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#and both of you are amazed by the other when you do your respective sports
sometimesanalice · 3 days
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I’m so curious about ‘Like I Can” and reader’s childhood/high school background!! Could we get some little flashbacks? Your work is amazing btw❣️❣️❣️
Ah! This was such a fun message to get! Sorry it took me a minute to respond, I wanted to make sure I had time to sit down and give it the attention it deserves!
What do you want to know? My inbox is always open, so please feel free to send thoughts or questions in any time they pop up! 🫶🏻
But here’s more about Sweet Girl for you! (i might have gone a little overboard, lol)
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Sweet Girl was a bit of a shy girlie and a bit of a late bloomer in her younger years. It wasn’t until high school where she really started coming out of her shell.
She spent a lot of time at the Bradshaw house growing up and felt like it was hers too. Carole was the one who first gave her the “sweet girl” nickname and they had a really close relationship (sg still has the locket Carole gave her for her 13th birthday). And SG’s favorite nights were the ones where they’d get to have sleepovers. The moms would be upstairs having their own (wine, brownies, and romcoms), and her and Bradley would have free rein of the living room. (she famously isn't a fan of movie theater popcorn while Bradley is the extra butter kind of guy, but she does like the kettle corn kind.)
After her parent’s divorce, she had a complicated relationship with her dad. SG never saw it coming and then he moved very quick with a new wife and step siblings, and she felt really betrayed there for a while.
She had a few close friends in her grade, but Bradley was always who she considered her best friend. And because of that she did get picked on sometimes mainly by shitty boys who didn’t understand why they were so close or why he’d want to hang out with her (especially since they have a 2 year gap, so they’d call her his shadow or a tagalong). Bradley made it clear that anyone who messed with her wasn’t cool with him, but there were still some comments under breaths that she’d hear sometimes chose to keep to herself.
She’s always been artsy (she doodled some very detailed fireballs on the page of the sheet music book with Great Balls of Fire that she gave Bradley for his 12th birthday). But her favorite classes in high school were AP history (preferred euro over us) and computer science. (She originally wanted to be a graphic designer, and focused on pursuing her freshman year in college before later changing her major.)
Tennis was her sport of choice, and she was pretty decent at it. Her mom, Carole, and Bradley (baseball schedule depending) were always in the stands to cheer her on (the moms had to sit through so much spring sports, those opaque tumblers were definitely filled with wine, lol)! Both SG and Bradley had shirts they’d made as self professed #1 fan of the other when they were at each other’s games. The year she almost made it to the state playoffs was the year after Carole passed away, and after that happened and seeing her mom there alone in the stands without Carole or Bradley, she quit playing.
Miss ma’am is a smart cookie, and was one of three valedictorians in her class. (She did not audition to give the speech and let one of the others do it because she doesn't like a lot of attention directed at her.)
Her respect for the library (and why she won’t make out with Bradley in the stacks, even though he’s always trying to get her to after they get together, she won’t but she does let him carry her books, lol) is because she used to spend her summers volunteering there. Bradley would either drop SG off or pick her up depending on his baseball camp schedule and his job scooping ice cream. (Which Bradley has a struck ‘no milkshakes’ in the montero rule after she spilled hers one time, and he never let her forget about it)
I do have plans for a couple longer oneshots about their younger years! Including one about the night at the homecoming party where Bradley got his scars, and then also about the period after Carole died and Bradley's self destructive era (when he tried to implode their friendship).
As for some little flashbacks, I think that sounds like so much fun! I love their dynamic so much and have fun weaving in things from their past into the stories I write when I have the chance to do it! If there's specific things you're interested, send them my way! I'm happy to keep a little list and work on them when the time and inspiration hits!
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zaczenemiji · 3 months
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The Winning Pitch
Kenji Sato x Cheerleader!Reader
Synopsis: At college, Kenji Sato gets to know you during your trainings. When the university’s big game approaches, both you and Kenji strive for success in your respective teams. A heartwarming conclusion celebrates both victory and love.
Word Count: 1,975
Author’s Note: Kenji x reader requests are open! ⭑.ᐟ Send them through Ask (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
MASTERLIST
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Kenji Sato: student-athlete and campus crush. He’s an aspiring baseball star who was very determined for that title. To add to that, hundreds of girls are pining for him. Which makes you wonder how lucky you were to have landed on this guy.
You guys met at university—in college. It started one sunny day at training. The sports field was wrapped in a golden glow as the sounds of athletes training and cheerleaders practicing filled the air.
Kenji, the star, was in the middle of a batting practice. He was focused, his eyes never leaving the ball as he swung with precision and power.
On the adjacent field, you were rehearsing a new cheerleading routine with your squad. The upcoming game was a big one, and everyone was working hard for it to be perfect.
You were on top of a cheer pyramid when your captain blew her whistle and then clapped her hand. “Almost there!” She said. “We just need to work on the trembling, (y/n).”
With that, the girls on the base helped you get back down on the ground. “And, bases, we need to work on how we’re gonna dismount that,” she added as she watched.
“Alright, team,” she announced once you’ve reached the ground. “Be back after 5 minutes for strength training.”
With that, the team temporarily parted. You walked past others who were doing stretches as you headed toward the drinking fountain.
On your way, your eyes drifted towards the baseball field. There, you saw the face everyone was talking about. You knew Kenji Sato. Who doesn’t? You guys haven’t talked to each other, though.
You watched as he hit another home run, the ball sailing over the fence with ease. Impressed, you found yourself smiling.
Kenji suddenly turned and caught your eye. He smiled back, a little surprised but pleased to see you watching. Suddenly, you see him walking over to where you were.
You felt a soft warmth rise to your cheeks. You quickly turned around to drink at the fountain as you were supposed to.
“Hey there,” Kenji greeted, now standing nearby. You turned the faucet off and wiped your lips before turning. “I’ve seen you around. Cheer squad, right?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “And you’re Kenji Sato, baseball star.” You smiled up at him as you crossed your arms in front of you.
Kenji chuckled. “I wouldn’t say star, but I do my best,” he said. His eyes drifted to look behind you where you began hearing your teammates gasp and squeal.
“You guys look great out there,” he said. “Must be a lot of hard work.”
“It is,” you admitted. “You’re pretty impressive yourself. That last hit was amazing.”
“Thanks,” Kenji said, his smile widening. “Say—“ but before he could continue, you heard your captain call. You looked behind to see your team gathering together.
“Time’s up, Sato,” you looked back and smiled at him. “See you around.” With that, you turned to jog back to training.
But Kenji didn’t leave yet. He stayed to watch a little longer. He saw some of your teammates gather around you squealing and asking you about him. You just gently brushed off their questions as you bent down to do stretches.
Those small talks in between trainings and during breaks became frequent. It had become a familiar scene to both your teams to see you two by the water fountain, chatting.
There are times he’d arrive there before you; and there, he’d wait. Sometimes, he’d be on his phone. Other times, he’d watch you finish your routine from the distance.
As the day of the game was nearing, your practices became more grueling. The captain called for a break and you sighed in relief. You headed over to the fountain to rehydrate as you’ve always done so. However, as you turned it on, no water came out. You turned the handle on and off repeatedly yet nothing changed.
Frustrated, you wiped your forehead. The heat of the afternoon sun clawed on your skin and you felt your throat dry even more. Just as you were about to turn back, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“Here,” Kenji said, holding out a water bottle.
Surprised but grateful, you smiled and took it. “Thanks, Kenji,” you said. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Gotcha,” he said with a wink. “I was here earlier for your short break. However, it seemed like practice is more intense lately and your breaks have been reduced.”
Every day, he did this. He memorized the time of your breaks so he could come over for a chat.
You took a sip of water, feeling the cool liquid refresh you. “Yeah, they are,” you replied. “How’s practice going for you?”
“Well,” he replied, taking a sip from his bottle. “Just working on my swing and some drills.”
You nodded in response before chugging the contents of the bottle down to half. Just then, the captain called for the squad to regroup.
You placed a hand on Kenji’s bicep. “Thanks again for the water,” you smiled, looking up at him. “I’ll see you around.”
You turned to walk back to your team before you could even see the small blush that crept on his face. The same goes for him; he did not see the little grin you had on as you went away.
These small moments with Kenji were becoming the highlights of your day. Each day you grew excited for it and started looking forward to where it could lead.
The next day, you arrived at the field earlier than usual. You found yourself scanning the area to see if Kenji was there early, too.
He was, practicing his swings. He stopped when he saw you. With a grin, he jogged over, holding out another water bottle.
“Just in case the faucet’s still broken,” he said with a wink. You laughed, taking the bottle, “Thanks, Kenji.”
“So hey, uhh,” he said as he did a bit of stretches here and there. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime? Maybe grab a coffee or catch a movie?”
You immediately smiled at the invitation. “That sounds nice,” you said. “But how about this? If you win the upcoming game, I’ll go out with you.”
Kenji’s eyes lit up with determination and amusement. “Well then,” he replied. “Better start getting ready for that date then because we’re going to win.”
You grinned, enjoying the playful banter. “We’ll see about that,” you said. “Good luck, Kenji.” You knew Kenji and his team had a good chance. Your squad makes sure you guys have, too.
Counting the time left before the game, the weeks turned to days, to hours, until it was only a matter of seconds before your squad headed out into the field to perform.
The stadium lights blazed brightly. Fans cheered for their respective teams, as the anticipation built.
You stood with your team at the edge of the field, lining up into position as you all waited for the cue to start. One signal from the facilitators and you guys were up and running to the center of the field.
As the music began, you and your squad moved into formation, executing sharp, precise motions in perfect synchronization. The crowd’s cheers grew louder, a testament to the flawless execution you and your team worked tirelessly to achieve. Every jump, every tumble, every lift was met with applause.
Kenji stood with his teammates near the dugout, eyes fixed on you. He watched in awe seeing that your training paid off. He had seen you practice from his spot in the field, but it was truly magical to see you perform under the bright stadium lights.
The music shifted, signaling the climax of your performance. Your team smoothly transitioned to the pyramid. The bases positioned themselves. The middle layer climbed into place. And finally, it was your turn. With a deep breath, you ascended to the top, standing tall and confident.
At that moment, Kenji couldn’t contain his excitement. “Go, (y/n)!” He shouted, rendering his teammates amused. You guys were supposed to cheer for them, not the other way around.
Hearing him, your smile grew bigger. You extended your arms into a high V, holding the pose with perfect balance.
Kenji continued to cheer, his voice carrying over the crowd. “You’re amazing!” He yelled. “Keep it up!”
Just when everyone thought it was done, you transitioned into a heel stretch. The stadium erupted in applause, Kenji’s voice among them.
The captain called for the dismount. With flawless coordination, the pyramid began to lower. You descended gracefully, each layer in perfect harmony until your feet touched the ground.
As the routine was concluded, you and your teammates high-fived and hugged each other. The audience’s applause was deafening.
You glanced towards the dugout, meeting Kenji’s eyes. He was beaming with pride and happiness.
As your team retreated out of the field, you jogged over to him. “That was incredible, (y/n)!” He said enthusiastically. “You guys are amazing!”
Breathlessly, you smiled. “Thanks, Kenji,” you said. “We gave it our all.”
Kenji’s eyes shone with admiration. “That fired me up, (y/n),” he said. For a moment, he cleared his throat. He leaned a little close to whisper, “I hope you’re not forgetting your end of the deal.”
You chuckled at him. “I know you’ll do great, Kenji,” you said. “We’re all cheering for you guys.” You gave a wink before running back to your squad.
Soon after, the game began. As the first pitch was thrown, Kenji stepped up to the plate. He sure was going to win this game tonight.
It had been intense. The scores were close and the stakes were high. Everyone was on the edge of their seats.
Kenji stepped up to the plate, the stadium quieted in anticipation. The opposing pitcher glared, ready to deliver the next pitch. Kenji tightened his grip on the bat, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the ball.
The first pitch flew, a fastball right down the middle. Kenji swung with precision, the bat hitting it with a satisfying crack. The ball soars through the air, heading towards the outfield. The crowd cheered as Kenji sprinted towards first base.
“Go, Kenji!” you shouted from the sidelines.
Kenji’s heart pounded as he rounded first base, watching the outfielders scramble to catch the ball. He approached second base. The ball hit the ground, bouncing past the outfielders, and Kenji knew he had a chance.
“Keep going!” his teammates yelled.
Kenji didn’t hesitate. He sprinted towards third base, his eyes fixed on the coach’s signals. As he neared, the coach signaled him to go for home. He rounded third base, heading for home plate.
The outfielder finally retrieved the ball and threw it toward the infield. Kenji could see the catcher positioning himself, ready to tag him out. He pushed himself harder, sliding into home plate with all his might.
The dust settled, and the umpire’s voice rang out, “Safe!”
The stadium exploded into cheers. Kenji’s teammates rushed towards him, lifting him into the air. He had scored the winning run, securing victory for his team.
As the team celebrated, Kenji’s eyes searched the crowd, finding you among the cheerleaders. You were beaming with joy, cheers echoing through the noise.
The team set Kenji down, and he jogged over to the sidelines. Without a second thought, he pulled you into an embrace.
“You did it, Kenji!” you exclaimed, jumping in his arms. Kenji grinned, his heart still racing. “That was an incredible game! You were so good out there!”
“Thanks, (y/n),” he said, letting go of you. He looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “So, how about it?” he asked with a grin. “You, me, and a celebration dinner?”
You smiled warmly, nodding. “I’d love that,” you answered.
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@lostwsoo
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sunsetchicane · 1 month
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I love your post card series! Could I request Oscar with rodeo reader where they’re penpals and Oscar subscribes to the cowboy channel (that’s actually what it’s called) to watch his penpal and rodeo reader starts to watch f1 and then she gets invited to Austin?
love letters [OP81]
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oscar piastri x fem!barrel racer!reader [from southern US]
word count: 4.2k
summary: The one where you meet a certain racing driver as you're both starting your careers and you decide to keep in touch.
warnings: fluff, fluff, oh and a little more fluff! angst maybe if you squint and tilt your head
author's note: To my dearest anon, this is MY love letter to YOU. Thank you for requesting this and letting me write about the rodeo; it brought me back to when I was just a little girl and was oddly healing?? Sorry for being a sap lol! I hope this is to your liking :) Feedback, comments, reposts, and likes are always appreciated!!! Peace and love babes. [xoxo elle]
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“Speed. Agility. Determination. This barrel racing pair is one for the ages and the crowd here today knows it,” Janie Johnson says, a bright smile on her face while she stares down the barrel of the camera.
She turns her attention over shoulder when the crowd’s cheers hit a crescendo. You’ve just rode out into the arena, the American flag streaming by your side while you gallop around. Chants and cheers of your name fly from the mouths of onlookers, swallowing everything into a thunderous roar. For this moment, the entire world is yours. The other top riders follow you out into the dirt of the arena, hands waving and smiles flashing. There’s nothing quite like being at the rodeo. 
“And there she is, our winner today and her beautiful horse, Sweet Tea,” Janie says, unable to look away from the way you and your horse run the perimeter. You take your time, soaking up the glory of another win. 
You fly through your post-race duties, one thought constant in your mind: you have to write your letter to Oscar. It’s sort of a silly tradition, but you’ve been doing it for ages. After a rodeo weekend or a race weekend for him, you both would write each other a letter explaining everything in careful detail. You loved it. Even though the information about the rodeo and the race would be released ages before the letters arrived in your respective mailboxes, it was still amazing to hear about things from his perspective and explain your’s to him.
So, once everything is loaded up and you’re back on the road, you lean yourself back in your seat with a pen and pad of paper in your lap trying to put everything you’re feeling into words. Though your sports were different in a lot of ways, there were similarities that pulled the two of you together. The pressure, the adrenaline, the rush of a win. It’s what made you two so close even though there were vast oceans separating you. 
As you write, you can’t help but reminisce on the first time you ever wrote one of these letters. It was years ago, just as you started pro barrel racing. It was a rodeo early in the season. You were dressed and ready for your pool. Sweet Tea was edgy and nervous and so were you. You were the rookie pair that year, just a five year old horse and an 18 year old jockey. You remember that you felt way in over your head that day as you watched the vets take on the arena. 
To ease both of your nerves, you led Sweet Tea on a walk. Whispering to her with your head low, you didn’t even notice the group walk up in front of you. The voice of your manager made you tip your head up, looking at him under the brim of your hat. He smiled at you and introduced you to a group of young, thin, pale looking boys. He explained that they were from a Formula 3 team called Prema. You’d never heard of Formula anything before.
Your manager led the group of boys away after some small talk. They were nice enough, but you didn’t need any distractions. Just as the last of the boys followed your manager to your stalls, you thought you were free to go about walking Sweet Tea again.
“What’s your horse's name?” An unfamiliar voice with an unfamiliar accent said. You don’t get much for foreign accents at the rodeo, so it took you by surprise. Your eyes met his brown ones. His brown hair was cut short on the sides and the top drooped down over his forehead. He donned a white t-shirt that displayed the word “PREMA” in red, coupled with a pair of blue jeans and sneakers. It was the first of the few times that you’d seen Oscar Piastri in person. The memory lives clear and bright in your mind.
“Sweet Tea,” you answered him in a clipped voice. You were still uppity about your impending race and Oscar was quickly becoming a distraction. 
“Sweet Tea,” he echoed while taking a few steps closer. Tightening your grip on her reins, you waited for her to spook. 
“Wait-” you began to warn Oscar as he crept in closer. But you were swiftly cut off when all Sweet Tea did was bray and huff at him. You were nothing short of shocked. She rarely took to anyone, but she seemed to immediately like him. It made you curious.
“You can pet her, if you want,” you encouraged him while continuing to gauge Sweet’s reaction. Together, the two of you stroked the soft brown of her coat. You could tell that her mood was suddenly a lot sunnier, the moodiness exiting her body as you and Oscar brushed your hands over her.
“What’s your name?” you asked after a while. 
“Oscar,” he replied, his eyes darting up to meet yours over Sweet Tea’s head. For a moment, you studied his face. He looked perfectly calm, peaceful even, in the intense atmosphere that surrounded you. It didn’t surprise you that Oscar’s tranquil nature helped to set Sweet’s nerves at ease. His demeanor was even helping you. 
“She likes you,” you said, giving him a small smile while you dragged your hand over your horse’s nose.
“I hope so,” he said, his eyes flicking from you to Sweet and then back up. 
Everything after that was history.
You and Sweet Tea ran better than you ever had, placing in the top three. It was your best result yet and set you up for success for the rest of the weekend. You saw Oscar every day of the rodeo. He would stop by to say hello to you and Sweet Tea while you were prepping for a race or catch you after your pool. Awkward teenage conversation fell away quickly, giving way to long, easy conversations. 
On Sunday, you and Sweet Tea took it all. It was a huge payday which would boost the rest of your season. You were on cloud nine. Oscar walked with you while you led your horse back to the trailer. Back and forth you talked about the race and how it felt. You were so glad to have someone to talk to about all this. You used to talk to your grandpa about everything, dissecting the race and your rides with him. He’s the one who taught you how to race. But, he died shortly before the season started. He never got to watch you race at this level and you didn’t have him to talk to anymore.
“Sorry, I’m rambling,” you said while turning away and adjusting your hat, suddenly embarrassed at yourself. Oscar wasn’t a rodeo kid. He probably didn’t care how tight your turns around the barrels were or how responsive Sweet was today. 
“No,” he said, quickly cutting you off. “It’s alright. I like to listen.”
Not convinced, you stayed silent.
“It sounds a lot like how I feel when I race, you know. So, I get it,” he admitted then, his shoulders coming up into a shrug. You eyed him from under your hat, glad for the way the wide brim covered most of your face.
“I used to talk to my grandpa about this stuff,” the words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them. If it would have been anyone else, you would have died from embarrassment. But, Oscar just blinked at you and waited patiently for you to elaborate.
“You remind me of him,” as you said it, you want to punch yourself in the face. You really went two embarrassing moments for two that day.
“Thank you?” he said, a small chuckle coating his words. He smiled at you so warmly that it thawed the icy shame in your chest slightly. 
“I just mean that,” you tried to salvage what you thought was meant to be a compliment but just came out really weird. “You’re a good listener, like him.”
Oscar nodded, his small smile still on his lips. His perpetually tired-looking eyes were soft and kind while he watched you walk your horse. You believe that it was in that moment that you became friends, good friends.
Coming up on your trailer, you slowed your pace, wanting to prolong your last moments with your new friend. Feelings that had been growing steadily over the weekend were at their peak, downing you in an intense feeling of longing. If you could do anything to never let him leave your side ever again, you would do it. In a heartbeat. In the span of just a few days, you’d grown so close that it felt like there’d never been a time where you didn’t know him. Friendly affection wasn’t an apt description of what passed between the two of you. A four letter word danced around in your teenage mind. But you couldn’t say that to him. You’d only known him for 72 hours. 
“We leave tonight,” Oscar said then, shoving the toe of his shoe into the grass. You leaned into Sweet Tea, stroking her neck and avoiding looking at your brand new best friend–your brand new obsession. Emotion roared like a tide inside of you, threatening to spill out from your eyes in tears and from your mouth in a confession. 
“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” your voice was thick with your southern accent. It always got heavier when you were emotional.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. Your eyes flicked to his then, taking in the soft look that graced his features. He seemed so sure of his words. It placed a little peace in you to know that he was just as intent on not letting go of the relationship you’d built as you were.
“Can I write to you?” you asked suddenly, not sure why this is the way you wanted to keep in contact with him. There was something inside of you that longed to write to him. Handwritten letters seemed deeply personal, intentional, everything that you wanted to convey to him. 
“Write…like letters?” he asked, his small smile turning into an amused grin. Instead of becoming embarrassed at your suggestion, you held firm. Nodding at his question, you sent him a small smile. He shook his head a little and asked for your phone. You handed it to him and he typed in his contact, only filling out the address line and his name. 
Once your phone was back in your possession, he said a goodbye to Sweet Tea while stroking her nose lovingly. She whinnied at his touch, tossing her head affectionately. Then he turned his attention to you, he stepped closer than he ever had. Invading your air, you thought he might kiss you. Your heart stopped for a moment, teenage love sending sparks across your eyes. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze. Your arms slung easily over his shoulders, holding him close. You relished the feeling of his chest against yours, his breath against the back of your neck. 
That’s the feeling that you’ve held onto over the last four years. It’s the feeling you hold close on lonely nights on the road. It’s the feeling you remember every time you pen a letter to your closest friend, wishing that you could’ve had the chance to be something more.
Over the years you’ve kept up with Formula racing, just for the sake of watching Oscar. Though, you’ve started to become quite the fan. Especially now, as Oscar is tearing it up for McLaren. He’s had an exceptional season. In his faithful letters, he writes in his subdued way about how thrilled he is about this season. His humility never fails to make you smile. It’s one of the things that makes him Oscar. 
He also writes about watching you on the Cowboy Channel whenever he can. You’re always surprised and warmed when he includes details of your race or compliments your skills. His words, though concise, are eloquent in their own way. Whenever you read his letters, you can hear his voice in your head.
So, as you wrap up your letter, you’re already anticipating his response. Your eyes drift to the window once you’ve tucked everything away. The familiar rolling fields of perfectly parallel rows of crops lull you into a sleepy trance. Dreams of seeing Oscar again flood your mind when your eyes slide closed and fall comfortably asleep.
The final turn into your gravel driveway pulls you from your nap. You’d slept for nearly the entire drive. You’re warm from sleep, your eyes still heavy but your body feeling refreshed after a long weekend. 
You and your small team unload the horses and the equipment quickly, desperate to return to your respective homes for a meal and your own bed. There’s nothing quite like returning to the ranch after a rodeo weekend. As you sling up your last saddle, you wonder if Oscar feels that way about home after a race weekend. You make a mental note to ask him about it in your next letter.
Before heading into your home, you run out to the mailbox and place your letter in it. Flipping the red flag of your mailbox up and walking away, you’re already anxiously awaiting his response. 
Instead of dwelling on your letter and Oscar, which will definitely send you into an anxious tizzy, you decide to catch up on a couple of work related things to keep yourself distracted. Snuggled cozily into your bed after a long shower, you pull out your laptop and open your email. There are a dozen different unread emails from rodeo crews, journalists, and ranch staff. However, one unfamiliar sender catches your eye.
It’s from McLaren.
Ignoring everything else for the moment being, you rush to open the email. Rarely have you received emails from the McLaren F1 team. Every once in a while, they send you PR gifts or things of the like because of your connection with Oscar. But this one looks different. It’s more personal than that.
When your eyes read the contents of the document attached to the email, you nearly fall off your bed. It’s an official invitation from the McLaren team to join them as a guest for the Grand Prix in Austin the following week. Slack jawed, you mindlessly follow the directions on how to accept the offer. Nothing matters right now except for this.
After four years, you’re finally going to see Oscar again.
Walking onto the Paddock, you feel oddly at home. The hustle and bustle of a race weekend reminds you of your weekends at the rodeo. Team members and journalists and officials stream around you, everyone hellbent and on a mission. You’re swallowed into the excitement of it all, fading into just another body in the masses. It brings you peace that you weren’t sure you were going to find here. 
“Miss?” a voice says from just behind you. Narrowing your attention to them, you turn around quickly. A small girl with bright blonde hair sends you a quick smile. She’s adorned with the bright papaya of McLaren. Her eyes drag from your hat-covered head to your boot-clad feet. Your light colored Wranglers hug your curves and flair out over your boots. A matching blazer covers your shoulders and the white button-up with the first few buttons undone. The look is complete by a dark orange, silk bandana tied loosely to one of your belt loops. You know you look like the epitome of country, but it was all intentional. 
The McLaren employee confirms who you are before offering to lead you to the garage. Swallowing hard, you trail behind her, cutting your way through the sea of people. Nerves dance around in your stomach. You feel like you’re back on top of Sweet Tea the day you met Oscar, wide-eyed and anxious as all get out. But there’s something deeper that keeps you moving, a desire–a need–to see Oscar again. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of for years. 
Every letter has been in preparation for this moment. Every word you’ve ever written to him saying the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say all those years ago. For the past week you’ve been rehearsing exactly how you’re going to tell the love of your life that you’ve fallen for him, that you’ve loved him since you were just 18. There’s nothing that could stop you, not even the fear of rejection. Four years of longing have put you in indescribable agony. There has to be some sort of resolve, good, bad, or otherwise. Today is the day that you’re going to share the one secret that you’ve ever kept from him. 
The blonde employee, Julia, leads you into the garage and begins introducing you to the team. Smiling and snapping photos with some people, you lose count of how many names you’re told and hands you shake. Not that you’re really trying to keep track, your mind being pulled in a different direction. Desperately, your eyes scan the small garage for the only face that really matters. 
You’re in the middle of discussing your latest race with one of the engineers when some movement from the back of the garage steals away your attention. A mop of brown hair and a dashing smile that you’d never forget comes into view. He’s rounding the car, chatting with his engineers and crew while laughing. He’s dressed in his race suit, the arms tied around his waist and showing off his skin tight fireproofs. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him. The rest of the world fades into a blur while your living, breathing dream shimmers like a mirage in front of you. 
Finally, finally, he turns around with the soft smile that you’ve missed so much on his face. From across the garage, over the massive car between you, you lock eyes. Tears spring to your eyes as his jaw goes slack. You barely have time to blink or breathe before he jerks into action. He’s rounding the car in a hurry, whispering rushed apologies as he gently shoves people out of his way. You break away from your conversation with an ‘excuse me,’ meeting Oscar halfway.
The force of his hug knocks your hat clear off your head, but you hardly notice as he sweeps you up off the floor and into his arms. His arms, which are much larger than you remember, strangle you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. His face presses roughly into the crook of your neck. Smiling like a fool, you keep your arms wrapped around his neck, never wanting to let go. 
When he finally sets you back down, you pull only one hand away to wipe furiously at the tears that have slipped out of your eyes. Sniffing, you laugh at what a mess you’ve become. But when you look up to find Oscar’s tear rimmed eyes and bright smile, you can’t help but choke on another sob.
His hands are still on your waist while you try to sort yourself out. Eyes shining, you take him in fully. He’s so grown. He’s tall and broad and all man. Except for his eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes, and his boyish smile. Those two things have stayed the same. Looking at them now, it’s like your past and your future have collided and coalesced into one man. Sighing, you shove him playfully in the chest.
“When did you go and get all grown up?” you say, your voice thick with emotion. He captures your hand on his chest, taking it into his own. With his fingers wrapped around yours, you feel perfectly at home. A slight blush has crept into his cheeks, painting a soft rose across his ivory skin. Your chest squeezes at the sight.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says quietly while reaching down to pick up your hat. Playfully, he shoves it back onto your head with a small smile. 
For a couple of comfortable seconds, you just stand there in each other’s presence. Soaking in everything he is, you bask in the moment. He’s here with you. Finally. And the way he’s looking at you with those brilliant brown eyes makes you feel like not a day has passed since he left. The feeling that was born inside of you when you were 18, is reborn with double the intensity. Your love for the man in front of you is overflowing; it’s drowning you.
“Do you have a minute?” you ask after a while, your eyes darting around to the crowd around you. Oscar snaps back into reality with you, following your gaze to the stray looks you’ve been getting. Nodding, he leads you by the hand back to his driver’s room. 
It’s a tiny space, just big enough for a couch and a small closet. But it’s private enough to have the conversation you’ve been equally needing and dreading. Oscar sits next to you on the tiny couch, his side pressed into yours. You can’t tell if the contact makes you more nervous or sets you at ease. For as many times as you’ve thought about and planned for this moment, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.
Fiddling nervously with the hem of your bandana, you avoid looking your friend in the eyes. But, you can feel him staring at you. Suddenly, a large hand closes around both of yours, causing you to cease your fidgeting. Turning your eyes to his, you take in the crease between his brows and the small frown that pulls at the corners of his lips.
“Is everything alri-” he begins but you’re quick to cut him off. 
“Ah, hell,” you mumble quickly, making a knee jerk decision.
With both hands you grab him by the neck and yank his face to yours. His head knocks your hat back on your head, giving you enough space to kiss him. Pressing your unmoving lips to his, you hold him there in desperation. 
So much for the carefully crafted speech that you’ve spent four years on. 
For a couple heart wrenching seconds, he doesn’t move. He’s gone completely still under your hands, his lips slightly parted in shock. Shame pools low in your stomach as you begin to pull away. But your heartbreak lasts only a split second before his hand is on the back of your neck, keeping you in place while he bursts into action.
His kiss is just as desperate as you feel. Pressing into each other with all the passion you’ve been harboring for four years, you’re both consumed by the heat of the moment. Your head swims as his lips glide against yours, his tongue skimming over your bottom lip before pressing deeper. 
His free hand reaches out, grabbing your knee to haul you onto his lap. Sliding home over his muscular thighs, you sigh into his mouth. Nothing has ever felt more right. Perfection doesn’t do Oscar justice. He’s everything. 
He holds your waist tight between his large hands while your kiss slows down. Lazily, you suck at his bottom lip while he chases you backward. Once again his chest is on yours, your memory flicking back to the last time you saw him. You knew then that you were his, and he was yours. Nothing could keep you apart, especially not now. 
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and voice soft. You’d never been one to beat around the bush; so why even try when it matters most?
The payoff is better than you could have ever hoped. Oscar doesn’t waste a second before both of his hands cup either side of your face, holding a searing kiss to your lips. He’s firm but kind. He’s Oscar.
“I love you,” he replies breathlessly after a couple seconds.
Your heart soars, leaving your soul in outer space. Seeing stars, you lean your forehead against his, a small laugh bubbling from your chest. Oscar chuckles with you, his chest rumbling under your hands. Pulling back slightly, you take your time to just look at him. Soft brown eyes meet yours and there’s a look there that you know you mirror with your own gaze. Affection, longing, love.
“I had this whole speech ready, you know,” you accuse while adjusting your hat on your head. Oscar’s mouth falls open slightly, faux offense coming over his features.
“You’re the one who kissed me!” he accuses right back. “I was all prepared, too. But someone was just over eager to jump my bones.”
Pinching his side playfully, you watch gleefully as he yelps. Shushing him quietly, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. Silently, an agreement that this was far better than any words you could have said passes between you.
Shaking his head, he settles his arms around your waist and smiles despite himself. With callused fingers, you trace constellations between his freckles. Your heart sings and you wonder how you were ever able to stand being away from him. With Oscar next to you, with his breath on your face, and with his smile for just you, you know that this is it for you.
Four years have been spent dreaming of him. Now, the rest of your life will be spent dreaming with him.
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imaginaryf1shots · 2 months
Text
Slow-Speed to the Finish Line
WC: 2.6K
Fernando x driver!reader
Summery: "You drive me insane, you know that, I can't seem to get you out of my mind." + "my chest... hurts."
Warning: Crash, injuries, curse words
A part of my 1K celebration
Masterlist
Fernando Masterlist
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You've been in Formula 1 for so long, coming into the sport as a female was met with opposition from fans and some officials alike. But you've proven everyone wrong with an amazing rookie year and almost beating the 2 times world champion Fernando Alonso as his teammate. You have a very good relationship with all the drivers who've come into Formula 1 through the years. The media had their say on that, but you didn't care. It's not a bad thing to be close to your colleagues. At the end of the day, they're the only ones who can relate to you on so many things. You've become closest with Lewis due to the two of you working together to get more women into formula 1 to have the sport be more exclusive.
Maybe that's the reason why Fernando hated you so much. He and Lewis have been rivals since day one, just like you and him. From day one, he's been against you for some reason, didn't like you or approve of you. It irked you to no end, but you took it out on track. The battles you both share are a fan favourite. Even when you changed teams and were no longer teammates, you still were always at each other's throats. It's a wonder you've never crashed into each
other, you've pushed each other off track more times than you can count. Don't get me started on when you qualify on the same row. The first corner always gets spicey, but never to the point of crashing. You've been in your fair share of accidents on track, but none were because of Fernando.
"You know, there's a reason they do best when they're close to each other." Nico Rosberg once said in an interview, when he was asked about an incident between you and Fernando, that saw you two pushing each other off track both getting penalties for that race. "They push each other to the limit. They just have to learn when to stop."
"They've been in the sport long enough to have learnt." Jensen said, and Nico agreed. "It seems to me that when it comes to each other, it's like they're rookies again."
That race specifically was fire-y between the two of you on track. You found yourself in the FIA section in the paddock, after the race, where all the drivers get weighed and there's a screen showing some parts of the race. Both of your teams were standing side to side as the watched the two of you, the clashing of team kits making this all the more obvious, the rivalry between the two of you. You stand facing each other, your voices cutting through the noise of the garage, a storm is brewing. The air
between you is filled with tension.
"If you haven't pushed me off track, we would've both finished in the points." You say through gritted teeth, your arms crossed and your eyes blazing. "What were you thinking, Alonso?"
"Spare me the lecture." Fernando's tone is icy, and he steps closer. "Maybe if you learned how to defend properly, you wouldn't have ended up in the gravel."
"Defend properly?" You scoff. "That's rich coming from someone who dives into every corner like a maniac, this isn't bumper cars, Alonso."
"You've always been like this." Fernando waves his hand around.
"Like what?"
"You waltz in here and act like you own the place, you've still got a lot to learn about racing, and respect is one of them, maybe start with that." His fists clench.
"Respect?" You laugh sarcastically, taking a step closer, matching his intensity. "I don't need a lesson in respect from someone who thinks he's the king of the track, your arrogance is unbelievable."
"Come on, both of you this is enough." Your team principal arrives on scene and tries to calm you down, his voice was firm, he's sick and tired of having to always break the two of you off. "It's been years and you're still at it.”
You and Fernando glare at each other, both unwilling to back down.
"Just stay out of my way, or you'll regret it." Fernando says with venom in his voice.
"Funny, I was about to say the same thing." You say coldly and wip around your ponytail hitting him in the face, that's how close you two were standing, and walk away.
Now this race was no different, you qualified on the third row with Fernando, there were some things said between the two of you before the race that left your blood boiling. Fernando is only like this with you and you don't know why. You qualified higher than him, but he's on the good side of the track so the start is very important for the trajectory of the race.
When lights go out you press the paddle down, and away you go. You maintain you lead on Fernando overtaking two cars by the first lap, but with one look in your rearview mirror you know that Fernando is behind you.
"Why is he always so close to me?" You ask yourself and focus on the cars in front of you, the track is short so by the third lap cars are still close together and with a yellow sector because of one of the Alpines, everyone is getting even closer. Once the yellow flag is back to green, it happens. You don't know what happened, was it Fernando trying to overtake you while you were trying to over take the car in front of you? Has it finally happened? Did Fernando crash into you?
All you know is that you touch the gravel at a corner and your car is slipping, skidding and flipping a few times before it hits the barrier. You felt the G-force from the hit in your core. Thankfully the car landed on the wheels and you weren't upside down.
A car came up behind Fernando and hit his tire, giving him a puncture at the start of the corner making his car hit yours, the impact into your car, made his car only slide on the gravel before it stopped.
In a few seconds Fernando was out of the car, he caught glimpses of your car as it rolled, the car was totaled, bits and pieces of carbon fibre littered the gravel. It looked like the car was chewed up and spit out, that's the only way for him to describe it. Fernando's feet carried him at a speed he didn't know he possessed. Reaching the car, or what was left of it, he saw your shaking hands as you tried to take off the wheel. Fernando leans in and takes it out for you, he threw it to the side. You seem to be struggling even more, so Fernando steady's himself on the side of the car, gets his arms over the halo and under your armpits and pulls you up. It's a struggle, he felt like you put no weight into it. But you're still conscious so that's a good thing. He knows your family is watching, seeing you out and moving will be a great relief to them.
“I-uh, I.” You struggle to speak, Fernando leads you a bit away from the car before he sets you down, he removes his helmet in super speed to be able to see you better. “I can’t breathe.” You choke out. He lefts you head and unbuckles your helmet and removes it and pulls off your balaclava. Your hands press against your chest.
”What hurts?” He asks in such a tender tone, you haven’t heard before. You try and curl into yourself from the pain, but you only manage to move a bit with a whine and whimper.
”My chest… hurts.”
”Shit!” Fernando looks around and sees the medical car just rounding the corner. “HURRY THE FUCK UP!” He turns back to you, tears gather in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. “It’s okay, they're here, the medics are here.”
Your hand clenches his forearm tightly as if it’s your lifeline, his eyes don’t stray from yours, a look of panic fills yours, it’s a look he’s never seen before.
”You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.” Fernando stresses, he doesn’t know how he’s comforting, you or himself. only when the medics arrive and pull him away does he move. He stands to the side and watches as they quickly assess you. The ambulance arrives seconds later and you’re carried to the back of it, he doesn’t think twice before he jumps in after you. There’s an oxygen mask placed on your face, as the medic does his check ups, you wince when he touches your chest. But then he presses a spot that had you let out a short strained scream, being unable to breathe properly Meant you didn't have enough air in your lungs to scream so that let to coughing.
“Wah, what's happening?” Fernando panicked as the medic tried to calm you down.
Thankfully it doesn't take long to teach the medbay, you're wheeled out of the ambulance and inside. Fernando is taken for check ups but a few doctors go with you. He's half focused as he goes through the motions.
Your race suit is unzipped and pulled down your arms the fireproofs are cut down the middle. The nurse pauses when she sees your chest, it's all bruised up. The doctor takes a look at you, and he's calling for the ambulance to take you to the hospital.
Fernando finds you after his test, he looks at the frantic medic.
“What's going on?” He asks the doctor.
“She has to go to the hospital.” The doctor tells him while he checks your chest and ribs once more, they put some pain killers in an IV, since you were still feeling a lot of pain.
“Why?” Fernando’s heart dropped once more, this means it’s a bigger problem than he originally thought.
“We need to do some scans.” The doctor told him and they start rolling you out of the make shift medbay and back into the ambulance.
“I'm going.” Fernando says, no one of your team has reached the medbay yet, and he doesn’t like the idea of you going alone.
“What? no you-“ The doctor says as you’re rolled in, Fernando hops in the ambulance and glares at the doctor.
“I wasn’t asking.” His tone left no room for arguments.
“O-okay.”
You’re rushed to the hospital and Fernando stays by your side as much as he was allowed to, one of your team and one of his team arrive, he changes into his street clothes, but still refuses to leave you. Even when you tell him to go, he just says.
”After we know what happened.”
You’ve never seen Fernando this worried and if you weren’t in pain you’d have found it endearing.
“Fernando.” Your trainer calls the driver’s name with his phone pressed to his ear, the spaniard looks up. “The FIA looked at the photoage of the crash-“
”Was it my fault?” Fernando cuts him off, his tone already guilty, maybe he wasn’t pushed after all, and it was his fault all along.
”No, they uh, did you unbuckle y/n’s belt?” He asks him and Fernando frowns, thinking back to when he got you out of the car, it dawns on him now.
”No, I didn’t.” You share a look with the driver before you look at your trainer.
”Guess we know now why my chest is all bruised up.” You mumble.
Just then the doctor walks in with a couple nurses. They have your scans with them, the doctor looks at your trainer and Fernando before he looks back at you.
”It’s alright, we already have our theories.” You tell him to just say what they found.
The doctor says a bunch of things, but all you focus on is, bruised lung, cracked rib and and another three bruised ribs. Your trainer is back on the phone informing the team with your diagnosis.
“Why are you still here?” You ask Fernando when you’re alone in your room.
”I can leave if you want to.” Fernando stands up and heads towards the door when you stop him.
”Why did you come in the first place?” That stops him in his tracks and he turns to look at you, there’s a long moment of silence. “I thought you’d be happy, I’ll be out of the car for a while.”
”I’m not cruel.” Fernando spits out, he’s offended you’d think him so heartless.
”No, but you hate me.” You fire back at him, though your tone is much softer, weaker.
”I don’t… I don’t hate you.” Fernando’s tone waver, he takes a few steps toward your bed.
”Could’ve fooled me.” You scoff and play with the irritating hospital blanket.
”You’re not really all sunshine and rainbows.”
”But what did I do in my first year, you’ve hated me since then.” You frown, this is beyond confusing, Fernando stays silent, and you chuckle dryly. “That’s what I thought, you know, I was so happy to be your teammate, I have no idea why you’re so cold towards me, I’ve never been the instigator to anything that has ever happened between us, maybe on track but nothing to ever warnt this much hate from you, I was so happy to be teammates with the great Fernando Alonso but you’ve made it so hard and -“
”Can you please shut up! You drive me insane, you know that!” Your lips close tight at his admission, his tone turned desperate like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I can't seem to get you out of my mind, and I feel guilty about it."
“Guilty? Why are you guilty?”
”You choose to ignore everything and focus on that?” Fernando puts a hand on his waist and the other pinches between his eyes. “You’re the only female in the sport, what would be like if I showed that I liked you, that I want to be with you, that you’ve consumed my every thought and my every dream? Huh? It’s not fair to you, to have your colleague want to date you.”
”You know you’re such a child.” You glare at Fernando and he scoffs. “So what? You have a crush on a girl and instead of telling her you’re mean to her?”
”What else was I supposed to do?” He throws his arms up.
”Fucking tell me!” You’re angry and rightfully so.
”And then what? You’ll reject me and then it’ll be uncomfortable for you.”
“Who said I’d reject you?” Fernando’s eyes snaps to yours, your voice is much softer now, void of the anger.
“W-What?”
”I would’ve gladly gone out with you.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, Fernando moves closer, he’s standing right next to you. “I still would, even though you’re an asshole.”
”Would you?”
”mhmm.” You mumble and give him the smallest smile.
“I’m such an asshole.” Fernando mutters and you grin.
”That you are, but you can start making it up to me, by taking me out on a date.” You say and raise an eyebrow teasing him. “It seems like I’ll be have time off from my job.”
”Anywhere you like.” He promises and takes your hand in his, raising it up to his lips where he presses a soft kiss there.
”It’s a deal then, Fernando.” He closes his eyes and groans. “What?”
”This is the first time you called me Fernando.” You giggle and shake your head softly.
”Get used to it then.”
Main Taglist:
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .
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f1byjessie · 7 months
Text
A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part nine.
INSTAGRAM.
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mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡
view all 9,147 comments
user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.
user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers
↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly
user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀
user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!
user she’s my photography inspo 🤩
user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist
↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does
user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏
user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained
user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating
↳ user OMG SAME
yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡
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yourusername locked in and ready 😎
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oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁
↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁
↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁
↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹
user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS
user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS
user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well
mclaren The boys are back in town!
↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?
↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍
↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌
↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘
user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…
↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera
↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀
↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS
↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.
↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.
↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔
↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.
user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions
↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that
user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire
user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡
user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on
↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her
jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒
↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous
Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.
“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”
You purse your lips.
Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.
But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.
“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.
It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.
The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.
You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.
If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.
“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”
Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.
You wince at that.
Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”
You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”
Well.
You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.
Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.
He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.
Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.
There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.
He looks small.
Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.
The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.
You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.
You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.
“Quit that,” you snap.
“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.
You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”
“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”
“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”
You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.
Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.
You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”
He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”
If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.
But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.
The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.
“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.
Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”
This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.
This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning
You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”
“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”
You glare at him.
“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”
“Y/N…”
Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.
“I’m sorry━”
Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).
━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!
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cutielando · 2 months
Text
win, win, win | o.p.
synopsis: in which Oscar finally gets his win
my masterlist
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The last few laps of the Hungarian Grand Prix had taken a couple of years off of your life.
You knew McLaren had been planning for Oscar to take the checkered flag first in the race, and you were glad the team had decided to prioritize your boyfriend over Lando for once.
But when they called Lando into the pits first, you had felt your stomach drop.
That wasn’t the plan. That’s not what was supposed to go down.
You turned to Mark, who was standing with you in the McLaren garage, looking as confused as you were.
“What are they doing?” you asked in a hushed tone, watching as Mark's expression was just as confused as yours.
"I don't know, they aren't supposed to pit Lando ahead of Oscar" he confirmed your suspicions, making you even more nervous for the outcome of the race.
Lap by lap, you were chewing your bottom lip and picking at your fingers like crazy, listening in to the radios for both Oscar and Lando. As time passed by and Lando did nothing to signal he wanted to let Oscar through, defeat was slowly starting to settle into the pit of your stomach.
The win seemed so distant now, so far out of reach as Lando continued to pull away from Oscar, building an even bigger gap with each corner.
"Lando's gonna come around, don't worry. He knows Oscar deserves the win" Mark comforted you as he saw your nervous lip biting, squeezing your shoulder.
You nodded, your eyes not wavering from the screens in front of you. It was lap 67 out of 70 and Oscar still couldn't catch up with Lando, making the entire garage start pacing around in worry.
But then, the miracle finally happened.
As soon as he got to the straight at the finish line, Lando suddenly slowed down, allowing Oscar to breeze past him and reclaim the race leading position. You let out such a big sigh of relief, seeing Oscar on his way to finally achieve his dream of winning a Formula 1 race, right before your eyes.
Somewhere in your mind and soul, your heart ached for Lando, having heard the way his engineer talked to him on the radio to convince him to give Oscar the position back. No matter what the circumstances could have been, emotional blackmail is never the answer, especially not when it causes bad blood between colleagues who respect each other as much as Lando and Oscar do.
"Come on, baby" you whispered nervously under your breath, seemingly holding your breath for those last few laps of the race, praying to God that nothing would come between Oscar and his first career win in Formula 1.
And when the moment he took the checkered flag first, all hell broke loose in the garage. Everyone was congratulating each other, you wee hugging the life out of Mark and jumping up and down, clapping your hands and screaming at the top of your lungs.
Mark didn't want to admit, but a few tears had fallen down his cheeks as well, no matter how hard he had tried to hide them away from everyone around him.
The next moments were spent waiting around as the entire team ran towards the podium, but you and Mark decided to hang back and wait for Oscar back at the motorhome.
You spent your time making small talk with each other, helping pass the time as you watched Oscar's interviews with Sky Sports on the TVs around you. You watched Oscar with a fond smile on your face, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.
Thinking back on your relationship with Oscar, you only just realized just how far he'd come in his journey.
Ever since he was young, he has worked so hard to be the best, to make himself and his entire family proud of him. Everyone saw the potential in him, everyone supported him because they believed in his talent, and all those years of really hard work and dedication have finally paid off. He had finally won a race.
You couldn't even describe the pride you felt, how thankful you were to be able to be with Oscar in these amazing moments in his career, just like you were there for every single win and accomplishment of his.
Another hour had passed before Oscar was finally finished with every interview and he came looking for you. Mark had left in the meantime and went back to the hotel, but you were adamant on waiting for him.
He found you now waiting for him in front of the McLaren Motorhome, freshly showered and basking in the post-win glory.
You didn't even let him say anything to you before you ran up to him and threw your body against his, enveloping him in the biggest hug you'd ever given him.
"Wow" he grunted as he felt you smashing against his body, chuckling in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you in return, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your sweet and delicious scent.
"I am so proud of you, Osc" you murmured against him, tightening your hold against his neck.
You heard camera going off around you in the distance, but neither of you paid them any mind. It was just the two of you in that moment, and nobody else besides you mattered.
The two of you decided to get to your hotel quickly, wanting to be alone to really bask in the glory of his maiden win. Your driver worked quickly to get you to your rooms, which you entered giggling and holding onto each other.
You settled quickly into your bed, laying on your sides so you were facing each other, limbs intertwined under the thin sheets.
"How does it feel?" you asked him, the tips of your fingers caressing his cheek and the side of his neck softly.
He sighed, hesitating a little to answer, which made you furrow your eyebrows.
"It feels amazing" he smiled and answered, but you knew there was more to it than he wanted to admit.
"What's wrong, Osc?" you pouted, giving him your best pleading look so he wouldn't argue with you about whether to tell you what was bothering in or not.
He sighed, closing his eyes before speaking.
"It feels undeserved. Lando was leading, the gap was 6 seconds between us, he should have won the race" he said, opening his eyes to show you the sadness he had been feeling ever since the team orders came through.
You shook your head, cupping his cheek into your hand and running your thumb up and down his cheek.
"Baby, this win was yours. The only people to blame here are the team and the strategy they decided on. They never should have let Lando lead if they knew from the very start they wanted you to win. It was neither Lando's nor your fault that they messed up. Lando gave you the position back because he knows how much you've done for him in the past and wanted to do the same for you" you explained, making Oscar bite his lip.
"You really think so?" he asked, his voice still a little unsure.
"I know so. You deserved this win more than anyone right now, and this just proves how good you are and how much you can do with a good car. Don't ever doubt yourself because of the team or anybody else"
He smiled, kissing your palm.
"I love you so much. Thank you for being here with me and always knowing what to say" he leaned in and pressed a long deep kiss against your lips, making you smile.
"I love you too, my race winner"
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b14augrana · 4 months
Text
Lacy
Fridolina is perfect in your eyes. Too perfect, actually, and it drives you crazy
Fridolina Rolfö x reader
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masterlist
Warnings: jealousy and reader lowkey has issues
A/N: i’m the biggest frido fan on this planet so this sucked to write ily frido 🙁. i wrote this at 12:30 am so it’s not very good + not proofread and i’m very sorry in advance
You grew up loving Spanish football.
The technicality of it was your favourite thing and later on, you tried to incorporate it into your own play style. It set you apart from your teammates and made you stand out… until she came along.
The Swedish talent, incredible defender, the attacking fullback of everyone’s dreams. Fridolina Rolfö. You had played against her a handful of times and she was nothing short of talented; she was probably the first fullback you had seen that dribbled so high up the wing with so much confidence and actually managed to make something out of it.
Your usual position was in the midfield, but when your starting right back got injured, you found yourself shoved into a completely new position. You loved carrying the ball up the field and creating plays or dictating the game, but from the back, you could hardly do that. Due to the lack of real opportunities to let yourself shine, Fridolina got all the attention. The more goals she scored, the more assists she got, the more headlines she made in German sporting media.
The worst part? She was genuinely nice, so you had no proper reason to hate her besides being extremely jealous. She was kind and always complimented you during training and encouraged you during every match.
Your transfer to Barcelona couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time. Just as you were nearing your breaking point with her perfectness, your contract expired and you signed with the Spanish club. You had no intention of renewing with Wolfsburg, not while she was there. You wanted that fresh start, you wanted to thrive in a completely new place and finally learn the Spanish way of football first-hand.
The first season was amazing. You were breaking personal records and putting up performances for your new club, solidifying yourself as a starting player. You made friends and learned many things both on and off the pitch, and on top of that, you won your first couple trophies outside of Germany. You were at the peak of your happiness.
Of course it had to be ruined by a certain Swede arriving at the club only a season later. “(Y/N), it’s such a coincidence! I loved playing with you, so I could never turn down the contract they offered me,” she happily said to you on her first day. You smiled back at her despite wanting to bash your head against a wall, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean.
She stuck with you during her first couple weeks at the club until she got familiar with everyone else; to you, those were the worst weeks of your life as you were forced to confront the reality that she was perfect as ever and you were sickeningly envious of her.
Over the course of the next season, it became harder to understand how she had almost no room for imperfection. Her only flaw was something stupid like not being able to bake which was something you couldn’t do either, so that didn’t make you feel any better.
Everyone in your team loved her. She was a good player, an excellent one even. She was soft spoken and respectful, and a team player who fit right in almost immediately.
She loved cafés and coffee, like Ingrid. She enjoyed kayaking and swimming, like Lucy and Ona. She loved dogs, like Alexia. She liked to travel, like Aitana.
She was everything you wished you could be, and it made you curse her name in the dark emptiness of your bedroom after hours. It made you watch her for a second longer during training, even while you’re on the other side of the pitch. It made you smile at her in the changing room and ask her how she is.
She didn’t even have to try to be adored, whereas it felt like you had been trying to catch anyone’s eye since the beginning of time. She breathed and the media was all over her.
As the season progressed, the envious feeling became a regular thing when you were around Fridolina, so you had gotten used to it. You felt bad for feeling such a way but your heart overpowered your brain and the feelings persisted.
You were having the best season of your career so far, between qualifying for a Champions League semifinal and becoming a league champion once again on top of winning the Copa de La Reina and Supercopa.
During the second leg of the semifinal against Chelsea, you were taken out inside the box, granting your team a penalty. You stepped up to take it with the chance to put you and your team ahead, but before you could even walk up to the spot, blonde hair swished past you and before you could process anything, the ball hit the back of the net and you saw Fridolina running away to celebrate it. You couldn’t even afford to be angry on the surface, because then everyone would know something was wrong and you’d have to come clean and hurt Fridolina and say something that would surely upset her so.. you celebrated with your team. Like anyone in your position would.
That was your breaking point though — her being under the spotlight once again, proving that she’s so magnificent and better than you and perfect.
Perfect, once again.
The worst part was, even as you sat in the changing rooms on your own, fighting back tears, you knew you couldn’t entirely loathe her out of any amount of jealousy. You couldn’t loathe her more than you loathed your own mind, which betrayed you by worshipping her like some sort of idol.
The rude awakening that you worshipped her settled in as you tried to ignore the fact she was the type of person you prayed to be like, to a god you barely believed in.
Fucking perfect angel Fridolina. Damn you.
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wosoamazing · 5 months
Text
Portugal Training Camp & Roommates
Part 4 - Fire on Fire Series
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It was your first day in Portugal, meaning you were now also officially part of the team, having joined the first team training session of the year in the morning, spending the afternoon on the beach with the girls, as this wasn't an official team trip for competitions you had roommates. Leah was yours, you didn't quite know what to think of it but it couldn't be a bad thing. Right?
After dinner the team spent some time outside before all heading to their respective rooms for sleep. However you weren't asleep, and from the amount of rustling coming from Leah's bed she wasn't either. However unlike her you were still, as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling, you couldn't get the 2 missed calls from both your parents each out of your head, they hadn't called you in years, let alone messaged, so why now? You couldn't understand, until you spoke to your Moster before dinner. She had informed you that they wanted to talk to you, apologise for what they had done, now realising that they did the wrong thing when you were younger. But you couldn't fathom the sudden change in beliefs. They had to have an ulterior motive. Leah must've realised you were awake at some stage, as you noticed her move onto her side, resting on her elbow as she brought your attention to you.
"What's wrong?" She questioned, the sudden words slightly scaring you.
"Nothing," you tried brushing her off, as if she would care about your problems.
"I can tell something is bothering you, you can just talk and I can listen if you want"
"My parents want to talk to me," you spat out, "oh," you turned to face her, mirroring her position.
"I've haven't seen or heard from them for years, the last time they contacted me was before, well, um, no it doesn't matter, but every time the have contacted me since I moved out they have thrown things at me, they even offered to buy me a penthouse apartment in New York if I quit football and did a PHD. They don't believe someone can be successful unless they like have a PHD basically. I moved out when I was almost 11. My Aunt says they are reaching out to say sorry but I find that hard to believe after all these years,"
"Why don't you just message them, ask them to come to one of our games."
"Yeah I suppose, I mean if they aren't really determined with whatever they are planning on doing they won't come, it would be time much time, effort and money otherwise," the fell into a silence before you blurted out, "They were the reason I wasn't getting played, they were paying the club money as a support under essentially a fake company, they figured if I wasn;t getting played I would fall out of love with the sport, but it clearly didn't work." "I'm sorry, that's unfair, you're a really great player, and your aunts must be good people, as you've turned out to be an amazing human," Leah started to ramble as she got anxious. You were glad there wasn't much light in the room as you felt yourself blush.
"Thank you, good night," "night," you rolled over and eventually fell asleep.
_____
The training staff decided that they were going to do fitness testing, the beep test included, you had been going for quite some time you, Lotte and Emily were the only ones currently still going, the rest of the team had either stopped or been pulled out by the medics or trainers so they didn't over do themselves.
"How?" Lotted huffed out as she doubled over trying to catch her breath, having given up, you on the other hand looked like you were still just doing a light jog.
"Okay Y/N, we're stopping you there, sit down and make sure to have plenty of water, we're also going to get you an electrolyte drink," you huffed in annoyance but complied and walked over to were Leah was sitting on the sidelines, taking a seat next to her, she lent towards you with her arms open ready for a hug.
"I don't think you want to do that, I'm like seriously sweaty," You warned her, "That performance deserves a hug, no matter how sweaty," you laughed as you lent in briefly hugging her, before moving to lie down, your legs still bent up, "you weren't wrong about being sweaty," she joked causing you to laugh "I did warn you,". 
You and Leah were alone, as she watched the rest of the team do the other tests, you were recovering lying on the grass, with a towel over your eyes to protect them from the burning sun. "How did you do that though? Are you actually fine?" Leah asked, ever so slightly concerned, she didn't want you to be overworking yourself due to being new, "I could've kept going if it wasn't so hot, or the fact that I wasn't stopped," you said and she nodded, not that you could see though, you were informed you couldn't continue testing until you had cooled down the medics not wanting to risk you getting heat stroke, however there was no way that was going to happen anytime soon, due to the scorching sun, "Can we go inside for a bit? Speed up the cooling down process," you asked her as you pulled the towel off your eyes, lifting you head slightly to look at her, "Sure," you stood up quickly, and turned to Leah who had reached her hands out for you to grab and help her up, "you haven't done any testing today, you should be the one helping me up" you joked, and she pushed you playfully once she was standing, "that's no way to treat someone who just helped you up," "oh shut up," she said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her side as you walked.
_____
"I don't even know why you like playing them, they're so boring," you said as you sat down next to Leah on one of the sun loungers, you had to admit they were really strange sun loungers, as they were double ones, for some reason meaning two people had to sit on one, but it didn't matter too much as the team was close.
"They use my brain, keep me smart," she teased "Don't want you falling behind the rest of us I suppose," you teased her back, "Oh shut up, just because you duxed," you stuck your tongue out at her before pulling out your phone to message some people, until Leah managed to rope you into helping her do sudokus, you both giggled away as you spoke, before you were interrupted by Beth, "Why wasn't I invited?" she whined "We're doing sudokus," you explained, "oh ew, what movie are we watching tonight?" she asked, not getting a response.
"Beth," you both whined as you looked over to her who just shrugged her shoulders, "what?" she knew what, she just sent a message to the team asking when everyone else would be out because she felt like a third wheel with you two. Before long the whole team was outside and the movie had started, they had decided on ABBA which you didn't really like and so you quickly found yourself succumbing to your exhaustion from the day. Your eyelids opened around half an hour later and you realised you had moved closer to Leah and snuggled into her side while you slept, she had her arm out around your shoulders, "Oh sorry," you groggily spoke as you lifted your head preparing to move, "Oh, it's fine don't worry, you don't have to move if you don't want to, it's more warm like this too," she said softly smiling as her eyes stayed on the screen, you let out a small hum before placing your head back on her shoulder and quickly drifting off again.
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romihearts · 11 months
Text
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bf headcannons ! ┊ft. first years
synopsis. how they would be as your bf!
content. gn reader, intended lowercase, swearing
her notes. 2nd years next!
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ACE TRAPPOLA * ˚ ✦
an asshole to everyone, but becomes even more of an asshole to you /hj
would be a tease, spontaneous flirts really surprise you since you'd never expect this from ace. not to mention, he likes seeing your flustered face, he thinks its adorable.
like showing you off to his friends, spouting things like "y'know they're just so amazing 'cause you'd really find yourself admiring them and—" as epel cuts him off,
his love language ? acts of service. even with small things like tying your shoelace, or removing dust from your uniform.
would drag you along to wreak havoc in heartslabyul with deuce, but if you three get caugt he'll plead to riddle that you're innocent
FIGHTS WITH GRIM LMFAO they'd definitely give glares to each other 'cause they wanted to be in your arms !!
DEUCE SPADE * ˚ ✦
your #1 supporter fr !!
he'd genuinely love anything you do <3 and help you wholeheartedly too !!
if you ever play a sport, he's already learning it so he can play with you. oh you like cooking? he's in cooking classes making a gourmet ass dish. you like arts? he compliments each and everyone of your piece.
he really admires you, you're also that one special person he can always confide in.
tries not to get you into ace's trouble, like ace he will plead and beg riddle that you were not an accomplice whatsoever in ace's doing.
if he ever get's a chance to ride a blastcycle, he'll always take you with him, going to very beautiful places just to see your smile.
his love language? words of affirmation for sure. he'll always be there to tell you the things he loves about you <3
JACK HOWL * ˚ ✦
he was quite distant with you when you first met him, sometimes avoiding you. and you'd get sad since you wanted to be friends with him too.
buuttt, what you didn't know was the reason he avoided you, he fell in love first sight and didn't know how to deal with it.
atleast now, both of you are dating !! yet there are some times where he looks at you a bit too long and stars slightly avoiding you once more. you were just so perfect and he didn't want to seem disrespectful from the staring so he excused himself immediately from you 😭
he deeply respects you, so if you ever have any problems with him tell him immediately so he can resolve and understand you : )
his love language? acts of service too! he'd try his best to help you with anything. wether it'd been academics or sports, he'll do his best to help you.
EPEL FELMIER * ˚ ✦
he DID NOT like you when you first met !!!! which is super contrasting to him now as you're dating.
he thought of you like another pompous student because you looked too amazing for him T-T
nonetheless, when he got to know you more, both of you clicked immediately!
he fell in love with your charms and courage, admiring it aswell.
seeing as you're so badass while still remaining so courteous, he didn't know if he wanted to be you or be with you fr
eventually he was now with you, and the both of you rest in the solace within each other. confiding in them.
oh if epel's having a problem with vil? you're there to talk with him about it. same with you, problems with academics? he'd say your totally right! /j but having him there felt comforting and reassuring already.
his love language? physical touch. behind closed doors he's like a cat because he clings so close to you. displays some pda too, like his hand around your waist or shoulder.
SEBEK ZIGVOLT * ˚ ✦
unlike epel and jack, he was absolutely encapsulated when he saw you. he seriously could not stop staring once he saw you, someone he admired more than malleus ?!
while he is prideful and loud, his confession to you was like the total opposite. either way you still accepted it <3
if you get quickly startled by loud things, sebek will try his best not to scream when you're around.
but, he is blunt and honest aswell with someone. if you ask for criticism on something, he will properly explain what he criticizes then help you afterwards.
his love language? acts of service, he'll service you to the best he can. he'd be willing to help you with schoolworks too.
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artydonsgf · 5 months
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tashi duncan, my poor villainized girl i love you so😭😭😭 everyone wants to write patrick n art WHERE ARE THE TASHI STANS… so i present to you, tashi duncan as your gf, wife, and a small nsfw bit because im in love with her
Tashi Duncan as your Wife
- when you meet tashi, you’re smitten immediately
- shes charismatic, she’s beautiful, she has kind eyes, and an ambitious personality
- talking to her makes you feel on top of the world
- you start out as friends, and while you have feelings for her, you don’t want to be the asshole who befriended her just to fuck
- you’re content listening to her rants about her games, the latest sponsorship deal that has her face slapped on it, and any other tidbits she has to share
- you two are chilling at her dorm one day, cuddled up in bed like always
- you want her and it’s obvious but out of respect, you stay in the same position as always and don’t dare mess up your friendship with your feelings
- she turns to you with a serious look on her face and you worry, this is when she’ll tell you that she’s sick of your obvious feelings
- instead, she looks strangely vulnerable
- she asks you if you’re only here because of her status
- you’re confused and she immediately tells you that nearly all of the people she hangs out with are only there because she’s good at tennis
- before you could even tell her how wrong she is, she backtracks and says nevermind
- you reassure her that tennis could disappear tomorrow and you’d still be at her side forever
- you’re not a tennis player and you couldn’t really care less about the sport, you’re only there for tashi
- when the injury happens, you stay true to your word
- the first few months of recovery are hard but you two are glued at the hip
- you play with her sometimes and you know it makes her feel better because she beats you every time
- makes her feel like she’s not a loser just because she can’t play professionally anymore
- you start dating soon after, it only felt right
- an amazing girlfriend
- very direct and if she has a problem with the way things are going or your behavior, she’ll set it straight immediately
- she’s not trying to lose you so she’ll ground her teeth through uncomfortable conversations if it means you’re stronger together at the end of it
- enjoys romantic gestures, both receiving it and giving it
- staunch believer of the tashi duncan words of affirmation agenda
- absolute queen with her words, she makes you feel like the most loved person on planet earth
- she proposes to you the very night you planned to propose to her
- you exchange rings and immediately plan a small wedding
- having an intimate wedding is the best thing in the world for her
- spending the day surrounded by the people who truly love her and not what she can do for them
- values privacy and despite how famous she still is, she’ll never put you in the public eye unless you’re 100% down
- excited to announce that she got married to you, she’s so very cute
NSFW
- praise QUEEN
- you do anything n she’s praising you for it
- likes to be dominant but if you really work for it, she’ll let you take over
- your arguments are very rare but on days where you’re both being really petty, yall just fuck it out
- you’re too exhausted at the end of it to even remember why you were arguing
- founder of munch nation
- she just likes making you feel good
- complete tease when she’s feeling particularly dominant
- makes you work for it and if you work enough, you’ll be rewarded real good
- aftercare with her consists of a very good shower where she washes your hair, puts good smelling lotion on you, and cuddles you to oblivion
- after you guys change the sheets ofc, she’s not sleeping in that mess
- isn’t really into quickies, she prefers taking her time with you
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diorsluv · 5 months
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infrunami (lh⁴³)
❝ in which you’ve always been in love with your childhood best friend, but he would always be the right person at the wrong time ❞
wc: 5.8k
warnings: god there’s so much angst, reader is kinda inconsistent, mentions of blood/injury, mutual pining, idiots in love, running away from “rejection”, reader is touchy with jack and besties with quinn, no use of y/n, if i missed any lmk!!
notes ) when i tell you this took me WEEKS and WEEKS just to compile a simple 5k fic.. i think it’s kinda obvious where i stopped and started back up but i tried to blend it in as best i could!! this will be a two parter simply because i was draining myself trying to drag it on, so stay tuned (might take a while)! AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST thank you to my wonderful, amazing, supportive wife @dior-roses for beta reading this (i was terrified)
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As a kid, you always moved wherever the Hughes moved—it was something about the bond between your fathers that couldn’t keep your families apart for more than a week. Regardless of how many times you moved, you never felt alone. You and Luke were in the same grade, and Quinn and Jack were always looking out for you two, so isolation was never a concern for you.
Although you were inseparable with Luke, Quinn had always been your best friend. The four-year age difference between the two of you was almost invisible, and throughout your youth, you would always find yourself in his room, staring at the ceiling as you talked about everything. 
You would tell him about your silly school girl crushes, and he would ramble to you about hockey and all the petty drama that happened around him. In fact, he was the reason you learned hockey in the first place. Your father could never keep your attention on the sport for over five minutes, but the way Quinn talked about it so lovingly was what motivated you to step on the ice. 
Your love for hockey spurred your relationship with not only Quinn, but also Luke and Jack, to grow closer than ever. Every day in school, you and Luke would gush about the games you had watched the night prior, and every day after school, all four of you would head off to practice for your respective club teams. If you weren’t already inseparable from the way your families were bound together by an invisible rope, then you were forever connected through hockey. 
You quit after a few years to pursue more academic routes, but the sport never left your spirit. There were many occasions where the boys would refuse to play if you weren’t there, simply because your presence was the only thing to motivate them to get on the ice, especially if they were having a bad week.
Somehow, though, along the way, you caught feelings. Feelings that were far too heavy to have just surfaced from the depths of your heart. No, what you felt for Luke seemed to have always been creeping just between the line of what was certain and what was unknown. There was no other explanation as to why you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him without being on the verge of exploding. There was no other reason as to why you could spend months on end with either of his brothers but couldn’t last one minute sitting beside him. 
As soon as you came to that revelation, you were done for. It was over. You would rather die than acknowledge the feelings you caught for the boy that had been by your side since you were born. Because of that, you spent all your time with your best friend and his younger brother, and both your families sensed the shift as soon as it happened.
Especially Luke.
Oh, the poor boy, his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized you were avoiding him. You held your breath every time he stepped into the same room as you, let alone when he tried to stand remotely close to you. You diverted your attention away from him as much as you could, and the boy you once knew as your other half now seemed to be universes away. 
It was your doing, but in a way, it was his. How dare he make you fall for him? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, and definitely not to him. It wasn’t fair how he could make you fold in seconds with the way he looked at you from the other side of the room but simultaneously have a girl wrapped around his arm trying to take all his attention away from you. He was the only boy on your mind, but he always managed to push you to the darkest parts of his brain, putting you on hold when the more important girls were right in front of him. 
If only you knew. 
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Quinn bounded down the stairs of your lake house, which was conveniently right next to the Hughes’, with an old framed photo in his hand. “Hah! I was right!” His exclamations took your attention away from the pasta you were cooking as you now turned to his self-righteous figure. “You would never let go of that stupid plushie.”
The two of you were arguing over what (and who) you were and were not inseparable with just prior to his search for the picture, and he claimed there were multiple photos of you hugging your favorite Elmo plushie. There was a mutual agreement that Luke was one of the things—or rather, people—you couldn’t fathom to be away from, but neither you nor Quinn had to verbally confirm it. There was no need. 
And, to be completely honest, Quinn had barely spoken about his youngest brother throughout the time you’d been spending at the lake houses. A few years back, you had reluctantly told him how you felt about Luke, and ever since then, he’d made it his mission to make you feel the most comfortable you could possibly be whilst sharing a connected lake house with the boy you’ve loved since you were children. The eldest saw the way you tensed up when you recognized his brother’s footsteps creaking down the stairs when it came time to eat breakfast, and he sure as hell saw the way your eyes blew wide whenever you accidentally made contact with him. 
It scared you how much Quinn seemed to notice about you, especially since he and his brothers were all busy with their demanding careers that left little to no time to be tending to some childhood friend who was stuck with a crush on the most recently debuted boy. Yes, he was still your best friend (that much hadn’t changed since your childhood), but all you could do was FaceTime each other, and even then, it was difficult to find time. It was the same with Jack; sometimes, they would be too tired for practice; other times, they would be exhausted from a home game and possibly frustrated had they lost; and most of the time, they weren’t even home, so the time difference, albeit miniscule, was still difficult to navigate considering you were a busy person too. 
That meant that you met up as much as you could and you stuck by each other’s side until you were forced apart by the demands of being a professional hockey player. All that time together when you were younger meant you struggled to be without each other as you got older—maybe your parents should’ve realized that, but then again, it was probably their intention. 
“Okay, I did let go of it. Multiple times, actually,” you refuted with a small frown, the expression on your face practically meaningless as your best friend laughed. It only egged him on further, evoking a complaint from your lips. “Quinn! It’s not funny!” 
“I mean, it kinda is.” He struggled to stifle his laughter as he rounded the kitchen island to stand beside you. Your hand mindlessly dragged the wooden spoon through the soft noodles floating around in the boiling hot water, and he wondered how your skin wasn’t burning. Gently removing your hand from the utensil and replacing it with his own, the eldest Hughes boy continued his teasing once he looked at your still-upset face. “You’re such a kid sometimes, you know that?”
Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head in annoyance. Quinn always said that to you. Always. He never failed to address you as ‘kid,’ and no matter what you did, he always managed to bring it back to how you ‘were such a kid.’ You huffed, “You’re so fucking annoying, Quinny. I’m gonna go piss off Jack. Keep cooking, and if you burn the house down, you’re paying for all of it.” 
“You’re forgetting I’m a millionaire.” His laughter filled your ears once again, and your only response was the finger you lifted at him over your shoulder.
After walking out of the kitchen of your own lake house, you took a few strides over to the sliding doors that led to the connected portion of your two homes. Your father and Jim had built it together, way back when all four of you were far too young to understand what normal lake houses were supposed to look like. It was essentially a screened-in sunroom overlooking the absolute beauty of a lake out front. They managed to hook up a large, flat-screen television on the wall, throwing a couple bean bag chairs and a rug into the room. The rest of the furnishing was left completely up to you and the Hughes brothers, so the furniture would change up every few visits. 
Oftentimes, you would find Luke there, just sitting against the one wall that had a bit of a bump-out. He liked the way it felt against his back, like it actually supported him compared to the fluffy chairs that laid in the middle of the room. Whether he be on his phone, playing video games, or reading a book that was required for summer class, he would always be in the sunroom. The floor directly before the bump-out was much more worn compared to the rest of the room, the discolored wood showing just how often the youngest Hughes would find himself in the confines of the area.
There were many times when Luke would flee to the sunroom in his times of need, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. If anyone were to try to enter the room and speak to him, he wouldn’t respond. He would only ever talk to you. You were the one and only person to talk him out of his thoughts, the only one who could convince him to leave the room. Those nights were comprised of him refusing to leave your bed and whining if you got up in the middle of the night. 
You missed it. 
But you weren’t kids anymore. And, again, it was your fault you weren’t close anymore. You deliberately distanced yourself from him. 
After pulling yourself away from your own thoughts, you tugged the Hughes’ sliding door open, the smell of freshly grilled shrimp welcoming you into the cozy house.
“Hey, sweetie,” Ellen’s soothing voice called out to you, smiling at you from her place at the kitchen sink. “How’s the pasta going?” The sound of the running water could barely be heard over the hockey game playing on the television, your father entertaining Jim and his youngest son with light chirps towards the losing team. 
You could feel Luke’s eyes set on you. Shrugging, you replied, “I told Quinny to take over and not burn the house down.” 
This was a regular occurrence whenever you came back to the lake for the break. You, your mother and Ellen would split up the food duties so that there was a lot of food but didn’t take too much time to cook everything. Quinn and Jack would help out a bit, but they would only ever take on the physical tasks. Luke used to help out when you were children, but ever since the distance you wedged between the two of you, he stopped helping out as much. 
You looked around for Jack, trying your hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze in your search for his older brother. Ellen had now returned to her cooking, and the fathers were too invested in their conversation for you to intervene. Your eyes were darting everywhere but at your ex-best friend, and as soon as you made eye contact, you couldn’t look away.
It was too difficult.
It was so stupid.
It wasn’t fair. 
His hazel eyes were too pretty. The way he looked at you made it hard to deny him the satisfaction of giving him attention. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon, but you couldn’t see that. You were blinded by your abundance of self-deprecating thoughts to notice. 
“Hey,” he mumbled, voice being drowned out due to the other activities occurring throughout the house. You mouthed the same word back, fighting the urge to walk over to him and apologize for avoiding him, apologize for distancing yourself from the one person you know you could never live without. If you allowed yourself to break, you would never forgive yourself. He doesn’t like you back, you told yourself. You can’t embarrass yourself.
So, instead of going with your heart, you went with your brain and made your way upstairs. If Jack wasn’t downstairs, then he had to have been upstairs doing God knows what. 
“Jack?” You called out, running your hand along the railing of the staircase once you neared the top. 
“In here!” His muffled voice came through the door to his bedroom, and you’ve seen him in enough compromising positions to the point where you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be cautious. Once you opened the door, you were met with four gazes planted straight on you. You suddenly felt exposed despite your thick pajamas and only felt some sort of reassurance when you found Jack’s eyes. “Look who finally came up here!”
All four boys sat on Jack’s bed with controllers in their hands, the game on the TV now paused as their attention focused solely on you. You knew Trevor, Alex, and Cole, but you hadn’t seen them in so long that it felt awkward. “Oh, uh, hey. Quinn’s probably gonna burn my house down and I didn’t wanna be down there with Lukey, so,” you trailed off, pursing your lips. 
“You’re still on that?” Alex questioned with furrowed eyebrows, placing the controller in his lap. You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what the boy was talking about. He continued, “I thought you got over him, like, months ago.”
Right. You had forgotten all about your accidental drunk confession the last time Jack’s friends were over. Last summer, your revelation was fresh on your mind, and you and Luke were still as inseparable as ever. His friends had also visited the lake house at the same time everyone else was staying over, so it made for a ton of chaos and little to no privacy. 
Luke and his friends had left the house to go out, and for the first time, you stayed behind. Trevor and Cole were sitting at the fire pit outside, beers in their hands as they discussed the upcoming camps they were to attend. You were on your fifth drink, and although Jack was keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t noticed how you had accidentally walked into the bathroom while Alex was in the process of throwing up. 
In the midst of your tipsy daze and the fact that it just so happened to be Luke’s bathroom, you called out for him. “Luke? Is that you? You know I’m always telling you not to drink that much, stupid.” You used your foot to shut the door behind you as you placed your drink onto the counter. 
Alex, confused but sobering up, looked up at you with puffy eyes. Only then did he notice how you were much more than tipsy. 
Your gaze was blurry and your words were beginning to slur, “If I didn’t like you so much, maybe I would be more mad at you. I don’t know why I like you, anyway. You’re always being so stupid, ‘cause you can’t see that all those girls are only ever using you for your brother or your body. They’re so mean. And I’m your best friend, not them! You always ditch me when you find another girl, and then they say shit about me behind my back. I don’t like them. What do you even see in them? God, what do I even see in you?
“My stomach hurts. I think I’m thinking about this too much. Or maybe I’m thinking about you too much. I hate you so much, Lukey, but I can’t ever hate you. You’re too pretty. This is so unfair and my head is pounding. Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up. Move over.” After your little monologue, which was definitely not directed towards the person on the receiving end, you were quick to fall to the ground beside the toilet and dip your head past the ceramic seat. 
Alex brought his right hand up to flush the toilet so you didn’t accidentally stuff your face in a load of his vomit, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on your back. “‘m not Luke, but you’re safe with me.” He continued his motions throughout the five-minute duration of your illness, bringing his hand up to massage your head once you were sure you were done.
Your head was pounding and your ears began to ring, but you were visibly more sober compared to how you were a few minutes ago. Barely able to lift your head, you thanked your friend with a weak smile.
He only returned your expression and brought you up to your feet, leading you out of the restroom and towards Jack’s room. It obviously wasn’t the best option to bring you to Luke’s room, albeit being the default room after a long night, so his older brother’s bedroom would have to do. 
Alex laid you down onto the mattress and tucked you in, lightly patting your cheek as you thanked him once more. He only chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Anytime.”
And then you were left alone in the confines of Jack’s room.
You chuckled awkwardly at the memory, shaking your head in response. “Nope. Still on it.” Your hands brought themselves up to your thighs, rubbing your palms against your thick pants in an attempt to wipe away the tension in the room.
Trevor and Cole were aware of your feelings as well; you were sure everyone in the house knew. They only shot you sympathetic smiles, their priorities set on finishing the NHL 23 game plastered all over the screen. 
“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
“We believe in you.”
Their words, no offense, meant nothing to you. They were great people to hang around, but they weren’t the best guys to turn to when you were in a time of need, especially since you weren’t very close to them. They had their own issues that didn’t concern you, and your issues were ever so far from their minds.
After a few beats of silence, the mood of the room began to slowly eat away at you. If you were to open your mouth and bite down, you might as well have taken a chunk out of the thick tension lingering in the room. It was even more awkward knowing that Luke was much closer to them compared to you, and you knew they would let things slip eventually. 
Not that he didn’t already know, though.
The four boys exchanged glances with one another, shrugging in unison before resuming their gameplay. You took it as your cue to stay, seeing as they didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and you were much more comfortable in Jack’s room than you were downstairs. 
Allowing yourself to flop onto the boy’s soft mattress, you fished your phone out from the pocket of your pajama pants, finding solace in the way the friends laughed with each other. You remained like that for about twenty minutes before Jack beckoned you over to the edge of his bed, where he was sitting, to ask you for your opinion on something.
After dishing him your thoughts—which barely seemed to help him—you stayed snug at the foot of the bed, extending your legs out so that they lay atop his. It was one of your more typical positions when spending time with Jack whilst he was playing video games. Whether it be with his friends or with his brothers, you always found yourself comfortably overlapping your limbs with him, and today was no exception. 
You both shuffled around a bit until you found a comfortable position. You sat with your legs resting on his thighs and your head laying on his shoulder; he sat with his forearms resting on your left leg. The others paid no mind to your odd positioning, their minds too preoccupied with the competitiveness flooding through the screen. 
So you stayed like that for a while. For a long while, actually. You only lifted your head when the sound of light knocking echoed against Jack’s door once more, and soon after, you found his youngest brother cracking the door open and peeking through. 
His eyes had yet to land on your figure. “Hey, Mom’s looking for—”
Before he could utter your name, he looked you dead in the eye. 
“Oh.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. Him, of all people, should be the least surprised to see you cuddled up with Jack. “You.”
There was a certain poison in his tone that struck you right where it hurt the most. It was the way he spat through gritted teeth and looked at you with so much indifference. (It was really a façade, but you were too entranced under his gaze to realize that he could never bring himself to hate you.) The whole room seemed to shift uncomfortably with the way the tension flowed between you and Luke. 
No matter how hard you tried to mask your pain and your desperation for him to notice you, you would never be able to hide how you really felt. Not with him. 
“You can tell her I’ll be right down,” you murmured, slowly moving your legs from Jack’s lap, but before you could even finish your sentence, Luke disappeared as quickly as he came. When you looked back in the door frame, all you were met with was a blank wall and the faint image of where the boy stood before.
You could feel Jack lightly pat your thigh, trying his hardest to support you with the little attention he was diverting toward you. With a small sigh, you pushed yourself off the mattress and wiped your palms against the fabric of your pants, reluctantly leaving the room. Alex wished you good luck, but his fleeting words flew straight through one ear and out the other. 
Downstairs, the fathers were still loud as ever, and the sizzling in the kitchen now turned into the delicious aroma of freshly cooked lunch. Quinn’s voice echoed up the staircase, and you could hear how he attempted to entertain his mom as she waited for you to come back down. 
As soon as your feet hit the bottom floor, you could already sense Quinn’s eyes on you. He looked like he was being held hostage, and you could argue that he was begging you for help. He wasn’t the only Hughes boy with his gaze locked on you, but he was the only one you would give attention to.
“Oh, look! Just who you were looking for, Mom,” the eldest boy managed to divert the attention away from him and towards you. You scowled at him just before Ellen turned around, plastering on a smile as you walked towards them.
You gently placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I was just up in Jack’s room. Luke said you were looking for me?”
“Oh, that’s right! Could you grab that fancy set of plates from the cabinet in your house, sweetie? It’s too high to reach for any of us parents, and you know Lukey and Quinn don’t help out with anything anymore,” Ellen spoke, evoking an argument from her oldest son. It only took one glare from her to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his complacence. 
You nodded your head with a grin, still fighting more giggles as you swerved past Quinn. He lunged at you, bringing his hands up to your waist as if he was going to tickle you, but you managed to jump just out of his reach before continuing on your journey to grab the plates Ellen wanted. 
Once you made it back into your house, you dragged a chair up to the counter and climbed onto the cushioned seat, opening the cabinet and setting your gaze on the fake fine china. You only grabbed a few at a time, not wanting to break anything in fear of your mother getting mad at you. Eventually, you had gotten down to the last few plates, and once you had them in your hands, you closed the cabinet and stepped down from the chair.
Perhaps you should’ve been more aware of how high you were, because somehow, the bottom plate smashed against the countertop and shattered in your hands, causing you to let out a small scream. The porcelain had broken into small pieces, cutting into your palms, but you managed to place the reset of the plates down before beginning to worry about the amount of cuts you had on your hands. 
“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, looking at the floor to see how many shards were scattered around the floor. Your only form of protection on the soles of your feet were the fluffy socks you were wearing, and the distance between the pieces was far enough to where you could step past them. 
As soon as you deemed it safe to walk normally, you swiveled on your heel to analyze the messy situation you found yourself in. You definitely should have been more careful, and now you had to clean up all the small plate shards with cuts in your hands. Fuck, your hands were still bleeding, and it hadn’t even occurred to you that it was now dripping down your arms. 
All you could do was stand in place, shock still coursing in your veins. The sink on the island was in the middle of the plate murder, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally stepping on something sharp. Before you could even begin to make your way to the half-bath near the kitchen, you heard footsteps bounding through the sunroom. The glass door slid open far too aggressively—so much so that you thought it would shatter, too—and you assumed it was Quinn coming to check on you.
The plate breaking was loud enough to be heard from the other house, especially with the connected room, but you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal for him. You were usually trustworthy enough to not accidentally hurt yourself, but this was a prime example of how you really weren’t.
You didn’t want any questions to be asked, and because it was Quinn, you knew you would get made fun of before being helped. “Don’t worry—”
“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice that spoke up was not Quinn. 
Immediately snapping your head around to look at the boy standing there, frozen, your frown contorted into a grimace. “Luke—shit—hey,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, I was just being stupid and—”
“What the fuck happened? You’re gonna bleed out if you don’t wash your hands and wrap them up.” His heavy footsteps inched closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you, taking your forearms into his calloused hands and inspecting how bad your injuries were. “C’mon, we gotta wash this off.” 
Luke led you to the bathroom as if it was his own house, running the tap and allowing the water to get most of the red liquid off your hands before taking a clean towel and gently tapping the rest off. 
He was unbearably gentle with you. You felt ashamed to think of how fast your heart was beating at such a simple gesture; as if him caring about you meant anything except the fact that growing up together meant you both cared for each other when someone was hurt. Sighing to hide your true feelings, you slowly took your hands away from his touch, “Luke, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to do this.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to clean you up if you hurt yourself.” He immediately took your hands back into his and resumed his actions, quickly grabbing ointment from the cabinet above the toilet. Squeezing out a dollop of the cream, he soothingly rubbed it against your wounds with a focused frown adorning his features.
You took the chance to admire him candidly. He was so worried about you, and it was so cute. He wouldn’t even let you take care of yourself because he wanted to do it for you, and he was so serious about it. You had always thought his focused face was adorable, even when you were kids, but as you grew up, it only got cuter and cuter. Fuck, you were so gone for him.
You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he looked up at you and immediately looked back down at your hands. He cleared his throat awkwardly and questioned, “Does it hurt?” 
“Hm?” You snapped yourself out of your trance, your face heating up with the unexpected eye contact. “Oh, uh, no. It doesn’t hurt.” The pain you were feeling came more from your heart than it did from your body. It hurt to be in such close proximity to the boy you longed so deeply for. The awkward silence floating between the two of you pained you even more. 
Luke nodded and rummaged through the drawers until he found gauze, taking great care to wrap it around your hands without causing you too much discomfort. When he finished, all he did was usher you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back, turning off the lights without so much as a word. 
Only when you entered the kitchen did a small mumble leave the boy’s lips. “Try to be more careful next time, okay? Can’t have you going around injuring yourself and shit, or you’re gonna make me—us worry too much.” He cleared his throat after his slip-up, hoping you didn’t hear what he said. You did. “Oh, and Jack told me to let you know the guys are throwing a party tonight. He said to invite you so you could buy cups and shit, but you’re kinda . . . banged up right now.”
“It’s fine. I’ll go grab stuff from the store later—”
“No!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes blowing wide once he realized how loud he protested your suggestion. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I’ll go get the stuff. You shouldn’t drive with your hands all cut up like that. They don't care who buys what.”
You blinked at him. He was acting so weird; it was almost like he cared about you. But it didn’t matter. The others were throwing a party, which meant there were going to be tons of girls all over him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to get mad if you were the one who caused the rift between you two.
With a shrug, you silently agreed to his proposal and turned to grab the remaining set of plates still sitting on the counter. You couldn’t even take two steps before Luke was already sliding ahead of you and taking the ceramic platters into his arms. “Luke, you really don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, look,” you showed him your hands, front and back, to try and convince him to let you do something. 
“No, you’re hurt. And I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I made you injure yourself more.”
Best friend.
Two very opposing emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, the term ‘best friend’ still sent a pang through your chest, knowing you would never be more to him than just a best friend. But on the other hand, it relieved you to know that he still considered you close enough to be his best friend. 
God, you were such a mess. You were running away from him in fear of rejection, but then you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. What the hell was wrong with you?
Eventually, the two of you made it back into his house, the boy announcing your arrival and placing the plates down onto the dining table. He immediately found his spot back on the couch in between the fathers like before, and you instantly got hounded by both the mothers’ questions being launched at you all at once.
“I’m fine, Mom,” you grimaced. You attempted to pull your hands away from her inspecting gaze, but she brought them right back to her face. “Mom, it doesn’t even hurt anymore! Lukey already put medicine on it and wrapped them up, anyway!” You were growing impatient, and your complaints slowly turned into whines. 
Thankfully, as soon as she heard Luke’s nickname leave your mouth, she dropped your hands back to your sides and grinned widely at you.
“Well, then! I’m sure you’re just fine, aren’t you?”
You sighed begrudgingly. “Yes, Mom.” You were just happy she stopped nagging you.
What you didn’t know was that she and Ellen were in pain watching their two children stay so far away from each other for such a long time. The parents always thought you two would have confessed by the time you graduated high school, but you were in college and Luke was having an amazing rookie season. It clearly didn’t work out the way they thought it would have.
You also didn’t know that Luke’s heart practically exploded out of his chest when he heard you use his nickname so nonchalantly. He always overheard you addressing him as Lukey to his brothers, but you never did it when you knew he was listening. It was almost as if saying it made your mouth run dry. 
And it did.
It finally came time to eat lunch, and your stomach was threatening to growl before you all sat down at the table. Trevor, Alex, and Cole decided to eat at a restaurant instead, encouraging Jack to eat with your families rather than hanging out with them. So he stayed.
There was a specific order in which you sat. There were five members of the Hughes family and three members of your family, meaning there were eight seats total; the rectangular table fit the usual number of people perfectly. The fathers would sit on either end of the table, and the mothers would sit to their right. You and Jack sat next to your mothers, while Luke sat beside you and Quinn beside Jack. 
It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.
Not when Jack kissed you on New Years. He still had to sit opposite to you at the table. Not when you and Luke had the biggest verbal fight in your life, leaving you both with scars on your knees. And especially not when you finally recognized the feelings you had for your best friend.
And as you sat in your spot, with Luke’s thigh pressed against yours, you realized that maybe loving him wasn’t all that bad.
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— diorsluv 2024
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gomu-fer · 7 months
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The bird’s call
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Zoro x bird!reader
Warnings: fem reader, yes reader turns into a bird, pure fluff idiots in love and confessions
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: In which it finally dawns on Zoro that he loves you, whatever he shall do?
Notes: yes this is the same reader from my other writings that can turn into a bird can be read as a stand alone but recommend this one!
᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃
“You’re sloppy” The swordsman blurted as he adjusted your position harshly, you rolled your eyes at the comment
“I am an archer I had never touched a sword in my life”
You were a mighty warrior, although a lot of people failed to see it, you were glad the ones that count did, between them happened to be Luffy who offered you a place in his crew, and surprisingly Zoro, having this unspoken respect and admiration
“If you can hit a far away target, you can draw a sword”
You both shared an amazing bond when it came to battle. When he was strong, aggressive and always acting on instinct, you were precise, agile and light on your feet. Together you were unstoppable, you were the hand that wilded Zoro’s sharp sword, as he would hit recklessly, you’ll guide it and made sure to hit targets that may approach at the long run. The chemistry you both exuded was something never seen before, it made battle feel like a vigorous dance, a fun sport.
Training together on the other hand… was tough, at least for you. The swordsman had practically begged for you to start sword training, you were hesitant as how good of a teacher he would be, and oh god he worked you to the bone, always stumbling back to your room muscles aching and ego deflated. Your styles as good as they worked together, they were completely opposites.
“First position” the green haired man ordered which made you move back immediately, losing your balance as you adjusted to the awkward stance
“Wrong again” He said as he kicked your leg slightly which made it shake “You’re a warrior, look the part”
You let out a loud sarcastic scoff “It would be easier if you stopped being so mean”
“I’d be nicer if you listened”
You had spend half your life burning yourself out to be seen, to make people notice you were capable, always working twice as hard as everyone else in your stupid island so they would even let you grasp a weapon.
To be a warrior and to be a woman, didn’t go hand in hand
That’s why you didn’t hesitate to join Luffys crew, you knew he valued your place but most importantly it didn’t matter who you were or how you looked. It was the perfect path for you to leave your island behind and finally allow yourself for grow at your own pace. Having Zoro hovering over you and correcting every move and breath wasn’t appealing, it reminded you to all those times you spend swallowing the disrespect from others, of course you knew your crew-mate was doing this in good heart, it almost felt like a favor, but it troubled you non the less
“This is stupid” you whispered between pants as you catch your breath
You knew if you kept going at this, it would eventually end on you harvesting a hatred for Zoro, which funnily enough it had happened before and it wasn’t quite nice, but maybe it was better than being blinded by the love you had for him and only him
“It is only if you allow it to be” he weirdly tries inviting you to continue as he fixes your stance, one hand steady yet soft on your arms other in your hip, you can feel the scars on them but it doesn’t bother you, it feels weirdly familiar. You glance at him as your heart jumps around threatening to escape at any given moment
What Zoro would never admit, not even to himself, is that this was the reason he wanted to train you. He did not care even a little that you didn’t knew anything about swords, or that your stances were always wrong.
This were the only moments he’d allow himself to indulge in the best pleasures life could offer, you
Zoro was not only strong in body but also in mind, always disciplined and forever only focus in achieving his dream, until you appeared. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just be without you, he would catch himself staring, looking for you, attentive and basking in you, confused on why even tough his heart would pump crazily, felt unarmed and nervous, he had to be near you in any way possible
You were intoxicating as sake, addicted to every part of you, eager to know and trace all edges of your soul. A walking contradiction you were for him, the sword he pointed directly to his heart, finding himself dreaming, seeking and yearning for you
But he kept everything close to his heart, at least until he understood, until he could control it
Impossible, not even the greatest swordsman in the wide world could tame love
Zoro holds your stare as you study his features, even though he could feel every inch of him shaking, he could not look away. He drowns in your sent as his eyes travel to your lips wondering how soft would they be?
It had been long ago that you had come to terms with the torturous feelings you had for the swordsman, but you promised yourself to never instigate.
It would only bring you trouble because obviously he would never reciprocate, right? There was no space for you in his mind or heart, you were a distraction, just his crew-mate, a friend at most
Sure you wore your heart on your sleeve and it was painfully obvious how head over heels you were for that man, but you thanked whatever force in the universe had made him so oblivious. If only you knew he was too busy figuring you out to notice…
So you held yourself back even if everything in you screamed that you closed the tiny gap between you both and kissed, for your own sake
You take a step back, or you try before Zoro’s grip on your waist tightness afraid you’ll fly away, not wanting the moment to fade. Your eyes widen but before you can question him he clears his throat and lets go, hands running towards the grip of the sword
“Just uh… hold it up like this” he directs you red splattered all over his cheeks eyes adverting from yours
It finally dawns on him, he doesn’t just like you, he loves you, like romantically. Having you that close had left him wanting more, as vulnerable he had felt, he was obsessed with the feeling of your bodies at such proximity, the intimacy of your eyes meeting while rose tinted your faces, the revolution on his heart that you had started only by glancing at him. Maybe he despised the power you held, but at the same time he was glad it was you, you the kindest sweetest yet strongest person he had the honor of meeting, the perfect match, most suitable to hold his heart, to own him.
But what was he to do now?
Time slipped through his fingers as he drowned in questions and feelings, ending in just a back and fort of brushes, gazes and long talks that both of you enjoyed of course, but the unspoken feelings that hanged in the air left you both breathless and awake at night.
“Just tell her Zoro is not that hard” As his last resort, Zoro found himself seeking advice for Nami, but he started to regret his decision
“Easy for you to say”
The navigator rolled her eyes, this whole situation had her, no scratch that, everyone on the ship amused and annoyed. How could both of you be so blind to notice how far you had fallen for one another
“Ugh c’mon, you’re practically always together and if not you’re staring back at each other! You’re both ridiculous” the statement took Zoro aback, red creeping from his neck as he bickered back at Nami
“Thought you would’ve notice by now” she giggled still amused by his lack of expertise “All you gotta do is go and talk to her and be honest”
Zoro’s eyes wondered to where your laugh sprung, Luffy and Usopp were throwing grapes as far as they could for you to catch up in the air morphed into your bird form, sometimes indulging them in some flying tricks as you fly back down. As much as it pained him Nami was right, there was no way around it, for him to bottle up everything he felt would end up in nothing good and he would rather die of embarrassment than to hurt you. Still the thought of you liking someone as devilish as him haunted the swordsman, he had to trust the navigators words for this one which wasn’t ideal but at least he felt reassured.
Nami read the panic that settled on her friend’s features, which was comical to her considering how painfully obvious you were
“She likes you man, I promise, and I don’t go throwing that word around” the woman squished his shoulder as the last drop of motivation she could offer before leaving
Another laugh escaped your mouth that had Zoro fawning all over the deck. You were so lively, kind and driven, but also strong, how could you ever give your time of day to a man that spent his days doing nothing but working, sweating and drinking. Zoro was a man that had walked through this world with an iron will, while you also had to step your ground, you managed to remain soft and sweet which was deemed impossible to the swordsman but still, you were the living proof that there was a way to own the softness in your strength which always impressed him.
That evening as you finished your personal training which consisted of the longest cardio session Zoro had ever witnessed someone do, some yoga and target practice, he silently waited, sun sharing its last drops of sunlight as it disappeared behind the ocean
“Hey~” Zoro spoke as he saw you walking back to your quarters, which made you jump and thug at the dagger wrapped around your thigh, when your eyes met his, you let out the a breath as he snickered at your reaction
“Don’t do that again” a smiled formed in your lips as you heard Zoro’s laugh, it was a sound that you rarely got to listen but so loved to
“So jumpy” he joked before turning to the sea leaning his strong figure on the railing, you followed beside him, gaze fixed in the watercolors that painted the scenery. Usually whenever you and Zoro shared silence it was comfortable and inviting, but today you could sense tension and doubtfulness hanging around the green haired man, nevertheless you don’t break it
A shaky heavy hand travels from the railing to yours which makes you flinch, you turn to him, to find his grey eyes dissecting you completely, again, you don’t say anything you stay still as to not scare him away. His breath becomes uneven, all the words he had rehearsed washed away at your touch, melting in each other instantly
“Zoro?” You finally whisper after a long staring contest between you two, his face turns back at the ocean making his earrings chime together, your face looks for his once again, a hand holding his cheek coaxing him to speak up
The light kisses you just right, you look angelic in his eyes, hair falling perfectly framing your face and your skin soft like a pillow, how could he word any thought about you that has crossed his mind without tripping? He slowly removes the hand that rest on his cheek and with all the courage he could gather he kisses it, eyes closing drinking all of you he could take
You are the one at lost of breath now, heart drumming strong in both of your chests
“Be mine” as blunt and more of an statement than a question as it sounded, it was the first thing that he had found himself thinking of you since meeting, a giggle makes its way trough his ears as his eyes widen thinking you were making fun of him, before even registering anything else you pull yourself closer, noses lightly touching
“Please…” a whisper could be described as something louder compared on the way he plead for you, it melted you completely to see the strong stoic swordsman like this, guard down and honest
“I’ve always been yours”
You listen to your heart for once and kiss him, softly and tender just like he imagined. You held his neck to keep you closer as he finally realized whats happening and welcomes you instantly, holding your waist capturing you under his big figure. Nothing exists anymore, just you and him under the sunset lulled by the so familiar waves of the ocean that seemed to have softened just for the tow of you.
You let go as much as you could, not being able to step back as he held you strongly, catching both of your breaths as they mixed together
“Good, would’ve been awkward if you didn’t say yes” you roll your eyes and smile ear to ear as he follows your head to rest his forehead on yours
“I love you, Zoro”
᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃
I love them sm *holds them close* I’ll be writing more about these two. Feel free to request and correct me, english is not my first language
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crssvjb · 2 months
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Moments -Sebastian Vettel
Sebastian Vettel x Senna!reader
Summary: Moments of your relationship with the pilot Sebastian.
Warnings: Mentions of Ayrton Senna here (not many). A little long.
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The Encounter - 2008
The year was 2008, and the Formula 1 tracks were both a place of excitement and nostalgia for you. As the daughter of Ayrton Senna, the racing legend, the world of F1 has always been part of her life. Now, as a mechanical engineering student, you landed an internship at Toro Rosso, an opportunity that blended your passion for engineering with deep memories of your father.
One afternoon, in the Toro Rosso pits, while analyzing the car's data, the voice of Sebastian Vettel, a young German driver, interrupted his thoughts. – "These numbers always seem very complicated." – He said with a relaxed smile.
You turned around, surprised to see the pilot next to you. – "Well, to me, they tell fascinating stories." – You replied, smiling. The connection has been made. Sebastian, curious and respectful, began to ask questions about his father and the time when Senna dominated the tracks.
– "Ayrton Senna is a legend. What is most incredible about him that people don't know?"
You smiled, appreciating the sincerity of the question. – "In addition to his incredible driving skills, my father was driven by an intense passion for competition, but also by a deep respect for other competitors. He sought excellence, not just for himself, but to elevate the entire sport."
Sebastian, his eyes shining with interest, replied: – "It's incredible how he influenced Formula 1 and all of us. I'd love to hear more about him."
Between conversations about cars, racing and engines, you got closer and became friends. Sebastian, being a promising driver at the time, showed genuine interest in his passion for mechanical engineering. The bond between you grew, even when he left for the Red Bull team the following year.
The Invitation - 2009
In 2009, Red Bull Racing became the new stage for the emotions of Formula 1. Sebastian Vettel, now the team's driver, was conquering the world with his skill on the track. Still, you remained a constant part of his life, the connection growing with each run.
The day after the exciting race in Singapore, Sebastian invites you to a quiet dinner. The atmosphere is cozy, an elegant restaurant in the city. As you browse the menus, Sebastian smiles, looking straight into your eyes.
– “These moments on the track have been even better with you around.” - He says. – "And I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with me. Not as teammates, but as... something more."
Sebastian holds his hand, demonstrating the sincerity of his words. – "I really wish this was something beyond the track. What do you think?"
The sincerity in Sebastian's words is moving. You smile, feeling a rush of emotion. – "I would love to, Sebastian. It would be a pleasure."
The Instructor - 2010
The year was 2010 and the Formula 1 season was about to start. Red Bull's Sebastian Vettel had a bigger challenge ahead of him. And you? Well, you were about to embark on the journey of a lifetime. Red Bull Racing decided that you would be Sebastian's instructor for the season.
The days leading up to the start of the season were intense. You and Sebastian spent hours on the simulators, discussing strategies, adjusting technical details and analyzing each curve of the circuit. It was a perfect elaboration, where the pilot and the engineer shared ideas and experiences.
On a rainy afternoon at the Red Bull office, Sebastian looks at you with a smile. – "You really know what you're doing. It's amazing how everything makes more sense when explained by you."
You laugh, sharing your knowledge with passion. – "It's all about understanding the nuances, the details that can make a difference. And when you drive, these details become even more crucial."
The season begins and the races bring challenges and triumphs. In a memorable race, Sebastian achieves another podium at home. The atmosphere in the pits is electric, and after the team celebrates, they turn to you.
– “This is for us, for our partnership.” – says Sebastian, and before you know it, your lips meet in a passionate kiss, revealing to the world the connection that developed behind the scenes.
The news about you two spreads quickly through the media, but you face everything head on. At a press conference, Sebastian smiles for the cameras. – “Finding someone who shares the passion for the sport and understands the madness that is Formula 1 is rare. And I’m grateful to have her by my side.”
The coming months will be one of continued celebration. Wins on the track create a unique dynamic. The world championship is an achievement for both of them, and on the podium, after the last race of the season, Sebastian surprises everyone again by holding the trophy, looking at himself and saying: “This victory is ours.
Commitments - 2012
After an intense and exciting race, you and Sebastian return to the hotel tired, but radiant from the victories achieved on the track. The atmosphere is relaxed and intimate when you find yourself in the hotel suite, with the city lit up in the distance.
Already dressed casually, you snuggle into bed, sharing laughs and memories of the day. The city lights mix with the twinkle of the stars, creating a magical scene.
Sebastian, looking at you tenderly, comments: – "You know, today was a special day. Not just for the races, but for being together. I have something for you." – He gets up and takes something from the table next to the bed.
Upon returning, Sebastian holds a small box. His eyes light up as he opens the box, revealing the dazzling ring. – “From the moment we met on the slopes, my life changed, darling. It’s not just about running for me, it’s about the journey we’re building together.”
He looked into her eyes tenderly. – "I don't just want the races, I want all the twists and turns of life by your side. So, Y/N, will you agree to be mine forever?"
The moment for Y/N is as if she were participating in a romantic movie. Your romantic movie. The city lights, the few stars in the sky and Sebastian's request create an unforgettable scene.
You, excited, respond with a smile lighting up your face. – "Yes, Sebastian. I accept with all my heart."
He gently places the ring on your finger, a tangible symbol of your commitment. The cold ring is bright and contrasts with the warm exchange of glances between you. An enveloping hug follows, as if it were a seal that transcends words. The racing heart is the echo of the emotion shared in that intimate moment. Amid the silence of the hotel suite, the kiss that follows is soft but full of meaning.
Weddings and Achievements - 2013
In 2013, on July 13th, the wedding of Sebastian Vettel and S/N Senna was a great spectacle. The lush garden was adorned with a profusion of flowers, while the mountains in the background provided a picturesque backdrop. The golden early afternoon sun cast a magical light on the ceremony, where Sebastian anxiously awaited the arrival of his bride.
The bride, radiant in her wedding dress, walked towards the altar. Sebastian looked at her in awe, and when she finally reached his side, he whispered, "You look amazing." The words were soft, but they carried with them all the depth of the love they had built since that first conversation.
The ceremony was filled with personal vows, each word echoing the unique journey that brought them here. When it was time for the vows, Sebastian held Y/N's hands gently.
– "Y/N, since the moment you came into my life, everything has changed. You are not only my partner, but my light at all times. I promise to be your constant support, to love you on good days and bad, always ."
With tears in her eyes, Y/N replied: – “Sebastian, you are my passion and my calm. I promise to support your dreams, laugh with you in the joys and face the challenges together. ."
The kiss after the vows wasn't just a symbolic gesture; it was the confirmation of an eternal promise. Under the warm applause of the guests, the celebration continued in an atmosphere of joy and happiness.
The reception was a festival of colors, twinkling lights and carefully planned details. The party continued with dancing, laughter and unforgettable moments. Each reflected the couple's unique personality and the love that permeated their union.
In the privacy of Sebastian's three-time world champion's room, the trophies and photos that told the story of his victorious career were proof of his achievements not only on the track, but now also in his personal life. The wedding photo occupied a prominent place, symbolizing the harmony between professional and personal victories.
Life continued with travel, intimate moments and the making of memories that would become fundamental pillars of the journey together.
At the end of 2013 the Brazilian Grand Prix arrived and emotions were running high. Sebastian, determined and focused, aimed for his fourth world championship. The Interlagos tracks witnessed a spectacular performance, culminating in the victory of Sebastian Vettel, who became four-time world champion.
In the pits, the team celebrated and Y/N was there, proud and excited. Y/N, with a smile lighting up her face, approached him. – "You deserve it, love." – She said, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Thus, under the vibrant colors of Brazil, the couple celebrated not just a victory on the tracks, but the victory of a love that withstood all the curves and straights of life. Sebastian Vettel's fourth championship marked not only racing glory, but also the consolidation of an extraordinary journey, where love and success were intertwined in a unique and unforgettable narrative.
Family and New Challenges - 2015-2022
The years that followed marked an extraordinary journey for Sebastian Vettel and S/N Senna-Vettel, a path full of challenges. In 2015, Sebastian embraced Scuderia Ferrari, diving into a chapter full of promises and achievements.
The space dedicated to Sebastian achievements, where his shiny trophies are kept, but now also for children's laughter and colorful toys. Elias, the firstborn, was born in January 2016, filling the house with the sweet melody of a baby's cry and transforming the world bedroom into a haven of joy and life.
Antonella's arrival in May 2019 further expanded the Vettel family's horizons. The days were filled with laughter, games and the innocent wonder of children discovering the world. The pantry room, where all the trophies are kept, now decorated with drawings and children's toys, has become a microcosm of family love.
At the end of the 2021 season, where Sebastian was at the Aston Martin team, he decided to retire and had Y/N's full support.
On a calm day, Sebastian and Y/N found a moment for a serious conversation about the future, sitting in the world room. Looking at the trophies that told the story of his victories, Sebastian began, "I think it's time for a change, Y/N. I've decided to retire at the end of this season."
Y/N looked at him surprised and, at the same time, understanding. – "Sebastian, this is serious. Are you sure this is the right time?"
Sebastian held her hand tenderly. – "Yes, I'm sure. I want to be more present for you, for Elias and Antonella. Every time I get home it seems like they grow another 5 centimeters. Life is more than tracks and races."
Y/N, despite her surprise, smiled, feeling the warmth of her decision. – "I understand. We will be by your side no matter what."
The last Grand Prix - 2022
The final Grand Prix of the 2022 season was a bittersweet spectacle. In the Aston Martin pits, the atmosphere was charged with emotion as the Vettel family gathered to support Sebastian in his final race. Watching the race, Y/N got emotional.
Six-year-old Elias watched beside her, with a mixture of curiosity and understanding beyond his years. 3-year-old Antonella was excited, fascinated by the colorful cars on the screen.
When the race ended and Sebastian crossed the finish line for the last time, Y/N was emotional and proud. As they approached the pits, he affectionately joked: – “You are sadder than me, because I am retiring”.
Y/N laughed, wiping away a furtive tear. – “It’s hard not to get emotional, Sebastian. There were so many achievements, so many laps together.”
Sebastian hugged her, looking at Elias and Antonella. – "You saw daddy run, didn't you?"
Elias, his eyes shining, nodded. – “It was incredible, daddy!”
Antonella, in her enthusiastic way, exclaimed: – “I want to run too!”
Sebastian laughed, taking her in his arms. – "Who knows, little one. Life is full of surprises."
⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁴
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divine-donna · 3 months
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jealousy jealousy
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a request: "hey! I wanted to make a request for a Tashi Duncan fanfic <3 a headcanon, about Tashi and reader being friends and playing tennis together, but reader is chubby and insecure a about her body, she feels a little jealous of Tashi and the other girls that play tennis and feels guilty about it. Tashi is secretly in love with her, at first reader can't really accept because she can't believe someone would be in love with her. Can you do female reader?"
this is going to be one of those rare occasions where i will be more specific about a reader's appearance and gender. something i also think is important is that i tend to imagine my reader as not white. so this does bleed into these head canons. if that's too serious for you, you're better off not following me.
pairing: tashi duncan x chubby! fem! reader
for vibes: "jealousy jealousy" by olivia rodrigo
context: stanford 2007
word count: 1.8k words
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Love cannot exist without Envy.
When you love someone, to some extent you envy that person. There's something they have that you envy. That is what you grew up believing and that is the worldview of love that you were left with. On top of your mother telling you that girls like you do not receive the flowers, guitars, and romantic rescues that all the rom-com heroines you watched had.
Your favorite romantic comedies were My Big Fat Greek Wedding, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Love Actually–the third being more of a guilty pleasure. The only movie that came close to representing a girl like you, with your body type, was My Big Fat Greek Wedding. That was the right kind of rom-com, the one where the woman didn't need to change herself. She just developed confidence and scored the guy of her dreams.
Unfortunately, real life was not as kind as the movies.
"You can't quit tennis!"
"What makes you say that?" You play with your food, poking the fettuccine alfredo with chicken recipe you cooked up for the both of you. You were craving something creamy this time of night. And Tashi was too.
"You just can't. You're amazing. Why would you quit? With talent like yours, it seems like such a waste to just quit." Tashi had already finished her plate.
"It was fun while it lasted. But I don't see myself doing it."
"Bullshit (Y/N)." You could never look at her when you lied.
Tashi recalls the first time she saw you play. It was the day after her own match. And you were pure fire. Your strokes were quick, most of your serves unreturnable. She felt bad for your opponent because you never gave her a chance. Instead, you decimated her. In short, you were a phenomenon. Someone like herself.
You two played the next day. Tashi won, but she never felt such a thrill, such a surge of adrenaline. You were the only opponent she's played so far to have her respect and friendship. You were great. And she wished the world could see what she saw.
Your passion for tennis rivaled Tashi's. It was your purpose in life. It was the perfect sport for you to destress yourself to, hitting balls and rallying yourself against the walls in the public park. You wanted to achieve that envious Grand Slam career title. You wanted to continue in tennis. You didn't want to quit.
"Is it those assholes again?"
You look up at Tashi. You both dealt with your share of racism. But you had an extra pile of shit thrown on top of you. People say all the time that chubby people can't play tennis. And it didn't help that among the players of your generation, you were the only one with a body size bigger than a 14. Being both non-white and chubby only made the vitriol worse and the interpersonal competition harsher.
"Come on. You can't listen to them." Tashi sets down the pasta bowl. You painted it for her that one time you guys decided to try pottery painting. She takes a sip of water from the mug you gifted her. And the cherry on top was that she was wearing one of your shirts. You left it at her house when you slept over.
"That's easy for you to say." You set your plate down.
A frown forms on her face. You don't like it when Tashi frowns. "(Y/N)..."
"It's all they talk about." Your eyes rake over her figure. Thin arms. A limber, slender body. Athletic with the right muscle balance so she didn't seem like too much of an athlete. She was model material, Tashi Duncan. And that's why all the offers came rolling in for her. All the brand deals, all the money. And you were instead left with scraps, still wrapping duct tape around the handle of your dad's Wilson racket. Relying on the graciousness of Tashi Duncan when you were in a tough spot. She bought you new shoes in time for the U.S. Open this year because your old ones had holes and were worn down. You hated relying on her. You hated that she always insisted you didn't need to pay her back. Your company was enough.
Your love was enough.
"What's the point in playing tennis if no one is going to talk about me playing tennis!" You raise your voice out of frustration. You were so angry that you could throw the plate at the wall and break it. "All everyone wants to talk about is how fat I am and that fat girls don't belong in tennis! It's not going anywhere! No one but you sees my potential. And my family and I have been losing money! It's too costly. Stanford didn't even take me for tennis." You were accepted for your brains. Not for your true passion. It wasn't worth investing in tennis when you were getting nothing in return. Nothing but racist, fatphobic vitriol that continued to wear you down every day.
"And that's why you should continue to play. You need to prove them wrong!" Tashi keeps her voice steady. "You prove them wrong, then they can't say shit."
You wanted to believe her. But you knew the truth. You weren't Tashi Duncan. You could never be Tashi Duncan. Only girls like Tashi Duncan and Irina Petrovska got the brand deals, got the fame, got the money.
Only girls like them got to continue their passion and turn it into a career.
"Proving them wrong won't do them anything. At this point I'm just...a circus pig." Your voice drops, but Tashi can hear what you said.
"You're not a circus pig."
"That's easy for you to say! You're...You're fucking perfect! You're the face of tennis! You're who people think of when someone brings up the term tennis player. Not me! You. I'm not meant to be on the court."
"Don't say that. Don't. Say. That." Desperation bleeds into Tashi's voice as she looks at you. "Do you remember what we agreed on during that after party? After our match?"
Your lack of a response tells her that you do. "We're going up there. Together. Next year. Doubles. Me and you. We're going to take over the world." Her fingers tap against the table. "You can't quit! You promised you would play with me! You promised you would. And we always keep our promises."
"Well maybe I'm fed up. Maybe I'm just done with it all." You sip your water. "Proving them wrong only seems to enhance the insults I get! It only makes things worse for me! And it only hurts you!"
"Why would it hurt me?" Tashi is in disbelief.
"Because I'm someone you shouldn't associate with. I shouldn't be playing with you! I don't deserve to! I'm a terrible friend!" Your voice cracks. "I am so jealous of you Tashi. All the time. There's always this sick twisting in my stomach. And you deserve everything that you've gotten but I can't help but feel that some of it should go to me! But it doesn't because I'm the fat one! And no one wants to see a fat girl in an Adidas ad. And it's not fair to you because you didn't do anything! And I don't deserve to be friends with you or even play against your because I'm a terrible person!"
She doesn't respond. She's too busy looking at you, watching the way your face contorts with emotion, the way your tears fall from your eyes. It was like you were unloading everything.
Tashi hated seeing you cry.
"You can't quit tennis."
You look at her with shock. Is that all she could say after everything you dumped on her?
You expected her to fume, to lash out. Or maybe to tell you to go kill yourself. She's done her fair share of that to people. And yet, all she can tell you is that you can't quit tennis.
"You still somehow managed to make this about tennis."
Tashi leans forward, her hand taking yours. She enjoys the feeling of your soft skin. You always took great care of your skin, moisturizing constantly. If she needed some cream to moisturize her dried out hands, she could always ask you. You had so much in your purse. She could smell that lavender cream you used. Some said it was the scent only old people picked. But she found herself craving that lavender smell late at night in her bed.
"I understand...everything...you're saying. Remember that time we were talking? About how we both envy white girls and their opportunities and their easy life and their ability to get away with everything on the court." She remembers the thinly veiled racist remarks fired at the both of you when you were playing against white opponents. The rage she felt but couldn't exercise because letting her emotions run free would only make her the angry Black woman and they would instead penalize her.
"Tashi-"
"I don't hold it against you. That's...the way the game is right now." The both of you were playing a white man's sport. Unfortunately, this was the reality.
"It's...stupid. And ridiculous. You shouldn't even be friends with me!"
"(Y/N), I love you."
Your breath hitches in your throat. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Tashi Duncan...loves you? Even after everything you confessed? You wanted to say so many things, wanted to tell her that she was wrong to love you. She couldn't love you and shouldn't love you.
"Why?" is all you managed to muster out.
Her eyes soften. "I..." There were so many reasons why. Your laugh. Your determination. The way you ran your fingers through her hair when she laid her head on your lap. How soft you were. Your hugs. Your lips. Those unreturnable serves of yours. The way your skirts would hike up those thick thighs of yours. That serving tick of yours where you would tap the ball against the edge of your racket three times.
Her heart sinks when you pull your hand out of hers and stand up from your seat. You needed to take a walk. You needed to think for a minute.
"(Y/N)..." Tashi stands up to follow after you. She grabs your wrist and you turn around to look at her.
"Tashi...I don't...I don't deserve you-"
She leans forward, pressing her lips against yours harshly. You're shocked by the sudden feeling, taking a step backwards into the wall. Tashi cups your face with both of her hands, keeping you there. She pulls away, watching your face to see if you would react in any way. "(Y/N)..."
You close the gap between you two once more and place your hands on her waist, slowly guiding her to the bed as she gets lost in the smell of lavender.
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aubaee · 2 months
Text
weekly nights — k.sy
seventeen soonyoung head cannon
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classmate!Soonyoung in which you met him first year of middle school as the class 'happy pill energy'.
classmate!Soonyoung whom you befriended during sports festival events since you were partners in the one leg race competition.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who you protected over when other students were speaking negatively of him.
"Say that again and see what's going to happen."
bestfriend!Soonyoung who spent days coming over to your house during summer break.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who followed you to the same high school and college since he didn't want to be separated from his best friend.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who encouraged you to join the same dance club as him.
"Try it out for a week and see if you like it. If not, then it's okay. Personally, I believe you're an amazing dancer."
bestfriend!Soonyoung who loves spending time with you but respects you if you needed some time away from him.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who frequently sends messages, pictures or videos of himself in Kakaotalk, especially when he's doing his 'horanghae' agenda.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who bought your ticket to see SHINee's concert together, with the condition of you buying the snacks instead.
"Should we also get that to eat??" Soonyoung exclaimed in excitement, pointing at the food stall.
Shaking your head with a smile, you reminded him how occupied both of your hands were filled with snacks from the food court. "We can't finish all of that, Soon."
bestfriend!Soonyoung who became as the dance club's new president when their senior club president graduated.
"Do you think I'll be able to lead them right?"
bestfriend!Soonyoung who invites you to go bar hopping every weekend together.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who easily gets drunk within four shots in.
"This ice is so cold! It feels so good~" He jumps in his seat, placing his glass on his cheek. "Is it just me or is it hot in here? Or maybe because I am hot."
bestfriend!Soonyoung who goes through many different emotions when he's drunk.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who sulks when you tell him he's a hamster and not a tiger, which you find endearing when he pouts.
bestfriend!Soonyoung in which he becomes competitive in games, just for the fun of entertaining people.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who invites you over to his apartment for a weekly movie night, which occasionally ends with the both of you sleeping on the couch.
bestfriend!Soonyoung in which you go to the dog park together with his dog, Latte, and yours.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who tends to keep to himself about his problems but breaks down once you sensed something was off.
"You always know what to say.."
bestfriend!Soonyoung meets up with you everyday on the third floor of the library to complete assignments.
Soonie : Did you want anything from the cafe? Want me to get your usual snack?
bestfriend!Soonyoung who gets jealous when boys from the dance club flirts with you.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who wraps his arms around your shoulder, intimidating the members who dares to flirt with you in front him.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who tends to impulsively buy you items online.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who deals with your cat behavior, considering he calls himself a "tiger", especially when you randomly bite him out of nowhere.
bestfriend!Soonyoung in which he's technology challenged but still tries his best to play video games with you.
"Can you remind me what this control is for again?"
bestfriend!Soonyoung who tries to tease you but it backfires with him in a flustered position.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who tends to sleep over at your apartment during the weekend after bar hopping.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who likes to cuddle with you whenever he gets the chance.
bestfriend!Soonyoung in which his heart flutters every time you held his hand.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who has affection for you since first grade of high school.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who tried his best to keep his feelings to himself, avoiding the "end" of your friendship.
bestfriend!Soonyoung who becomes wary when you confess that you have a crush on someone.
"Who's the lucky guy?"
bestfriend!Soonyoung who doesn't realize that the guy you admired for years now would be him.
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a/n: this short cannon is dedicated for @marriiemeii <3 my hoshi admirer in crime 🐯 thanks for patiently waiting for a while, i'll write more for you ㅠㅠ hope you enjoy lovelies, let me know what you think. feedback is very much appreciated!
☆ pls like & reblog ☆
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kritischetheologie · 6 months
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Omg you were at the Australia GP?! How was it did you make a whole trip of it etc.
I WAS! It was absolutely amazing-- I did make a whole trip of it, and I am actually still in melbourne, so if anyone else is, hit me up!
I cannot recommend it highly enough as a GP. many thoughts below the cut:
The vibes were incredible the whole weekend; everyone was having a great time in the sunshine, which gave the whole thing music festival energy, but it felt very welcoming and safe and I didn't see anyone get sloppy. I met a girl who was volunteering with the organization racing pride on friday and said that she got a couple of old guys taking a wide path around their booth as if to avoid catching the gay, but that's as bad as any interaction she had. I definitely got the sense that some of the old men who have been into motorsport forever are skeptical of the newer generation of drive to survive fans, especially as an american woman, but it was the sort of skepticism that was allayed by showing even the slightest bit of knowledge of and respect for the history of the sport (I got a fair bit of "wow, you really know your stuff" when I started talking about having gone back and watched the 2010 season). there was a real mix of support-- a lot of mclaren, but fairly mixed between lando and oscar, and then a surprising amount of ferrari (and, hilariously, tons of really beautiful girls who looked like they were incredibly bored, all in ferrari merch. scuderia ferrari the #1 team of hot girls who don't wanna be there?). some max fans, some lewis fans, and a stunning amount of people in mixed merch, wearing a mclaren jacket and aston hat or whatever. nobody seemed to be a die-hard about anyone, and everyone was getting along really well with each other. as I've mentioned, everyone cheered when carlos went p1 in q2, even the people in red bull merch, and everyone cheered when max's car caught fire. everybody is a ferrari fan, etc.
in terms of the event: they clearly had put a lot of thought into making sure albert park could accommodate a couple hundred thousand people, because I basically never had trouble procuring food / drink / water / bathroom in time to make it wherever I needed to go. I sprang for a grandstand seat, and I'm glad I did, since I was alone-- but I think GA can work if you've got a group, so somebody can hold your spot, and there's a lot of incredible GA views. as an american, I was stunned and amazed and overjoyed by how easy it was to get to the gp on melbourne's incredible tram system; they were running extra trams all weekend, had the route changes super clearly labeled, and did a really good job directing people where they needed to go. all in all, I think it was one of the best-run events I've ever attended, without feeling corporate at all (a super-tricky balance). albert park is also just absolutely beautiful, and the track is awesome.
I was sitting at turn 11, so I had an amazing view of one of the sharpest corners, and it was fascinating to see how the drivers' styles differed, especially on their quali hot laps. what everyone says about alonso wringing the neck of the car is so true: he braked so much later, having taken such a straighter line, that I always thought he was going to miss the turn and run off. by contrast, lewis was taking basically the shallowest corner of anyone, barely using the curb at all. you could really see how much he didn't trust the car to do what he wanted it. and oh my god, I do have to give max credit where it's due: his turns were so fucking smooth that it felt like physics worked differently for him than anyone else. oscar, actually, was hitting similar lines, especially late in the race-- I came away very impressed with him. for the race itself, they had tvs and audio commentary, so I felt like I got the best of both worlds experience, getting to watch the race on tv and then see them zoom by in the corners. I found the race a lot easier to follow than just watching it on tv, which surprised me, because the opposite has been true of indycar, but it was easier to remember which midfield battles were going on when I could track them around my corner every lap.
the support races were also incredible. I think I'm going to follow f2 a little more closely this year, not just because I want to see what happens to kimi "the next one" antonelli and ollie "my literal son" bearman, but also because the racing is exciting. the reverse grid top 10 for sprint races is amazing and f1 should import it into their sprint races if they're going to insist on having them.
I feel like this weekend really re-invigorated my love for the sport. maybe that's because literally anybody other than max won, but I think it's also because it was really healing to step outside of the bubbles of internet discourse and just focus on the racing. it was fascinating hanging out all day having a great time with all sorts of people and then logging on and watching everybody be Mad Online. I had some great friendly arguments about whether daniel is washed, who of the class of 2019 is the most likely to someday win a title, vettel vs alonso, etc., but it always felt like a bunch of nerds hanging out at a nerd convention excited to get to debate with the other people who care as much about it as they do. I think we can forget, all being in the fandom together, that we are all here because of the thing we love--that's so assumed as the default on f1blr (why else would you be on f1blr) that it's easier to separate ourselves out based on who we support or don't, who we ship or don't, and so on. not to come off as all love and light and whatever, but the thing that connects us is more important than the differences that separate us.
the city of melbourne is also just wonderful--super hip, full of free museums and little cafes and cool people. totally worth an extended visit!
I feel a bit of the reflexive tumblr need to disclaim how much a privilege it was to get to do this, but genuinely, I just feel really fucking blessed. I told everyone who asked me why I flew all this way for the gp that it was a 30th birthday present to myself (and it is), that flights from california were surprisingly cheap (and they were-- under a grand round trip, which is still a ton of money but less than half what I might have expected it to cost if asked to guess; once you factor in the cost of lodging and race tickets, this trip was definitely cheaper than going to miami or vegas would have been), and that the american races basically never fit my calendar (and they don't). but what those disclaimers don't capture is that this is the biggest thing I've ever done for myself, and I did it just for myself, just because I wanted to. in my post about advice for a 26 year old, I mentioned the trade-off of responsibility and agency. this is the agency half: getting to decide that I love something so much that I'm going to fly halfway across the world to experience it.
so yeah, 10/10 stars, can't recommend highly enough. australian grand prix please sponsor me.
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