#she did rule 2022

[lovelydialeonard]

2022: what a year for our lovely Lydia Leonard! ✨

Happy New Year, everyone! 🍾

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

So today I learned that the old man here is Mikal Tanthalos, the King of Tir Asleen and Sorsha's father. All references to their relation, including a scene of Sorsha finding him frozen in Tir Asleen, were cut out of the original film.

[liberaljane]

Women's Not So Distant History

This #WomensHistoryMonth, let's not forget how many of our rights were only won in recent decades, and weren’t acquired by asking nicely and waiting. We need to fight for our rights. Here's are a few examples:

📍 Before 1974's Fair Credit Opportunity Act made it illegal for financial institutions to discriminate against applicants' gender, banks could refuse women a credit card. Women won the right to open a bank account in the 1960s, but many banks still refused without a husband’s signature. This allowed men to continue to have control over women’s bank accounts. Unmarried women were often refused service by financial institutions entirely.

📍 Before 1977, sexual harassment was not considered a legal offense. That changed when a woman brought her boss to court after she refused his sexual advances and was fired. The court stated that her termination violated the 1974 Civil Rights Act, which made employment discrimination illegal.⚖️

📍 In 1969, California became the first state to pass legislation to allow no-fault divorce. Before then, divorce could only be obtained if a woman could prove that her husband had committed serious faults such as adultery. 💍By 1977, nine states had adopted no-fault divorce laws, and by late 1983, every state had but two. The last, New York, adopted a law in 2010.

📍In 1967, Kathrine Switzer, entered the Boston Marathon under the name "K.V. Switzer." At the time, the Amateur Athletics Union didn't allow women. Once discovered, staff tried to remove Switzer from the race, but she finished. AAU did not formally accept women until fall 1971.

📍 In 1972, Lillian Garland, a receptionist at a California bank, went on unpaid leave to have a baby and when she returned, her position was filled. Her lawsuit led to 1978's Pregnancy Discrimination Act, which found that discriminating against pregnant people is unlawful

📍 It wasn’t until 2016 that gay marriage was legal in all 50 states. Previously, laws varied by state, and while many states allowed for civil unions for same-sex couples, it created a separate but equal standard. In 2008, California was the first state to achieve marriage equality, only to reverse that right following a ballot initiative later that year. 

📍In 2018, Utah and Idaho were the last two states that lacked clear legislation protecting chest or breast feeding parents from obscenity laws. At the time, an Idaho congressman complained women would, "whip it out and do it anywhere,"

📍 In 1973, the Supreme Court affirmed the right to safe legal abortion in Roe v. Wade. At the time of the decision, nearly all states outlawed abortion with few exceptions. In 1965, illegal abortions made up one-sixth of all pregnancy- and childbirth-related deaths. Unfortunately after years of abortion restrictions and bans, the Supreme Court overturned Roe in 2022. Since then, 14 states have fully banned care, and another 7 severely restrict it – leaving most of the south and midwest without access. 

📍 Before 1973, women were not able to serve on a jury in all 50 states. However, this varied by state: Utah was the first state to allow women to serve jury duty in 1898. Though, by 1927, only 19 states allowed women to serve jury duty. The Civil Rights Act of 1957 gave women the right to serve on federal juries, though it wasn't until 1973 that all 50 states passed similar legislation

📍 Before 1988, women were unable to get a business loan on their own. The Women's Business Ownership Act of 1988 allowed women to get loans without a male co-signer and removed other barriers to women in business. The number of women-owned businesses increased by 31 times in the last four decades. 

Free download

📍 Before 1965, married women had no right to birth control. In Griswold v. Connecticut (1965), the Supreme Court ruled that banning the use of contraceptives violated the right to marital privacy.

📍 Before 1967, interracial couples didn’t have the right to marry. In Loving v. Virginia, the Supreme Court found that anti-miscegenation laws were unconstitutional. In 2000, Alabama was the last State to remove its anti-miscegenation laws from the books.

📍 Before 1972, unmarried women didn’t have the right to birth control. While married couples gained the right in 1967, it wasn’t until Eisenstadt v. Baird seven years later, that the Supreme Court affirmed the right to contraception for unmarried people.

📍 In 1974, the last “Ugly Laws” were repealed in Chicago. “Ugly Laws” allowed the police to arrest and jail people with visible disabilities for being seen in public. People charged with ugly laws were either charged a fine or held in jail. ‘Ugly Laws’ were a part of the late 19th century Victorian Era poor laws. 

📍 In 1976, Hawaii was the last state to lift requirements that a woman take her husband’s last name.  If a woman didn’t take her husband’s last name, employers could refuse to issue her payroll and she could be barred from voting. 

📍 It wasn’t until 1993 that marital assault became a crime in all 50 states. Historically, intercourse within marriage was regarded as a “right” of spouses. Before 1974, in all fifty U.S. states, men had legal immunity for assaults their wives. Oklahoma and North Carolina were the last to change the law in 1993.

📍 ��In 1990, the Americans with Disability Act (ADA) – most comprehensive disability rights legislation in U.S. history – was passed. The ADA protected disabled people from employment discrimination. Previously, an employer could refuse to hire someone just because of their disability.

📍 Before 1993, women weren’t allowed to wear pants on the Senate floor. That changed when Sen. Moseley Braun (D-IL), & Sen. Barbara Mikulski (D-MD) wore trousers - shocking the male-dominated Senate. Their fashion statement ultimately led to the dress code being clarified to allow women to wear pants. 

📍 Emergency contraception (Plan B) wasn't approved by the FDA until 1998. While many can get emergency contraception at their local drugstore, back then it required a prescription. In 2013, the FDA removed age limits & allowed retailers to stock it directly on the shelf (although many don’t).

📍  In Lawrence v. Texas (2003), the Supreme Court ruled that anti-cohabitation laws were unconstitutional. Sometimes referred to as the ‘'Living in Sin' statute, anti-cohabitation laws criminalize living with a partner if the couple is unmarried. Today, Mississippi still has laws on its books against cohabitation. 

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #31

August 9-16 2024

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced together the successful conclusion of the first negotiations between Medicare and pharmaceutical companies over drug prices. For years Medicare was not allow to directly negotiate princes with drug companies leaving seniors to pay high prices. It has been a Democratic goal for many years to change this. President Biden noted he first introduced a bill to allow these negotiations as a Senator back in 1973. Thanks to Inflation Reduction Act, passed with no Republican support using Vice-President Harris' tie breaking vote, this long time Democratic goal is now a reality. Savings on these first ten drugs are between 38% and 79% and will collectively save seniors $1.8 billion dollars in out of pocket costs. This comes on top of the Biden-Harris Administration already having capped the price of insulin for Medicare's 3.5 million diabetics at $35 a month, as well as the Administration's plan to cap Medicare out of pocket drug costs at $2,000 a year starting January 2025.

President Biden and Vice President Harris have launched a wide ranging all of government effort to crack down on companies wasting customers time with excessive paperwork, hold times, and robots rather than real people. Some of the actions from the "Time is Money" effort include: The FTC and FCC putting forward rules that require companies to make canceling a subscription or service as easy as signing up for it. The Department of Transportation has required automatic refunds for canceled flights. The CFPB is working on rules to require companies to have to allow customers to speak to a real person with just one button click ending endless "doom loops" of recored messages. The CFPB is also working on rules around chatbots, particularly their use from banks. The FTC is working on rules to ban companies from posting fake reviews, suppressing honest negative reviews, or paying for  positive reviews. HHS and the Department of Labor are taking steps to require insurance companies to allow health claims to be submitted online. All these actions come on top of the Biden Administration's efforts to get rid of junk fees.

President Biden and First Lady Jill Biden announced further funding as part of the President's Cancer Moonshot. The Cancer Moonshot was launched by then Vice-President Biden in 2016 in the aftermath of his son Beau Biden's death from brain cancer in late 2015. It was scrapped by Trump as political retaliation against the Obama-Biden Administration. Revived by President Biden in 2022 it has the goal of cutting the number of cancer deaths in half over the next 25 years, saving 4 million lives. Part of the Moonshot is Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health (ARPA-H), grants to help develop cutting edge technology to prevent, detect, and treat cancer. The President and First Lady announced $150 million in ARPA-H grants this week focused on more successful cancer surgeries. With grants to Tulane, Rice, Johns Hopkins, and Dartmouth, among others, they'll help fund imaging and microscope technology that will allow surgeons to more successfully determine if all cancer has been remove, as well as medical imaging focused on preventing damage to healthy tissues during surgeries.

Vice-President Harris announced a 4-year plan to lower housing costs. The Vice-President plans on offering $25,000 to first time home buyers in down-payment support. It's believed this will help support 1 million first time buyers a year. She also called for the building of 3 million more housing units, and a $40 billion innovation fund to spur innovative housing construction. This adds to President Biden's call for a $10,000 tax credit for first time buyers and calls by the President to punish landlords who raise the rent by over 5%.

President Biden Designates the site of the 1908 Springfield Race Riot a National Monument. The two day riot in Illinois capital took place just blocks away from Abraham Lincoln's Springfield home. In August 1908, 17 people die, including a black infant, and 2,000 black refugees were forced to flee the city. As a direct result of the riot, black community leaders and white allies met a few months later in New York and founded the NAACP. The new National Monument will seek to preserve the history and educate the public both on the horrible race riot as well as the foundation of the NAACP. This is the second time President Biden has used his authority to set up a National Monument protecting black history, after setting up the Emmett Till and Mamie Till-Mobley National Monument on Emmett Till's 82nd birthday July 25th 2023.

The Department of The Interior announced $775 million to help cap and clean up orphaned oil and gas wells. The money will help cap wells in 21 states. The Biden-Harris Administration has allocated $4.7 billion to plug orphaned wells, a billion of which has already been distributed. More than 8,200 such wells have been capped since the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law passed in 2022. Orphaned wells leak toxins into communities and are leaking the super greenhouse gas methane. Plugging them will not only improve the health of nearby communities but help fight climate change on a global level.

Vice-President Harris announced plans to ban price-gouging in the food and grocery industries. This would be a first ever federal ban on price gouging and Harris called for clear "rules of the road" on price rises in food, and strong penalties from the FTC for those who break them. This is in line with President Biden's launching of a federal Strike Force on Unfair and Illegal Pricing in March, and Democratic Senator Bob Casey's bill to ban "shrinkflation". In response to this pressure from Democrats on price gouging and after aggressive questions by Senator Casey and Senator Elizabeth Warren, the supermarket giant Kroger proposed dropping prices by a billion dollars

[multifandomme]

A Dangerous Game

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha is forced to admit that her feelings for you, an escort, are far more than transactional.

Genre: Smut, (mommy kink, power dynamics, exhibitionism vibes, semi-public sex, pet names, praise kink, light degrading, strap ons, fingering), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 3k.

A/N: This is a gift for @ionlylikemarvelforthewomen as it's her favourite fic.

This piece is for day 7 of kinktober under the 'semi-public sex' prompt. This is a new and modified version of a fic I wrote in 2022.

Marvel Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Kinktober 2024 || Read on AO3

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“You’re so tense.”

A brief silence engulfed the lavish hotel room, your adept fingers digging further into the canyon that separated Natasha’s shoulder blades, softened grunts escaping her.

“Yeah,” she scoffed, her expression disgruntled due to the pain that materialised from your attempt at reducing the knots that hardened her muscles. “That’s not the only place.”

Natasha sighed loudly as you released her from your grasp, jogging her shoulders to assure that you had been steadfast in your endeavours. Over the last few months, Natasha’s visits had fluctuated to the point of concern, appearing at this same hotel room more than thrice a week. 

You couldn’t complain, Natasha a model client, respectful, obedient and left your pockets brimming with wads of cash. Knowing so little about her didn’t help stymie your overriding worry for her and for yourself, a bizarre kind of comfort surrounding you whenever her presence was near. You could not place the feeling, nor begin to describe it, though you did know that whatever it was that you had felt could only spell danger, territories that were better left unexplored.

“You know, you should probably find a better outlet than this,” you advised, the compassion that brimmed in your voice soon passed off as a mindless suggestion. “There’s only so much I can do for you, Natasha.”

Natasha surged upwards, swiftly abandoning her prior position perched on the edge of the bed, the sound of her kissing her teeth in irritation echoing out into the expansiveness of the room. The topic always seemed to incite inflammation, though you were all too wary of becoming too intertwined with a client, knowing the hardships that arose from personal experience.

You had your rules and at first, adhering to them provided no issue, though as the time passed and the frequency of your meetings grew, so did the temptation to shirk the consequences. Thus far, only two rules had withstood the test of time: no personal information that exceeded necessity and no visible markings left behind. 

Even with such boundaries in place, Natasha was undeterred, resolute in her pursuit of abandoning the latter. And when the throes of pleasure engulfed her in her entirety, her mind and desires unencumbered, she would beg, plead, do anything to convince you to reconsider your judgement. You had yet to relinquish, though you feared that one day she would reign victorious and break you, at times, you secretly hoped that she would.

“What I want is for you to do your job," she flared, frustratedly, "that is what I pay for, no?"

The smart remark almost triggered the emergence of a chuckle from you, profoundly amused by her ability to implement avoidance tactics whenever this particular topic was called into question. Instead of permitting her the delusion of her ardent denial, you decided to probe further in the hopes of collapsing her walls.

In an effortless manoeuvre, the black silk robe that shrouded your lingerie from view disintegrated into a velvety pool at your feet, Natasha’s gaze possessed with immediacy as you strutted towards her.

“Are you certain that’s all you want?” You interrogated, sultrily, your voice like honey as you attempted to distract her from the daring nature of the question. “I see the way you look at me. This isn’t just a fuck for you and you know it.”

Tenderly, you reached out to trail the soft skin of her cheek with your thumb, the gesture impeded as Natasha batted you away with intent, her guardedness rebuilding itself before you. Without a word, she travelled to the furthest corner of the room, her attention redirected to the cityscapes that lay beyond the window. An audible sigh exuded and you knew that your prodding had instilled a festering sense of doubt inside of her. 

“So what if it is more?” Natasha challenged, bluntly, the words falling from her lips as if her inner monologue had accidentally blurted its way out of her mouth, unchecked. “I know what I’m doing,” she assured, though the flickering of her eyes conveyed a distinct uncertainty, as if her lips were speaking of a truth she inherently knew she could not uphold.

The last sentence tugged a quirk from your eyebrows, a smug smile plastering itself across your face as you sauntered over, your lingerie-clad form shadowing hers from behind. Instantly, her breath hitched and the boldness that she donned only seconds prior seemed to ebb away until it had dissipated completely. Your smirk seared into the side of her neck as you attacked her pulse point with softened kisses, delicately as to activate the docility that bubbled just below the surface. 

“It’s a dangerous game that you’re playing,” you purred, sexily, your fingers creeping down to cup at her pussy, Natasha’s body tensing in surprise until she surrendered to the glimmer of pleasure that it delivered.

Natasha gasped softly, her legs shifting with heightened impatience as her thighs clamped firmly around your hand to attain further friction.

“I like dangerous games,” Natasha breathed, weakly, and you could tell from the way in which she spoke that her eyes were tight shut, a pliable state beginning its activation.

“Oh, I know, baby,” you whispered, your fingers abandoning her pussy to make quick work of her breasts, the light patronisation in your tone causing her to groan aloud. “But they’re not so fun when you lose, hm?"

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll be so good for you.”

“Kneel,” you barked, authoritatively, pleased to discover her immediate compliance, dropping to the floor without a protest nor a sound.

Natasha’s obedience could not be faulted, revelling in the way she stared intently, her beautiful green eyes glazed over as she awaited your instruction. She would ask and beseech to be debased, which often led you to wondering what she was like in her day to day life, wondered what had shaped her into the quaking mess below you. 

“Good girl,” you praised, earnestly, a hand ruffling absentmindedly through her silky locks.

“Thank you, Mommy” Natasha blushed, a feeble smile playing on her lips as her eyes averted to the floor below, a slight glint of  apprehension filling her.

“Let’s see that pretty face of yours, hm?”

Orbs of serpentine raised to meet yours, her beauty undeniable as it captivated you with no means of escape. Delicately, you thumbed the apples of her cheeks, noting how a rosy hue began to appear. The deft touches allowed no prior warning as to what would occur next, though Natasha knew, her eyes tight shut as your palm thrashed against her cheek. Scarlet tinged her cheeks with vigour, adrenaline coursing through Natasha’s veins as she simpered, devoid of thought.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she beamed, dumbly as she excitedly braced for another wrecking impact.

But, you had other plans for her.

“Open that pretty mouth for me, angel,” you instructed, flatly, a hum of approval exiting from you as she promptly abided. “I think it’s time that Mommy put it to good use, hm?”

Natasha inwardly ascended at the idea, nodding avidly with her jaw widening at your request, her tongue slipping out from her mouth. She loved to be at your disposal and her features shone with enthralment.

Roughly, you stuffed two digits into her mouth and hummed in extolment as Natasha laved them generously with saliva, swirling her tongue with passion. Her pink lips blossomed into a deep shade of crimson, swollen below her valiant endeavours. The enthusiasm dripped from her, spurring you on as you pushed in further, a spark of bewilderment flecking her stare.

“Such a good girl,” you cooed, retracting your fingers to find a string of saliva dangling, momentarily retaining connection until it fell away.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Natasha enthused, her teeth peeking out to nip softly at her lips, her appetite noticeable, burgeoning. 

“Is someone getting needy already?” You probed, knowingly, Natasha’s face flushing with sheer humiliation as she pried her eyes from you in aversion. “Tell Mommy what it is that you want.”

A faltering gulp sounded, a pause of silence prevailing until you drew her chin upward and subsequently forced her into meeting your eye line. 

“I want you to fuck me, Mommy,” Natasha divulged, shyly, her blush all but darkening as the words exited her lips. “I want you to take me where everybody can see.”

“What a filthy little slut,” you taunted, unable to bite away the smirk that had subconsciously upturned your lips, more so when you had caught Natasha in a state of utter transfixion, taken by the large windows.

The redhead’s pupils visibly dilated as the fantasies flooded in her mind, robbing her of coherence as she imagined people staring up from the city below and gawking at her nudity, studying her. Unknowingly, a desperate mewl fell from her mouth, her arousal beginning to seep against the material of her underwear.

“Take off your clothes and face the window for Mommy, princess,” you purred, the sound of your voice able to coax her from her state of entrancement. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

The eruption of hasty movement behind you signalled Natasha’s expeditious compliance with your request, barely a minute having gone by before she quietly reappeared, her exquisite form unveiled, bare. Your mouth salivated profusely at the image of her, clearing your throat as a means of regaining the concentration that had been briefly stolen from you. 

The remnants of sunset light projecting through the window seemed to encompass her physique in gold, her irises boasting a milder green as she twisted to regard you, praying that you would sate her limitless hunger.

Cautiously, you approached, slowly as if you were stalking prey, only Natasha wanted to be captured, wanted to be devoured with carnal desire. Again, you found your place behind her, the soft silhouette of your black lingerie firmly pressing up against her. Natasha’s nakedness allowed for effortless access, taking her breasts into your hands as you played roughly with them. 

Her nipples stiffened instantaneously, perhaps furthered by the slight plummet in temperature her lack of clothing had incited. But she was breathtaking, her head relaxing backwards to bruise against your clavicle, her lips in fatally close proximities.

“It feels so good, Mommy,” she complimented, despite the shakiness of her breath, her eyes settling to a close. “I want more of you, I need it. 

The encouragement that she had offered was not lost on you, and only invigorated you with a heightened sense of accomplishment. Your hand trailed downwards, snake-like, the obstruction of her underwear no longer stymying your efforts as you made immediate contact with her delicate flesh. 

What had greeted you had racked you with genuine surprise, her arousal leaking languidly as you gathered it amongst your digits. Natasha sighed in annoyance as you quickly retreated from her, though her eyes became instantly restored with anticipation when you dangled the glistening fingers before her mouth.

“You’re dripping, princess,” you whispered as you sank your fingers into her mouth to be cleaned. “What a desperate little slut and all for me.”

Natasha cried out in response, the sound ebbing out into a lustful moan the minute your hand returned to where she needed it the most. She bucked sporadically, the volume of her protests only intensifying as you continued to prolong her suffering, rejoicing in it. 

“Please, Mommy,” she pleaded, her voice no louder than a softened whisper, her energy dwindling along with her patience. “I need you inside of me.”

Her pitiful pleas rang out like music to your ears, your free hand wrapping around her from behind to secure itself around her throat. Fixed in place, Natasha’s motion was thwarted, every trace of control stolen from her. A frenzied jolt reverberated through her as she felt you align your fingers against her pussy, an all-encompassing tremor claiming her when you finally slipped inside. 

As you thrust steadily inside of her, you scattered her porcelain neck with pecks, occasionally delivering an aimless bite as she panted. The lewd sounds that emitted as your fingers buried inside of her filled the vicinity, echoing, your addiction to her only reaching new heights. And just when you suspected that Natasha was approaching an orgasm, you removed all contact from her.

“Bend over for me, angel,” you insisted, a devious expression lurking upon your features. “Let Mommy see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Natasha obliged, her cheeks hued scarlet, palms pressed to the glass of the window as she presented her exposed pussy to you. Arousal splayed the area around it, fluttering as it clenched around the absence of your fingers. The woman groaned exasperatedly as you prodded her from behind, a probing digit stuffing itself inside of her just to feel the way she constricted desperately around it. She wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, you knew that.

“Do you want to cum, princess?” You asked, mockingly, the evidence staring you in the face as she quivered lightly, her face disgruntled in displeasure at being denied. 

“Yes, Mommy,” she sobbed out, her head knocking against the glass, her shallow breaths tainting its clarity with translucent condensation. “Please, please.”

Hastily, you raced to collect her favourite toy but not before landing a quick slap against her ass, earning a squeal from Natasha. In the silence, Natasha could hear the sound of you securing the harness around you, her eyes peering around from her position as she stole a sneaky preview. You could almost see her pushing up to her tiptoes in preparation, her breasts squashed against the window for all to see. Her zeal was unrivalled.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” You praised, noticing the way she had modified her position, your hands ghosting her sides until they settled in firmly against her hipbones. 

“Yes Mommy,” Natasha acceded, delightedly, her palms spread as she gripped the window with a harsher force, readying for what was inevitable. “I’m your good girl.”

The tip of your strap on slid against her pussy as you teased her, before its entire length disappeared into her warmth. Natasha collapsed forward, saved only by the sturdiness of her arms as her breasts rocked methodically against the glass. You held her in place with an unyielding grip around the back of her neck, erratic breaths of oxygen spring from her as she adjusted to the intrusion, delighted in the sensations that it activated. 

“Oh, mhm,” Natasha moaned, shamelessly, the volume exceeding anything you had procured from her to date as she assisted you in rutting against the toy, taking it deeper than you had thought possible.

“You like that, princess?” You growled, breathlessly, tightening your grasp upon her until a brute force incurred. “Do you like it when Mommy fucks you like a whore?”

“Yes, Mommy, oh, fuck-”

With Natasha’s fiery locks wound around your fingers for leverage, you forced her closer, her body solidly against you. A wandering hand sought the apex of her thighs, pinching and rubbing at her clit as she began to convulse in your arms. 

“That’s it angel,” you encouraged, zealously.,“cum for Mommy.”

Natasha craned until her lips ghosted yours, intent on overstepping the boundaries and willing you into a kiss. For once, you did not possess the self-control to deny her, did not want to. She was angelic, the repercussions pushed so far into the back of your mind that they ceased to exist. So, you surrendered to the gravitational pull, claiming her lips as she jolted, her words stifled by your mouth as she unraveled. 

Natasha kissed with undying passion, the flames felt as soon as the contact was made. Her tongue infiltrated your mouth, sharp teeth tugging at your bottom lip as her moans were breathed into you. Abruptly, she broke the connection, staring into your eyes with an expression you could not quite fathom. 

“I like you,” Natasha blurted, her breathing still uneven, though her eyes were more alert than you had ever witnessed as they burned holes into your own, unyielding.

The tension hung in the air like thick cloud cover, an unnerving quiet whipping up and taking you under as you pondered your response to her confession. Toying with her first was always the more enjoyable option and thus, you decided to do just that.

“You like the way I fuck you,” you corrected, feigning seriousness, your gaze narrowing in order to convince her of the facade. “There’s a difference, Natasha.”

“If you don’t feel the same,” Natasha began, moving to collect her clothes from the bed, “then just say that.”

Laughter rumbled inside of you, unable to be stifled as it burst out from your throat, a hand covering your mouth to no avail. Natasha merely glared at you with fury unbridled, dejected, hurt. 

“Why are you laughing?”

You settled upon the edge of the bed, observing as Natasha willed herself into a state of fluster.

“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror, princess,” you suggested, the unexpected segue enough to pique Natasha’s curiosity, though she was still highly perplexed by the sudden redirection.

“I know I look a mess, I-”

“No,” you interjected, guiding her to the full-length mirror beside the bed and studying her features as the situation slowly ebbed out into clarity. “Look.”

Natasha stared mindlessly for a moment, her eyes dulled until she finally caught sight of what you were attempting to unearth. Her hands flew up to survey the skin of her neck, purple little bruises decorating the previously pale skin.

“You broke the rule,” Natasha gushed, wide-eyed, confused. “You marked me.”

You nodded, knowingly as you pulled her to take refuge on your lap. Her mouth was still lightly agape in shock, burning questions flocking to her mind.

“You… don’t mark clients,” Natasha remembered, the words exiting her as more of a question, as if she was confirming your knowledge of its sentiment.

A beam plastered itself upon your face, Natasha’s naivety bringing a warmth that seemed to persist. In that moment, everything seemed to fall into order, unable to take your eyes away from the ethereality of the woman in front of you. Softly, you pressed your lips against hers, hoping that the act would be enough to convey the words that you had struggled to find.

“I know,” you mused, “but I think it’s time that we both admit that we’re more than that, hm?”

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[matan4il]

I'm gonna put it as simply and blatantly as possible.

Russia in 2022 attacked another Eurovision participant and made a whole bunch of other contestant countries scared of being attacked next, after already having attacked a fellow competitor in 2008 -> Russia got banned from Eurovision

Ukraine in 2022 got attacked, had its civilians targeted intentionally, did not choose to start the war, has no record of past attacks against ESC contestants, and is not currently posing a threat to any other Eurovision participating country -> Ukraine did not get banned

Israel in 2023 got attacked, had its civilians targeted intentionally, did not choose to start the war, has no record of past attacks against ESC contestants, and is not currently posing a threat to any other Eurovision participating country -> Israel did not get banned

There isn't a double standard, except for people who insist on not following the geopolitical logic. Same ones who didn't use Ukraine's retaliation activities against Russia as justification to get Ukraine banned, but are doing that to Israel, usually with a side dish of false, hyperbolic accusations that have nothing to do with reality.

Also...

The only flags allowed are of participating countries and the pride flag. The American flag is therefore banned. The Mexican flag. The Japanese, the Korean, the Nigerian flags. The world doesn't actually revolve around Palestinians, they're not actually the ultimate victims, and honestly, it's offensive they're cast that way when there are conflicts far worse and bloodier than the current war in Gaza, not to mention it takes away attention and help from them, to make everything constantly about the Palestinians.

Meanwhile, this is supposed to be the rule. Outside the performance hall, but within the borders of the Eurovision village, a visiting Israeli comedian called Guy Hochman was assaulted for walking around with the Israeli flag. Swedish police intervened, but they didn't act against the anti-Israel protesters who attacked and spat on Guy, they stopped him from openly carrying the Israeli flag. He asked why are they not allowing it, even though the flag is of a participating country, in accordance with the rules. He was told it's too dangerous. He then asked why are Palestinian flags not being removed, if they're banned according to contest rules, and was told that in Sweden, freedom of speech is above anything else. He was also grilled about whether he's Jewish by the Swedish policemen. Why was his flag denied, then? Why was his freedom of speech not protected, why was his Jewish identity a matter for questioning?

Another thing, the Swedish singer who ended up in third place in 2011 Eric Khaled Saade went on a childish rant crying over the Palestinian flag being banned (again, as if it's the only one), and as he was invited to perform this year, he got on stage live with a kaffiyeh tied to his left hand, even though he knew that was considered political, and therefore not allowed. Once more, he whined about it as if this is specifically against Palestinians, but you know what? The dress designers wanted to have a Star of David on the dress of the Israeli singer. She's a Jewish woman, that's a Jewish symbol, so why not represent her identity? But they were told that's "political." And you know what the Israeli delegation did? Followed the rules. You won't see the Star of David on Eden's dress. When they were told not to wear the hostage pin, because that's "political"? They followed the rules. When the Israeli song writers were told that their song, expressing Israeli pain, is "too political," what did they do? Followed the rules, they changed the lyrics. And you don't hear them crying about it all over social media and the news.

Not to mention, Eric Saade had no problem kissing the ass of Israeli fans back in 2011, when he competed and needed their votes. Was his dad less Palestinian back then? By the way, Israeli fans didn't hold his identity against him, they didn't demand he be questioned about Palestinian terrorists, or what his stance is on Hamas, they didn't drag politics into it, they focused on music and culture connecting people across borders and identities (as the ESC is supposed to do), and Israel gave its 12 points in both the semi and the final to Eric Saade that year. How did he repay those fans? Campaigning to ban Israel (and therefore them) from the contest, because he's incapable of seeing them as people first, and political rivals second, or maybe even (God forbid!) not at all...

It all smells like hypocrisy to me. But we all know this post won't get anywhere near the exposure (through likes and reblogs) that the lying, self-centered, hypocritical anti-Israel posts do. Doesn't matter. I'll still be here, speaking the truth.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[vaspider]

In the Wyoming case, the women and nonprofits who challenged the laws argued that the bans stood to harm their health, wellbeing and livelihoods – claims disputed by attorneys for the state. They also argued the bans violated a 2012 state constitutional amendment saying competent Wyoming residents have a right to make their own health care decisions. As she had done with previous rulings, Owens found merit in both of these arguments. The abortion bans “will undermine the integrity of the medical profession by hamstringing the ability of physicians to provide evidence-based medicine to their patients”, Owens ruled. The abortion laws impede the fundamental right of women to make health care decisions for an entire class of people – those who are pregnant – in violation of the constitutional amendment, Owens ruled. Wyoming voters approved the amendment amid fears of government overreach after approval of the federal Affordable Care Act and its initial requirements for people to have health insurance. Attorneys for the state argued that health care, under the amendment, did not include abortion. The Republican governor, Mark Gordon, who signed the abortion laws into effect in 2022 and 2023, did not immediately return an email from the Associated Press on Monday seeking comment.

[lilacmingi]

HADES (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Hades!Hongjoong x fem!reader

Word count: 2,830

Note: This imagine is part of my Disney Villains series from 2022 on Wattpad! 😈 Also!! I have a new rule in place. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE! Reading through a series and liking the post when you’re done is fine, but don’t go through and like multiple imagines one after the next consecutively please! I don’t wanna get shadowbanned </3 if you wanna save multiple imagines to read later, like my masterlist instead!

It was a boring day in the Underworld. The flow of souls coming in was lower than usual, which meant Hongjoong didn't have much to do. His poilished, black nails tapped against the arm of his throne as he stared blankly into the flames before him.

He was bored to death.

He snapped his fingers, his two lackeys appearing in a puff of black smoke.

"You called?" Wooyoung asked, brushing his hair away from his face.

"It's a slow day." Hongjoong responded.

"We noticed." San added, suppressing a yawn.

"I was thinking we could have some fun in the mortal realm today. What do you think, boys?"

The duo shared a look, mischievous smirks tugging at their lips.

Hongjoong took that as a yes.

The three disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, appearing in the mortal realm somewhere away from the crowds. Hongjoong was quick to disguise himself in his human form. His extravagant, black attire was replaced with cream-colored robes to blend in. He looked at the two stood across from him.

"What have you got?" He asked, indicating for the two to show him their disguises.

In an instant, the pair turned into two children.

A wicked smile spread across Hongjoong's features.

"Perfect. No one ever suspects children."

"What do you want us to do, boss?" San inquired.

"Go wreak havoc. Steal something, harass the elderly, let the livestock loose in the streets." He ordered, listing off things that would cause disturbances.

"You got it." The two saluted Hongjoong before scurrying off into town leaving their boss to watch the chaos ensue.

You strode through town, perusing the different carts lined up along the dusty streets. You didn't need anything in particular, you just wanted to get out, stretch your legs, and get some fresh air.

Suddenly, you heard a commotion from somewhere behind you. You turned around to see what was going on, and when you did, two little boys ran by nearly knocking you off your feet as they did so. You stumbled a bit but was quick to regain your balance as you saw the two kids run over to a nearby fruit cart. You couldn't help but notice one of them going to steal an apple. Just when you were about to speak up, the lady running the small business began shouting at them, shooing them away. You frowned, feeling sorry for the two boys.

"Excuse me." You called out, stepping towards the fruit cart. "What's going on?"

"These two ruffians tried to steal my goods!" She spoke harshly, her voice a bit gravelly.

"They were just hungry, I'm sure."

"Lady, do you see the chaos these two have caused?" She pointed to the other vendors' carts lining the street. Some appeared to have things knocked off, the sellers trying to gather their goods out of the streets.

"I'm sure they didn't mean to. They were probably just having fun and weren't paying attention. Right?" You asked, turning to the children.

They both nodded.

You then bent down to their level, looking at the two of them. One had short, choppily cut black hair, the other longer brown hair with subtle waves. They both looked to be around the same age, maybe seven years old. You weren't too sure. Either way, you weren't going to leave them without making sure they were alright and out of trouble.

"Where are your parents?" You asked.

Neither said a word.

"Do you have parents?"

The one with brown hair nodded while the one with choppy black hair shook his head. You weren't sure what to think of that, so you chose to overlook it.

"Are you guys hungry? I'll get you something."

The two shared a glance before nodding.

You stood up to face the lady running the fruit stand.

"I'd like two apples, please."

"For these two delinquents?" She asked, harshly.

"I'm giving you business, so why does it matter who I give them to?"

The vendor pressed her lips together, knowing she couldn't possibly refuse a paying customer.

"Alright." She huffed, taking the money from me.

"Thank you." You gave her a friendly smile, picking two apples from the woven baskets on the cart and handing them to the boys.

"Thank you, Miss." The brown-haired boy smiled, his cheeks round like bread.

Hongjoong, who was watching from a distance witnessed the whole thing. He felt something in his chest when he saw how kind you were towards San and Wooyoung. It was an odd feeling he hadn't felt before—ever. He wanted to talk to you right that instant. He then stepped out of his hiding spot and began walking over.

"San! Wooyoung!" He called.

You lifted your gaze at the unfamiliar voice, your eyes landing on a man with straight, black hair. He had a prominent nose that came to a point; it was dainty and reminded you of a fairy. He hurried over to the two children, crouching down to their height.

"There you two are." He spoke.

His voice was unique. It was a bit higher than you expected, but so light and airy. You could listen to him talk all day.

"Oh. Do you know them?" You inquired.

"Yes. I'm their... older brother, actually."

"Ah. I thought they were lost so I bought them apples. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. That was very kind of you." He went quiet for a moment before piping up. "I'm Hongjoong. That's San and that's Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n." You introduced yourself.

"Nice to meet you." Hongjoong smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Miss Y/n." The boy with the choppy hair, who you now know as San, thanked you.

"Yeah. You're really nice." Wooyoung spoke up.

"Thank you, boys. You're awfully kind."

"You were so nice to my brothers, I feel like I should do something for you in return. You know, as a way to say thank you." Hongjoong spoke.

"That's alright. You don't have to do anything for me."

"I insist."

"Well, if you must."

"Would you be interested in a visit to the theater?"

"The theater?"

He nodded with a smile.

"That's a very nice offer."

"Is it something you'd be interested in?"

"I would."

"Wonderful." He beamed.

His smile was incredible. His teeth were stunning and so white. You'd never seen anyone with a smile as perfect as his.

"We could meet by the colosseum tomorrow when the sun reaches the top of that mountain." He pointed.

"That works." You nodded.

"Are you going on a date with my brother?" Wooyoung asked.

"Date?" You parroted.

You and Hongjoong both started denying it.

"No, no, no." You shook your head.

"I'm just thanking her for being nice to you two." Hongjoong clarified.

The two boys gave both of you skeptical looks.

"Alright, well we should be going." Hongjoong spoke up, pushing his brothers forward. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The next day, you met Hongjoong outside the colosseum as promised. You put on your best robes, wanting to impress the handsome man. It seemed he was thinking the same as you, because he showed up wearing nice robes as well.

"You look wonderful." He complimented.

"So do you."

"Ah. Really?" He asked, pushing his hair back.

"Yes. Very handsome." You told him.

"Shall we head inside?" He nodded towards the colosseum entrance.

"Of course."

He offered you his hand, which you gratefully took and allowed him to lead you inside.

The both of you got seated and waited for the chairs around you to fill up.

"I love coming to the theater." Hongjoong commented. "It's a nice break from work."

"What do you do?" You asked.

"Oh." He seemed caught off guard by the question. "I'm a... supervisor."

"A supervisor? What do you supervise?"

"The dead."

"Oh. So you're a coroner?"

"Yes, exactly! That's what it's called." He nodded.

"Don't you get creeped out being so close to dead bodies?"

"Well, I don't really deal with the bodies."

You gave him an odd look. "Isn't that what a coroner does?"

"Oh, um, I mean, it's not so bad. I just look at the body and document the person's time of death, so I'm not around them for too long."

"Hm." You hummed in response.

"The show's starting." Hongjoong pointed.

The two of you continued to spend time together for the next few weeks. Hongjoong took you to incredible places and did many fun and exciting things with you. It was never boring when you were with him. Always something new.

The both of you walked hand in hand as Hongjoong took you home. Your hair was adorned with flowers Hongjoong had placed in there. You had even placed a few in his locks as well. You had just gotten back from watching the sun set on a hill overlooking the city. It was the most perfect evening ever.

"Thank you for today." You told him, leaning your head over on his shoulder.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you had a good time."

"It was wonderful, as usual. You always seem to find a way to one-up the previous date."

"Oh, so these are dates now?" He asked with a smirk.

"Of course they are. That visit to the theater was a date too."

"How so?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I know you didn't just invite me to the theater to thank me for being nice to your brothers."

"Alright, you got me." He chuckled. "I needed an excuse to see you again."

"So you admit you were smitten from the start?"

"You could call it that." He smiled, fondly. "What about you?"

"I was quite taken with you too." You admitted.

"I knew it." He grinned.

"Liar." You laughed, shoving him playfully.

Your heart sank just slightly when you saw your home come into view. You always hated saying goodbye to Hongjoong, but you knew you'd be see each other again soon—you always did.

The two of you came to a stop at your front entrance.

"I don't want to leave." You told him.

He smiled a bit as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

"I know."

"Thank you again for the wonderful afternoon."

"Of course, darling." He smiled warmly, his thumb caressing your cheek, sending a rush of tingles throughout your body. "Now go get some rest."

You nodded as Hongjoong's hand fell from your face.

"Oh. There's something that I want to tell you. It's pretty important. Can you meet me at the building overlooking the botanical garden tomorrow after sunset?"

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"It's not the right time."

"And tomorrow is?" You inquired.

"Yes. So, will you meet me there?"

"Of course, Hongjoong."

"Thank you."

You stepped inside, glancing back at the charming man.

"Sweet dreams." He whispered.

You gave him a small wave before closing the door.

It took you a while to get to sleep that night, as all you could think of was what Hongjoong might want to say to you. He could want to officially ask you to be his girlfriend, that would make you really happy. Or it could be something else. You tried not to think of anything negative as you finally forced yourself to go to sleep.

You approached the building Hongjoong asked you to meet him at. Your hands were slightly clammy as you headed to the balcony in the back. The sun had gone down, bathing the scenery in its cloak of darkness. You had wondered why Hongjoong wanted to meet at night, but chose not to question it.

You admired the beautiful nighttime scene and the way the bright moon cast shadows over the trees and sculptures in the garden sitting below. It was somewhat eerie but beautiful at the same time.

"You showed." A voice spoke up.

You turned to see Hongjoong approaching.

"Of course I showed." You smiled. "I told you I would."

"Thank you."

"You said you wanted to tell me something?"

"I do." He confirmed. "Well, I also want to show you something."

You stood and waited, watching as he took in a deep breath.

"Watch this." He instructed with a smile.

He held his hand out, a rose engulfed in blue flames appearing out of thin air.

You stared at it in awe, unable to comprehend how he conjured the flower out of nothing and also why it wasn't wilting under the flames.

"How did you do—" You were cut off when you looked up to see Hongjoong standing in front of you, but he looked different—very different.

His normal black hair was now blue, matching flames of the same hue were coming off the ends of his locks. His outfit had changed as well. Instead of his usual cream-colored robes was now an odd-looking black outfit made of some sort of leather. He donned a large feathery coat on top with a black skull on his shoulder. It was nothing like you had ever seen before. The outfit wasn't the only thing that changed. His brown eyes were now covered in heavy eye makeup, black shadows smudged around his intense eyes.

His entire look was, in a word, otherworldly.

"Hongjoong?" You asked, shocked by his new appearance, unconsciously taking a step back as the rose fell from your hand.

"Y/n, just let me explain before you freak out, okay?"

You took in a deep breath, staying silent and allowing him to continue.

"I'm not actually human. I'm god of the underworld."

Your eyes widened in shock and mild horror.

I've been going on dates with the god of death? You thought in disbelief.

"I couldn't come right out and tell you because I didn't want you to run away. I wanted you to get to know me for me."

Hearing him say that made you pause for a moment. He's right. You probably would have ran away if he came out looking like he did.

"I'm still the same Hongjoong, I just look a little different is all."

He had a point. It's not like he's some monster. He's still Hongjoong.

"So, San and Wooyoung aren't your brothers?" You asked.

"No." He shook his head. "They're my henchman."

"And you're not a coroner." You said it like a statement.

"No."

You let out a short sigh. "I can't be mad at you. You had good intentions. Also, you did kinda tell the truth about your profession. You do supervise the dead."

"That I do." He chuckled. "So, does this change the way you feel about me?"

You smiled softly. "No."

Hongjoong took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out. His jewelry-clad fingers glimmered under the moonlight as he waited for you grab hold of his hand.

"Your nails." You commented, glancing at his black colored fingernails.

"You like them?"

You nodded. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, sweetheart, things in the Underworld are a bit different than they are here."

"I imagine so." You said, glancing at Hongjoong's outfit.

"Maybe I can show you one day."

"You can take me there?" You asked.

"Of course. I'm king, so I make the rules."

You chuckled.

Hongjoong pulled you close, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. Your breathing quickened as you realized how close your faces were.

"Will you be my queen, Y/n?"

"What?" You choked out.

"Not now, but someday. Will you be my queen and rule the Underworld by my side?"

"That's a difficult question to answer at the moment."

"Then let's start with girlfriend first. How's that?"

"Good. That I can handle." You nodded with a light chuckle.

Hongjoong smiled, his thumb gently ghosting over your bottom lip.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice so gentle it made your heart flip.

All you could do was nod your head.

The gap between your mouths was closed instantly as Hongjoong's lips met yours, nearly taking your breath away. His hands briefly squeezed your sides as his lips pressed harder against your own.

"You're so beautiful, darling." He murmured before diving back in for another kiss, his hands roaming your waist as yours stayed firmly planted on his shoulders.

You pulled away, gazing into his eyes.

"I don't want this night to end." You admitted, your fingers playing with the black feathers of Hongjoong's coat.

"It doesn't have to. We can always take a walk through the garden or gaze at the stars."

"That sounds romantic... but first I'd like to try that kiss again." You grinned.

"As you wish, my dear."

When Hongjoong asked you about ruling the Underworld with him, it caught you off guard. However, the idea of being by his side made you happy and the thought of it was rather appealing. Maybe one day you would accept his offer. As of right now, you'd like to take things slow and just have a normal relationship—well, as normal as a relationship with the god of the Underworld could be.

Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[vitalverstappen]

Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part one)

summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in reuniting with your childhood enemy? You're in for a wild season.

pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, child hood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader

warnings: imposter syndrome, mentions of Jos Verstappen, borderline anxiety attack, swearing, drinking, allusions to sex, lots of pining, use of y/n

a/n: This was written with the 2022 season in mind. I also know nothing about the Belgian/Dutch school systems so I took what I know about the American/UK systems. Hopefully it makes sense! Some of the race results are inaccurate to fit the storyline. Sue me.

word count: 20.3k

masterlist

Max Verstappen. A name you loathed as a child. He was always on edge, striving to be the best in anything he did. It didn’t matter if it was a karting race or a math quiz, he had to be number one. Max knew what it took to succeed in life and he spent day in and day out making sure that he was ahead of the game.

He was an overachiever to say the least. 

Y/n L/n, on the other hand, was relaxed. She went with the flow of life, truly only trying when it was necessary, or if it interested her. The girl wasn’t lazy, she just knew that school wasn’t going to help her in the long run. She was a rule breaker, pushing everything and everyone to their limits. 

They were on opposite ends of any spectrum. 

Age 4

Art class was always your favorite time of the day. It gave you the freedom to express yourself exactly how you wanted - no rules to follow, no one hovering over your shoulder criticizing you. 

It was finger painting day, which you adored. An excuse to get messy, what child didn’t love that? Your fingers swirled across the page as the world in your head came to life with the paint. A castle in the distance as the prince and princess fell in love in the center. 

“What is that?” Max asked from the table across from yours 

A toothy grin formed on your face as you turned the page around to show him. “It’s a princess!” 

A laugh came from Max as he took in your painting “A princess? That’s so lame” 

Quickly, you turned your painting back around, as a rosy glow formed on your cheeks. “What are you painting?” 

Max held up his paper with the same goofy grin you had on moments earlier. A single green blob was on the page. “It’s a racecar!” 

“That doesn’t look like a racecar” You said as you grabbed some paint “ Let me help!” 

“No!” 

Max was too slow with his words as you took the paper from him. He could only watch in horror as you glided your paint covered fingers across the page. 

“There. A race car!” You exclaimed as you passed the paper back to the boy

“You ruined my painting!” He cried “Teacher! Teacher!” 

And that’s how you found yourself being lectured by your art teacher about how you needed to respect other people’s belongings. 

Age 8

As the two of you reached age 8, you each had found sports to fall in love with. In Max’s instance, he was forced into karting by his dad. You, on the other hand, fell in love with skateboarding on your own. Months were spent begging your parents to get you one after you saw a group of kids at a skatepark. For Christmas, your parents finally broke and got you a board to learn. 

Many hours were spent with one of your parents on the asphalt as they helped you learn how to skate properly. After what felt like decades with one of them holding your hand as you pushed off from the ground, you finally got the confidence to ride by yourself. 

A puffy blue jacket was wrapped around your body as you stood on your driveway. A chill rushed through your body as you strapped your bright pink helmet on your head before grabbing your board. 

Hours were spent practicing riding the board in straight lines, going back and forth on the driveway. Some runs were better than others, but you could feel yourself getting better as the day went on. 

The sound of engines quickly filled the neighborhood, a telltale sign that the Verstappens were doing their karting practice. Moments passed and the roar grew louder. It was a matter of time before they ended up on your street. 

Sure enough, you could see the Verstappen half siblings racing each other. The larger of the two, Max, was far ahead from his younger sister. You weren’t expecting Max to stop when he got to your house. 

“Skateboarding?” He asked over the sound of the kart “Isn’t that for boys?” 

You shook your head as you hopped back on your board “It’s for girls too!” 

“Yeah, and unicorns are real” He shot back. You couldn’t tell if you imagined it, or if Max truly had laughed at you as he revved his engine again before taking off, leaving you behind in a cloud of smoke. 

Age 12 

By the time you reached year eight, Max had been competing in national karting championships, leaving your interactions to be few and far between. You had continued your love of skateboarding and art, leaning into photography. 

Somehow you ended up in ownership of a cheap, small point and shoot camera. Regardless if the photos never turned out clear or if the battery ran out at the most inopportune times, you fell in love with the camera. It became a part of you, as your friends and family found it odd when you didn’t have the device in your hands. 

Your best friend Lindsay and her family had dragged you to the local karting track. Her brother was in the race, and Lindsay wanted someone to keep her company other than her parents. 

It was a rainy Sunday morning, but neither you or Lindsay cared. Rain boots splashed through puddles and mud around the track, as the two of you played games during the warmup laps. As the race drew nearer, the clouds began to part. 

“Lindsay!” You called, getting your friend's attention “I wanna take some photos!” 

“Okay!” She yelled back 

You quickly ran to get your camera, its bright red color sticking out of your bag. After you grabbed it, you ran back to where Lindsay was. She struck a pose with a toothy grinned smile. 

Click!

Giggles filled the air as the two of you looked at the photo. Your eyes were taken off the camera screen as the karts whizzed by. The karts captivated you, leaving you wanting more as they drove away.

You darted over to the fence, barely being able to stick your camera lens through the holes. Impatience grew as you waited for the karts to drive by again. A minute passed. Then another. Then the engines roared louder as you clicked your camera a few times. 

Once the karts rushed past, you jumped back from the fence. The screen showed the photos you had just taken. They were a bit blurry, but if anything it helped capture the speed.

When the race finished, you and Lindsay darted over to Parc ferme where Lindsay’s brother and his kart were. From a distance, you were able to watch as he climbed out of his kart, right behind the second place sign. 

Click! Click! 

The first place kart pulled up to its respective spot, and you couldn’t help but stare. Whoever was in the kart was a natural. All eyes were on him as he got out of his kart and threw his arms in the air in celebration.

Click! Click! Click!

The mysterious kart driver’s head whipped around when he heard the sound of your camera. When he finally found you, his helmet tipped in confusion, before he began taking it off. 

“Did you just take a photo of me?” The boy asked. Once the helmet was off of his head, regret filled your head. You should have never agreed to coming. 

“Uh yeah, Max. I did.” You answered

“Why?” He asked, causing you to shrug in response. You didn’t have a real answer.

“I just wanted to. I didn’t realize it was you” You spoke “Do you want to see?” 

“No.” Max answered bluntly before walking away. Typical. 

As the podium happened, you couldn’t help but to snap a few more photos of the top three. You hated that Max was the subject of most of the photos you took, but the excitement you got from snapping the raw emotions on everyone’s face made it worth it.

Age 16

When you reached sixteen, that love of photography grew, and you found a new love for graffiti, much to Max’s dismay. 

The sun was setting on the skatepark you had been practicing your tricks at all evening. When the lot finally emptied out of families and other teens, the sound of cans clanking filled the air as you dropped your backpack. You were never one to carry any books around, so you figured you’d make the bag useful for paint. 

You had been eyeing a blank spot on the base of a ramp the entire evening. After picking out the colors you needed for this project, you flipped your hood up and put on a mask, trying to hide your identity, and got to work. 

The sun was long set by the time you finished the base layers with only some of the details. The harsh lighting of the street lamp was your only help. Graffiti definitely took time, but it was time you wouldn’t spend anywhere else. Your artistry was stopped when you heard a familiar lisp. 

“Uh excuse me, you shouldn’t be doing that” The voice said. 

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Max. His intonation was recognizable from miles away. What did puzzle you though, was what he was doing out so late. 

Regardless, you ignored him, hoping that he would just mind his business and go away. But that’s not how Max worked. 

“You need to stop. That’s vandalism” He said again 

“It’s none of your business, Max. Go away” You finally spoke, turning around 

In the light of the streetlamp, you could see Max’s eyebrows furrow. He was along the sidewalk, not too close to you, but close enough to roughly make out his features. 

“Y/n?” He asked “What are you doing out so late?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Verstappen. You’re never in town anymore” You said, tossing the can of red paint into your bag before picking up the light blue.

“I was out for a run. I have the week off from racing” He explained before his eyes left yours and back to the art behind you. “You do graffiti?”  

“And still doing photography.” You added “I’ll swing by and take some photos of this place in the morning” 

“You’re going to get in trouble” He blurted out. Some things never change.

A laugh escaped your lips as you turned back to your art, spraying on the light blue in the shape of a ghost. “That’s why I’m doing it at night. Fewer people around, less likely to get caught” 

“But you got caught. I see you doing it right now. I could call the cops.” He suggested 

“Be my guest.” You scoffed as you turned back to him “They have no proof it was me except your eyes. There’s no security here at all. No cameras or anything” 

Max opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He knew you were right. He would be the only witness, and you knew the police didn’t go solely off of that. Checkmate. 

He shook his head “Whatever. It better look good” He said as he started his run again 

“It’s not like you’re gonna be around here again anyway” You yelled after him before turning back to your painting of PacMan and his ghosts. 

The police sirens never did fill the air that night. 

You didn’t realize it at the time, but you were right that Max would rarely be around the town. While you barely graduated from grade school and dropped out after your first semester of university, Max broke onto the Formula One scene as the youngest driver in history. 

As you got older, you found yourself going out for spray painting adventures less frequently. You still loved the art of it, but turned to more legal ways of expressing it - by putting it on canvas. When you did put down the cans, you opted for a camera to fill its place. The point and shoot camera you got years ago turned into a high quality film one, which slowly phased into a DSLR. You adored your film cameras and loved being able to process your own photos, but digital photos truly captured your heart. 

You reignited your passion for sports photography from when you were younger. Any chance to photograph a sport, you jumped at it. Whether it was motorsports, soccer, or ice hockey, your favorite place to be was behind the camera, capturing the raw emotion of the athletes.

Age 24 // Sakhir, Bahrain 

Drills whirled as you walked down pit lane, each team perfecting their pit stop routines. You couldn’t help but stare as the team worked like a unit - moving in one singular motion. 

The first day in the paddock was overwhelming to say the least. There were so many new faces you had been introduced to, along with many rules that Annalese had word vomited at you. It was all hard to keep track of. 

You adjusted the collar of the bright red Ferrari polo that was underneath your camera strap. After countless rigorous interview rounds and portfolio submissions, the team finally offered you a spot on their photography staff. While you had loved jumping from sport to sport in the past, you were finally glad to have a home in Formula One. 

Both Charles and Carlos gave you a quick wave as you passed by the Ferrari garage. You had met them during the preseason meetings back at headquarters, and both boys welcomed you to the family with open arms. Annalease had mentioned you’d be working more with Charles, as he was your assigned driver, but there would always be opportunities to snap photos of Carlos. 

“And to our other side is the Red Bull garage.” She said as the two of you walked towards the blue terminal. She was finishing up your tour of pit lane, after starting from the very back of the stretch. 

You had expected the garage to be mostly empty, as you saw most of their team heading back to the Energy Station. A few engineers were left tinkering with the cars, getting ready for the first testing session. But a familiar blonde was standing in the middle of his garage, analyzing his machine. 

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him, but you didn’t expect it to be on your first day. Years had passed since you last saw him - eight to be exact. Just like you had, Max grew up. His blonde hair was a little bit longer, but still just as neat as it was growing up. He had filled out his body more, his bobble head now looking normal sized. 

Max must’ve felt someone watching him, as his head snapped up from whatever he was looking at on his car. He looked around his garage before finally finding you outside of it.

“Y/n L/n?” Max asked as his eyes blinked a few times, clearly not believing what he saw. 

“Max” You replied, confirming it was in fact you. 

“Do you two know each other?” Annalese asked, her eyes moving from you to Max, and back to you.

“Yeah, uh, we were childhood…” You trailed off, not sure how to label your distaste for Max

“Classmates. We were in grade school together” The driver spoke. He walked from his spot beside his car towards the entrance to the garage, stopping only a few feet away from where you and Annalese were. “What are you doing here?” 

The camera in your hand seemed to grow heavier as you lifted it. “Photography. Ferrari hired me for the season” You explained, Max’s ears perking up in response. 

“Yeah, she’s the best one we’ve had in a while.” Annalease said before patting you on the shoulder, “Well I’ll leave the two of you alone to catch up”

You opened your mouth to protest both of her statements, but by the time you figured out how, she had disappeared into the Ferrari garage next door. Max was still looking at you as you turned your head back to him. As quickly as you met his eyes, you lost them as yours searched the area looking for something to talk about. 

When your eyes landed on his car, you spoke. “So number one, huh?” 

“Yeah, it’s still kind of unreal” He admitted, looking back at his car before turning back to look at you. You could tell Max was analyzing you, just as you did to him before he noticed your presence on pit lane. “So Ferrari photographer, huh?” 

A small smile crept onto your lips as you moved your camera away from your chest, revealing the team logo. “Yeah, it was a big step from what I’ve done in the past, but I hope it was the right one.” 

Max opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by one of his engineers. He turned to face the garage before looking back at you. “I gotta go. Last minute stuff before testing. I’ll see you around”

“I’ll see you around” You repeated before the two of you turned, making your way to your respective garages. 

Melbourne, Australia 

The early sunrise crept through your blinds, signaling it was time to get up. While you didn’t have much to do until media day tomorrow, you wanted to take advantage of traveling all around the world. 

After freshening up and changing into your bright red windbreaker, you creaked open your hotel door. It was still early, and you did not want to be the reason why the rest of the team woke up grumpy. The door shut silently behind you as you turned to find the elevators. 

“What are you doing up?” You heard, causing you to jump out of your skin. Down the hall was Max, leaving his hotel just as you were. 

“And what are you doing going around scaring people who are getting up?” You asked as you walked down the hall towards him and the elevators. 

He shrugged “I didn’t mean to. But seriously, no one except me is usually up this early. What are you doing out?”

“Going sightseeing.” You answered. You could hear the hum of the elevator from behind the doors. “What are you doing?” 

“Morning run,” He answered. “Why are you going sightseeing? It’s just a race weekend”

“Yeah, and it’s just my first time on the other side of the world” You chuckled. “How many times have you been to Melbourne?” 

“Uh I think six now?” He answered, though it sounded more like a question

The elevator dinged as the doors parted ways. Max followed you into the car as you hit the lobby button. 

“Six times, and how many times have you taken the opportunity to explore?” You asked. He was silent, the stare at the wall told you everything you needed to know. “Exactly.” 

Max was silent for a moment before finally admitting “I just never really knew where to go” 

“Come with me” You suggested, catching yourself off guard at your own idea. He despised you as a kid, there was no chance he would even think of saying yes. Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at you. 

“What?” He asked, confused 

You had every opportunity to say literally anything else, forget that you even thought about hanging out with him. But there was something about the driver, maybe it was the glint in his eye, that prompted you to repeat “Come with me. See the city with me.” 

Max had never been one to cover his emotions, but standing there in the elevator with him, you had no idea what he was thinking. Seconds felt like hours as you waited for his response.

“Fine” He sighed as the elevator opened to the lobby “I can postpone my run a little bit.” 

You couldn’t help but to crack a small smile as the two of you walked out onto the streets of Melbourne. The phone in your hands guided you down the block to your destination. 

“Where are we even going?” Max asked, trailing behind you slightly “You better not be leading me somewhere sketchy”

“Don’t worry, I’m not. We’re going to graffiti alley” You told him. It had been a place you had dreamed of visiting ever since you started spray painting. 

Max stopped in his tracks, a new worry spread across his face. “Graffiti alley? Are you…?” His voice trails off as his eyes glance to your bag. He knew you were always one to express yourself through artwork, but he refused to be linked to any of it. 

“What? No. I mostly paint on canvas now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to cover anyone else’s work.” You answered 

Max didn’t know what to think. It had been years since he had spent more than five minutes with you, and most of that time was spent arguing or trying to annoy the hell out of you. But there he was, taking in the sight of you navigating through the hustle and bustle of Melbourne. You had grown up, just like he had, but unlike his wavering admiration for driving, your dedication to the arts never faltered. As you admired and captured the artwork spray painted along the brick of the buildings in the alleyway, he found his eyes landing on you more often. 

======

Race day could have gone better. While Charles finished on the topstep of the podium, both Carlos and Max were forced to retire. When the cars weren’t speeding past you on the track, you couldn’t help but to look at the photos you had taken earlier in the race. They were good but none of them truly stood out to you. 

Once the race concluded, you sprinted down pit lane towards parc ferme, where you happened to run into Max. 

“Hey! I’m sorry about the car. I’m sure you’ll get it next time” You said

“Yeah, I’m sure. But next time I’m not exploring the city with you” He replied, his voice lacking any emotion

As much as you wanted to ask him what he meant, you knew you had a job to do. Instead of pestering the man, you simply shrugged and continued your laboring sprint down to the cars. 

Miami, USA

Just like all those years ago, Max was right. 

The next time the twenty drivers met on the grid was Imola, where he finished on top of the podium. And sure enough, he did it without exploring the town with you. He was able to sneak through the paddock in Italy without seeing you once. It helped that neither of the Ferrari boys made it onto the podium with him.

But Miami was a different story. It was the first time Formula One made a stop in the 305, so it was no surprise that the media wanted to cover every step that each of these drivers took. Luckily for you, your job wasn’t with McLaren. You swore to have seen those boys in bedazzled crop tops and whispering to the tarmac with James Corden. Your job was just to cover Charles, something you’ve done all season. Unfortunately for you, when Charles wasn’t in the Ferrari garage, there was a high chance he was yapping to Max.

Charles had excused himself into the motorhome for a moment, leaving you and Max alone in the paddock. 

“Congrats on Imola” You said as soon as your coworker disappeared. “Shame you didn’t get to see the city. it was gorgeous” 

“Yeah, I had a lot of pre race prep to do.” He claimed. The glint in his eyes said otherwise. “But thanks, it was good to be back on the podium. It was way too long.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t you win in Saudi Arabia?” 

Max chuckled before taking a sip of the Red Bull that was in his hand “I did. But still, it’s been way too long.” 

It was no secret that Max held himself to an extremely high standard. Even back in his karting days, you knew that if he didn’t win, he’d be training bright and early the next day. But you had a feeling there was something more to it that Max only let on through the way his expression hardened after the stifled laugh. 

It took everything in you to bite your tongue. The urge to pester him about what he really truly meant lumped in your throat, but you quickly swallowed it back down when you heard Charles leaving the motorhome. 

======

The Ferrari garages were buzzing as both of their drivers locked out the front row, and you were sure to capture the smiles on everyone’s faces going into the race. 

The hot Miami sun beat down on your neck as the smell of burning rubber filled the air. From the video screen you had seen Max had overtaken Carlos, giving you no surprise when you spotted his blue Red Bull creeping behind the Ferrari in first. 

Following in the footsteps of the other photographers, you lifted your camera to your face as the engine roars grew ever so slightly. As the cars made their way around the bend, you, along with the rest of the photographers, captured the battle in front of you.

Charles had put on a show defensively through the first eight laps, giving you plenty of photos that told the story of the fight. As the race egged on though, it was clear that Max was in the faster car. 

By the time you got to pit lane, Max had already crossed the finish line. However he was so far ahead it took a few more seconds to even get sight of Charles and Carlos behind him. When you did, one of the engineers helped you lean out of the pit fence to capture the moments the teammates crossed the finish line. 

Both the Red Bull and the Ferrari garages had a new life to them as all four of the drivers finished in the top four. Along with the engineers, you sprinted down to Parc ferme to celebrate with the sea of red. 

Sweat dripped down your forehead as you finally reached the end of pit lane. Annalese stationed herself by the “3” sign on the right side of Parc ferme, while you squatted by the “2”. As all three cars pulled into their respective spots, camera clicks and cheers filled your ears.

======

Although the two teams were rivals on the track, off of it the teams rarely had bad blood. The Grand Prix after party was no different. Most of your night was spent with Annalese, Charles, and Carlos, but you occasionally found yourself mingling with the other drivers team staff. 

As the night drew on and more drinks filled your system, you could feel the effects of the liquor take place. While the first few drinks you had filled your body with a sense of euphoria, the crash that happened after having more wasn’t worth the high. 

You had excused yourself from the Ferrari group, and you found yourself a secluded booth in the club as your heart sank. It had been at least a few years since you last felt the churning of your stomach, the echoes of your former friends filling your head. 

What were you doing in a club in Miami with a bunch of racecar drivers? This wasn’t the place for you. You should be back in your hometown barely scraping by as everyone around you fulfilled their dreams. You shouldn’t be here. 

The club around you moved in slow motion as you drowned in your thoughts. Every time you thought you were reaching the surface, another wave crashed down and filled your lungs. 

A body sat down across the table from you, but you couldn’t find a way to look up. A muffled voice droned on, though you couldn’t attach a name to either.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand on yours that you snapped out of the fog you were in. Max was sitting across from you, with his hand holding yours. His eyes were intense as he looked at you, genuine concern painted all over his face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked

You shifted in your seat, softly nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine” Your voice wavered more than you would’ve liked.

Max picked up on it as he argued a simple “No you’re not. I’m walking you back to the hotel” 

Before you could protest and claim you were fine, Max had already stood up, taking your hand with him. He led you through the crowd out to the humid Miami night. He respected you enough to not ask what was wrong, but giving you the space to talk if need be.

Neither of you said a word as you walked the few blocks to the hotel, but the silence was enough. His hand never left yours as he navigated the city, eventually leading you to the corner the hotel towered on. 

A thank you left your lips as he walked you to your door. You unlocked the door and began to walk in as Max went on his way to his own. The thoughts from the club still lingered in your mind as you watched him leave. Exhaustion from the long day mixed with your foggy state of mind engulfed you.

“Do you think I belong here?” You asked the man down the hall. Max stopped and turned around to face you.

“Well, do you think you do?” He asked, retracing his footsteps back to your door.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned up against the cold door frame. “Honestly? I don’t know.” 

Max simply pushed open the cracked door, guiding you inside. You didn’t need to be stone cold sober to figure out what he was saying. Disappearing to the bathroom, you changed out of your little black dress into an oversized Ferrari hoodie and lounge shorts.  He was sitting on the edge of your bed, his eyes lingering on you as you joined him. 

The bed was softer than you remembered, but your senses were still fuzzy. 

“I’m not meant to be here” You blurted out. “That’s why I was out of it at the club, just getting in my own head.” 

Max was quiet as he took in your words. He knew better than to chime in, you needed to rant, and he was going to give you the space to do so, though he couldn’t wrap his head around why you chose him of all people.

“It’s hard, y’know? Seeing all your friends graduating from university and getting real careers. I tried it - couldn’t even make it through the first semester though. Don’t know why I thought I could do it when I barely graduated grade school” You admitted, running your hand through your hair as you talked

It may have been the drinks you had, but you could’ve sworn Max looked at you with a sense of pity. Even with balancing the challenges that karting brought, he had always been the top of the class, acing every subject that was thrown at him. 

“You still have a real career though” Max finally spoke “You’re doing photography for the most well known team in Formula One. People would kill to have your job”

A scoff left your mouth as you laid back into your bed, allowing the plush mattress to consume you. “Try telling my friends that.” 

Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face you “Do they not support you?” 

As much as you loved your friends, they were confused as to why you would want to abandon traditional schooling. They constantly doubted your talent, and ultimately thought running away to join F1 was silly. 

“It's complicated” You paused. “They’re happy I’m living my dream right now, but they just don’t understand why it’s my dream.”

Max couldn’t help but chuckle, causing you to sit up. “Sorry, it’s not funny, just a little something I didn’t think you’d be able to relate to.” 

While you didn’t know much about the Verstappen family,not that you tried to know anything, you were aware that Jos was a former Formula One driver. You were clueless about his record, or if he even won a race, but you deduced he wasn’t a World Champion. 

Before you could ask what he meant, Max spoke again “I do think you belong here though” 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you asked “You do?” 

He nodded, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Yeah, I do. I’ve uh… seen a few of your photos on the Ferrari socials and I think they’re incredible.” 

“Really?” You asked, your eyes meeting his 

Max nodded “Really. The way you captured the fight between Charles and I today was insane.” 

“Thank you, Max. It’s just hard when there’s so many other talented and more experienced photographers all around.” 

His hand moved from your shoulder down to your hip, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him. “If you weren’t this good at photography, you wouldn’t be here. F1 is for the best of the best, regardless of the job” 

A smile crept on your lips as you took in Max’s words. Once again, he was right. If you weren’t a great photographer, you wouldn’t have the job you do. A soft “thank you” escaped your lips before a yawn shortly followed. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed”

Monte Carlo, Monaco

Since that night in Miami, Max had been friendly.

The two of you had exchanged numbers in Spain, just in case you had another onset. Though you hadn’t felt the need to reach out, Max made sure you were comfortable in the paddock.

Whenever he saw you, he would go out of his way to say hi and catch up. Even if he was preoccupied and couldn’t say anything to you, he would make sure that he gave you a wave. You found him walking down pit lane more than usual, his eyes usually dancing around the Ferrari garages, as if he was looking for something, or rather someone. 

And when he did find you in the garage, you knew you were in for at least a thirty minute conversation. Topics ranged from his cats to any recent artworks you’ve done. Max insisted that it was because the two of you were “garage neighbors” and he wanted to make you feel welcome in the paddock. Just two childhood enemies slowly getting to know each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Though as the days in the paddock wore on, you found yourself looking forward to the interactions with Max. His visits were one of the only constants in the craziness of a race weekend. 

“What was that all about?” Charles asked as he watched Max leave his garage for the third time that day. 

“Oh nothing,” You answered, a small smile forming on your lips as you grabbed your camera from the table it had been sitting on “Just Max Veryappen doing his thing.”

Charles laughed, allowing you to snap a beautiful photo of the Monegasque. “He’s started ranting to you too? Good luck soldier” 

As you worked more with Charles, the more you found that you were alike. Both of you had an appreciation for the arts, and now were the victims to what the fans called “maxplaining”. 

“It’s not that bad” You replied, crouching down to get a good angle of Charles’ car. “He’s a nice guy.” 

The only sounds came from the clanking of metal in Carlos’ garage next door and the clicks of your camera. The silence was comfortable, both you and Charles knowing there was no bad blood about either of you choosing not to talk. 

“Waaiiit a second” Charles started, the wheels in his head turning slowly. “I thought you and Max hated each other as kids. How did you get to this?” 

A groan escaped your mouth, a result of the question and your knees flaring up as you stood up. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask” 

You recounted the events of that night in Miami, excluding your bout of imposter syndrome, playing it off as you being “out of it”. Charles listened intently as you told your story, a smirk forming on his lips as you finished. 

“So let me get this straight: Max willingly left the club early to walk you back to your hotel?” He asked 

“Yeah, that sums it up” You shrugged 

“And now he’s being all friendly and yapping your ears off multiple times a day?” He asked 

“Yes” You answered “Charles what are you getting at?” 

“He totally likes you” He said, his smirk from earlier now turning into a full blown grin

“What? Ew. No.” You physically had to take a step back from the driver, as if he was Max. “Max is just a friend.” 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that” Charles spoke as he left the garage, knowing he was running late for a meeting

======

The race could not have been worse if you tried. From a front row lockout being torn away by multiple delays - including a red flag - and poor strategy decisions, the best Charles could do was fourth.

Rainwater sloshed in your shoes as you climbed the stairs to the paddock club. Fans were huddled inside to escape the rain during the third delay of the day. Any attempts to capture photos were futile as your camera lens was littered with raindrops. 

“I just know both of them are fuming down there,” Annalese said as you joined her on the balcony that overlooked pit lane. The two of you watched both Ferrari cars pull into their garages as the red flag waved. 

“Oh my god yeah, this was not how Charles was expecting his home race to go.” You replied, finally choosing to cap your lens

“The poor guy can’t catch a break,” She agreed

“And I know for a fact Max is down there throwing a fit. He always does when something doesn’t go his way.” You laughed motioning to the Red Bull garage. The image of  the driver complaining about the weather or claiming that Mick can’t drive caused you to shake your head. 

“Speaking of Max, what’s he been doing lurking around Ferrari?” Annalese asked

“Did Charles tell you to ask me about this? He was on my ass yesterday,” You joked “But it’s nothing. Max and I have just become friends. That’s all” 

“Oh really?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows 

“Will you stop?” You replied, a smile on your lips as you playfully flicked your boss’ arm. “There is nothing going on. I promise” 

“Well if there is, you better be the first one to tell me” She said, poking your side 

You quickly swatted her finger away, “You’ll be the first one to know.” 

While you didn’t get the chance to make it to the podium celebration, Max made it his mission to see you after the race. After scoping out the garage next door, he found you leaving the Ferrari motorhome, prepping to go back to the hotel for the night. 

“Hey y/n,” He said as you walked out into the night 

Your ears perked up as the sound of your name and your eyes landed on the Red Bull driver that stood at the bottom of the stairs.“Oh hey Max. Congrats on the podium” 

“Thanks” He said, a grin forming “It was a shitty race, but somehow managed a Red Bull double podium. How’s Charles been?” 

It was no secret that the Monegasque was always hard on himself, especially when driving through the grandstands he saw built every year as a kid. Just like any other driver, he wanted to win, and when a win slips from his grasp, he takes it personally.

“He’s uh, okay” You said, the memory of you consoling the driver replaying in your mind. “You probably know how he is better than anyone”

“He’s a tough kid, I’m sure he’ll be fine” Max assured you 

Relief washed over you when you realized he was heading the same way you were. The two of you made your way through the empty paddock, as most of the workers had left hours ago. Times like this made you thankful for street races, as your hotel was only a few blocks away. 

“Are you going out to celebrate tonight? I overheard Carlos saying he was going to Jimmy’z” You said 

Max shook his head “After how long today took? No. I’m going home and spending some time with my cats. What about you? Are you joining the team?”

“After what happened in Miami? No.” You laughed, though Max knew it wasn’t a joke. “I have a nice date with my bed, room service, and some shitty romcom” 

“Oh how romantic” Max joked, though secretly thanking the heavens you had no other plans. As he got to know you over the past few races, he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with you. 

“Shut it Verstappen.” Daggers shot from your gaze as you spoke, though you still had a smile on your lips “It’s not like I have anything else to do” 

A strange feeling curdled in Max’s stomach as he processed your words. 

“Come with me then.” Max blurted out without thinking, causing your head to snap towards him, surprise in your eyes. You weren’t sure if you heard him right. There was no way Max Verstappen invited you over to his place. 

“I’m sure Jimmy and Sassy would love to meet you. We can order takeout and watch your romcoms or whatever” Max continued, his eyes softening.

“Come with you?” You asked, taken back by his hospitality

“Yeah, you can meet the cats and show me the photos you took today,” Max said, motioning to the camera bag that was slung over your shoulder

“If you insist, though I don’t have any photos of you if that’s what you’re looking for” You said as you shook your head

“Fine by me” Max said as he led you off the smooth pavement of the paddock to the bumpy cobblestone streets of Monte Carlo.

Spielberg, Austria

The Red Bull Ring was scary. 

The second you entered the paddock, the feeling of a target being painted on your back lingered. Not that you did anything to deserve the feeling, the bright red of your shirt was enough to prompt the remarks. 

Somehow, it could have been worse. The words thrown at you were nothing compared to what Charles and Carlos had to endure. Mentions of their families, friends, and other loved ones filled your ears as you followed the duo down the paddock and into the Ferrari hospitality. 

“God that was brutal” Carlos said once the doors were fully closed 

“Are you guys okay?” You asked, your eyes darting back and forth between them. Normally the yelling you heard when clocking in for work were terms of endearment, not hoping for their downfall.

Charles ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed “Yeah, Austria is always tough with the fans. It’s nothing new” 

“Gotcha. I’m here if you need anything” You said, though your eyes darted to the doors the three of you just walked through. “Except now. I gotta go run to the garage” 

You could hear the two teammates laugh as you exited the building, finding yourself back in the thick of the commotion. Once out of the heat of the “fans”, you found a quiet spot off to the side of the Ferrari motorhome and took out a pad of paper from your bag. 

It wasn’t a complete lie that you had to go to the pits - there were always photos to be taken no matter what time of day. But you had a slightly different task that you wanted to accomplish before getting yelled at by the mechanics for getting in their way. 

Ferrari had announced that they would be doing a special livery for the Italian Grand Prix this year. While it wasn’t uncommon for the team to slightly deviate from the solid red paint for their home race, it was special that they made it a contest. All employees were allowed to submit an entry, and the best one would be brought to life on the car. 

So, on your notepad you sketched out the shape of the Formula One car, practically by memory. You had tried a few different ideas since the contest was announced, ranging from the Italian flag to all black, but none of them ever seemed just right. 

You scribbled away at a new concept, choosing to play into the yellow and touches of green in the Ferrari logo. With every stroke of the colored pencil, you would move your head back to take a look at your work. And with every stroke, you hated the livery design more and more. It didn’t help that it looked less and less like a Ferrari car and more and more like Senna’s helmet. 

It eventually got to the point where the design was so outlandish, you wanted it in the trash. Crumpling up the paper, you aimed for the waste bin a few feet away, only for it to hop off the rim and land on the pavement. 

A groan escaped your lips as you realized your error in judgment. Before you could stand up to take care of the litter, a pair of dark blue and white shoes stood next to it. 

“Need some help?” A lisp asked. Sure enough, Max stood next to the trash can, bending over to pick up the crumpled paper. “Are you trying to pick up basketball as a hobby now too?” 

You rolled your eyes as a playful smile formed on your lips. “No, Max. I was just trying to throw something away” 

He refused to acknowledge why, but there was something about the way you said his name that made his head fog up. It was like the feeling he got back in Monaco, but still something he had never fully understood. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he spoke. 

“What’re you even getting rid of anyway?” Max asked

“It’s nothing - it’s just - don’t worry about it” You stuttered out in futile attempts

He had already unraveled the crumpled paper, causing a warmth to rush to your cheeks. You were never one to share your artwork with anyone unless you were one hundred percent proud of it. But there you were, hopelessly sitting on a concrete curb as Max took in the monstrosity that was your doodle. 

Max thought the artwork was truly something out of a gallery. The way the green and yellow flowed together while still popping individually amazed him. 

“Is this a special livery?” He finally asked after what felt like years of silence

“It’s just a mock up” You quickly dismissed. “Ferrari is doing a contest for its workers for a special livery for Monza”

“I think it’s really cool” He said, his eyes not leaving the page. No one other than your art teachers growing up had looked at your work with such intensity. 

“Really?” You asked, shocked that someone would even like it. Max finally tore his gaze from the piece of paper to your eyes. When he did, you swore your heart skipped a beat. Blaming it on the nerves of someone unexpectedly viewing your art, you pushed the thoughts away. “I don’t think it’s bad, it just isn’t my style”

“If your style is the same from childhood, then no, it’s not” Max agreed “But I do think it’s good.” 

“Thank you” You managed to peep out. Receiving compliments about your work was never one of your strong suits, though the night in Max’s apartment seemed to help. As you flipped through the photos on your camera that night, he would praise every single one. You had convinced yourself he had done it just to be nice.

“You still do graffiti, right?” Max asked, taking a seat next to you on the curb 

“Yeah, but nowhere near as much as I used to,” You admitted. As much as you loved sneaking around the town in your teens, you were too old to risk getting caught and put behind bars. 

“Why don’t you try doing something with that?” He suggested “It would definitely catch the eyes of the higher ups” 

The thought of going back to your graffiti roots intrigued you. You weren’t sure how you were going to get street art onto a racing car, but it was a challenge you were willing to tackle. 

“Honestly, that’s not a bad idea, thank you” You said, standing up “Now I gotta go actually do my job, but I’ll definitely keep you updated.”

As you started to walk away, Max remembered why he sought out to find you in the first place. 

“Y/n, wait” He called 

You turned around to see Max quickening his pace to catch up to you. “What’s up?” 

“I uh, wanted to apologize” He said, slightly catching his breath “For the fans. I know they can be a lot sometimes” 

“I appreciate it. But I know it’s out of your control. Every fanbase is going to have the handful that takes it too far.” You replied. It was definitely tough being on the receiving end of it all, but you knew it was out of love for the driver. 

A smile formed on Max’s face, thankful that you understood. “I’m planning on making a statement by the end of the day. I know it’s taken a toll on a lot of the drivers and their teams” 

“Thank you Max. You’re doing the right thing” 

======

As the weekend went on, the comments from the crowd lessened. Max had posted a statement after practice, just as he said he would, and it seemed to work. 

What didn’t lessen though was the mushy feeling Max got whenever he saw you. 

He couldn’t describe it exactly. It’s like he wanted to be with you more, regardless of how much time you two spent together. His mind kept replaying the night he invited you over in Monaco. 

The way Jimmy rubbed up against your legs the second you walked in the door while Sassy observed you from afar, warming up to you only an hour later. The way your face lit up when Max asked to see the photos that you took from the race, even if they were all of Charles, Ferrari, and the cars in the pouring rain. 

And the way you explained the thought process behind each photo? Max could have listened to that for hours. He didn’t know a damn thing about lighting or the rule of thirds, but he was going to learn if it meant he could hear your voice. 

Max didn’t know what to call it. The funny feeling that made his stomach bubble up to his throat. He could tell it was the same feeling that clouded his mind, making everything just a little bit foggy when you were around, but also clear as daylight at the same time. 

Charles, however, knew exactly what to call it. When he saw Max first start poking around near the Ferrari garages just a little too often, he knew something was up. So, he decided to do what he does best, and pry. Fortunately, Max had left a can of his favorite drink in the Ferrari pit, giving Charles the perfect excuse.

“Hey, uh I think you left your Red Bull in my garage” Charles said as he walked down towards Max’s

“What? Oh, thanks. I was looking for it” Max said, taking the can before cracking it open

Charles leaned up against one of the support beams, fighting the urge to smirk “What were you even doing there anyway?”

Max shook his head, dismissing the question “Nothing, just catching up with some people” 

“Some people? You mean y/n?” Charles asked 

“Yeah, I mean, she’s a person too, isn’t she?” Max countered, confused why his friend was pressing him

“We both know she’s not just a person. Whenever she’s even remotely nearby, you’re right behind her like a lost puppy” 

“I do not” Max protested, knowing it was in vain

“So what are you going to do about it?” Charles asked 

“Do about what?” Max countered, refusing to fall victim to what Charles was trying to do

“Do about your feelings towards y/n” Charles replied. 

Before Max could think of a reason as to why he wouldn’t have any feelings towards you, his phone went off. 

DING!

Max first ignored it, thinking it was something from the team, and turned his attention back to Charles. 

“I don’t have feelings for -“

DING! DING! 

Two more notifications came through, prompting the Dutchman to pick up his phone. When he did, his heart stopped. 

You: Max 

You: I did it 

You: I think I created the perfect livery

======

You couldn’t find Charles anywhere, no matter where you looked. Hospitality? Nope. The garage? Not there. His driver’s room? Empty. Pierre’s garage? You honestly don’t even know why you checked there. 

As you couldn’t find the one singular person you needed to do your job, you took the opportunity to draw. You found a secluded area in the Ferrari hospitality to get to work. 

Instead of the bright yellow and green you chose earlier, this time you opted for the standard red, black and white. Your colored pencils moved freely across the sketch of the car, you didn’t need to think where to go. Your body just knew. 

Even though you didn’t have your hands on a can of spray paint, it felt right to get back into the thick of it. As much as you hated to admit it, you had to thank Max for the idea. You loved graffiti, but you didn’t think it would fit a Formula One car. But there you sat, finally looking at a livery concept that you were proud to have made. 

Your eyes drifted to your phone that was sitting only a few inches away from the paper. The memory of Max practically demanding to put his number in your phone after the whole Miami incident replayed in your mind. Should you? You two were now friends, right? It’s not weird for friends to text each other, right? The questions made your head hurt. Why were you getting nervous about texting your friend about an idea he came up with? 

Somehow, you shook the doubts of him making fun of you from your mind, and picked up the phone, sending your message. 

As you set your phone down, you couldn’t help but reminisce about that night in Monaco. Max welcomed you with open arms to his apartment, sharing a part of his life you never thought you’d get to see. You admired the way he cared for both of his cats, the two of them were his world, pampering them whenever he got the chance. And the way he listened to you ramble on about your silly little photos, knowing damn well he didn’t give a shit about your camera settings or how to get the best angle on track. 

It was nice to have someone to talk to outside of racing. As much as you loved the sport, it was hard that it took over your entire life. Any time your family called, all you could talk about was the most recent race, or where you’re traveling to next. Being able to talk to Max about something as simple as your photos was almost comforting. 

DING!

Your head snapped to your phone, and sure enough, he had responded. 

Max: Great! Can’t wait to see it :)

======

Once again, the race led to a battle for first between Charles and Max. You knew both of the guys did this for a living, but you were still amazed how effortless they were as they fought for the top step of the podium. While you didn’t know what problems Max was facing in the car, you knew through the many radio complaints that Charles was struggling with his. 

Even with the problems, the Monegasque managed to come out on top. You got to Parc ferme in the nick of time to get into position as Charles pulled into the center spot. Max pulled in on the left, and Hamilton on the right. 

The click of your camera was measly compared to the roars echoing behind you from the team as Charles stepped onto the car, fist in the air in celebration. You followed him, snapping a few photos as he hopped to the ground and ran to the engineers. From the way they embraced the driver, you would have thought it was his first ever win. It was a hard fought race, and Charles deserved every moment of euphoria. 

Before you knew it, Charles had gone to the stand where his hat and water were. The helmet and balaclava were soon off, as he replaced it with his cap. You snapped a few photos as you knew someone from the socials team would post it for the girlies. Backing up to get a better shot, you felt your body press up against someone. 

“I am so sorry” You said, turning around. That someone happened to be Max. He was sweaty, his face beat red and hair all messed up, but somehow he never looked better. The thought of taking his photo then and there crossed your mind, but you refrained as you felt a warmth on your cheeks. “Congrats on P2” 

“Thanks” He replied, slowly finding his breathing

“Now get over there with your boyfriends” You joked as you pointed to Charles and Lewis who were already in conversation about the race. 

The Dutchman made his way over to the other drivers, and you snapped photos as he congratulated Charles on the win. You couldn’t hear what was said between the two of them, but they glanced at you before Charles broke out in laughter as Max’s face turned even more red than before. 

A smile formed on your lips as you looked through your viewfinder and focused on the two boys. Parc ferme and podium were always your favorite part of the race, as the pure joy from the driver’s accomplishments always seemed to radiate through your photos. 

You were able to squeeze yourself into the perfect spot front and center for the ceremony. Though the barrier dug into your side, it was a small price to pay for the photos you got. 

A few photos were snapped of Lewis when he walked out to ensure that your settings were just right, but as Max was announced, you couldn’t help but put your camera down and watch. His piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd for something, focusing when he finally found you. 

He didn’t know why he was searching for you, it just felt right. 

Maranello, Italy

The plan was to spend summer break back in the Netherlands. 

But that was all before you got the call that your design had been chosen for the Monza livery. 

Now, your break was spent in the factory in Maranello, painting the livery yourself. The livery designers figured it would be easier for you to do the work yourself, rather than fall flat on their attempts to replicate the art.

You didn’t mind it at all. In fact, you were ecstatic that you were able to paint the car yourself. It had been a while since you had a can of spray paint in your hand, and you were itching to graffiti again. 

The downside to constantly being in the factory though was that it was mostly just you. While the engineers popped in occasionally to say hi and see what you were up to, none of them were people you were super close with. 

Annalese and a few of the girls from the social team stopped in before you even touched the car, hoping for a promotional opportunity. They had bought you a white tarp that you spray painted the Ferrari logo on, hanging it on the wall. 

With the graffiti in the background, you snapped photos of spray paint cans littered around the blank bodywork, and the social team took no time posting it on all of their accounts. 

When their job was done, they left, eager to enjoy their summer break. Turning around, you were faced with the daunting task at hand: painting two Formula one cars that were going to be out on the track in a matter of weeks. 

The bodywork in front of you seemed to come to life, as the engine intake hole glared at you. It was as if the car was daring you to try to touch it. What were you doing about to paint a racing car? You weren’t qualified for this, not too long ago your canvases were literal brick walls. 

The temptation to call Annalese and make up some lie about why you couldn’t do the livery anymore grew. You picked up your phone, ready to make the call, only to find a text. 

It wasn’t unusual. Ever since you texted about the livery, the two of you were in almost constant communication. Whether it was racing, the cats, or what movies you had been watching, you guys always had something to say. But as it turns out, you seemed to forget to tell Max a small piece of information. 

Max: Y/n Y/l/n. 

Max: What is this? 

Attached to the text was a screenshot of the post that Ferrari had made, teasing about the livery.

Max: Tell me this means what I think it means 

You were tempted to mess with him and lie. Say that you had no idea what the post was about and someone else won the contest. He would definitely see right through you, so your fingers hovered over the “call” button, pressing it before you could think twice. 

Max thought he was dreaming. It started with seeing the familiar Ferrari logo graffitied on a bed sheet. Now, after a series of texts, your contact is the one trying to call him. He let a few rings go by to collect himself before clearing his throat and answering.

“Hello?” He asked, praying that the pounding of his heartbeat wasn’t heard from the other end

“Surprise?!” You replied, your voice showing the small smile on your face

Max sat up in his sim chair, his attention fully focused on you “So you did it? You won?” 

“Yeah, I’m in the factory right now about to start” You said, the pit in your stomach growing again

“That’s exciting! How’re you feeling?” Max asked 

A sigh escaped your lips, just audible enough for him to hear over the phone. “Nervous. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“You’ll be fine” He said

“But what if I mess up” 

“You won’t.” He reassured. He knew you were a natural when it came to art. No matter the canvas, you’d make it work. “Treat it as if it were a wall or ramp. Something you’re used to spray painting.” 

“Okay” You said, your voice now down to a whisper. Silence overcame the two of you as you debated what to do next. The bodywork in front of you was still intimidating, but having Max on the other end of the line seemed to help a little. “Do you think you could stay on the call while I start? Just for a little confidence boost?”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else” Max said, his smile even wider than before.

Both of your hearts were pounding out of your chests, nerves swarming your systems for very different reasons. Out of all the people in the world, you had picked Max to calm yourself. Something neither of you would have imagined twelve years ago. Through the speaker, Max could hear the sound of a can rattle, then the spray of its contents. Then, silence. 

“It’s started” You finally spoke

======

As summer break wore on and you spent more time on the livery, the calls with Max became more frequent. It all started with just wanting someone to talk to so you weren’t completely alone with your thoughts, but it quickly grew to you wanting to specifically talk to Max, learn about his day and everything going on in your life. In short, his voice quickly became your favorite sound. 

And Max wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He always loved talking to you. So much in fact, he gave you a specific ringtone so he could ignore all of the other notifications that rolled in. 

Every time the two of you called, staying up way later than either of you would have liked, the warm fuzzy feeling Max got intensified. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe he did have something for you, though he wouldn’t dare acknowledge it by its full legal name. 

Little did he know, on the other end of the line, the same thoughts were racing through your head. He was your comfort as you navigated through the challenge of painting the cars. He was the face you always looked for when you ran around the paddock. He was the person you wanted to be with. 

Twelve year old you would have thought you were crazy if you told her you were crushing on Max Verstappen. He was a bully, a pain in your butt, the worst person you knew. But as a twelve year old you didn’t know that people change. You had, and so did Max. He grew into someone you admire. 

The Netherlands

As much as you loved being in Italy, you were glad to finally have a few days visiting your family in the Netherlands. The Belgian and Dutch Grand Prixs were back to back, and both were close enough for you to spend the two weeks in your childhood home. 

The biggest perk to being home had to be the family dinners. You missed the hearty home cooked stick to your ribs dinners that your mother made, and the memories that were created around the dinner table. Of course, the conversation was never dull either. Tonight’s topic? A certain Dutchman. 

“So, have you seen Max at all at work?” Your mother asked. She was aware of your childhood rivalry with him, but you failed to update her on any of the recent developments. Your mother was convinced the two of you would eventually become close, and you were scared she would blow it out of proportion.

Picking at your food on your plate, you answered “Uh yeah, actually. We’ve seen each other a lot. He’s become a really good friend” 

Your mother’s eyes lit up as your words hit her ears . “Oh really? I’m so glad. You know I always thought the two of you were meant for each other-”

“I know, mama. You reminded me almost everyday” You said, half joking

“You know he’s in town, right?” Your father asked “I saw Jos earlier today and he mentioned he was visiting family for the week. Same thing you are.” 

As you registered what your father said, your head snapped up from your plate. “Really? He’s here?” 

“Why are you so excited? Do you have a crushhhh?” Your little sister teased

“What? No” You lied, silently praying you were convincing enough “I’m just surprised he didn’t mention that he’d be home. That’s all.” 

The dishes were done at a lightning speed. As your family was settling in the living room for their nightly routine of watching cringey game shows, you darted up to your room, grabbing your phone that rested on the bed. After a few rings, Max’s voice filled your room. 

“Hello?” 

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be home” You said, completely disregarding his greeting 

“You’re home too?” He asked

Before you knew it, you made plans to meet Max at the local ice cream shop. He had already gotten you a double scoop of your favorite flavor, something he had learned from the countless conversations you had. For once he wasn’t wearing any sort of Red Bull merch, and you couldn’t help but stare as you greeted him.

“Hey stranger” You said as you approached the table Max was at 

“Long time no see” He replied, handing you your bowl. “How’s everything?” 

“Good! I was able to finish the liveries before the end of summer break. As fun as it was, I’m glad it’s off my chest” You admitted 

“You take any photos of it?” He asked. It was a question you had heard countless times from him. Almost every single time you talked, he begged for a reveal of your artwork, and everytime you turned him down. It frustrated him to no end that you wouldn’t share, but you insisted that it needed to be a surprise for everyone not associated with Ferrari.

“Yes I did Max,” You answered, his face lighting up “No, you can’t see them” 

The smile on his face dropped a frown as he registered what you said “Why not?” 

“Because it’s classified information. If you wanted to see what it looks like early, you should’ve joined Ferrari” 

As the night drew on, the air got colder, prompting the two of you to go back to your childhood home. Your family greeted Max as if he was one of their own before you made your way up to your bedroom. 

The room Max walked into was honestly everything he had pictured it would be. Photographs and artwork that he presumed were yours covered the walls as an easel along with plenty of paint supplies tucked in the corner. 

“Sorry if it’s a bit crazy. I actually haven’t been in here much since I moved to Italy.” You said as you followed him into your room. 

“You don’t need to apologize. I like it” He said as his eyes took in everything

“Thanks. Make yourself comfy” 

Max didn’t waste any time as he plopped himself on your bed. You followed suit, placing yourself next to him, with just enough space in between you two. Every urge to rest up against him was fought, as he was doing the same. 

“If you had told me when we were kids that I’d be spending time in your childhood house, much less your room, I think I woulda puked” Max laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ve come a long way since then”

You chuckled as you spoke “You’re telling me. I never thought I’d be excited that Max Verstappen came back to town.” 

“Funny how life works. Maybe we need to go to the old skatepark to see if your artwork is still there” He said 

“Maybe,” You paused as you looked at the framed photo of the Pac Man ghosts that hung on your wall. “Thank you, by the way.” 

Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face you. “For what?” 

“For not calling the cops that one night when I was spray painting. If I was caught, I definitely would’ve gotten arrested” You admitted 

He knew you were right. If he had made the phone call instead of continuing on his run all those years ago, things would be different. Much different. 

“It’s nothing, really. You were just trying to express yourself. It’s not like you killed someone” Max finally said 

“True. Anyway, how’s being home been?” You asked, trying to think of anything to change the topic

“Pretty good. I’ve been mostly spending time with my mama. I rarely get to see her during the season, but she’s always been one of my biggest supporters.” He said, a soft smile playing on his lips

“What about your father? I feel like I see him at almost every race.” You said.

The second you finished the question, you wanted to stuff the words back in your mouth, swallow them, and pretend you hadn't said anything. Max’s eyes glossed over at the mention of his father as you cursed yourself for ever bringing him up. 

Cautiously, you placed your hand on top of his. Playful flicks and friendly hugs were common between you two, but you weren’t sure how he’d react to touching your hand, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to. If you don’t want to talk about it-”

“I don’t see him much outside of racing” Max said as he flipped his hand over to take yours. His calloused fingers brushed against the softness of yours. “He just really cares about the on track stuff.” 

You didn’t dare say anything, if you knew anything about learning the deeper parts of someone, it was to let people share when they’re ready. Your eyes lifted from looking at your hand being intertwined with Max’s, up to his face. His gaze was already focused on you. 

“It’s been tough.” He admitted “Living out my father’s dream. Having all of this pressure on me to perform well and exceed expectations. I just wanted to have fun racing around a track.” 

If there was anything else you knew about letting people share, it’s that you needed an out when they got a little too deep. From the way you spiraled yourself, you could tell Max was on the cliff edge, moments away from diving in. 

“I think you have” You spoke softly

“What do you mean?” Max asked, causing him to snap out of his dive at least temporarily 

“Let me show you” You said getting up from your spot on the bed. It stung a little as you dropped Max’s hand, but it would be worth it in a moment. 

You couldn’t find it at first. Max watched as your eyes darted around the room, searching for something. After a few seconds, the object became clear as day, though in front of it was your old red point and shoot camera. Moving the camera, you grabbed the old photo book that rested behind and returned to your spot next to Max.  

Max watched intently as you flipped through the book. Childhood memories were immortalized in the photos in front of him. What your old childhood photos had to do with him enjoying racing, he had no idea. 

Until you found the photo. 

“Is that me?” He asked. A young boy in a race suit with his hands in the air stared back at Max. There was a glimmer in the kid’s eyes that could be seen through the helmet on his head. The memory of Max getting mad at you for taking the photo was foggy in his mind, but the photo in front of him negated any doubt of it happening. 

“Yeah, it was the first time I took photos of racing” You admitted “I think we were both like twelve” 

He tore his eyes from the old photo of him back to you. “You kept it all these years?” 

You nodded as you took the photo out of its protective sleeve and gave it to Max. “It’s one of my favorite photos, but I want you to have it. I think you need it more than I do.” 

Max couldn’t believe what was happening as his heart was on the verge of exploding. Your favorite photo, which happened to be of him, was being gifted to him. The woman who dare he say has a crush on, kept a photo of him for the past twelve years. 

“Thank you” was all he managed to whisper

“Of course Max” You replied, taking his hand again

Zandvoort, The Netherlands 

Getting to the podium was all you wanted for the weekend. 

Regardless of who was on it or what national anthem was being played, you wanted to be at the podium of your home race. But as life, and your job, would have it, the podium was the last place you were needed. 

It all started with Charles’ team having to replace the entire power unit and gearbox, causing him to start at the back of the grid. He managed to finish in sixth which was big for the team, but still a long way away from being on a step. 

Carlos did make it to the bottom of the podium and after pestering a few of your coworkers, you convinced one of them to swap media duties with you. They covered Charles’ debrief while you took the podium. However, your coworker forgot to tell you he didn’t know how to do a driver debrief, so you were stuck with Charles.

What made it worse was that the winner happened to be the hometown boy. In the distance, you could hear the Dutch national anthem as you were stuck filming Charles’ PR written reasons for why the car was shit. 

Max assumed you were going to be swarmed with the celebrations, as you wouldn’t shut up about how much you wanted to be involved with them at your home Grand Prix. He couldn’t find you in parc ferme, assuming you got caught in the foot traffic. But as he took to the top step of the podium, he scanned the crowd, paying extra attention to the Ferrari team, only for you and your camera to be nowhere to be found. 

Both of you trudged through your post race routines, longing for a minute to see each other. As Max worked his way through the media pen, he couldn’t help but hope to get a glimpse of you. You hadn’t replied to his text, and he knew calls were out the window on race weekends. 

The sun had long set by the time the two of you were relieved of your duties. You made your way out of the Ferrari hospitality, eyes sore from staring at your laptop screen editing photos. As you made your way to your car, any sense of exhaustion washed away as you found Max in the parking lot. 

“Congrats” You yelled as you darted to him

Max stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice. Sure enough, as he turned around, you were jogging straight to him, arms wide open. He flung his open just in time to catch your hug. 

“Woah there, thank you” Max said, relieved that you were okay. “What’ve you been up to? I was looking for you all day” 

Max Verstappen had been looking for you all day. Taking a deep breath so your heart wouldn’t jump up out of your throat, you composed yourself and pulled away from him. Genuine concern played in his eyes. 

“I would’ve texted but I got so wrapped up with doing Charles’ post race media and then editing photos.” You sighed “I am so sorry I missed the podium. I truly wanted to see you… and hear the Dutch anthem again.” 

“You don’t need to apologize, hopefully you’ll hear it again before the season ends” He joked “In all seriousness, you’re all good.” 

Max paused, as if he was contemplating something. The sound of cicadas filled the warm summer air as Max debated with himself. After a few moments, he spoke again. 

“If you want to, and only if you want to, you can help celebrate by joining me out at the club tonight. Red Bull is going out to celebrate the win.” He offered 

It was your turn to have an internal argument. Going out with Max and celebrating his much deserved win sounded fun, but lingering in the back of your mind was Miami. 

“Fuck it” You blurted out, startling the driver “I’ll go, but I’m not drinking too much” 

“Deal. Let me know when you’re finished getting ready, and I’ll pick you up from your room.” He said, leading you to your car. 

You had never gotten ready faster in your life. Max was a patient person, but you absolutely hated making anyone wait for you. Sending him a quick text, you did once last look in the mirror. A quick knock was placed on your door, peeling you away from your reflection. 

When the door opened, Max felt his heartbeat slam on the accelerator. The shorts you were wearing were very short and the top didn’t leave much to the imagination. Not that he minded the change, it was just an outfit he didn’t expect you to wear. Outside of the bright red Ferrari polo and khakis, you mostly donned some sort of oversized shirt and sweats. Comfort was usually your top priority. 

The confidence you had when you answered the door wavered as you caught Max staring. “Is it okay? It’s not too much, right?” 

His head snapped up from your body to meet your eyes “No no not at all. You look amazing actually” 

As quickly as your confidence faltered, it grew right back hearing Max’s reassurance. Little did you know he was fighting every bone in his body not to turn you around and make a night out of you and the bed. 

While you had partied with Red Bull in the past, nothing prepared you for the scene in front of you. Bottle service was in full swing as every single team member had a glass of something in their hands. 

Being the reason why the team was celebrating tonight, Max got whisked away from you almost as soon as he walked in the door. Luckily, you spotted a few of the Red Bull photographers and social media team members, giving you a group to go to. You had gotten close to them over the course of the season through media collabs between Ferrari and Red Bull. 

“Y/n!!” Meg yelled as soon as she spotted you. “You look hot!” She embraced you in a hug, as did Jess, Sofi, and Becca when you made your way through the crowd. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sofi asked as the two of you pulled away

“Max invited me” You yelled over the boosted bass, “Some of his engineers nabbed him as soon as we got here though” 

“So you finally got the nerves to tell him how you feel?” Jess asked as she handed you a cup

As the drink burned your throat, you quickly pieced together it was a vodka cranberry. “No, I haven’t said anything to him.” The four girls exchanged knowing glances as you continued to sip on your drink. “What?” 

“You mean, he asked you to come celebrate with him even though you have no affiliation with the team, and you haven’t confessed your massive crush on him?” Sofi asked 

“Yes?” You answered, unsure of where she was getting at. 

“He totally likes you” Becca spoke this time

Cheers erupted in the building, and you turned to find Max up on someone’s shoulders. He was double fisting drinks - two gin and tonics most likely - looking like he was on cloud nine. 

“I don’t know” You said, peeling your eyes away from the sight in front of you and back to the girls “I feel like he would have said something, he’s a blunt guy” 

“Yeah with everything except how he feels” Jess said “Just trust us” 

The rest of the night had been a blur. At some point, your group made its way to the dancefloor, taking any and every drink a team member would offer you. The five of you danced with each other, as well as anyone who would even remotely get close. Everything blended together into one foggy echo. 

At some point, a pair of hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to whoever they belonged to. A chorus of drunken giggles filled your ears as the girls in front of you smiled and waved, leaving you alone with the person who was behind you. You couldn’t help but to lean back into the person, as the feeling of calloused and scabbed fingers traced your exposed skin. 

Leaning your head back to get a look at whose hands were on your body, you found Max’s beaming blue eyes staring back at you. Nothing was said between you two as swayed up against his body, knowing exactly where it was rubbing against. 

Stifled moans escaped Max’s lips as you danced against him. He didn’t know how many drinks he had at that point, all he knew was that he needed to be with you. And by the way you melted into his body, you needed him just as badly. He planted a soft kiss on your neck, sending a chill down your spine and his name breathily coming out of your mouth. 

Now Max wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t going to take you in the state you were in and do anything. That just wasn’t the type of guy he was. But as you rubbed up against him, he wanted nothing more than to drag you to the bathroom. 

The last thing you wanted was the night to end. Max was finally all over you, his hands exploring every inch of your body that he could in public. Drunken kisses were planted on both of your bodies, landing anywhere but each other's lips. But as the music lowered, and the lights in the club slowly started to turn on, it was only a matter of time before the pace shut down. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Max whispered in your ear before placing his lips on your cheek. 

Nodding your head, Max took your arm and led you out into the night. The darkness of the night sky was quickly replaced with yells and camera flashes. 

“Head down” Max instructed, his hands never leaving yours “Can never escape the fucking paps” 

The flashes continued as Max guided you into the taxi. Sighs left both of your mouths once the door finally shut. 

“I am so sorry about that.” Max apologized “Thought I could have one fucking night without them” 

“Maxie,” You began, the nickname you had given him rolling easily off of your tongue. “It isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize” 

The two of you tumbled out of the taxi and into the elevator of your hotel. His arm was wrapped around you as you leaned into his side. The tension thick between the two of you, but neither of you dared to move. A ding filled your ears as the elevator landed on your floor. 

“Thank you for the invite, I had a really fun time tonight” You said as Max walked you to your door. 

“Of course, anything to spend time with you.” He said. Just like you, he didn’t want the night to end. Whether it was the amount of liquid courage still in his system or what, he spoke. “Do you wanna spend the night? Only if you want to, of course.” 

You tried not to act like you had been waiting for this moment all night. Your eyes broke from Max to your hotel door, back to Max, as if you were debating your decision. 

“I mean, I guess it is safer to be with someone in case anything happens…” You pondered, even though you were fully aware you were going to say yes. “I’d probably be up all night in my head if I didn’t have anyone to keep me company… Yeah I’ll stay with you” 

Max tried to hide his smile as you accepted his invitation, guiding you only a few doors down. He slid the key card into the slot, easily unlocking the door in his fuzzy state. 

When he offered for you to stay in his room, you weren’t expecting a whole suite. The living room alone was around the size of your entire hotel room. 

“Go to the bathroom and get yourself ready for bed, I’ll slide you some of my clothes to wear” Max said as he motioned to one of the doors - the bathroom you presumed. 

You did as he said, and as you fought to get your makeup off with a ratty wet tissue, Max knocked on the door. As you opened it, he handed you one of his shirts and shorts to sleep in. As you walked out of the bathroom, you made your way to the couch, before getting stopped by Max.

“No, you get the bed. I’ll take the couch” He insisted, gently placing his hand on your back and guiding you to the bedroom. 

Exhaustion from the events prior washed over you as you climbed into the bed, not even bothering to argue with him. You crawled under the covers, getting nice and comfy, as Max watched over for a moment, making sure you were okay. 

The all too familiar warm and fuzzy feeling grew in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. All he wanted to do was join you in bed tonight, letting you climb into his arms, but he knew better. The couch was his tonight. Max turned to shut out the light and close the door, but failed to even get there. 

“Max?” You asked, your voice barely audible. At first he thought he was hallucinating, only turning when he heard his name a second time. 

“What’s up, y/n/n?” He wasn’t expecting you to scoot over in the bed, eyes heavy as you pulled the comforter back. You didn’t say a word, only patting the empty spot in bed next to you. 

Part of him knew he shouldn’t. There was a perfectly good couch for him only a few feet away. But he couldn’t say no to you, you were his weakness. Against his judgment, he climbed in the bed, as you snuggled into his arms. 

======

It was early when the sun broke through the curtains, waking you up. It took you a minute to remember where you were and how you ended up in a hotel room that wasn’t yours. Max was still asleep next to you, arms wrapping around you like you were his personal teddy bear. 

You needed to get out of there. And fast. 

Not to say that you didn’t enjoy the events of the evening prior, you definitely did. It was just the thought of being anything more than friends that quickly made your stomach churn, and you were positive it wasn’t from the amount you drank the night before. You were one to take your time when it came to dating and relationships, and whatever was going on between you and Max was moving full throttle. Someone needed to slam on the brakes. It wasn’t going to be Max. 

You managed to lay perfectly still as you took in your situation. Max’s clothes covered your body as yours were probably still in the bathroom across the suite. The gesture was nice at the time, but as the cotton in his shirt mixed with his own body heat, you were suffocating. 

The task at hand felt like something out of a sitcom. Somehow you managed to wiggle your way out of Max’s arms without waking him. It was graceless, yet better than a bull in a china shop. 

But you did it, navigating your way through the suite to the bathroom to find your clothes drunkenly thrown on the floor. You internally chided your past self for the messiness, but changed into the clothes nonetheless. Leaving Max’s outfit from the night before folded on the couch, you slipped out of his hotel suite unnoticed by him. 

Your eyes darted both ways down the halls as you closed the door behind you, thankful that no one was up this early. As you started to walk down the hall to your own room, you heard someone’s throat clear. 

“What were you doing in Max’s room?” 

Turning around, you felt like a deer in headlights as you met Charles’ eyes. He came up to you, clearly just finished getting ready for the day, taking in the sight before him: you in your clothes from last night, makeup probably still half on, and frazzled. An amused smirk formed on Charles’ face. 

“He finally did it, huh?” He asked, crossing his arms 

“I promise it’s not what it looks like” You defended “I swear he just let me stay the night. We did not have sex.” 

The driver muttered a curse under his breath, “Guess I owe Carlos twenty now. Shouldn’t have believed the stupid gossip pages” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in what he said “You follow the gossip pages? And you two were betting on me?” 

“The betting is all in good fun, but yeah, the accounts are very entertaining. You and Max are all over them right now.” 

Charles took out his phone and after a few taps, he flipped it around. On the screen was a carousel of photos featuring you and Max at the club from the night before, ending with a photo of you holding hands. As you read the caption, your heart stopped. 

New WAG Alert! Max Verstappen is officially OFF the market! He was seen last night in a club in Zandvoort with a new mystery lady. Max girlies, how are we feeling about this?

Edit: The mystery girl has been identified as Y/N L/N, a team photographer for Ferrari, and good friends with Charles Leclerc. How are you feeling about romance being added to this rivalry?

“Oh this is bad.” You muttered, taking a step back from the driver. “Charles, this is bad.”

“You’re going to be fine, it's just a silly little rumor. It’ll pass within the week.” He reassured. He was no stranger to the gossip page rumors, but unlike you, Charles was used to the unwanted attention about his love life. 

“I don’t think you understand, I could lose my job. Ferrari is the only thing I have going for me right now!” You panicked, running your hands through your hair, trying to calm yourself 

“Does it state in your contract you can’t have anything with any drivers?” Charles asked 

You paused, trying to think of the day you signed your life away to the team, but you were drawing a blank. “Is it bad I don’t remember?” 

“Exactly! It’s not your problem right now.” Charles said, hanging his arm around your neck “Now let’s go get breakfast while you tell me everything, Mrs. Verstappen”

======

On the other side of the door, Max had woken by the opening and closing of doors in his suite. It took him a moment to piece together what happened, and the night leading up to him being alone in his bed. HIs heartbeat skyrocketed as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. You, happily staying the night in his arms, only to dart out before he could even wake up. What the hell did it all mean? 

Monza, Italy

The Red Bull Ring had been child’s play compared to Monza. While rival drivers didn’t endure the threats like Spielberg, everywhere you looked, Tifosi donned the Ferrari red. Chants supporting Charles and Carlos broke out whenever any of the fans spotted them, making it a place you hoped you would never have to enter wearing another team's gear. 

It didn’t help that everyone in Ferrari was slightly on edge. Carlos and Charles wanted to perform in front of the Tifosi, the engineers wanted to make sure the car was in top shape, and you were worried about the release of the livery that was dropping later that day. 

Even though you were the one who painted the livery, seeing it in the garage was surreal. Your artwork had finally finished coming to life and was on display for everyone to see. 

Being in Monza meant the media duties increased by tenfold. You didn’t mind, as it gave you the opportunity to work more with the team, and an excuse to avoid Max. 

You hadn’t talked to him since that night in Zandvoort. He didn’t bother to reach out, so neither did you. It stung at first, not talking to the one who quickly became a close friend, but as each day passed, everything got a little easier. 

The garage was bustling with engineers and mechanics making sure the cars were in perfect condition for the weekend ahead. You were squeezed in there as you were in charge of filming the drivers’ reaction to the livery. Your stomach twisted as you walked down the hall of the garage, where you met Charles. 

“Hey, are you ready?” You asked 

Charles gave you a quick hug before pulling away “Hey, yeah, it’s just looking at the livery, right?” 

You nodded as your stomach started to churn “Yep. And please be genuine. No hard feelings if you don’t like it” 

“I’m sure I’ll love it. You know I love your work.” He praised. It was genuine, you knew he loved seeing your art just as you loved hearing him play his music. 

“Thank you Charl. Now I’m gonna count down from three, and when I say go, I’m going to start recording. Do the usual intro spiel and then pretty much say how you’re feeling about seeing the new paint.” You briefed him. It wasn’t his first time filming one of these, but you always reminded him how to do it just in case he decided to forget.

“Oh, and you only have one shot to get this right, so you better not fuck it up” You teased as you took the lens off of your camera, sticking it in your pocket. 

“Got it, I’ll be sure to do my worst” Charles joked. As you set up to start recording, panic filled Charles’ face “Wait. Can I practice once?” 

“Yeah, of course” You said

The driver quickly went through his spiel, looking to you for help on the words he couldn’t remember the direct English translation to. When he was confident enough in what he was saying, you angled your camera, ready to record. 

“3… 2… 1… Go” You counted down, starting to walk backwards down the hallway. When you first started doing things like this, you were always scared of tripping over something or hitting the walls. But at this point, you had done the backwards walk so many times that you could do it in your sleep. 

“Hi guys. Charles here. It’s media day here in Monza, and it’s my first look at the special livery for the race. Our photographer Y/N designed and painted it, so if it’s anything like her paintings, it’s going to be amazing. This year is super special for Monza as it is its 100th year of operation. I can’t wait to see what the car looks like” Charles said, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

As you rounded the corner into the garage, through the camera screen you could see Charles’ face light up. He took in the sight in front of him before speaking. 

“Wow. This is incredible” He complimented “Y/n you really outdid yourself with this. I hope you guys enjoy seeing the car as much as I am excited to drive in it. See you next time. Ciao guys” 

You moved yourself to get a view of the car that was in front of its driver. After holding the position for a few seconds, you stopped recording. 

“And done” You said, allowing Charles to turn toward you

“How was that?” He asked. His eyes begged for validation that he didn’t ruin any content being posted. If there was one thing to know about Charles, it’s that he wanted the best for everyone on the team, regardless of their position. 

“You did great” You assured him “I’m glad you like the livery. It means a lot” 

“Of course! I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true” He said as he pulled you into a hug 

Before you could thank him again, the sound of laughter filled your ears. Laughter from a voice you hadn’t heard in a week. You quickly pulled away from Charles as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Pretend I’m not here” You instructed the driver before ducking behind a stack of tires in the corner

On the other side of the tires, Max entered the Ferrari garage. He assumed you would be around, as you were normally on media day. But to his surprise, you weren’t one of the many people packed into the terminal. Luckily for him though, Charles was there inspecting his car. 

“Hey mate” Max greeted “The car looks sick.” 

“Yeah it does.” Charles agreed “Y/n did a hell of a good job on the design”

“She did. But uh speaking of y/n, have you seen her anywhere? I haven’t been able to find her” Max asked. There it was. 

A silent prayer left your lips as you waited for Charles’ response. He wasn’t usually one to lie, but hopefully he made an exception for your sake. Otherwise, it would be real fun to explain why you were hiding. 

“Not recently, no. Last I saw of her she was in hospitality doing some editing. Lots of content needing to go out with it being Monza weekend.” Charles answered

“Ah I get it. Thanks anyway” Max replied. The sound of shoes scuffling filled the garage as the two drivers said their goodbyes. 

“He’s gone!” Charles called in the direction of the tire stack

As you crawled out from behind the tires, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. For the third time that day, your arms wrapped around Charles as a chorus of thank you’s left your lips. 

“I genuinely owe you Charl, thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t think I would have been able to face him.” You said as you finally pulled away from him 

“Yeah, of course. Is everything good between you two?” He asked, his tone filled with concern more than anything else

“I just realized some mistakes that happened last weekend.” You admitted “Meddling with anyone in the workplace just isn’t my thing” 

Even though the confession wasn’t to Max, it still felt good to get some of it off your chest. You should have never let your feelings get involved in work. You knew better than thinking they would mix well. 

======

The free practice sessions came and went, with both of the Ferraris looking strong. So far, you had managed to steer clear of Max. Most of your time being spent in the hospitality suite or trackside, as far away from the Red Bull garage as possible. 

Avoiding Max had given you ample opportunity to perfect your camera settings, as well as your editing presets for Monza. The race was a big task, and you wanted to make sure you delivered. 

But you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran into him. You had been assigned to cover the Fan Stage interview with the Ferrari drivers. As fate would have it, the combined interview with Red Bull and Haas was scheduled right before. 

As you and the Ferrari boys arrived, the four drivers wrapped up their interview and headed off the stage. There were only a handful of people backstage dressed in red, making you stand out like a sore thumb. You tried to blend in with the rest of the media team, but Max spotted you instantly, causing you to drop your head, pretending to look at past photos on your camera. 

As Max’s gaze landed on you, he could feel his thoughts disappear as his mind fogged up. He wanted - no, needed - more of that night in Zandvoort, but the two of you had to talk first. As he slowly made his way to you, his hands grew sweaty and he could feel his heart pound like a ticking time bomb. 

“Y/n! Hey, how’ve you been?” He asked, quickly pushing his nerves aside as he approached you

Your eyes quickly darted to Charles for assistance,  who only gave you a pity look. Some help he was. You shifted your weight, steadying yourself as you finally made eye contact with the man you’ve been avoiding. 

“Hi Max.” You answered

He repeated the question, “How’ve you been?”

You didn’t want to have a conversation with him. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone while you were working. If you were going to talk, it had to be in private, off the clock, when you were ready. So, you mustered out an “I’m sorry, I can’t really talk right now. I’m working” As you lifted up your camera, hoping he would get the hint. 

Being a guy, he of course didn’t have a clue on what you were trying to do. “Right. I just wanted to congratulate you on the livery. It looks amazing.” 

Before you could even think of a response, the sound of the host’s voice filled the speakers. “Now the duo you’ve all been waiting for. Tifosi, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz of Ferrari!” 

The fans erupted as you gave Max a soft smile. “Thanks, but I have to go. I’ll see you around” 

Max watched as you followed the Ferrari boys up the stairs, focused on the camera in your hands. Questions of where he went wrong filled his mind as he tore his gaze away from you and made his way back to Red Bull.

======

While it wasn’t the double podium the team and the Tifosi had hoped for, both drivers made it into the top four, with Charles landing P2. 

You arrived at Parc ferme long before any of the drivers pulled in, giving you ample time to set up. The roar of the crowd sent a shiver down your spine as Charles pulled his car into position. If this was what it was like for him to be second, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he reached the top step. 

Hearing the Dutch national anthem was not on your ideal to do list for Monza, but you still trudged through the formalities of the podium. Max’s stare was fixed on you, burning like lasers, but you didn’t dare meet it. There were more important things to be done. 

Suzuka, Japan

Japan was easily the most miserable Grand Prix of the entire season. While the country was beautiful and the fans were amazing, everything in the paddock made it unbearable. The only bright side on the weekend was that your contract got extended for the next two seasons.

Yet again, everyone in the Ferrari garage was stressed, Charles especially. It was the second race that Max could win the Driver’s Championship, only needing to out score Charles by eight points. 

On top of the Driver’s Champion pending to be named, your plan to avoid Max the rest of the season had gone terribly wrong. The dark skies and rain showers didn’t help either. 

It started on media day, when Charles and Max had been put in the same group. Being forced to follow Charles around while being in the same proximity as Max was enough. The boys didn’t help in that they were constantly glued to each other's sides. 

Max nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard about that round’s groups. Being with Charles meant you weren’t too far behind, giving Max the opportunity to test the waters with you again. 

His first goal was to get you to wave. Max and the rest of his group were leaving a press conference, causing you and the other photographers to hurry outside. You were getting ready to snap photos of Charles, but Max was not too far ahead of him. The wave was subtle, you honestly almost missed it, but you replied with a simple head nod. 

That head nod was enough of a greenlight for Max. The next step was to get you to actually talk. 

As the group moved between media areas, Max found you talking to Charles. While from the back of the group he couldn’t tell what you two were talking about, from the way you were laughing with the Monegasque, he knew it wasn’t anything serious. Max’s suspicions were confirmed as he ended up in the middle of the group and discovered the topic of conversation.

“I don’t understand how you don’t think spaghetti is good” Charles said “It’s a classic” 

You laughed, shaking your head “I never said it wasn’t good. I said that I think it’s an okay shape. It just doesn’t hold the sauce as well as cavatappi or penne” 

“You better not say that when we’re back in Italy. They’ll chase you out of the country” Charles joked 

“No shit, Sherlock. Why else do you think we’re talking about it here?” You said, a smile plastered on your lips 

“But do you think cavatappi or penne is better at holding sauce? They both have a tubular shape” Max asked

Your head whipped around to find Max behind you two. Looking at Charles for help, the pity in his eyes only screamed “be nice”.

“Cavatappi” You answered, your words lacking any of the enthusiasm you had before, “The spiral helps keep the sauce in”

Max was oblivious to the silent conversation you and Charles had prior and the change in your tone, but he was sure as hell over the moon that he got you to talk. 

======

As media day pushed on, you were reminded of every reason why you liked Max. From the way he held the door for you to the way he listened to you intently as you gave instructions for a photo. Maybe Charles was right, maybe you needed to be a bit nicer. 

The day was wrapping up, only giving Max a handful of chances to talk to you again. He caught you alone outside of the Ferrari garage in the pit lane. Your attention was on the phone in your hands, most likely at the content from the day. Should he say something? You looked busy, he didn’t want to annoy you even more. Before Max could decide what to do, he heard your voice. 

“Max, hey.” You called as you approached the Red Bull driver

“Oh uh hey” He replied, caught off guard by your sudden friendliness “How’s your day been?” 

“Pretty good, honestly” You answered, your tone much warmer than it was earlier in the day. “Always love media day. There’s always something to do” 

“Yeah, I guess it's nice for you, with the job and all. I always just want to get in the car and drive” He spoke 

Max continued to listen as you told him how the season has been from the garage next door, and through the lens. You recounted some of your favorite stories, including the time that you and Charles pranked the PR team into believing he had gotten into an argument with one of the members of the British Royal Family.

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there talking, but you had a feeling it had been a while. The sun had moved slightly in the sky, as people passed the two of you as if you were a road obstacle. 

It wasn’t until the paddock opened up to the fans with pit lane tours that you realized it had been at least an hour. The sound of camera clicks and bright light flashes filled the air as the fans took in the sights of their favorite teams garages. 

“Well, I should probably get back to work. The content doesn’t make itself” You joked “And plus, I’m sure some of the fans would love to meet you” 

“Yeah, I should go say hi” Max agreed “I’ll see you around” 

A silence overcame both of you, trying to figure out what to do. As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him and wish him well, your gut begged you to walk away. The boundary needed to be set. You listened to your gut, opting for a wave before disappearing into the red painted garage. 

======

The hot tea burned your throat as you took a sip. You were always impatient waiting for the liquid to cool down, to the point that it was a part of your nighttime routine. 

Photo editing was one of the last things you did every night - giving you plenty of time to reflect on your work. Every photo got the same treatment of applying the preset, then adjusting the settings as needed. It was the perfect mind numbing task right before bed. The routine this time was broken up by the sound of your phone going off. 

DING!

One of the silly photos you had taken of Charles popped up on your phone screen, followed by the words “Have you seen this?”

The photo that accompanied the text was a screenshot of the stupid F1 gossip page that Charles was obsessed with. Their most recent post had been a photo of you and Max from earlier. 

Max Verstappen and his alleged girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a Ferrari photographer, were spotted along pit lane earlier today. Fans at the Japanese GP Pit Lane Walk said both of them were in deep conversation, only focused on each other and completely oblivious to the outside world.

You nearly choked on your tea as you read the caption. They weren’t wrong that you had been completely lost in chatting, but they didn’t need to call you out on it. They also didn’t need to continue assuming you and Max were dating. 

A curse left your lips as you thanked Charles for keeping you updated. It pained you to come to terms with, but you couldn’t have Max in your life. He needed to stay just another F1 driver. 

======

The rain egged on as qualifying rolled around. As boots splashed through muddy puddles, you were fortunate enough to be in the garage and along the pit wall. 

Someone was approaching, the squeaks of wet shoes on the epoxy floor getting louder with every step. Annalese found you crouching on the floor of the garage, trying to get some aesthetic photo of the tires. 

“Hiding in the tire stacks again?” She asked 

Standing up from your squat, you turned to your boss, “Charles told you about that?” 

“Yeah, honestly it was kind of funny” Annalese chuckled 

Your jaw dropped. Your coworker was a blabber mouth. “That’s ridiculous. I can’t believe him.” 

“You better. He’s a total gossip” She said, taking a pause before speaking again “But that’s it? You and Max are done?” 

“You can’t be done with something that never even started” You retorted “It was a fun one off thing, but I can’t have some driver messing with my work.” 

======

Somehow, the rain turned into a torrential downpour come race time. The red rain jacket on your back was soaked from the short sprint between Ferrari’s hospitality and the garage. A shiver crept down your spine as the cold droplets fell on the limited exposed skin

“I cannot believe they’re racing in this shit” You muttered as you entered the packed garage. ‘

Mechanics and engineers alike were huddled for warmth around the TV for the race start. You opted to stay in the garage and photograph their raw reactions instead of risking damaging your camera. 

When two o’clock hit, it was lights out and under a yellow flag, the cars took off. You were so used to the high speeds that you couldn’t help but chuckle seeing the cars practically crawl. 

The chuckle quickly silenced as a Ferrari car crashed into the boards. All eyes were on the screen as everyone was trying to figure out which of the cars it was. Seconds felt like hours before the team announced it was Carlos that had crashed, leading to a slight sigh of relief. Charles was still in the fight. 

Fortunately Carlos was okay, but he wasn’t the only one who had starting errors. Albon and Magnussen had connected, and it appeared Vettel had some damage as well. Just as quickly as the race began, a red flag led to its delay. 

You watched as the cars pulled into pit lane, giving you the opportunity to snap photos at an angle you wouldn’t normally get. 

After multiple failed restarts later, the race had resumed. A little over thirty minutes were left in the three hour time limit, meaning every single second mattered for the Driver’s Championship. 

Max was the first one to cross the finish line, with Charles not too far behind. Max hadn’t won the championship, at least yet. 

You emerged from the cave (otherwise known as the garage) for the first time all race to be at Parc ferme. Max’s eyes lit up the second he saw you, but you were too focused on Charles to even notice. 

Like usual, the post race interviews were zoned out. Once you've heard someone talk about why they could or couldn’t drive properly, you don't need to hear it again. That is until Charles’ five second penalty was announced. 

Cheers broke out on the Red Bull side of Parc ferme, while the Ferrari staff exchanged glances. There was no possible way that Max Verstappen won his second championship over a simple penalty. But there he was, celebrating with his team. 

As he was engulfed by his engineers and mechanics, he couldn’t help but to wonder what it would be like to have you on that side of the barrier, celebrating with him. 

The formalities of the interviews wrapped up, letting you turn to the rest of the Ferrari team. Somber looks filled their faces, and as much as you hated to do it, the scene did paint a pretty photo. 

“So that’s it? It all came down to a penalty?” You asked once you removed the camera from your face 

“It all depends on if the FIA chooses to give full points or not for the race” One of the engineers responded 

Time stood still as everyone on every team waited for the stewards’ final decision. There was a silence in the air that you had never experienced before, as if everyone was holding their breath. 

The TV screen changed from an early played graphic of the potential Driver’s Champion, to live footage of the Driver’s cool down room. 

“Max you have to” A lady off screen must’ve motioned to the room around the corner

“See what’s there?” Max asked, a puzzled look on his face as Checo made a remark about him being the World Champion. “But I’m not” 

Another man off screen told Max to go to the room, leading him to question again. “But I’m not.” 

“Yes you are” 

“I am? You sure?” 

The roar that followed from Red Bull was almost deafening. Engineers and mechanics were on each other’s shoulders as they celebrated their driver. A mere twenty feet away, no one in red dared to make a sound. 

As podium procedure ensued, it took everything in you not to keep your eyes on Max. He was the main attraction after all. His eyes crinkled as his name was announced and his smile only grew wider once the trophy was in his hands. Pulling your eyes away from Max was tough, but once you eventually did, you focused on Charles and got back to work.

His only goal of the podium was to meet your eyes. Max scanned the Ferrari red, searching for the lens of your camera. With no surprise, it was angled to his left, directly at Charles. As the Dutch and Austrian national anthems droned on, Max couldn’t take his eyes off of you, while you fought every bone in your body not to meet his. 

======

You had never been happier than the moment you were done with all of your post race duties. The paddock still had people in it, most of them also making their way out for the weekend, and you were able to slip past Red Bull without seeing a particular World Champion. 

That is, until you got to the parking lot. 

Wet gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you made your way through the lot, careful not to ruin the pair of black and red Puma’s on your feet. Chatter from the people around you filled the air, one voice making an already terrible day even more miserable.

“Hey!” Max’s voice filled the parking area

He’s talking to someone else. Keep walking. 

“Y/n!” Max yelled 

Just don’t answer. He’ll go away. 

“Y/n!” 

Max’s walk quickly turned into a jog, trying to catch up to you. You could hear his footsteps quicken on the wet gravel, but you couldn’t get yourself to walk any faster. 

“Y/n. Why won’t you talk to me? Did I do something?” Max asked, grabbing your wrist

“Well the whole world thinks we’re dating right now but we’re barely even friends.” You replied, finally turning to face him

Max’s head tilted slightly “What are you talking about?” 

“That night in Zandvoort. It was a mistake, Max. I wasn’t ready then and I’m still not now. Congrats on the championship. I’ll see you around.” You answered, yanking your wrist out of his grasp before finally making your way to your car.

The wallet in his pocket grew heavy as he watched you walk away. The photo of the young boy rested inside of it as an aching reminder. 

[metamatar]

When electronics manufacturing took off in China in the 1980s, rural women who had just begun moving to the cities made up the majority of the factory workforce. They didn’t have many other options. Managers at companies like Foxconn preferred to hire women because they believed them to be more obedient [...]

Hiring a young, female workforce in India comes with its own requirements — which include reassuring doting parents about the safety of their daughters. The company offers workers free food, lodging, and buses to ensure a safe commute at all hours of the day. On days off, women who live in Foxconn hostels have a 6 p.m. curfew; permission is required to spend the night elsewhere. “[If] they go out and not return by a specific time, their parents would be informed,” a former Foxconn HR manager told Rest of World. “[That’s how] they offer trust to their parents.”

[...] the Tamil Nadu government sent a strong signal welcoming Foxconn and other manufacturers: Authorities approved new regulations that would increase workdays from eight to 12 hours. This meant that Foxconn and other electronics factories would be able to reduce the number of shifts needed to keep their production line running from three to two, just like in China. [...] Political parties aligned with the government called the bill “anti-labor” and, during the vote, walked out of the legislative assembly. After the bill passed, trade unions in the state announced a series of actions including a demonstration on motorbikes, civil disobedience campaigns, and protests in front of the ruling party’s local headquarters. The government shelved its new rule within four days.

Indian Foxconn workers told Rest of World that eight hours under intense pressure is already hard to bear. “I’ll die if it’s 12 hours of work,” said Padmini, the assembly line worker.

For the expatriate workers, the slower pace of the factory floors in India is its own shock to the system. A Taiwanese manager at a different iPhone supplier in the Chennai area told Rest of World that India’s 8-hour shifts and industry-standard tea breaks were a drag on production. “You have barely settled in on your seat, and the next break comes,” the manager lamented.

In China, Foxconn relies on lax enforcement of the country’s labor law — which limits workdays to eight hours and caps overtime — as well as lucrative bonuses to get employees to work 11 hours a day during production peaks [...] five Chinese and Taiwanese workers said they were surprised to discover that their Indian colleagues refused to work overtime. Some attributed it to a weak sense of responsibility; others to what they perceived as Indian people’s low material desire. “They are easily content,” an engineer deployed from Zhengzhou said. “They can’t handle even a bit more pressure. But if we don’t give them pressure, then we won’t be able to get everything right and move production here in a short time.” [...] At the same time, the expat staff enjoy the Indian work culture of tea breaks, chatting with colleagues, and going home on time. They recognize they are helping the company spread a Chinese work culture that they know can be unhealthy. [...]

On the assembly line, Foxconn’s targets were tough to reach, workers said. Jaishree, 21, joined the iPhone shop floor in 2022 as a recent graduate with a degree in mathematics. (With India’s high level of unemployment, Foxconn’s assembly line has plenty of women with advanced degrees, including MBAs.) [...] “At the start, during my eight-hour shift, I did about 300 [screws]. Now, I do 750,” she said. “We have to finish within time, otherwise they will scold us.” [...]

Mealtimes are an issue, too. In December 2021, thousands of Indian Foxconn employees protested after some 250 colleagues contracted food poisoning. In response, the company changed food contractors, and increased its monthly base salary from 14,000 rupees to 18,000 rupees ($168 to $216) — double the minimum wage prescribed by the Tamil Nadu labor department for unskilled workers. [...]

Working conditions take a physical toll. Padmini has experienced hair loss because she has to wear a skull cap and work in air-conditioned spaces, she said. “Neck pain is the worst, since we are constantly bending down and working.” She has irregular periods, which she attributes to the air conditioning and the late shifts. “[Among] girls with me on the production line, some six girls have this problem,” Padmini said. Workers said they regularly see colleagues become unwell. “The day before yesterday, a girl fainted and they took her to the hospital,” [...] Padmini, at 26, believes she is close to the age where the company might consider her too old. “They used to hire women up to age 30, now they hire only up to 28,” she said.

[queersatanic]

We fuckin' won, y'all

It hasn't fully sunk in yet, but we did just get some truly joyful news.

The Satanic Temple lost AGAIN, and ours is a full victory here

The King County Superior Court just granted our motion for summary judgment in full, dismissing all claims with prejudice and ruling on our declaratory judgment counterclaim we have the right to use "the Memes Page".

facebook.com/queersatanic

It has been 1635 DAYS since The Satanic Temple filed their case against us in federal district court. We got it dismissed there once in February 2021; we got it dismissed again in January 2023 after TST re-filed.

The Satanic Temple appealed the second loss to the Ninth Circuit and also re-filed part of the case in state court in April 2023 — notably after the three-year statute of limitations had run out.

The Ninth Circuit affirmed most of the lower federal court decision but allowed TST to revive their defamation claims if they could specify what exactly had been said about them that was false and defamatory.

Apparently unable to do so, The Satanic Temple voluntarily dismissed the federal case against us.

Meanwhile, in 2022, TST sued Newsweek for writing about our case back in October 2021. The Satanic Temple dragged us into those proceedings to give depositions, but Newsweek seems to be prevailing with just one claim remaining and a bunch of embarrassing stuff coming out about TST.

TST sued a woman in Texas for making TikTok videos critical of them, after first forcing her to record a pretty upsetting retraction. This is despite the fact that she was right.

TST has threatened more people than we can make a reliable count of with litigation both before and after us.

The Satanic Temple's agents have stalked and harassed us and our loved ones, and there have been long periods of misery and where it seemed like the courts would let them keep doing this sort of thing indefinitely.

But today we won.

The Satanic Temple has lost every step of the way and shown themselves to be a toxic, abusive religious organization to everyone who has bothered to pay attention — tho unfortunately, too few people have.

Thank you all for your support over these long 4+ years.

Based on their pattern of behavior, The Satanic Temple is likely to appeal this loss or perhaps invent a new pretext to continue this SLAPP in a new venue. We know that.

The Satanic Temple, its owners, and lawyers have had had no argument justifying the last 1635 days beyond their wealth and desire to hurt and intimidate people. But TST also should have much bigger issues to deal with than lighting money on fire by continuing to come after us.

So, maybe The Satanic Temple will finally walk away now. They're definitely more vulnerable now than they have been in a long time.

Please let people know what The Satanic Temple is and how they behave, and also that however scary they seem, if you stand up to them you can win.

When it comes to The Satanic Temple, there's always more, and it's always worse, but they are at least as incompetent as they are malicious. They are ghouls, to be sure, but not ones who can survive any light on their actions.

So Ave Satanas, and Hail Lucifer the Lightbringer

[magics-neptunes-things]

Baby Sister

Hi guys!

This one is from resquets, lot of them actually. I hope you will enjoy this ficlet :)

TW : Jealousy, secret relationship, Reader is Jenni Hermoso's little sister.

PART 2 IS HERE!

_____________________________________________________________

Being Jenni Hermoso’s little sister has always been a great pride for you. You wear your last name with great happiness and you have always attended all the matches you could see. You have never missed any of his important matches, whether with the Barça team or the Spanish national team. This summer, you even made the trip to attend each stage of the competition, until seeing her lift the trophy at the finale.

What happened after and around this victory, you’d rather not talk about. This story makes you green with rage and you sincerely believe that if you had faced these men at the end of the summer, things would have gone very badly.

Jenni now playing in Mexico, it’s obviously harder for you to go and see her play. You watch her evolve on the other side of the ocean thanks to VPN, what you find ridiculous, it’s your sister for God’s sake.

But you’ve been used to long distance relationships for a while now. Because your girlfriend doesn’t happen to live in Barcelona either. Leila has been playing for Manchester City since the summer of 2022, a few months after you two started dating. The long-distance relationship is clearly not something easy to manage, but your reunions are incredible every time. Now that Jenni is no longer in Barcelona, it’s easier for you to fly to Leila for a weekend in Manchester.

Yes, because Jenni obviously doesn’t know that you’re in a relationship with one of her friends. Former colleagues at Barça and in the Spanish national team, there is no need to draw a picture to know how you met. It took some time for you to get closer, you were long persuaded that Leila only saw you as Jenni’s little sister. Baby Hermoso, like most of Jenni’s teammates like to call you.

It’s not a nickname that bothers you, you know it’s affectionate and again it’s not something pejorative for you to be compared to your sister. You love her. Even though she tends to be very protective of you, scaring away all your girlfriends pretty quickly. No one is good enough for you in her eyes and even if you know that her goal is to protect you and to avoid the mistakes that she made herself, you must admit that it’s for this reason that Leila and you decided to remain hidden.

Lying or hiding things from Jenni is really not easy for you. You are used to telling her everything and you have sometimes picked yourself up at the last moment when you want to tell her an anecdote about something you saw or did with Leila. Luckily, you didn’t make any missteps in a year and a half, almost two years.

But the secret is starting to weigh you more and more. Being away from the two most important women in your life is difficult for you and you regularly find yourself with lower morale than usual. When Jenni asks you about it, you just tell her you miss her. Which is true, but not totally. It’s easier for you to talk about it with Leila, even if you don’t want to impose your moods on her.

With Christmas coming, Leila is back in Barcelona, just like your big sister. You managed to establish a schedule in the rules of the art, juggling between family meals and stolen moments with your girlfriend. You even managed to set up an afternoon with Ona, Leila and other friends you have in common. You even asked Alba Putellas to join you, but she already had something planned.

So, when Ona and her brother went back to their parents, Leila offered to take you home, which you obviously accepted. Except she stayed at your place to end the night between lovers, catching up on all the kisses, hugs and love whispers you’re late for. You could spend hours with Leila, hidden under your sheets, exchanging confessions between two kisses.

********

It was between Christmas and New Year’s that Jenni asked you to have lunch and an afternoon with her. If her proposal obviously excited you, you found yourself hesitating when she told you she wanted to invite Leila to join you. It’s been a while since they met again and Leila apparently misses her. And since you two are getting along, Jenni thought it was a good idea to bring people together.

If only she knew how well you two get along…

From the exchange of messages that you had with Leila to talk about this, you realized that the situation seems to amuse your girlfriend more than anything else. It helped you see things in a different light. Maybe there’s no reason to worry, after all?

You’re the last arrived in the restaurant Jenni picked, both brunettes already sitting at a table. You have no trouble spotting them, it would have been difficult to do it anyway with Jenni’s great gestures. You approach Leila to hug her, giving her a stern look when her hand is dangerously low on your hip. Then you put a kiss on your sister’s cheek, which makes you sit next to her before grabbing a lock of your hair.

"Since when do you have red streaks?" laughs your sister

You shrug your shoulders and get rid of your jacket to place it on the back of your chair. The facility is already pretty full and people don’t seem to pay too much attention to your table. A good thing for you.

"Since yesterday"

"It suits her well I think"

Jenni looks at you for a few more seconds before smiling and nodding. Just like her, you have very dark hair, but your eyes are more on gray than on brown like those of Jenni. When you turn your attention to Leila, she winks at you and you find yourself blushing slightly while smiling.

The discussion between the three of you goes rather well in the end and after you go to choose tapas, you relax completely. The laughter burst and you spend a pleasant moment with the two brunettes.

Between two tapas, you grab your phone to open whatsapp and show a message from your mother to Jenni to show that you are right about something. Honestly, you can’t even say why it was, as the subject is quickly forgot when another conversation seems to have caught your big sister’s eye.

"Who is the lion?"

"What?"

You’re trying to quickly put your phone in your jacket pocket, because you know exactly what Jenni is talking about. Instead of saving Leila’s full name, you inserted a lion emoji and an emoji with a burning heart next to it. You find it cuter and it saves you a little today. But not as much as you would have liked.

No doubt thanks to her reflexes worked during training, Jenni managed to grab your phone before you put it away, hurrying to change her hand to get away from you.

"Jenni give it back to me" you half get up and try to take it back.

In front of you two, Leila looks at you with big eyes, without really knowing what to do. Luckily you never call yourself by your first names. And luckily too, you tend to send yourself photos through other apps.

"I miss you, I can’t wait to find you" starts reading Jenni out loud, frowning. "I count the days before I see you again… Who is this girl?"

When Jenni turns to you, you manage to take the phone out of her hands and put it away from her. Your cheeks are so red we could probably bake eggs on them.

"No one" you grunt carrying your glass to your lips.

"Well if that’s nobody, I don’t dare imagine what the messages with your girlfriend are" laughs Leila.

You almost strangle yourself with your drink and Jenni doesn’t seem to blame you to the point of letting you die on the spot since she gives you little pats on the back. On the other hand, you shoot your girlfriend with the look by seeing her drive the nail.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asks Jenni, eyebrows still frowned.

You sigh softly and hesitate a split second before answering. After all, she doesn’t need to know who it is, right?

"Yes" you simply answer, giving her a look of challenge.

Jenni supports your gaze, obviously, and you feel the questions swirling through her head. You don’t know what you’ll get first.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" your older sister asks.

"Because you drove away all the last ones I’ve been with" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"Oh right away the big words…" sighs Jenni, even if her amused smile proves her guilt.

A few seconds pass and you naively hope that this will be enough for Jenni as information for the moment. Maybe the fact that you’re with Leila will hold her back from pushing things too hard and getting other information out of you.

"How is she?"

It’s Leila’s voice which resounds however and you return once again a dismayed look in her direction. She’s supposed to help you, not the other way around. However, when you answer that it’s not her business, Jenni insists by asking you the question in turn.

"She is kind, she is attentive and understanding" you end up answering, a deeply upset look displayed on the face.

"Is she pretty?" asks Leila

"Obviously" you snort.

In front of you, Leila seems to be having a great time. And if you think that you may laugh about it later, currently you can’t help but think that you intend to make her pay for it later.

"Is she a good kisser?" continues Leila.

"Wow no, I don’t want to hear the answer to that question" Jenni steps in with one hand up. "I can’t believe it, you’re still a baby."

You roll your eyes sighing, hearing the moan in the voice of your big sister. You’re almost eight years apart, but she sometimes has a hard time forgetting that you’ve been fifteen almost ten years ago.

"I’m 25, Jenni" you point out, but this information seems to fall on deaf ears.

"Wait, is that the girl from your job here? Aida?"

"Who is Aida?" asks Leila

This time, the fun left your girlfriend’s voice and face. This makes you shudder from the inside, the main flaw of the brunette being undoubtedly her jealousy. This has already highlighted some tensions between you, but you have always been able to communicate in order to avoid too much conflict.

"It’s nobody" you respond quickly to Leila, to whom you have already mentioned her existence, you are almost sure of it. "And no, it’s not Aida. Can we change the subject now, please?"

Groaning in her beard, Jenni finally accepts your request, even if she specifies that you pay nothing to wait. You roll your eyes again and peck the last crumbs on your plate while Jenni apologizes to go to the toilet.

As soon as she has her heels turned, you feel Leila leaning in your direction.

"Who’s Aida?" asks the brunette again.

You sigh softly and shift your attention to Leila. You’re relieved that your sister went to the bathroom quickly after that, or you know that your girlfriend would have had her blood blown out until you two were alone.

"One of my colleagues Babe, I already told you about it" you answer in a low voice, leaning mechanically too in her direction.

Leila answers nothing, content to look at you at length with her black eyes, arms crossed on her chest. She’s too far away for you to catch her hand, so you try to keep eye contact with her.

"Leila stop, we already discussed it. You have no reason to be jealous"

A few seconds pass during which Leila seems to pass you to the X-ray using her eyes. Time seems to last you a little too long, you end up arching an eyebrow in her direction.

"And excuse me, but if one of them should be jealous, it’s me. You’re the one who’s tactile with all your friends and you’re the one who’s got edits of your person on TikTok. Not me."

You see Leila’s face relaxing under the effect of her surprise. You’ve never mentioned these two things until now and this may not be the best time to do so since your older sister was reappearing next to you two. She seems surprised by your two sulky faces and your similar position, your arms crossed on your chests.

"Uh… is everything okay?" she asks while sitting next to you.

You nod your head while Leila just grunts for a simple answer.

"I have to go." You suddenly decide "See you before you go, right?"

Jenni answers yes, probably a little surprised by your quick departure. She stands up in turn to put a kiss on your cheek and take you in her arms.

"Do you need a ride? Where are you going?"

You know perfectly well that Leila’s question is not innocent but on the other hand the kindness and helpfulness of the brunette alone could explain the proposal. But, on your side, if you had to describe yourself in one flaw, it’s impulsivity. You prefer to talk about spontaneity, but that’s why you find yourself answering her sarcastically

"Seeing Aida, what else?"

The flash of anger and jealousy passing through Leila’s face is very fast, but visible to you. And apparently to Jenni as well.

Still standing, Jenni lets go of a surprise exclamation before pointing at Leila.

"It’s you!"

"Huh?" Leila replies, turning to Jenni, having forgotten for a split second her presence.

"The lion and the burning heart! It’s you!"

"She puts a burning heart next to the lion?"

Leila’s question makes you hit your forehead with your hand. It’s a disaster. She could have responded positively to Jenni’s question that it would have come back to the same thing.

Your sister remains silent for a long time, her gaze passing from Leila to you many times. She opens her mouth several times before finally finding the words that dare to suit her. For your part, your heart rate is so high that you wonder if your heart is not trying to come out of your chest.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?"

You sigh softly, leaning against the bench on which Leila is installed.

"I told you. You traumatized all my last girlfriends Jenni, I’m sure some of them even changed countries after you finished talking to them. I didn’t want this to happen this time."

You feel Leila’s gaze rise on you, you have after all just confided that this relationship is important to you.

"Your ex-girlfriends were selfish first-league idiots" grumbled Jenni rolling her eyes at her turn. "I know Leila isn’t"

You pout a little before shrugging. You’re not sure that if she hadn’t faced the fact her reaction would have been the same. If you had told her about your relationship with Leila when it took place, you are convinced that things would have been different.

"How long has it been?" keeps asking Jenni.

"A year and a half" answers Leila for you.

The information seems to surprise your sister as she bows her eyebrows at you. You mumble an excuse and shrug.

"Well, it doesn’t look like I have a something to say anyway" sighs Jenni as Leila pulls you by the arm to make you sit next to her.

You let yourself be willingly, the revelations of the last minutes making you forget that you managed to argue while Jenni went to the toilet. Jenni sits down again, looking at you carefully, before pointing again at Leila.

"You’re my friend Leila. But I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re still six feet under."

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv, I loved the hidden gem list that you did in the past. I discovered so many new authors thanks to you. I love going back to my all time favourite authors but I also love discovering new ones. Would you or any of your followers have any hidden gems recs ? Could be long or short fics. Thank youuuu

I’m so happy to hear that! The hidden gems series is very dear to my heart and probably my favorite project. I started a s2 back in 2022 and have a few lists saved in my drafts, maybe I will revisit them in the new year… we’ll see! I found some additional rec posts that might interest you here, here and here. I haven’t read much this year, but if you’re looking for new-ish works I’d highly recommend the fics below, and also my reclist for the h/c fest. I’m sure my followers have more recs. Enjoy! 💜

Train Song by @fw00shy (T, 1.2k)

"Imagine: An extended summer vacation," Ginny said when she first pitched the trip to the group. "Fine," Hermione said after only a moment's hesitation, to which everyone cheered, because everyone knew she was the only one who could figure out how to make the Hogwarts Express fly.

All I Think About by @skeptiquewrites (T, 4.5k)

Sometimes all it takes is one perfect late summer night in June.

mind the gap by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 5k) - MCD

The first time Draco died was by far the worst. Once Potter started living with him, it got better.

everything you should say by icarusinflight (E, 7.5k)

They're not friends. But when Draco offers help, Harry takes it.

Tarry, Tarry, Wait For Me by @toomuchplor (E, 8.5k)

"I can't ask it of you," Draco says, quick and awkward, "I just thought you should know, I thought you needed to know, but none of this is your fault."

Seasons by @greattemptation (E, 9k)

Seconds pass, and it’s like he can see Draco worrying the sliver of glass in his heart, looking for a way to press it out, to expose the wound to the sun. It’s life; Harry can be patient.

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet (E, 9k)

The first time Draco kills Potter, it's by accident.

like a scratch on the roof of your mouth by @eleadore (E, 9k)

Two weeks into the new year, Draco Malfoy saves Ron's life in a spectacular fashion.

coyote ugly by @garagepaperback (E, 10k)

One night, every month, Harry is a coyote. Malfoy has a silver tooth. Sometimes, he cuts Harry’s hair.

draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

When the Flood Comes by @academicdisasterfic (E, 10k)

Nine years on from the war, Auror Potter is upholding the Ministry of Magic's rule of law. Senior legal counsel Draco Malfoy is challenging it.

Wobble Week 2023 by @moonflower-rose (E, 12k)

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

With Hands Full of Dusk by @corvuscrowned (E, 15k)

Harry thought he'd found what he was searching for after the war. But as the quiet life he's earned begins to unravel at the seams, he finds himself searching instead for an elusive, mythical creature found only in lore and legend - with none other than Draco Malfoy as his companion.

Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

Sun Thief by BlackRose532, @floydig (E, 28k)

Or: Harry beats up a pimp and isn’t sorry about it, Draco deals black market potions, and they’re shagging. Again.

Truth to Materials by lately, @toomuchplor (E, 54k)

In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

[odinsblog]

Elena Kagan issued a devastating dissent to the decision of her hard-right fellow supreme court justices to overturn the Chevron doctrine that has been a cornerstone of federal regulation for 40 years, accusing the majority of turning itself into “the country’s administrative czar”.

Kagan said that in one fell swoop, the rightwing majority had snatched the ability to make complex decisions over regulatory matters away from federal agencies and awarded the power to themselves.

“As if it did not have enough on its plate, the majority turns itself into the country’s administrative czar,” she wrote.

For 40 years, she wrote, the Chevron doctrine, set out by the same supreme court in a 1984 ruling, had supported regulatory efforts by the US government by granting federal experts the ability to make reasonable decisions where congressional law was ambiguous. She gave a few examples of the work that was facilitated as a result, such as “keeping air and water clean, food and drugs safe, and financial markets honest”.

Now, the hard-right supermajority had flipped that on its head.

Instead of federal experts adjudicating on all manner of intricate scientific and technical questions – such as addressing the climate crisis, deciding on the country’s healthcare system or controlling AI – now judges would make those critical calls.

Kagan, displaying no desire to pull her punches, portrayed Friday’s ruling as a blatant power grab by the chief justice, John Roberts, and his five ultra-right peers, three of whom were appointed by Trump – Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett.

“A rule of judicial humility gives way to a rule of judicial hubris,” she wrote.

Not for the first time, her most caustic comments relate to stare decisis – the adherence to legal precedent that is the foundation stone of the rule of law. Respect for the previous judgments of the supreme court is a reminder to judges that “wisdom often lies in what prior judges have done. It is a brake on the urge to convert every new judge’s opinion into a new legal rule or regime.”

By contrast, she went on: “It is impossible to pretend that today’s decision is a one-off, in its treatment of precedent.”

It has become an unquestionable pattern: the new hard-right supermajority has a fondness for tearing up their own court’s precedents stretching back decades. They did it when they eviscerated the right to an abortion in 2022, upending 50 years of settled law; they did it again last year when they prohibited affirmative action in university admissions, casting out 40 years of legal precedent; and now they’ve done it once more after 40 years to Chevron.

“Just my own defenses of stare decisis, my own dissents to this court’s reversals of settled law, by now fill a small volume,” Kagan said, her final words as plaintive as they were defiant.

(continue reading)

[a-room-of-my-own]

Edinburgh Crisis Centre designed to protect women who had suffered serious sexual violence is condemned for failing them in damning report

A controversial rape crisis centre “damaged” victims of sexual violence by hindering their access to biologically female counsellors, a damning report has found.

Edinburgh Rape Crisis Centre (ERCC), run by trans woman Mridul Wadhwa, was blasted for “many serious failings” including not putting the needs of survivors first.

The independent investigation condemned the centre for insisting traumatised rape victims, who can be as young as 12, must specify if they don’t want support from someone born a man.

More than 94 per cent of victims of rape are women and the perpetrators men.

Yet the review found ERCC failed to provided vulnerable victims with safe women only spaces, while at the same time opening up services to men.

The report said: “Putting women in the position of having to discuss whether the service they receive will be provided by someone who was born and continues to identify as female has caused damage.”

The review was ordered by umbrella organisation Rape Crisis Scotland (RCS) in May 2024, after a scathing employment tribunal judgment ruled that ERCC worker Roz Adams was subjected to a “heresy hunt” for suggesting a rape victim should know the sex of her counsellor.

Although rape crisis centres are autonomous, they sign up to the RCS’s national standards, many of which the review found ERCC had failed to meet.

RCS said the review had found a “significant breach of its standards” and was “pausing” the referral of any new clients to ERCC until it implements the recommendations of the review.

Women only spaces are a required national standard yet they were not available from October 2022 until at least February 2024, when ERCC knew it was facing a tribunal and would be under scrutiny.

The review was heavily critical of Wadhwa, who self identifies as a woman but does not have a gender recognition certificate and is legally a man.

It found her be a domineering as chief executive who “who did not understand the limits on her role’s authority” and it said Wadhwa “failed to set professional standards of behaviour” within the organisation.

She was portrayed as incompetent, overseeing an organisation with systemic failures and a chaotic approach in key areas such as financial transparency, training and safeguarding for staff and clients.

Wadhwa was placed on leave from June this year, a month after she was blamed by the employment tribunal for being the “invisible hand” in the victimisation of Ms Adams for her gender critical views.

The reviewer, charity sector consultant, Vicky Ling, said she was also told victims were not using the service because they deemed it unsafe, given there was no guarantee of being seen by a counsellor born female.

And she recommended ERCC refer any concerned survivors to guaranteed women only services such as Beira's Place, the rape help centre funded by JK Rowling and condemned by Wadhwa as transphobic.

Wadhwa labelled rape victims bigots and transphobes if they doubted whether a man identifying as a woman should run a centre helping women recover from male violence.

She said any staff who did not think all trans women were women should be fired.

According to the employment tribunal, Madhwa was on a mission to 'cleanse the organisation of those who did not follow her beliefs’.

In 2021, Wadhwa caused outrage when she told listeners of the Guilty Feminist podcast that some rape victims were “bigoted people” who needed to “reframe their trauma” and be re-educated if they didn’t agree all trans women were female.

The report said Wadhwa’s controversial comments “caused damage to individuals and to the reputation of the organisation”.

The report said the work environment at ERCC was unhealthy and with high sickness rates and that staff were likely to be too scared to question Wadhwa’s “trans activist” approach.

It recommended an overhaul of the culture at ERCC including the establishment of policies which would guarantee there would be no victimisation of any staff who did not agree with trans-inclusion within the service.

[batboyblog]

One woman miscarried in the lobby restroom of a Texas emergency room as front desk staff refused to admit her. Another woman learned that her fetus had no heartbeat at a Florida hospital, the day after a security guard turned her away from the facility. And in North Carolina, a woman gave birth in a car after an emergency room couldn’t offer an ultrasound. The baby later died.

Complaints that pregnant women were turned away from U.S. emergency rooms spiked in 2022 after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, federal documents obtained by The Associated Press reveal. 

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It’s happened despite federal mandates that the women be treated. 

Federal law requires emergency rooms to treat or stabilize patients who are in active labor and provide a medical transfer to another hospital if they don’t have the staff or resources to treat them. Medical facilities must comply with the law if they accept Medicare funding.

The Supreme Court will hear arguments Wednesday that could weaken those protections. The Biden administration has sued Idaho over its abortion ban, even in medical emergencies, arguing it conflicts with the federal law.

“No woman should be denied the care she needs,” Jennifer Klein, director of the White House Gender Policy Council, said in a statement. “All patients, including women who are experiencing pregnancy-related emergencies, should have access to emergency medical care required under the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act.”

PREGNANCY CARE AFTER ROE

Pregnant patients have “become radioactive to emergency departments” in states with extreme abortion restrictions, said Sara Rosenbaum, a George Washington University health law and policy professor. 

“They are so scared of a pregnant patient, that the emergency medicine staff won’t even look. They just want these people gone,” Rosenbaum said. 

Consider what happened to a woman who was nine months pregnant and having contractions when she arrived at the Falls Community Hospital in Marlin, Texas, in July 2022, a week after the Supreme Court’s ruling on abortion. The doctor on duty refused to see her.

“The physician came to the triage desk and told the patient that we did not have obstetric services or capabilities,” hospital staff told federal investigators during interviews, according to documents. “The nursing staff informed the physician that we could test her for the presence of amniotic fluid. However, the physician adamantly recommended the patient drive to a Waco hospital.”

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Federal investigators looked into just over a dozen pregnancy-related complaints in those states during the months leading up to the U.S. Supreme Court’s pivotal ruling on abortion in 2022. But more than two dozen complaints about emergency pregnancy care were lodged in the months after the decision was unveiled. It is not known how many complaints were filed last year as the records request only asked for 2022 complaints and the information is not publicly available otherwise. 

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‘SHE IS BLEEDING A LOT’

Other pregnancies ended in catastrophe, the documents show.

At Sacred Heart Emergency Center in Houston, front desk staff refused to check in one woman after her husband asked for help delivering her baby that September. She miscarried in a restroom toilet in the emergency room lobby while her husband called 911 for help.

“She is bleeding a lot and had a miscarriage,” the husband told first responders in his call, which was transcribed from Spanish in federal documents. “I’m here at the hospital but they told us they can’t help us because we are not their client.”

Emergency crews, who arrived 20 minutes later and transferred the woman to a hospital, appeared confused over the staff’s refusal to help the woman, according to 911 call transcripts.

One first responder told federal investigators that when a Sacred Heart Emergency Center staffer was asked about the gestational age of the fetus, the staffer replied: “No, we can’t tell you, she is not our patient. That’s why you are here.”

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Meanwhile, the staff at Person Memorial Hospital in Roxboro, North Carolina, told a pregnant woman, who was complaining of stomach pain, that they would not be able to provide her with an ultrasound. The staff failed to tell her how risky it could be for her to depart without being stabilized, according to federal investigators. While en route to another hospital 45 minutes away, the woman gave birth in a car to a baby who did not survive. 

In Melbourne, Florida, a security guard at Holmes Regional Medical Center refused to let a pregnant woman into the triage area because she had brought a child with her. When the patient came back the next day, medical staff were unable to locate a fetal heartbeat. The center declined to comment on the case. 

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For Huntsberger, the OB-GYN, EMTALA was one of the few ways she felt protected to treat pregnant patients in Idaho, despite the state’s abortion ban. She left Idaho last year to practice in Oregon because of the ban.

The threat of fines or loss of Medicare funding for violating EMTALA is a big deterrent that keeps hospitals from dumping patients, she said. Many couldn’t keep their doors open if they lost Medicare funding. 

She has been waiting to see how HHS penalizes two hospitals in Missouri and Kansas that HHS announced last year it was investigating after a pregnant woman, who was in preterm labor at 17 weeks, was denied an abortion. 

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President Joe Biden and top U.S. health official Xavier Becerra have both publicly vowed vigilance in enforcing the law. 

Even as states have enacted strict abortion laws, the White House has argued that if hospitals receive Medicare funds they must provide stabilizing care, including abortions.

In a statement to THE AP, Becerra called it the “nation’s bedrock law protecting Americans’ right to life- and health-saving emergency medical care.” 

“And doctors, not politicians, should determine what constitutes emergency care,” he added.

Idaho’s law does not allow abortions if a mother’s health is at risk. But the state’s attorney general has argued that its abortion ban is “consistent” with federal law, which calls for emergency rooms to protect an unborn child in medical emergencies.

“The Biden administration has no business rewriting federal law to override Idaho’s law and force doctors to perform abortions,” Idaho Attorney General Raúl Labrador said in a statement earlier this year. 

Now, the Supreme Court will weigh in. The case could have implications in other states like Arizona, which is reinstating an 1864 law that bans all abortions, with an exception only if the mother’s life is at risk. 

EMTALA was initially introduced decades ago because private hospitals would dump patients on county or state hospitals, often because they didn’t have insurance, said Alexa Kolbi-Molinas of the American Civil Liberties Union. 

Some hospitals also refused to see pregnant women when they did not have an established relationship with physicians on staff. If the court nullifies or weakens those protections, it could result in more hospitals turning away patients without fear of penalty from the federal government, she said.

“The government knows there’s a problem and is investigating and is doing something about that,” Kolbi-Molinas said. “Without EMTALA, they wouldn’t be able to do that.”

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The Repeal of Roe V Wade has been a disaster for pregnancy health care, with doctors turning away pregnant women just because they are pregnant out of fear that treatment might violate ever changing extreme and unscientific abortion bans

The Biden Administration's strong stand that EMTALA does cover emergency abortion care has forced hospitals to keep their doors open to people in need. A Republican administration would not enforce the law this way, Donald Trump has already said he'd leave it up to the states and certainly would drop the Biden Administration's law suit against Idaho's restrictive laws.

as horrible as all this is, it can always get worse, this is a preview of what a national Republican Abortion ban would mean for every pregnant person going to the hospital, you or someone you love could be left bleeding in a waiting room.