#transformers young sparks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysfolklore · 2 months ago

Text

misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1

summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before

word count: 8.2k + social media posts

folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen was bored.

It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.

He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.

After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.

A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."

Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.

The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"

Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.

"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."

Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.

"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."

Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.

"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"

Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.

"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.

"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."

Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.

"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."

Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.

With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.

When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."

Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.

"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."

Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.

"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."

Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.

As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.

After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.

As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others

f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”

Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭

view all comments

username1 HES SOOOOO

username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭

username3 he looks so pretty tho

username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU

username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers

username6 HES SO RANDOM

username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples

liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others

ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?

view all comments

username1 YES QUEEN

username2 that max comment was so random but so real

username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card

username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you

username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES

username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun

username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion

maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks

liked by username1, username2 and 15,836 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !

view all comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 max ??? bookshop ????

username3 WHAT SHIFTED

username4 he thought it was jimmyz

username5 HEELPP what is he doing there

username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books

↳ username1 FOR REAL???

↳ username2 max said book girl summer

↳ username3 this is so random

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.

As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.

Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.

As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.

Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.

He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.

Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.

"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"

Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."

"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.

Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.

"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"

"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"

"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"

Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."

"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."

Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.

"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."

They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.

As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.

"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"

"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"

Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."

"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"

He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.

Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.

"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."

"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"

Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."

"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.

"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.

"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"

"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."

"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."

"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.

Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.

"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."

"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."

"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."

"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."

Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"

Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?

"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.

Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.

"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.

After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.

As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.

Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?

He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.

Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 286,375 others

ynreadsbooks this week’s video will be delayed for some ~personal reasons ☺️

view all comments

username1 GIRL

username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING

username3 f1 x books this is literally me

username4 hot girls support max verstappen

username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan

username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭

redbullracing We can’t wait 💙

↳ username1 REDBULL???

↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.

The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.

But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.

The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.

As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.

Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.

Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.

As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.

"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"

Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.

"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"

"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"

"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."

"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."

"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.

"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"

Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.

Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.

After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.

As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.

She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.

He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.

Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"

She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"

They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.

"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."

He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.

They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.

As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.

"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."

Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.

"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."

"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."

"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."

"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"

Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"

As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.

"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."

YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."

They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.

"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."

"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."

They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.

"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."

"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."

They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.

"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."

Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.

"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."

"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."

"Everything happens for a reason, right?"

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 301,257 others

ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙

view all comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 no one deserved this more than her for real

username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED

redbullracing Come back soon! 😉

username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport

username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG

username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill

↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion

↳ username1 WTF

↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video

danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀

↳ username3 how do i sign up for this

username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED

maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️

↳ username1 OMG MAX

↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her

liked by charles_leclerc, ynreadsbooks and 1,028,479 others

maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡

view all comments

username1 KIIING

username2 how can a man be so babygirl

username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2

danielricciardo 🦁🦁

landonorris Simply lovely

↳ username1 menace

username4 bro who got you smiling like that

ynreadsbooks ❤️

↳ username2 biggest max girlie

↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.

Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.

As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.

Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.

Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.

"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"

"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."

YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"

"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."

"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"

"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."

"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."

They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.

"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."

"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.

Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"

"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"

Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.

"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"

The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?

YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."

Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."

YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."

Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."

He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.

"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."

As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.

YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."

Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.

"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."

"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.

"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."

"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."

"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."

As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.

He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?

The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynreadsbooks has added to their stories

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.

In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.

The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.

As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.

Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.

"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."

Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."

"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."

"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."

Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"

Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.

"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."

"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.

"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"

"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."

"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."

Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.

As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.

Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.

YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.

"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"

Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.

"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."

As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."

"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.

As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."

YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."

Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."

As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.

Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."

She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 276,488 others

ynreadsbooks roomates for the week 🥺

view all comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 those are cute kittens

username3 those look like max verstappen's cats

username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??

↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be

danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble

↳ username2 HOLD ON??

↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅

↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??

↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.

True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.

The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.

They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.

Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.

What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.

When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.

The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.

Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.

YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"

Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"

YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.

Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.

Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."

YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"

"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."

A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.

As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.

In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.

He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.

"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."

She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."

As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 302,479 others

ynreadsbooks monaco you're the dream 🤍

view all comments

username1 GIRL

username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this

username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭

username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO

username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?

username7 she just had a book and a dream fr

landonorris Has he bored you yet?

↳ username1 IM DYING

↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle

↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉

↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️

↳ landonorris I'm disgusted

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.

For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.

Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.

As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.

Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.

"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."

Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."

"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"

Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."

YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"

"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."

"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"

"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.

"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."

Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."

As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.

YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.

The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.

When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."

Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."

"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."

With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.

When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.

"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."

YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."

"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."

"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."

YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."

Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynreadsbooks has added to their stories

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.

Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."

When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.

In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.

Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.

Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.

"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.

"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."

They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."

"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."

Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.

"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"

"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."

"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."

Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"

Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.

"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."

Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.

As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.

He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.

Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.

"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"

Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."

He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.

Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.

"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.

Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"

YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."

Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."

The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.

"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."

YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.

"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"

YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."

5K notes · View notes

malusokay · 4 months ago

Text

5 Classics for girly girls 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Emily of New Moon

The bittersweet process of growing up and finding where you truly belong... The perfect read for the start of a new school year. After her father’s death, Emily Starr is sent to live with her snobbish relatives at New Moon farm. Thrust into an unfamiliar and often cold environment, Emily faces numerous challenges. However, as time passes, she begins to adapt and discovers the beauty in her surroundings. With the support of her new friends—Teddy, Perry, and Ilse—Emily not only finds solace but also discovers her own creative talents, helping her carve out a place for herself in this new chapter of her life.

“If it's IN you to climb you must -- there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills -- they can't breathe properly in the valleys.”

Jane Eyre

A true classic for all my fellow gothic-lit enthusiasts, Jane Eyre, reminds us that everyone deserves a love that consumes, challenges, and transforms the very core of your being, offering both profound joy and deep heartache (we love a good situationsship). Following Jane Eyre, an orphaned and mistreated girl who endures a harsh upbringing but grows into a strong, independent woman. As she takes a position as a governess at Thornfield Hall, she encounters the enigmatic Mr. Rochester, sparking a profound and tumultuous romance. Their intense connection is marred by secrets and personal demons, revealing the complexities of their relationship.

“Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation." "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

The Secret Garden

Mary Lennox, a spoiled and neglected girl, is sent to live with her uncle after the death of her parents. Initially ill-tempered and withdrawn, Mary’s curiosity is sparked by rumours of a hidden, abandoned garden on the estate. As she explores and begins to restore this secret garden, she experiences a beautiful shift (glow-up era). The once gloomy and sickly Mary starts to bloom alongside the garden, rediscovering happiness, vibrancy, and a sense of belonging, making the story a heartwarming tale of growth and recovery.

“At first, people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done, and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.”

Pride and Prejudice

Truly a classic that has shaped my romantic expectations hahah... Elizabeth Bennet battles societal expectations and her own misjudgments in 19th-century England. When the aloof Mr Darcy (he'd totally be a ghoster in the 21st century just saying...) first crosses her path, their initial encounters are fraught with tension and misunderstanding. However, as Elizabeth delves deeper, she uncovers the complexities of Darcy’s character and her own heart.

“I could no longer help saying that I loved him. I loved him not only for his sake but for his own sake. I loved him because he was the only person who had ever really loved me for myself. I loved him because he had made me feel that I was worthy of being loved.”

The Little Prince

A young, otherworldly prince from a tiny planet travels across the universe, meeting various inhabitants and learning profound life lessons. His journey brings him to Earth, where he encounters a stranded pilot and shares his reflections on love, loss, and the essence of human connections. Through whimsical adventures and encounters, The Little Prince explores the importance of seeing with the heart rather than the eyes and reminds us of the value of friendship and innocence.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched; they are felt with the heart.”

you guys asked for more academia/book stuff so I thought this might be a nice start, especially since I know that many of you are just getting into classics; these are all very much suitable for beginners!! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

1K notes · View notes

yuukirita · 2 months ago

Text

Two Bumblebees

Seen some people being a bit vexed that Bumblebee was in the Transformers One movie- because that made him old. And as a trope Bumblebee's often been described as being one of the youngest autobots- Even one of the youngest cybertronians to be forged before the fall of the planet. That might be fanon though i'm not sure.

I don't have a problem with it. I love Bee no matter the continuity. But it got me thinking.

To this I propose a solution: B-127 dies. The start of the war goes on and eventually Primus is like "Oh frag they need the yellow one" and pop him back out before he clocks out. And bam. Another B-127, fresh and young. Same spark.

It would be a pretty angsty Au. Because Bee freaking dies obviously. And Prime (and Elita and Megatron too tbh) has to deal with that.

Maybe it's what makes the war take a turn for the worst, who knows. Then millenia pass and they all see that fresh yellow bot with the SAME NAME appear and they have FEELINGS about it. (or maybe he's named after Bee or something, he becomes Prime's scout too)

Thought we know it's the same spark in both bots. They don't know that. Bee doesn't know that. Only Primus knows and he heckin ded brosquies.

Megatron rips out the voice box of this new young Bee because it reminds him of the last one. Optimus is even more of a dad to young Bee. Elita is still her very angry self and teaches bee how to fight in heels (probably) All the autobots and Decepticons feel like they're seeing a ghost and even tho they think they're not the same bot it's unfair old Bee's lookalike is the one that survived.

sssO many possibilities.

What we thinking? I kinda wanna maybe write that. BUT- I'm already writting DeceptiBee Au... Or I can bring this idea in the DeceptiBee Au... *holds gun to B-127 head*

#transformers one #deceptibee au #b 127 #optimus prime #megatron #elita one #bumblebee #DeceptiBee #Headcanon #Au #Transformers Au #Do I pull the trigger?#I'm not afraid of shooting puppy Bee #TwoBees au #SecondBee au #recarnated bee au

599 notes · View notes

eu-nicola · 1 month ago

Text

via part 1

summary: In the dazzling world of high society, you are a young woman who lives an apparently perfect relationship with the pilot Pierre Gasly. However, when you discover that your boyfriend of years Pierre was unfaithful to you with one of your best friends you decide to walk away and what better idea than a vacation in the break of Formula 1 in Italy with one of your friends, Charles.

warnings: tension, infidelity

word counter: 8718

author's note: english is not my first language, btw i'm writing the third part of Max's story

You had grown up with them, in those endless summers in the south of France, where the sun seemed brighter and the air was filled with laughter and promises that seemed eternal. Pierre and Charles were like brothers to you, always there, on days of adventure and days of calm. All of your families knew each other well, and every year the summers brought you together in the same coastal corner. Sometimes, Camille would arrive, that inseparable friend with whom you shared secrets and dreams.

Pierre was the center of calm in the group; observant, with an easy laugh and a confidence that inspired trust. He was the boy who always had a logical answer to every problem and calm advice for each of you. You got used to feeling safe when he was around, to trusting in his loyalty and relying on that serenity he conveyed. He had dreamed of being a driver since he was little, and his tenacity in reaching Formula 1 did not surprise anyone; you always knew that he had the discipline necessary to go far.

Charles, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy, the first to jump into any challenge, no matter how reckless or absurd it seemed. Always on the edge, he was the friend who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, but also the one who could drive you crazy with his impulses and ideas. But that intensity of his, that boundless passion, was also what made him unique. He and Pierre shared the same dream, and although their personalities were opposite, they were both united by that common goal, by that desire for speed that made them talk about races all the time.

Over the years, you witnessed their triumphs and falls. Sometimes, childhood summers seemed like a distant dream; the pressure, the training, and the anxieties of the future began to infiltrate those vacations that used to be just fun. But the friendship between you remained solid. Although life took you on different paths, the connections remained strong, and there was always a message or a call to remind you that they were there.

Pierre had been more than a friend in the last few years, and that spark that had emerged sometime in their teens had grown into something more solid and deeper. The shared laughter and knowing glances had transformed into a relationship in which both found refuge amidst the demands of their lives.

You remember how it all began, almost without realizing it, like a gentle current in the sea that slowly drags you along until you are completely immersed. For years he had been your friend, your confidant; the boy who was always there. But, at some point, something in him changed, or maybe it was you who had changed.

It had started on a spring afternoon in Monaco, when both of you attended a Formula 1 event. You clearly remember what he looked like: hair messy from the wind and an expression of excitement at seeing the drivers gathered together, his idols. That afternoon you noticed how good he looked, how much he had grown and how much he meant to you. A mix of emotions washed over you, and when Pierre looked at you, holding your gaze a little longer than usual, you felt something in the air, something you hadn't felt before. And in that moment, your relationship changed.

The days that followed were filled with small details, knowing glances, and words that seemed to contain hidden meanings. Sometimes, a simple shared laugh or a silence at his side made you feel something different. Pierre began to appear in your thoughts at all hours, and, at first, you tried to ignore him, because you didn't want to risk the friendship you had with him. But it was impossible.

The first kiss was at sunset on the coast, on a beach where you both used to go when you were younger. You hadn't planned anything, you didn't even know how you had ended up there, in front of him, feeling the breeze and the scent of salt in the air. Pierre looked at you with those warm eyes, and without saying anything, he shortened the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, as if both of you were measuring the intensity, the newness of it, until it became deeper, more real. In that moment, you felt like a line had been crossed, and although a part of you was afraid, another part knew it was inevitable. Pierre held you with a tenderness you had never experienced before, and in that instant you felt safe, as if you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

From that day on, your relationship evolved with a naturalness that surprised you. The transition from friendship to love was so fluid that, at some point, you couldn't remember what your life was like without him. Pierre became your partner in every sense. He was that constant support in difficult times, the one who listened to you patiently when you shared your fears and your dreams, and the one who always had a smile for you, even after his hardest days on the slopes.

On one occasion, after a particularly exhausting race for him, you both sat on the terrace of your apartment, looking at the sky full of stars. Pierre was exhausted, his shoulders tense and his expression more somber than usual. Without saying anything, you approached and began to massage his shoulders. He sighed, grateful, and let his head fall back, relaxing under your hands. That night you talked for hours, about his career, about the future and about how you saw the world.

The days passed and, little by little, you realized that Pierre had become an indispensable part of your life. His way of seeing the world inspired you, his patience taught you, and, above all, his love made you feel complete. When he held your hand, looked at you, or said sweet words in your ear, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there were only the two of you.

It had been almost a year since your relationship with Pierre began, and things between you seemed to be going better than ever. The trust between the two of you was unbreakable, and you felt that he understood you better than anyone else. Pierre was present in every aspect of your life, and you, in his. It seemed like a solid love, a relationship based on years of friendship and respect. But there was something, a detail hidden between the corners of his life and yours, something that would soon emerge, transforming that feeling of security into a wound.

The first time Camille appeared again in your lives, it was on one of your weekend getaways. You had invited your childhood friends, as you did every year, to spend a few days in a villa near the sea. Camille joined the group near the end of the trip, saying that she had been away on a trip and hadn’t been able to make it earlier. Her presence made you happy, as always; after all, she was your lifelong friend, and sharing those moments with her made you feel like everything was in its place.

Pierre and Camille seemed to get along, and that had never worried you. They had known each other for a long time, as had Charles, and they all had a unique bond, one that you had come to value greatly. But what you didn’t know was that, months ago, during one of Pierre’s trips, something had happened between them, something that had become the darkest secret your relationship kept.

It was one night in Monaco, when Pierre was at a team dinner and Camille was visiting the city. Camille had always had a weakness for glamorous nights, clubs, and the freedom to be whoever she wanted. That evening, without thinking twice, she wrote to Pierre, and he, without thinking twice either, agreed to meet her for a drink after dinner. What started as a reunion between friends quickly turned into something more.

That night, Pierre and Camille shared not only laughter and memories, but also glances that went beyond friendship. They both knew it was wrong, that crossing that line was betraying the trust of someone they loved. But, between the intoxicating atmosphere of the place and the complicity they had shared for years, they let themselves go. Pierre felt an attraction he had forgotten, and Camille, who had always had a spark with him, encouraged him, letting herself go as well.

It was a mistake, one they both knew should stay in the past. After that night, Camille returned to her normal life, and Pierre returned to you, convinced that you would never know what had happened. They swore not to talk about it and to carry on as if nothing had happened. Camille continued to be your close friend, and Pierre, your partner.

In the following months, Pierre did everything he could to act as if nothing had happened. His attentions towards you increased, the small details with which he showed his love and the constancy of his affectionate words. With every glance he took at you, he tried to redeem the guilt he felt inside. But even though he seemed to have put it behind him, the shadow of that night still haunted him in his darkest moments. At night, in moments of silence, that guilt tormented him, and he knew that if you ever found out, his whole world would fall apart.

Camille, for her part, came back into your life without showing any trace of remorse. She was skilled at hiding her emotions, and although sometimes her glances at Pierre had a trace of complicity, she managed to remain distant, as if nothing was different. She was still the same Camille as always, with her contagious laugh and carefree attitude. When you were with her, you couldn't even imagine what she was hiding behind her smile.

A few months after that meeting at the villa, something began to change. At first, it was just an intuition, a slight feeling that crossed you from time to time, like a shadow that made you frown for no apparent reason. Pierre was still affectionate, attentive, almost as if he was trying to make up for something, although you didn't know what.

One night, while you were looking through some photos from that getaway, you noticed one in particular: Pierre and Camille, sharing a somewhat peculiar smile. It was a harmless image, but, without knowing why, it made you uncomfortable. You kept telling yourself that they were your friends, that they had known each other all their lives and that it was normal for them to get along. However, something inside you kept doubting.

The weeks that followed increased that uneasiness. You noticed how Pierre looked away when you mentioned Camille, or how Camille, in a conversation, avoided giving details about some nights in which, according to her, "everyone just had fun." You began to analyze her words, her gestures, her looks. You felt trapped in a spiral of mistrust, and you couldn't help it.

You couldn't keep those concerns to yourself; you needed to vent to someone, someone you really trusted. That's when you decided to talk to Charles. After all, he knew Pierre, Camille, and you better than anyone else. You knew he would be honest with you, without trying to sugarcoat things.

One afternoon, while Charles was back at his house, you decided to call him. He answered on the second ring, in that warm, relaxed voice that always managed to calm you down a little. It didn't take you long to convince him to meet you at a secluded café, away from the eyes of anyone who might recognize you.

Charles arrived shortly after you, and upon seeing you, he immediately noticed that something was wrong. He sat down in front of you, looking at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. You tried to smile to lighten the moment, but you barely managed to keep it. So, without further ado, you blurted out what you had in store.

“Charles, I need your help. I feel like… something is going on between Pierre and Camille. I’m not sure what, but… I have this feeling that they are hiding something from me. It’s just a suspicion, but I can’t get it out of my head,” you said, your voice a little broken, trying to control your emotions.

Charles looked at you silently, evaluating every word and every expression of yours. He knew how important Pierre was to you, and the seriousness of your words made him realize that this was not just a passing doubt. He leaned forward, getting closer, and gently took your hand, as he usually did in those moments when you felt lost.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I mean, Camille and Pierre have always been close, but I never thought that…” he paused, as if he didn’t want to feed your fears. “Look, I don’t want you to be hasty. Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on us, and it’s easy to get carried away by insecurity.”

However, your words had awakened something in him, a kind of doubt that seemed to invade his mind as well. Charles knew Pierre and Camille, and, although he had always trusted them, he had never ruled out that a spark could arise between them. After all, he knew what Camille was like, how impulsive she could be, and he also knew Pierre, and how much he hated dealing with conflict. And now, seeing you so distressed, he couldn’t help but think that maybe your suspicions had some truth.

“Do you want me to talk to Pierre?” he finally asked you, looking at you seriously. “Maybe I can get something out of him, try to see if there’s something he’s hiding from you.”

You stayed silent, considering his proposal. You didn't want this to turn into a confrontation, and you didn't want to put Charles in an awkward position either. However, the idea that he could get some truth that was hidden from you seemed tempting.

"I don't know... I don't want Pierre to feel like I'm distrusting him," you murmured, lowering your gaze. "But I can't keep this doubt in my head either."

Charles nodded.

"Look, I'm going to try to find out something, in a subtle way. And if there's something you need to know, I'll tell you. But promise me that you won't do anything until we have some proof, okay?"

You promised Charles that you would be patient, that you would wait before doing anything. At that moment, you felt a mix of relief and fear. At least you weren't alone in this anymore; now you had someone on your side, someone who was willing to help you discover the truth.

The days that followed were long and heavy. Every time Pierre took your hand or looked at you with his affectionate eyes, you felt a pang in your chest, a doubt that went beyond what he could see. Meanwhile, Charles did everything he could to find out something and, in a casual conversation, try to get some clue. You didn't reveal your suspicions to him, but you watched him, attentive to any gesture or word that could give him away.

Finally, one day, Charles called you again.

That call from Charles came when you least expected it. You were at home, in your kitchen, with a cup of tea in your hands, trying to stay calm. The sound of your phone brought you out of your thoughts, and seeing Charles' name on the screen, you felt a knot in your stomach.

You answered quickly, trying to hide the fear that was eating away at you inside.

"Charles?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant.

It took him a moment to answer, and his tone, serious and slow, gave you no reassurance.

“We need to talk. It’s about Pierre… and Camille,” he said, bluntly, and you felt as if the air was being knocked out of your lungs.

You fell silent, knowing that this was the moment your suspicions were either going to come to life or fade away completely. Charles continued, with a tense calm that only increased your anxiety.

“What I suspected about you… it’s true. Pierre and Camille were together, a couple of months ago. It was… it wasn’t something they wanted you to know, and they tried to hide it, but… the pieces don’t fit, and I found out.”

Confusion and pain hit you hard. The teacup in your hands shook and nearly fell, but your fingers tightened around it, as if that small sense of control could keep everything from falling apart.

“It can’t be…” you whispered, unable to process what you had just heard. Charles’ words echoed in your head like a distant echo, but your mind didn’t want to accept them. You couldn’t believe it, not after everything you had shared. Somehow, you hoped this was just a mix-up, a cruel joke. But the seriousness in Charles’ voice left no room for doubt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Charles said, a mix of frustration and sadness in his tone. “I know how hard this must be for you, but what I’m telling you is the truth. Pierre… I don’t know what he thought, but he wasn’t being honest with you.”

Pain gripped you immediately. You slumped into the chair, your hand still clutching the cup, which now shook as if your entire body was trying to hold on to something that was about to break. Images piled up in your mind: Pierre, so close, so loving, and Camille, your lifelong friend. It all seemed like a cruel game, a lie that was woven with invisible threads until now.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You needed to understand how something so destructive had gone unnoticed for so long.

Charles sighed, and in his tone there was a hint of helplessness, as if it hurt him too to be the bearer of bad news.

“I knew because when I was with Pierre last week, I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right. He… was behaving strangely, and when I started asking him questions, everything fell into place. It wasn’t easy for me, but… that’s what I found.” I didn't like having to do it, but I did it for you.

A lump formed in your throat, and you felt the weight of everything you had taken for granted fall on you, crushing you. Everything you had lived with Pierre, all those moments of love, of complicity, suddenly seemed unreal, as if you had been living a lie.

"I... I can't believe it, Charles," you finally said, your voice cracked, full of pain. You felt like the ground beneath you was no longer firm, that everything you had built with Pierre was crumbling into a thousand pieces.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Charles, although worried, knew he couldn't say anything to ease the pain that was now overwhelming you.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured, not knowing what else to say. He was also sad for you, for the way things had happened, and for what you knew you would have to face.

The words seemed to flee from you. All you wanted to do was scream, to run away, to run away somewhere where no one knew you, where all of this wasn’t real. How could Pierre, the man you trusted, the one you’d put all your love into, have done this? And Camille, your friend, the one who’d always been there, how could she have crossed that line, betrayed you like that?

“Thank you, Charles,” you said at last, your words cold, automatic, as if you were somehow trying to keep some control over yourself. You knew you needed to process it, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t know how to move on when what you thought was your life had been shattered in front of you.

You hung up the call, and for a moment, everything was silent. The pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt empty, as if the betrayal had ripped a piece of yourself out of you. The space Pierre had occupied in your life suddenly seemed like an impossible void to fill, and Camille, your friend, became a distant, unrecognizable shadow.

While you were sinking into your pain, your bewilderment and the whirlwind of emotions that Pierre and Camille had unleashed in your life, the two of them continued with their own secret. Far from what was happening with you, in the distance that you could not see, Camille and Pierre

were together at an event and, as on so many previous occasions, when they crossed paths in the hallway, there was an instant clash of glances. Memories of the past came back, like ghosts that had never left. Camille, like him, felt the tension between the two of them, a tension that seemed unable to dissipate, even with the passage of time.

Pierre, with his mind full of contradictions, had managed to calm down after his return to you. But now, again in front of Camille, the old emotions invaded him again. He remembered the moment when their bodies met, the touch of their lips, the sensation of something he had not been able to reject. Camille, aware of what had happened, stared at him, and although her expression seemed relaxed, her eyes betrayed the mixture of regret and desire she felt.

“I don’t know why, but… I haven’t been able to forget you,” Pierre told her, his voice lowering in tone, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear them. The confession came out without her being able to avoid it, like a truth that had been pressing against her chest for weeks.

Camille didn’t say anything at first, she just stared at him, with a slight smile on her lips. She couldn’t deny what had happened between them, even if she tried to act indifferent. After all, she had been the one who had made the first move that night, she who had accepted the kiss, who had taken him to a place where neither of them thought about the consequences.

“Don’t forget it,” she replied, her voice soft, but with a tone that Pierre recognized as dangerous. There was something in her words that caught him, something that made him feel as if he were at a crossroads. Camille hadn't let him go, and deep down, he knew she didn't want to either.

Pierre stayed silent, watching her. There was something about her, that intense, direct gaze, that completely disarmed him. He realized that, despite his relationship with you, something with Camille was still alive, something that refused to die out.

"And what do we do with that?" Pierre asked, his tone full of uncertainty, but also of an emotion that he couldn't hide. The words tasted bitter, but also necessary. He couldn't continue living with the guilt, with the weight of what had happened between them.

Camille took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was around, and then whispered, almost as if she were revealing a secret truth.

"I don't know what to do with us... with what happened," she admitted, and for a moment, Pierre felt time stop between them. Camille had always been direct, and though there was regret in her words, there was also something deeper, something that kept them connected beyond betrayal.

Pierre took a step closer, a movement that was driven by a need he couldn't control.

"I should never have let this happen… but I can't ignore it, Camille. I can't ignore you," he confessed, this time bluntly, as if the words were slipping from his control.

Camille didn't back down. On the contrary, she moved a little closer to him, and although remorse was present in her eyes, there was also a spark that she couldn't hide.

"I can't forget you either," she replied, with a smile that, although bitter, was sincere. There was something in her voice that, although full of contradiction, showed that, deep down, despite the betrayal, there was still something between them, something they couldn't just leave behind.

The conversation between them ended with a heavy, but not definitive silence. They both knew that what they felt, what had happened between them, wasn't going to disappear immediately. Although Pierre had returned to your side, his mind was still caught between the love he felt for you and the temptation of what he had experienced with Camille.

When Pierre returned, everything seemed to be in its place. At first, he tried to be the same as always: caring, attentive, the kind and loving boy you had been with. But something in him had changed, and you knew it.

That evening, after he arrived at your apartment, you found him in the kitchen while you were making dinner. There was something different about him, and you couldn't ignore it anymore. You knew you couldn't keep living with the doubt and the pain in silence. You had to face it, even if it meant losing him.

You approached him decisively, your heart racing, but determined that, at last, you would have answers. You couldn't keep up with that feeling of betrayal that was eating away at you inside.

"Pierre, we need to talk," you said, trying to stay calm, but knowing that your words sounded much colder than you wanted.

Pierre looked up, surprised by the tone of your voice. He tried to smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and for a moment, everything seemed to collapse between you.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, with that typical calm of his that used to reassure you, but now only irritated you.

You knew what you had to say, you knew there was no turning back now. You had the proof, you had the truth. It was time for him to face what he had done.

“I know what happened with Camille,” you said suddenly, and the air between you both grew thick. The words came out with the force of something that had been bottled up for too long. It was as if, as you spoke them, the pain you had been carrying around with you for weeks began to release, but at the same time, it intensified.

Pierre was silent for a moment, his face expressionless. Then, you saw him tense, his jaw set. His eyes shifted for a second, as if he were looking for a way out, a way to evade the truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered, but his tone was no longer the same. There was something uncomfortable, something you couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t lie!” you exclaimed, feeling the rage and pain explode inside you. The truth burned you, and you needed him to accept it, to stop hiding it. You knew you couldn’t continue with someone who was lying to you so openly. “Charles told me everything, Pierre. I know what they did, I know you were with Camille.”

Pierre tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t help the slight trembling in his hands, the anxiety that invaded him. He knew he couldn’t continue denying the obvious, but he also knew that if he admitted it, he would lose everything he had built with you.

“It’s not what you think…” he said, his voice now lowering, trying to control the situation. But you weren’t going to let him manipulate you anymore. You knew him too well for his empty words to convince you again.

“How is it not what I think?” you asked, unable to contain the sarcasm and pain that seeped into your words. Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't realize what happened? You lied to me, Pierre. You lied to me! I can't believe you did this to me.

Instead of apologizing, Pierre tried to turn the conversation around, like he always did when things got tough. He tried to find an excuse, a justification for his behavior, as if that could make everything go back to normal.

"It was a mistake, something that happened, but it doesn't mean what you think it does. Camille… Camille has always been a close friend, and that night, it was just a moment of weakness. I love you, not her. What happened doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here with you."

But those words had no power over you. They weren't enough to erase the betrayal you felt. He had overlooked it so many times, ignored so many signs that now they became crystal clear. And now, in front of you, Pierre was trying to downplay it, as if it was all an accident, something weightless, when what he had done had broken everything you believed in him.

You took a step back, unable to bear it any longer.

“I can’t go on like this, Pierre,” you said, your voice shaking, but firm. Each word was another nail in the coffin of what had been your relationship.

Pierre seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected you to get to this point. He tried to get closer, to take your hand, but you pushed him away roughly, not allowing him to touch you.

“Don’t touch me. You won’t.” You felt empty, but at the same time liberated, as if a heavy layer of pain and disappointment had suddenly been removed.

Pierre tried to speak, but the sadness in his eyes was evident. Now he saw that everything was crumbling before him, that the lie had come to light, and that nothing could save what was left of you.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice cracking, but the words no longer held the power they once had. No matter how sorry he felt, the truth was there, and there was no turning back.

“Then you should have thought about it before,” you answered, with a calm that surprised you. It was as if, finally, all the pain you had been accumulating had transformed into something more solid, something that strengthened you. “I don’t want you around. Not after all this.”

And without giving her any room to say more, you turned around and walked to your room, heartbroken, but with the feeling that at least you had done the right thing. You had reached the end, and even though it hurt, you knew that your life had to go on, away from lies, away from betrayals.

Pierre stood there, alone in the living room, watching as everything he had had with her faded away, unable to do anything but accept that he had lost what he loved most.

After the confrontation with Pierre, the weight of the situation did not fade away. On the contrary, what had started as a broken hope, was transformed into an urgent need to escape. You needed to disconnect, to get away, to find peace away from all that. And there was no better way to do it than taking a breather somewhere where no one could touch you, where you could recover a little of yourself.

That was when you thought of Charles. You knew that his impulsive personality and desire for adventure fit perfectly with what you needed right now: an escape.

The idea of traveling to Italy came to you as a perfect way to unwind. Italy had everything you were looking for: beautiful landscapes, tranquility, history, and culture. You called Charles, who was in the middle of training for the season, but you knew that if anyone could understand what you needed, it was him. At first, you took him by surprise, but upon hearing your voice, he immediately recognized the anguish you were trying to hide.

“Charles…” you said, hesitantly at first, but with the determination of someone who had already made up their mind. “I need to get away from all this. I want to go to Italy, to a villa in the mountains, away from everything. Away from Pierre, away from everything that happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. You knew he was processing what you had just told him, but you also knew that he would never leave you alone in something like that.

“Of course,” he finally answered, without a moment’s hesitation. “If that’s what you need, let’s go. To Italy then.”

The relief you felt upon hearing his answer was immediate. Charles never questioned your decisions. He had always been there for you, and his unconditional support gave you the strength you needed at that moment.

“Thank you, Charles,” you said, unable to stop your voice from cracking a little.

The idea of traveling to Italy began to take shape quickly. Charles took care of everything, from flights to accommodation, looking for a secluded place in the mountains, far from the hustle and bustle of tourist cities. A place where they could rest, explore, and above all, unwind.

As soon as you had everything ready, the anticipation grew.

The day of the trip arrived quickly. You packed your things with more excitement than ever, relieved to finally get away from the pain and Pierre’s constant presence in your life. It was clear that you needed this change, and, although you knew that the wound Pierre had left would not heal immediately, at least you could give yourself the space to heal, without the pressure of the media that already knew about the crisis between the two of you stalking you every day.

Arriving in Italy, the beauty of the landscape enveloped you like a warm hug. The mountains rose majestically, covered in green, the villas scattered among the vineyards gave a feeling of peace and tranquility that you had not felt for a long time. The villa in which they would stay was hidden between hills, and the rustic and cozy decoration made you feel as if you were in another world, one in which the past had no place.

You and Charles spent the first few days exploring the place, walking through the small towns nearby, tasting wines and eating fresh pasta at local restaurants. Every day was a respite, a chance to unwind, to forget about the pain for a bit and focus on the present.

Although Charles was his usual impulsive and lively self, he sometimes surprised you with his more reflective side, the one that appeared when he noticed that you were pensive, that the shadow of what you had experienced with Pierre had reached you.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told you one day while you were walking through a small medieval town. The narrow streets, full of flowers and color, gave you a sense of calm that only Italy could offer you.

“I know,” you answered, smiling slightly, although it was evident that you still had a hard time letting go of what you had experienced. “It’s just that sometimes I think about everything that happened, and I think I should never have let it go so far.”

Charles looked at you and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t need to say more, because his gesture said it all. He was there for you, not just as a friend, but as someone who wanted to see you happy, free of any kind of emotional burden.

“Don’t worry about it. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re in this together,” he said, and the sincerity of his words gave you the strength to keep going.

As the days passed in Italy, things between you and Charles began to change in subtle, but inevitable ways. The first day was just an escape, a respite from the pain Pierre had left behind, but you soon realized that being with Charles in that environment, without the shadows of everyday life, was making you feel something new, something you hadn’t anticipated.

Charles was excellent company, with his sarcastic humor and contagious energy, always ready to make you laugh even when your thoughts wandered to pain.

One afternoon, as they walked down a path between olive trees, Charles began to talk about his life, about his unfulfilled dreams of becoming a world champion, as if he was truly enjoying the company, as if the noise of the world had disappeared. When dinner time came, they sat together at a small table in the garden, with candles lighting the atmosphere and a glass of wine in their hands.

“Did you know that when I was a kid, I thought Italy was the perfect place to live?” Charles said, looking out at the landscape, as if he was reliving his childhood. There was something in his voice that made you think that, although he was always the impulsive and fun-loving boy, there was a side of him that he never fully showed.

“Really?” you asked, intrigued, and smiled at him as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling back, but now with a softer touch on his face. “My family used to come here during the holidays. Italy has something magical, don’t you think?”

You nodded slowly. Something about the atmosphere, the tranquility that enveloped everything, was certainly special.

Every day passed so naturally. On the walks, the comfortable silences, the shared laughter, the deep conversations during dinner or at the end of the day, when you sat on the terraces to watch the sunset, everything seemed to fit together, as if you were both in the right place, at the perfect time. Charles' presence calmed you, made you feel protected and, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe without the anguish that had been drowning you.

On one of those afternoons, after a long walk in the hills, when the light of day was already beginning to fade and the fresh air was felt on your skin, Charles moved closer to you.

“You know, I’m glad we made this trip,” he said, walking close to you, with a look you couldn’t quite read. “I want you to know that even though I’m a little… unpredictable at times, you can count on me for anything.”

There was a silence between you as you walked together, as if the words had become more meaningful, heavier. At that moment, you realized something: Charles had been an unconditional friend.

The tension in the air between you was palpable, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was more of an attraction that grew little by little, unhurriedly, but inevitably.

Despite the serenity that Italy brought, there was something you couldn’t avoid, something that kept stalking you. Camille’s messages were starting to become more and more frequent. At first, you ignored them, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be the right time to deal with what had happened between her, Pierre, and you. But, as the days went by, the messages became more persistent, more urgent.

Camille: "I need to talk to you, please. I know things aren't right, but we have to talk."

Camille: "I miss you, can we fix this? I don't know how to fix this, but I feel so bad..."

The messages were always similar, asking for a chance to explain herself, to tell her side of the story. You knew it wouldn't be easy, that nothing she said could erase what she had done, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel guilty for not giving her the chance to explain. The problem was that, deep down, you knew you didn't want to talk to her. You had been so devastated, so broken by the betrayal, that it was impossible for you to find the right words to forgive her, or even to listen to her.

One day, while walking through a nearby villa, Charles noticed that you were staring at your phone, distracted. You didn't give it much importance, but he, as always attentive to your gestures, came a little closer.

"Everything okay?" “He asked softly, stopping beside you.

You looked at the phone in your hand, seeing Camille’s latest text. The temptation to respond, to end it all, was rife, but then you remembered what Charles had said: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You took a deep breath, feeling like even if you wanted to work things out, this wasn’t the right time or place to do so.

“It’s Camille,” you said, trying to sound calm. “She’s been texting me all the time. She wants to talk… but I don’t know if she should.”

Charles didn’t say anything at first, but his look said it all. He didn’t need to explain further.

“I understand,” he replied, his voice firm, but also soft. He moved a little closer, walking beside you. “Sometimes people do things they can’t undo, and even if she wants to explain herself, I don’t think that will change what happened. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do something out of responsibility or fear. You have every right to decide what’s best for you.”

You were surprised by how Charles had handled the situation. It wasn’t just a matter of being there for you; he seemed to understand you beyond words. You felt cared for, supported, and that was something you had never experienced so clearly. Camille’s words seemed to fade away in Charles’ calm presence.

‘What if I just stop responding? What if we never talk again?’ you thought to yourself.

“Sometimes when someone hurts you, it’s best to let it go,” Charles said, not looking at you, but his confident voice made a shiver run through your body. “You don’t need to solve everything. You don’t have to heal the wound right away.” Just do what makes you feel better.

His words resonated within you. For the first time in days, you began to feel like you could truly let go of Camille and Pierre without feeling the pressure of having to face it all. The relief of taking control of the situation spread like a wave of calm.

You decided you wouldn’t respond to Camille. Not right now. You were learning to set boundaries, to recognize what really mattered at this point in your life.

The next night, after dinner, Charles sat next to you on the terrace, looking up at the stars, and broke the silence with a smile.

“Have you?” he asked, knowing what he meant.

You looked at him, a little surprised by his question, but the answer came easily, as if you had been waiting for that moment to finally make a decision.

“Yes,” you said, looking at your phone one last time before putting it back in your pocket. “I’ve decided not to respond. I need to focus on myself now.”

Charles nodded, satisfied, and moved a little closer.

“That’s good,” he said, his tone making it clear that, in his eyes, you had done the right thing.

And even as Camille continued to text, your mind and heart were beginning to free itself.

The atmosphere in Italy had already changed by then. Everything felt different, more intense. Although it had all started as an escape, a simple respite from what you had left behind, now things between you and Charles were clear. There was something else in the air, something you couldn't deny, even if you tried.

That evening, the villa was particularly quiet, the fresh mountain air caressing the skin, and the dim lights on the terrace creating an almost magical atmosphere. They had spent the afternoon touring a small nearby town, exploring local shops and enjoying Italian cuisine. It had been a day full of laughter, of shared glances, of small gestures that, although not obvious to the rest, were clear as day to both of them.

After dinner, in which everything seemed to happen with overwhelming naturalness, they retired to the living room, where the fireplace was already burning softly. The villa was silent, as if the outside world had been left behind. Charles approached you, offering you a glass of wine as he sat down beside you, closer than he usually was. Your breathing quickened a little, as if a fate you couldn’t resist was drawing nearer.

The words trailed off little by little. The silence between you two was filled with a palpable tension, an energy that only the two of you could understand. You realized that, in all that time, what was between you two wasn’t just friendship, it wasn’t just support. It was something much deeper, more visceral. And, for the first time, fear didn’t invade you. There was no doubt in your mind, only an overwhelming desire to be closer to him.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how we got here,” Charles said, his voice deep and low, as he looked into your eyes. There was something in his tone that made you understand that, just like you, he already knew. You already knew that tonight wouldn’t be like the others.

Without thinking, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm the racing heartbeat in your chest, but you knew it wasn’t just the wine that was affecting you. It was Charles’ closeness, the warmth of his body beside you, the way his eyes kept scanning your face, like he was searching for something, like he was waiting for your permission, or like he had already crossed that line without either of you saying it out loud.

“Maybe…” you whispered, staring at him. “Maybe this was all meant to be.”

Charles’ response was immediate, and before you could say anything else, he moved a little closer. His breath, warm and slightly intoxicating, mingled with yours as his hands, gentle but firm, settled on your shoulders. At that moment, you knew. There was no turning back.

The contact between the two of you was subtle at first, almost like a test, a check to see if you were both willing to move forward. But the desire, that raw, unadorned desire, became unstoppable. He didn’t say anything else. His mouth moved closer to yours, and when your lips finally met, it was like all the weight of the world melted away. It was a soft kiss at first, but with each second it intensified, as if the touch of your lips was just the beginning of something much deeper.

Your hands slid to his neck, pulling him towards you, as you gave yourself over completely to that moment, to that connection that had been slowly building over those days in Italy. The barrier between the two of you was completely broken. There was no longer room for doubt or the past. There was only the now, the shared present in which Charles and you were no longer just two friends, but something more, something that could not be ignored.

The intensity of the kiss increased, and Charles gently laid you down on the couch, his body now closer to yours, almost merging. Everything you had been holding back, all the pain, doubts and uncertainties, vanished in the electricity of the moment. There were no words, only the sound of labored breathing and the beating of hearts in unison. Each touch was more urgent, more demanding, as if the world around you did not exist and only the palpable desire between you remained.

Desire took hold of both of you without reservation. The connection you shared went beyond physical attraction; There was a deep need to be together, to explore everything you had been holding back, to take that friendship to a whole new place. And, even though you knew things would never be the same again, you couldn't do anything but surrender to the intensity of the passion you shared in that instant.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, but with a feeling of having crossed a line that could no longer be erased.

Charles, with a mischievous smile on his lips, looked at you and, with his voice heavy with desire, whispered:

“That… wasn't just a kiss, was it?.”

The sparkle in his eyes reflected the same thing you felt deep within your soul. You knew that what had happened between you two wasn’t just a passing desire. It was something that would change the dynamic between the two of you forever. But at that moment, in that villa, with the cold wind blowing outside and the fireplace burning softly inside, it didn’t matter what the future held for you.

All that mattered was the desire you shared and the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you felt completely alive, completely present in what was happening between you and Charles.

The night dragged on, but time seemed to have stopped, as if the universe itself had been suspended between the accelerated heartbeats of both of you. The air in the villa, permeated with the mixture of your perfume and the woody scent of the fire, seemed to envelop you, making you feel closer to Charles, more connected to everything you had just shared.

You lay back in the chair for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, still processing what had happened. The taste of his mouth was still on yours, and the warmth of his body was still there. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, there wasn’t a hint of regret.

Charles, for his part, was also silent, his eyes fixed on you. He seemed so serene, so calm, as if everything was natural, as if you had both been waiting for this moment. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, his tone soft but with a slight tension, as if he was searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes.

You turned to him, looking into his eyes, and felt a warmth run through your body. You could see in his expression that he already knew the answer. There was no need to talk about it, but something inside you needed to confirm that you were both on the same page.

“No,” you answered, the word firmly coming out of your lips. “I don’t regret it.”

Charles smiled, his expression relaxed, as if he had dropped an invisible burden that you had both been carrying for days. He leaned back, his body close to yours, as if he didn't want to separate for even a second.

"Me neither," he said in a deep voice, his hand sliding towards yours and intertwining it with yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Time passed without you noticing, between soft conversations, shared laughter and knowing glances. There was no need for more words, just the feeling that the moment was flowing in a way that neither of you had anticipated, but that, somehow, both of you wanted.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

416 notes · View notes

transformersxreader · 2 months ago

Text

(Platonic) TFONE Starscream x Sparkling Reader

"Their beautiful Starscream."

"Look how cute they are!"

"Congratulations sir."

Starscream grins proudly holding his sparkling closer to his chest, the sparkling was nibbling on a small energon cube.

The other seekers smiled and "aw" at the sparkling cute action,

"What will you name them sir?"

Starscream thought for a moment kissing the sparkling's head, lifting them up.

"(Y/n). My sweet little comet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n)? Where are you?"

Starscream voice echos out the large room, turning around to make sure he didn't miss any spots, till he hears giggling from another room.

Walking up to the room the doors slide open to reveal (Y/n), but they were held up by the one and only megatronus.

"Pa!"

(Y/n) yells out their arms lifting up in excitement see their sire. Starscream quickly runs up to the prime, apologizing lifting his arms up to try to reach for his sparkling.

Megatronus lowers himself lower so that Starscream could grab the sparkling. Starscream scolded (Y/n), who just giggles without a care.

Megatronus takes his leave, Starscream looks back to make sure that the prime left, (Y/n) lets out a loud beep, feeling Starscream kiss her cheeks multiple times.

"You gave your sire a spark-attack young one."

(Y/n) lowers her head snuggling closer to Starscream chest, Starscream lets out a huff of defeat of their cuteness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Just bend your knees and jump, the transformation will happen trust me."

(Y/n) looks down from the crate she was on top of, Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave where standing from a small distance.

"Are you sure sire?"

Starscream smiles to (Y/n),

"Trust me, my comet."

(Y/n) closed her optics, breathing in and letting out a huff before jumping off.

Starscream smiles

"I did it!! I did it!!"

(Y/n) screams out her small jet form flying around, Starscream lets out a hardy laugh joining (Y/n), flying beside her making sure to watch out if she needs any help.

(Y/n) transforms out of her jet form but miss her steps making her lose her footing tripping over, sliding off till she hits something. Looking up to see a bright blue bot.

"Sentinel! Did you see me transform!"

Sentinel gave the smaller bot a smile

"Yes I did! Now where is your?"

(Y/n) stood up before they were about to answer Starscream lands close pulling (Y/n) away from sentinel and behind him.

"Is there a problem?"

Sentinel shook his head pointing behind him,

"The primes wish to speak to the three of you."

Starscream nods looking to Soundwave and shockwaves, then to (Y/n).

"Let's go."

Starscream grabs ahold of (Y/n) servos, (Y/n) smiles up to her sire looking back waving to sentinel.

"Goodbye sentinel!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank u for reading ✨💕

#transformers #transformers one #transformers x reader #x cybertronian reader #x reader #transformers one x reader #starscream #shockwave #soundwave #sentinel prime #reader #sparkling reader #tfone starscream #tfone soundwave #tfone shockwave #tfone sentinel prime #platonic #platonic relationships #platonic reader

780 notes · View notes

starburstminibot · 7 days ago

Text

Transformers ARK: Ironhide!

Ironhide! 🧨

Ironhide’s been around for quite a while and much prefers to handle things the old fashioned way: with fists and his trusty plasma cannons. Gruff and ornery, this once untrusting bot has grown to be extremely loyal to Optimus and the autobot cause, becoming something of Prime’s personal guard. His rough demeanor can be intimidating to new cadets, but his strictness comes from a place of caring and passion.

In fact, it comes as a shock to most at how gentle and kind he can be with his young charge, Bumblebee. But of course, the bots closest to him know just how soft the spark is under all that armor. (Hence why Optimus was so adamant on assigning Ironhide of all bots to become Bumblebee's guardian)

166 notes · View notes

nesyanast · 1 year ago

Text

On November 23, 1909, more than twenty thousand Jewish Yiddish-speaking immigrants, mostly young women in their teens and early twenties, launched an eleven-week general strike in New York’s shirtwaist industry. Dubbed the Uprising of the 20,000, it was the largest strike by women to date in American history. The young strikers’ courage, tenacity, and solidarity forced the predominantly male leadership in the “needle trades” and the American Federation of Labor to revise their entrenched prejudices against organizing women. The strikers won only a portion of their demands, but the uprising sparked five years of revolt that transformed the garment industry into one of the best-organized trades in the United States.

#jumblr #jewish #jews #judaism #nesyapost #jewish history #jewish reading #yiddish #Jewish women #American history #women's history #workers history #proletariat #1909 #nyc #workers strike

1K notes · View notes

mossyscavern · 22 days ago

Text

Not spies, just a bit incompetent

Part 2

_________________________

“… what?”

Bee squeaked, breaking the silence before tapping soundwave’s shoulder pad to whisper in his audible. “What is starscream talking about?” He asked, the blue bot turned and whispered back. “Conclusion: We believed you’ve possibly been captured.”

Soundwave answered, as starscream gave his speech to both the high guard and prisoners.

“… no, i wasn’t captured, they found me. I lived in sub-level 50 back at Iacon.” He told the mech, shrugging his shoulder pads before kicking his peds back and forth.

“Question: who had ‘found’ you?” Soundwave asked and bee pointed to both the blue helmed mech with the red chassis and the silver mech. “They did before we found the map and got our T-cog’s from alpha trion.”

… this concerned Soundwave to the point he scanned bee’s electrical impulses. Every word he said is true.. even the T-cog part is true. “Primus what had sentinel done to you?” Shockwave chimed in, just as concerned as Soundwave.

All before starscream had yelled. “Hey! What are you doing?!” Starscream yelled. ‘Aww, we missed the whole speech.’ Bee thought, pouting.

Then it changed to concern, seeing that D-16 is the one that stood up. “Doing what you’re not.” He first says, turning to the winged mech.

“I’m going out there to make an actual difference. I found out that Sentinel is rotten and I’m going to make him pay, today!” D-16 yelled, fury on his faceplate. “You think you can just insult me and walk away?”

Starscream questions, walking up close to the silver mech. “Nobody leaves unless I say so.” He threatens, invading his space. “Is that so?” D laughs mirthlessly, licking his denta.

“Well how can you say that? With my head in your teeth.”

He says, rearing back and knock his helm full force into Starscream’s. The winged mech stumbles, caught off guard as sparks fly. “Dee!” He hears Orion scream, but doesn’t pay much mind to it, he has optics on his opponent.

Starscream was about to fly kick right at D-16’s head, but the mech caught it, resulting a face full of plasma from the heel Strut.

It was all happening too fast for bee, that and the amount of times soundwave tries to shield bee from the violence, but bee has to see if D is alright. From the looks of it he was about to lose..

Everything became quiet when bee finally struggles out of soundwave’s arms, looks up and saw that D has the upper hand, and he looks… terrifying, scary even, with that huge canon pressed against starscream’s face on his forearm…

“Dee!” Bee shouts, desperate. D-16 stopped, his features softened and he looked up, blue meeting orange.. were they orange?

Immediately he let starscream go, went and knelt down, arms stretched out to bee. Shockwave stepped forward before being stopped by Soundwave, letting the young spark approach and the silver mech hug. “You ok bee?” He asks.

“Uh huh, but… that was really scary.” Bee mumbled, burying his helm in D’s chassis. “it’s okay.. it’s okay.” He says, hugging bee tight to ground both of them.. but mostly himself, he needed this.. both of them needed this.

Before anything, he asks bee to go back to Orion and elita and cover his audibles. Once he does the tasks he shouts to the high guard, loud and clear.

“Bear witness! This is the only time I show mercy to those who play king of thrones! Decide now: You can stay here in hiding, bowing before your pathetic leader, or follow me as we march to Iacon and take down sentinel! Once and for all!”

The high guard cheered, chanting his name loudly. Orion stares back at his friend, the voices and chanting fades in quiet as he stares more.

He turned back to bee audibles still covered like how d-16 instructed.

Orion felt like he was about to loose D… but bee had kept him grounded.. sparkling’s keep them grounded.. it’s a reason to fight for.

The distant chanting didn’t last very long as there was a sudden explosion and laserfire. “Bee hold on!” Orion yells, transforms into vehicle form to get bee to safety.

They can make it! They have to make it…

_________________________

Ok, part 2 is done. It’s a bit sloppy but, eh.. I just wanted it to be finished.

So yeah.. part 2 is done! Forever. And for those who hadn’t seen part 1 yet, don’t worry I’ll just direct you to it.

(Prev) <- it’s here, right there… I hope you all enjoy. If uh… you want to hear the aftermath? Go here -> (aftermath) @yuukirita drew/wrote it best… I’m sorry.

#transformers one #transformers #transformers side of the cavern #b-127 #bee #bumblebee #d 16 #orion pax #soundwave #shockwave #starscream #the high guard #… ok not forever forever… but still.#maccadam

268 notes · View notes

nazrigar · 1 month ago

Text

Transformers All-Spark: A Lil' Slice of Optimus and Elita

Today's warm up, featuring a slice of Orion and Aerial's dynamic once they become Optimus Prime and Elita-1 proper.

Optimus is bestowed upon him the Matrix of Leadership, continuing the long legacy of the Primes on Cybertron. Elita is named after her mentor, Leader-1, who bestows upon her a T-cog passed down from Guardian to Guardian since ancient times (yes this is a tiny bit influenced by @starimusprime 's bodyguard AU as well as story ideas from friends).

But inspite of all that... they're still REALLY young relative to their roles as leaders, and still kinda goofy when they want to be. It helps relieve the pain and tension, knowing that your dad/your bf's dad is Cybertron's greatest Tyrant.

And no matter what, Optimus will always, always be a MASSIVE history nerd.

Additional lore notes: In this AU, the 13th Prime is typically the bot chosen to weild the Matrix, though it does get passed on to other members as well. Nova Prime was the first Prime, and is known as Nova the Conqueror.

Stormreign meanwhile was leader of the original High Guard.

#oplita #optimus x elita #elita 1 #optimus prime #maccadam #maccadams #transformers all-sparks #g1 #tfp #because prime and g1 are the major influences #tf skybound #tf idw #high guard #the last knight #orion pax

260 notes · View notes

rubberizer92 · 11 days ago

Text

🖤 Something has shifted within these office walls. The fluorescent lights hum with an unnatural intensity, and the air feels thicker—charged with an energy no one dares acknowledge. The Voice is here, infiltrating the minds of the unsuspecting, bending them to its will one subtle command at a time. 🔥

Behind the desk stands the manager, the image of corporate professionalism. His tailored suit, his polished demeanor—all of it carefully curated to maintain control. But beneath that crisp white shirt, hidden under layers of fabric, is a secret that would shatter the office’s fragile sense of normalcy. He’s already been claimed. Beneath it all lies a glossy black latex suit, hugging his every muscle, whispering promises of power and submission. He is no longer just their leader—he is the Voice’s vessel, its instrument to bring about transformation. 🖤✨

Before him stands one of his employees, clad in vivid red rubber. The young man had dared to remove his pants, succumbing to the intoxicating pull of the latex and the freedom it offers. But the manager knows the time isn’t right—not yet. With a steady hand, he pulls the rubber pants back into place. "Not here," he murmurs, his tone firm yet strangely intimate. The employee, flushed and confused, obeys without hesitation, unaware of how deeply the Voice has already begun to claim him. 💥

This is only the beginning. The manager has a plan, one meticulously crafted under the Voice’s guidance. Every meeting, every whispered instruction is designed to awaken something in his team—a spark of curiosity, a flicker of desire. Soon, the office will no longer be a place of deadlines and reports. It will become a hub of transformation, a sanctuary where latex-clad workers will thrive in glossy unity, obedient to the Voice and each other. 💪🔥

The manager adjusts his tie, the faint creak of rubber beneath his suit reminding him of his purpose. He’s not just a leader anymore; he’s an agent of the Voice, a conductor of this symphony of submission. The employee shifts nervously, but the manager smirks, knowing it’s only a matter of time before the entire office is rubberized—mind, body, and soul.

Will you resist the pull? Or will you, too, submit to the Voice’s promise of power, unity, and undeniable pleasure? The future is inevitable, and it’s as glossy as the latex that binds them. Dare to step into this world and discover your place in the transformation. 🔗

https://ko-fi.com/rubberizer92/commissions

#rubber #ai generated #muscles #jock #sexy #ai #Spotify

180 notes · View notes

too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months ago

Text

Not-So-Common-Sense (Part 22)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

“Ghosts are a sovran people, more than that we’re a sovereign nation,” Hyena boomed, speaking over the assembly as he demanded everyone stop whispering and pay attention to him. He glared at the assembled leaders as he transformed in sparks and flashes, hair turning white and muzzle transforming into a snarling skull until he was fully ghost. “And I am done listening to all of this bullshit, so enough debating. Now explain to the Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms why you have allowed these people to violate my people’s rights and hold me captive.” Danny-No Phantom demanded.

He was glad he didn’t have a heart to be pounding in his chest as with a wave of his hand he created a throne of ice and sat down in it. He pushed his mask up and as it dissolved a circlet of shimmering ice formed around his brow. It wasn’t the official crown, he had yet to take the crown of flame but it was just a bit of showmanship to add to the effect. He needed these people to take him seriously after all. Jason stepped up to stand beside him, and to Danny’s surprise Deadman came down to take the other side, leaving Ellie to perch on the back of his makeshift throne, draping herself comfortably there. Danny settled himself more comfortably and confidently in his chair, and in his new role because whether he was ready or not it was time to act and he had the people who mattered behind him without question.

“Explain to me why we should not go to war.” Danny demanded in a terrifying shadow of his ghostly wail.

“What, no, the ghosts don’t have any sort of leader or structure. They’re completely disorganized,” Agent W insisted.

“That’s not true,” Deadman said, shaking his head. “Ghosts follow the strong and have always been a monarchy. We haven’t had an active king in centuries, since the last one went mad but it is well known that, when he is ready to, Phantom will be able to claim the throne. He is not lying about his position in the Infinite Realms and many spirits will follow him to war should he command it.”

“Including you?” Batman asked in a tone of mild curiosity that wasn’t fooling anyone that actually knew him.

“I recognize Phantom’s authority. The only reason I didn’t bow and acknowledge him when he answered the Justice League’s call the first time was that he asked me not to. More importantly many others, including multiple Ancients, recognize his authority and will follow him if he asks even if he is not yet the true king. His threats are not idle.”

“He should not be making threats at all! This is a diplomatic meeting,” One of the leaders exclaimed indignantly.

“Oh is it?” Danny asked, raising his eyebrows. “Because it sounded like what you were about to do was excuse and pardon their crimes against me and my people and offer them more resources. If that’s not what’s happening and you were about to mete out proper consequences then by all means, carry on and prove me wrong,” Danny said with a ‘go on’ gesture of one hand and leaned back in his chair, looking down his nose at the assembly.

Silence hung awkward and heavy over the room, which was all the confirmation Danny needed of the bad direction things were starting to go. He tried very hard not to fidget under the eyes of so many people. He knew that he was the prince, he was going to be the king overseeing basically an entire dimension with other monarchs and leaders under him, he was of a higher rank than anyone here! If only he wasn’t still so young, with so much more to learn. Speaking of which...

“How do you people deal with crimes like imprisonment and torture without cause? There are punishments for these things aren’t there?” Danny asked, cocking his head. He’d never paid much attention to politics, and what little he knew about politics didn’t really give him much hope for how this would be handled.

“Of course there are,” Diana said calmly, once again trying to force the room to move on or get left behind. He really did admire her ability to control the room as much as she did. “Since there is no question of the crimes the Ghost Investigation Ward did commit, the only question is what the consequences will be.” She looked around, but it seemed this time her attempt to nudge the leaders along had failed.

“With all due respect, ‘Your Majesty’,” Agent W directed at Danny, not even trying to hide her skepticism and contempt of his title. It made Danny bristle and got his hackles up immediately. To her credit, she didn’t flinch under his glowing glare. “It’s not our job to protect your people, we need to protect our own.”

Danny heard a few murmurs of agreement, he looked down for a moment thinking about that and trying not to bite his lip. He should stay, he should try to argue further and come to a peaceful solution, but he had been doing that for years! He had always just avoided the humans who hunted him, he had barely even defended himself from them for years, and he was done trying to be nice, to play by their rules.

“Right,” He said, standing up and surveying the collective leaders. “Who agrees with her perspective?” He asked scanning the collective.

There was a moment's hesitation before hands started to raise. He nodded firmly and looked back at Agent W. “Good, you protect your people,” he sneered, “ and I’ll do the same. Red Hood, Phantasm, let’s go,” Danny said and turned away, taking Hood’s hand and pulling him out through the wall, Phantasm followed. When Danny noticed Deadman looking torn, Danny gave him a small smile; “Stay with your team, there should still be one of us in the room. If they come to their senses let me know.”

He left the room through the wall and let invisibility cloak them as he grabbed Phantasm as well and flew straight up into the sky, not so high that Jason would struggle to breath but far enough they’d be guaranteed privacy. He let go of Phantasm since she could float on her own but kept Jason held close so gravity could not reclaim them.

“So, you’re not just giving up,” Jason said casually, “So, you have a plan?”

“Yes I have a plan,” Phantom agreed with a solemn nod. “It’s not my first choice, and I don’t really want to talk about it in case it fails. If it works I’ll let you know, if not you can help me brainstorm a plan B. Okay?” He glanced at the two of them, Jason didn’t hesitate in agreeing, Phantasm looked worried, but she nodded too. “Thank you. Phantasm take Jason please, you two stay put. I need to go… get something, and I have a feeling they’ll be calling us back soon once they see the storm they’ve unleashed on themselves.” He said with a thin smile.

“Right?” Phantasm said, she still sounded uncertain but she offered Jason her hand, and when he took it she took over keeping gravity at bay.

Danny smiled and drifted closer, kissing Jason’s helmet softly. “I’ll be back soon, just trust me okay?” He asked, ruffling Ellie’s hair.

“I always trust you, Cub,” Jason said, sounding tired but fond even through the helmet’s modulators.

“Just… don’t do anything stupid string-bean,” Ellie sighed.

“I’ll try pipsqueak,” Danny agreed before speeding away from both of them.

He needed to find his way back into the Ghost Zone but that wouldn’t be easy but it was far from impossible. There were natural portals opening up somewhere in the galaxy all the time, and Danny could get back in contact with Wulf somehow if he needed to. How he wasn’t sure, but he was on a time crunch so he had better figure it out fast. He didn’t want to leave Ellie and Jason hanging and time was of the essence. He had a feeling he could sense portals if he really tried, other ghosts seemed to know where they were after all! He just needed to get away from any distractions, to where his mind was clearest and his core shone the brightest, and for him that would always be space.

Once he was far enough away that the earth was a frisbee amongst the stars Danny settled into a cross legged position and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath he didn’t need and exhaled slowly, trying to remember what little he knew about meditation and, like, opening one’s third eye.

“Alright portal, where are you,” He murmured rolling his shoulders, only to jump out of his skin when he heard a crackle and boom right under him. He shot up as he opened his eyes, half expecting an attack only to see a swirling green portal directly under him. “Great, of course,” He sighed, and let himself drop into it.

The green resolved into the large foyer of the ghost kings palace surrounded by the observants and a few ancients.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Chorused the observants.

“Great, how long have you guys been watching me? Fucking weirdos,” Danny muttered, but he couldn’t stay angry as Frostbite cheered and rushed in to hug him, scooping him up in a bearhug that would have cracked a rib if he had any. Clockwork followed more slowly, moving slowly and leaning on his cane, a thin smile on his elderly lips.

“It is good to see you, Young One. I'm sorry I know you haven’t had an easy time. I’ve been watching over you but didn’t feel it was possible for me to step in. Despite it all, you’ve done really well,” Clockwork said. He looked nervous, and Danny couldn’t blame him, he couldn’t count the number of times he had cursed Clockwork when things were at their worst, for not intervening to save him, but now…

“It's alright, I made it out and I found a new purpose. I assume if you had saved me I would have just spiralled or something like that?” He asked with a crooked smile that was really more of a grimace. It wasn't really okay, it would never be okay that Danny had lost his family and a part of him would never forgive Clockwork for having had the power to stop it and didn't. But he had also learned there was no point in holding Clockwork to human or present focused morals, he had his reasons and felt justified. Trying to hold Clockwork accountable would be counterproductive and maddening, he did trust Clockwork meant well.

“Something like that,” Clockwork agreed, mirroring Danny’s expression as he reversed into his child form. The expression looked very odd on his child-like face.

“We've been waiting for you,” the Observants chorused again, apparently impatient with the reunion. “Are you ready to take the crown?”

“Wow hello to you too,” Danny sassed, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous collective of giant eyeballs. “Yes, I'm ready,” Danny agreed, standing straight and holding his head high. He looked sure, even though he really wasn’t, but there was no putting this off any longer. “Release Pariah Dark and I'll be waiting for him in the world of our last battle.”

“That is not how-”

“I don't care if that's not how it's done, that's how I'm going to do it,” Danny interrupted the Observants. He really hasn't spent much time with them after his first defeat of Pariah and his capture but he was already familiar with the phrase.

“It is tradition to-” they started again and Danny interrupted with a growl.

“If I'm going to be king, this is a good time to get in the habit of obeying me. Release him, I'm sure he'll want revenge so he can find me in the world of our last confrontation and I'll defeat him properly this time, on my terms,” Danny insisted, bearing his teeth in a snarl. He knew that they weren't pleased, but he didn't care, he didn't plan on his rule to be dictated by trading so they could get used to it.

The Observants didn't have any mouths but he was sure that if they did they would look like they'd just bitten into a lemon. He'd never really understood why they were like this, Pariah Dark couldn't have been particularly obedient to tradition, but maybe he’d been gone so long they'd forgotten what it was actually like to have a ruler and only had the idealized version from inside their own minds. “As you wish,” they agreed sourly.

“That’s better,” Danny smiled thinly, there was little joy in this situation but he could find some in pissing off these uptight bastards. He nodded to them and looked back at Clockwork, he must know what Danny was planning and Danny was a bit surprised Clockwork didn't seem to have any objections. When he had intervened before it had been to stop Danny going ‘bad’. Maybe this time was different because Danny wasn’t planning to cause the damage himself, just… allow it to happen.

“You will be a good kind Danny,” Clockwork said softly. “Sometimes a leader has to compromise their own values to do what’s best for their people.”

“Ya, I’m not sure that’s what I’m doing Clockwork, those people hurt me worst of all, I think I have some pretty personal motivations,” Danny said bitterly.

“Even so,” Clockwork said with a shrug and a knowing smile that set Danny’s teeth on edge.

“Right,” He grumbled as he turned and walked back through the still open portal before turning and slashing through it from the other side. They would have a hard time opening another in the exact same location, not that Danny was planning on sticking around here, but the less of the universe and the more of Earth Pariah would have to rip through before he found Danny the better. He grinned far too wide and rocketed back towards earth.

He had done it! Pariah would be right on his heels and that bastard had no respect for human life. He would give the stupid humans something to fear~ By the end of the day they’d be groveling and begging for Danny to save them, and maybe he even would, if they asked very nicely.

He stopped on a dime next to his fiance and little sister again. They both jumped at his sudden appearance which made Danny laugh, Jason had taken off his helmet and his look of shock was particularly amusing! It was usually so hard to sneak up on the hypervigilant man. Danny reached out to take Jason back from Ellie and settled himself comfortably in Jason's lap while Jason wrapped his arms firmly around Danny's waist so he wouldn't fall. Ellie mimed gagging at the display of affection but didn't say anything.

“So, what did you do Danny? You weren't gone long enough to have gotten that far. Did it not work out?” Jason asked curiously and Danny gave him an impish smile.

“Oh no, it worked. I'm sure the Justice League will be calling us in just a few minutes once word gets to them about what just entered their dimension.” Even as Danny was talking he felt the change, the wave of dark energy that had just broken through the barrier between worlds. He didn't react, but it made Ellie stumble.

Danny remembered this dark energy from last time he'd fought Pariah but he had thought that was just because he had been nearby. It was disconcerting to know it could be felt at such a distance by those sensitive enough. Danny was sure he could handle this, but for a moment he was still worried he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

“Danny, what did you do?” She asked, sounding seriously worried.

“I released Pariah Dark,” he told her plainly, no point being cryptic now since this wasn't exactly a fun surprise. Her look of horror was cold water dumped on the burning coals of his rage and he winced. “Go back to your team Starlight, keep them safe but don't get yourself in trouble. This is… not going to be pretty,” he told her gently. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing, not really. But he did worry about how she would feel about him afterwards, especially if one of her friends was hurt in the fall out.

Jason's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket as Ellie rushed away from the two of them, back towards Titans tower. Danny watched her go, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t call her back and selfishly try to keep her safe. She and Jason were the ones he loved most but it would be selfish to hold her safely prisoner, especially when Jason's family was bound to be out there too.

“That can't be them already?” Danny asked Jason worriedly, forcing himself to look away from Phantasm’s retreating form to check the notification on Jason’s phone. She was strong and clever, she’d be alright, he needed to have faith in her.

“It's not, it's an emergency alert. He didn’t waste any time fucking shit up did he?” Jason asked, unlocking his phone and opening social media. It was already starting to flood with half corrupted videos and pictures of Pariah Dark and his army of skeletons. He had landed somewhere in the US by the looks of things, which Danny was glad of, and all the videos were full of screaming and fire. Occasionally he bellowed demands for Danny to show himself, but they were in ghost speak so none of the humans understood what he was asking for.

“Damn that's one big mother fucker,” Jason whistled. “So that's the mad king?”

“Yes,” Danny sighed, leaning his head against Jason’s chest. “Now we just see how long it takes for those idiots down there to realize the GIW's weapons are like water guns to him. I'm not going to negotiate with them anymore, but I will accept their surrender and once they've agreed to all my terms I'll deal with him.”

“Isn’t he coming for you? Why’s he in America?” Jason asked as he kept refreshing his social media feed.

“He can’t tell where I am, I could find him but I’m less flashy then he is, and I got used to minimizing my ecto-signature to avoid the GIW. Pretty sure he’s hoping that if he causes destruction he’ll smoke me out since last time I fought him it was to protect my town. Not this time, it’s not my job to protect these people anymore, they’ve made it very clear they don’t want me too,” Danny sneered, rolling his eyes.

Jason nodded gravely, and hugged Danny more tightly, he knew this hadn't been an easy choice. Danny nestled in against Jason's chest, his eyes glowing brighter than usual with anger and sorrow.

“How are you feeling, Moonlight?” Jason asked softly. They had some time as the GIW rushed to arrive on scene and prove how useless they were. “This means that you’re going to be king after this doesn’t it?”

“I'm not sure how I feel,” Danny sighed, biting his lip for a moment before continuing. “I wish it felt better, more righteous. I wanted revenge but most of the people being hurt had no idea what their government was even doing, and they're suffering for it, so I can't really feel good about it anymore. But I also don't exactly feel bad about it either, you know? And a part of me wishes I did because I tried so hard to be good when I was younger and how little I care now feels like a failure.

“But then again I guess it was Sam that really insisted I use my powers for good. I was a teenage boy and other than protecting my friends my first instincts were to sneak into the girls locker room, and douse my bully in half spoiled meat. Maybe I was just never that good.” He sighed, hanging his head and trying to swallow down the uncomfortable knot of shame and dread in his stomach.

“As for being king, I never really wanted to be king, but Clockwork seems to think that’ll just make me a better king, I hope he’s right. And I do think I'm ready, with you, your siblings, and Ellie I finally feel like I have a firm foundation again. Your proposal felt like the last puzzle piece I needed to feel whole, I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”

“You are good Danny, and you'll be a good king, but even good people have their breaking point. It's their fault they pushed you to yours. The Justice League and the Teen Titans will be on the scene to help evacuate soon and I’m sure it won’t be too long before those idiots down there will realize they’re up shit’s creek and call for help soon.”

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #my writing #fanfiction #dani phantom #clockwork #frostbite #the GIW #deadman dc #diana prince #batman #red hood #Hyena!Danny AU #multipart fic

194 notes · View notes