[taxisaddlestone]

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[ribillustrated]

'THE POEM'

The Poem is a collection of 7 paintings inspired by poetry that I wrote almost 20 years ago. The theme of the poems is the hardship of growing up. This, as we all know, is a very exhausting, sensitive and often quite pathetic, period of life, which make it perfect for poetry.

When I dug them up a couple of years ago, I thought that they deserve to be illustrated, and that's how this series came about.

Over the course of 7 weeks I will share them with you.

THE PUBERTY

I should finally start to act like an adult. Stop dreaming and go to some prestige school and have a career and make money in some very stable currency. And go out shopping at the weekends. And have shoes by Gucci, and two lovers that I won’t let too close to my skin. And smoke only in the evenings in bars, slurp Lambrusco and look sophisticated.

…and one morning everything will settle and shortly we’ll put on four pairs of slippers…

And all of a sudden I find myself somewhere between the laundry and a warm dinner and I will finally have to do something about the stinking corpse of that Hawaiian Bishon from old times.

And all around me only sterilised cold, cable telly turned up too loud and in my wardrobe expensive latex from abroad that I’ve never wore. And in that moment I realise that I never swam in my own swimming pool next to our 10 million villa like I did in the public one near the council estate I grew up on the one full of bacteria and microbes. And I’m asking myself where was the cursed crossroad where I turned so fucking wrong and if I can still come back to that point and try to drive my Maseratti as fast as I can straight into the wall. And I’m scared to death of that moment when I give in to all the bullshit about how my life is actually brilliant and I’ll smell the babyfood on the cooker burning meanwhile the kids finally fall asleep for a bit and I will not want to get my head out of the ‘Oven Of Freedom’.

Fuck.

So I’d rather save myself all the hassle I’ll wait for the green light and drive full speed into that wall right now. The blood from the bricks at the sight of the crash will be cleaned up by nameless bloke that got half a year of community service and a reporter from the Daily Mail will stop a couple of passers by.

Or I can pull myself together and get out of that ridiculously expensive car and leave the whole world beeping behind me. And try to go by my own feet somewhere where it will not end up in such a fucked up way. And instead of all the rude names for a woman behind the steering wheel I hear the driver behind me shouting:

Now more than ever It’s time to grow up!!!

[limo-service-jacksonville]

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[bettsfic]

okay this got more traffic than i expected and i'm finally done working for the day. here are a few more fun facts:

the book begins with Hill being reassigned from Eisenhower to Mrs. Kennedy and being upset and disappointed that he'll no longer be "where the action is." he then goes to meet Jackie and "looked around the living room to try to get a feel for Mrs. Kennedy's tastes and the kinds of things she liked."

when he meets her, he finds her "much more striking than [he] had imagined." and, "she was very attractive, very gracious, and very pregnant."

he explains that his mother was disabled and so "from a young age, [he] learned to anticipate her needs and was always protective of her."

he was there for JFK Jr.'s birth and in the hospital was "pacing as if [he] were the father to be."

"i wasn't there to be a friend--my job was to protect her." one (1) paragraph later, "usually it would just be the two of us...and it was on these walks that both of us began to let our guards down with each other." next page: "the more time Mrs. Kennedy and I spent together, the more comfortable our relationship became."

for some reason Frank Sinatra is the annoying friend who won't stop calling and Hill has to make a number of excuses as to why Mrs. Kennedy isn't available. this is not explained.

after a scene where Mrs. Kennedy asks the driver to pull over and requests a cigarette from Hill: "it was the first of many such secrets we would keep with each other." my annotation: what are you trying to say, Mr. Hill?

his job goes very quickly from bodyguard to doing literally anything to make her happy, including figuring out how to smuggle a horse into the US.

at one point Jackie makes him play tennis, suit and sunglasses and all, and he keeps hitting the ball like it's a baseball. "'Mr. Hill,' she called from the other side of the net. 'The object is to hit the ball to me so I can return it.'"

JFK tells Hill explicitly, "Do not let Mrs. Kennedy cross paths with Aristotle Onassis." this is never explained, but it does become a bizarre comedy of errors while he tries desperately to keep Jackie away from Onassis. many years later, his only comment is that he refuses to refer to her as "Mrs. Onassis."

from pages 85 to 200some, the pattern of the book is, Jackie: does something impulsive and dangerous. Hill (internally): oh god. Hill (externally): That's fine, Mrs. Kennedy :) or We'll see that it happens, Mrs. Kennedy :) or Yes, Mrs. Kennedy. Anything you ask.

she made him learn how to water ski. she almost made him learn how to ride a horse.

there is less than a paragraph referring to Bay of Pigs. he spends half a page summarizing JFK's first year in office and about ten pages are dedicated to Jackie water-skiing in Italy.

he was given the code name Dazzle and he has no idea why.

this book covers JFK's entire presidency and yet careful attention is paid to every time Hill helps her in or out of a vehicle. ex: "I...opened the door for her, taking her hand gently as she stepped out of the car." WHY

when they go shopping together they have to "make it appear as if [they] were a couple."

there are a number of instances where he wishes he could hug her. and he FINALLY DOES. at the VERY END. when they PART WAYS FOREVER.

JFK never carries cash on him and is constantly hounding his Secret Service agents for money.

"Everywhere I looked, I thought of what Mrs. Kennedy would think."

Jackie is given a ceremonial dagger with which to slaughter a lamb. Hill has to bend the earth to get this community to slaughter the lamb in her honor *after* she leaves. she remains unaware about the lamb.

the book ends with Jackie's death in the '90s and a statement more or less about Hill being miserable for the rest of his life. but then in the acknowledgements at the end, there's a paragraph about how writing this book brought him back to life again and he ended up marrying his co-author in 2021. so, a long overdue happy ending.

reading the tags on your last post (guard dog dynamic), and i'm so curious, what book were you reading? 👀

god, this is going to make me sound insane. i wrote a whole newsletter about it and i'm probably not going to post it. but i got VERY invested in the assassination of JFK, particularly the Secret Service agents who "failed" (their word, not mine) in saving him. more particularly, Jackie's lead SSA, who loved her. i mean he loved her. and then i found out he wrote a whole book about her, Mrs. Kennedy and Me, and it's just one very long, sad love letter. nothing ever happened between them, or if it did it wasn't mentioned. but they had a very...unique relationship that i've only ever really read in fiction.

suffice it to say it gutted me.

[magicmindless]

I wanna post my pl headcanons so here (from my Instagram stories but now here)

[od]-Sue's natural reflex to being tickled is to immediately throw hands. And if it isn't that it's a lot of swearing (no Mary isn't an exception she fucking hates it no matter what)

-Duke Gotcha's name is actually Eli

-People who come from Maple Mountains are usually known for being VERY honest, they never hold back on what they say (plus they're tall)

-Duke would be able to rock a dress, no arguments there

-Timm would also be able to rock a dress and Quinn slays in a suit making them the perfect gender-non-confirming couple

-Simone likes using absurd overly-self confident humor and Didar likes going along with it

-Kayla gets really anxious whenever fans try to talk to her in public and sometimes missed the peace that she got with a normal life

-Emmlette has ADHD

[idk]-Mary looks younger than she really is and is often mistaken as such. Whenever she goes to bars with her friends she always seems to be the only one ever asked for an ID check before being served

-Doesn't help that Mary is childish in a few ways and is one of those people who looks "cute" when they're angry and is often teases about it which only pisses her off more

-Brody has accidentally drank paint water before. Don't ask how, he just did it for some reason thinking it was coffee. And he didn’t even mind when it was paint water

-Allan has a teddy bear and it's name is Jack and it was his comfort item, especially in high school while he was getting bullied. However he’s embarrassed by it so only Timm, Robby, and Akari know about it

[ch]-Mindy is basically the matchmaker of the Papa Apartments and knows all the gossip especially when it comes to love (also exposed Sue being a lesbian and having a crush on Mary. Not in front of anyone they were just alone and she was like "oh yeah I know you're gay btw”

-Timm Allan and Robby are all friends and when they go out by car together Timm is usually the driver since he's deemed the most responsible one. Allan usually rides shotgun cause he's tall and Robby sits in the back cause he's a runt

-Johnny is like a Disney Princess in the way that he can attract all the woodland creatures to him just by whistling

-Radlynn and Sarge Fan sometimes meet Mousse and Whippa whenever they sneak out late at night (Sarge usually for mischief and Radlynn whenever she wants to be away from her parents) and usually whenever they meet Mousse and Whippa will let them stay at the Gingersnap Lounge for a while under their supervision to talk things out, then helps them both get home safely

-Joy has a habit of cracking her joints because of gymnastics and it drives Roy and sometimes Papa Louie up the wall

-Akari nearly got her and Allan arrested while speeding to the Sugarplex Film Feast. When they arrived, Akari nearly ran over a couple people with a few police cars that had followed them, then loudly announcing their arrival while Allan looked like his soul had left his body along the way (Petrona was livid because of this but Louie made sure she was left off the hook and only had to do community service afterwards

-Didar is known as a huge prankster among any set he's worked with, including Nowtime News and Mocharia Life. Most of his pranks are harmless albeit a few cruel. Sometimes Simone or others will join in (depending on who he's pranking)

[ch]-Speaking of which despite Sue technically being a superior on set she's still teased a lot since she's fairly young (23 in my hc)

[ch]-Emmlette is definitely the mom friend who will always make sure that you're eating enough and cares about your well-being (she's also the one who teases Sue the most since they’re in similar positions)

-Petrona doesn’t detest relationships but she can’t help but cringe whenever any of the couples are too mushy with each other

-Taylor has 2 YouTube channels: A gaming channel which is his main, and a vlog channel to post him doing stupid shit with his friends

[od]-The girls of the Papa apartments like to hang out at Cloudberry Salon late at night. And since guys are never invited they like to joke about what goes on like pagan rituals and witchcraft (none of that sort of stuff happens it's just normal "talking about life" things... or is it?)

-During the production of Mocharia life Mindy and Whiff adopted a snow-white kitten named Cotton

-Quinn doesn't hate dogs, but she's scared of big dogs. But she's fine with little dogs

I have more but I feel like this is too much already

[puppypeter]

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

OR

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

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Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

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Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

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“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."