elephant-04

Latest Posts by elephant-04

inside you there are two wolves: one wants oscar wdc, the other years for mclaren to burn to the ground

PLEASE LORD 🙏😪🙏

#yuki tsunoda

>replaces liam at red bull

>out qualifies max verstappen

>wins the suzuka grand prix

>refuses to elaborate

>leaves

Your daily affirmations brought to you by Alex Albon

this DIVA ❤️

The radio thing is so funny cause we have

George: ABSOLUTELY ELATED VIVA LAS VEGAS

Max : yes guys haha thank you so much guys wow can't believe 4 time champion wow

Charles: FUCKING HELL FUCK THIS SHIT BEWARE FROM NOW ON NO MORE MR NICE GUY

if you're a fan of the big 3, i fw you heavy

He’s my Roman Empire ❤️❤️

max getting kicked out of the conference hallway for having his own independent press conference, then saying “no problem, we'll do it on the go. come on" and leading a group of journalists behind through the paddock on a trip? cinema

I love him

outside:

fia:

Reposting to remember this 😭

if you’re craving chocolate muffins after the olympic muffin man videos, jordan the stallion on tiktok has the recipe for you

I love them I love them I love them I love them I love them I love them I love them

lando just called oscar "osc" again these little interactions are melting my heart

Pierre and Charles doing la bise kill me now

@leclercphotos on twitter

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

can i please see a fat woman wearing it. yes, i know your sizes go all the way up to 5x. but can i please see a fat woman wearing it. yes, i heard you're woman-owned. can i please see a fat woman wearing it though. yes, i understand you donate 50% of proceeds to this charity. i still do not see a fat woman wearing it. can i please see a fat woman wearing it.

I fucking sobbed

The Bucket List || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.

WC: 5.8k

Story || Death Scene || Bucket Moments

The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Honk, honk!”

You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.

“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”

“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”

“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”

You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”

Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.

“What happens now?”

You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.

“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”

You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.

“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”

You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.

“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.

“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.

“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”

“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”

“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”

Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.

“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”

“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.

Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”

A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.

“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”

You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.

It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.

“I lo-.”

Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”

“I need to tell you.”

“We promised, not until you wake up.”

“But what if I-”

“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”

“I…I’ll see you soon.”

He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.

As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”

You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.

“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”

You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”

Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon. 

“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”

You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends. 

“How are you feeling?”

You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”

Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”

You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”

“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”

You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving. 

Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.

Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen. 

“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”

Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”

“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.

The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.” 

“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”

The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas. 

“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”

“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”

“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”

“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”

Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”

“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”

“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them. 

“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”

He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”

You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”

You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room. 

“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt. 

“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”

Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.

You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.

You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season. 

You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt. 

When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”

Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”

You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” you whispered. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”

“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.

Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”

The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.

“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”

“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.

“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”

Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.

“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.

“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.

It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.

“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”

His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.

“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.

“I miss you every second we are apart.”

You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.

You wished you never answered the call.

You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.

You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.

Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.

“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”

“It’s my bucket list.”

“A bucket list?”

“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”

“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”

His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.

“My results came back…”

“Non, non, baby, non…”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”

Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him. 

Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.

“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”

You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”

He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.

You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.

“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”

You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.

You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.

You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami. 

Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.

“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”

“Well you know what they say about big feet.”

Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”

“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded. 

The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.

“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”

“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”

Marry the woman of my dreams.

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

—

Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”

“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”

Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”

You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights. 

Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense. 

“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.

Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”

“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”

You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”

“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”

Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”

“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him. 

“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”

Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”

You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”

—

“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”

You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late. 

“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin. 

“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”

He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”

“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”

He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“

“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”

“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”

Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.

It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.

Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.

Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.

Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”

You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”

The Bucket List:

Sleep under the northern lights 

Swim with sharks

Skinny dip (not with sharks)

See Christ the Redeemer

Bowl a strike

Go to every Disneyland once

Ride an elephant

Go to India for the colour festival 

Win an escape room

Learn to whistle 

Have a mud bath

Teach Charles to cook

Watch the Grand National horse race

Get a tattoo

Learn to use chopsticks

Throw beads at Mardi Gras 

Have my palm read

Try absinthe 

Ride a luge

Go to a rage room

Join the mile high club 

Catch a fish

Make a will

Bathe in healing waters 

Charles Leclerc - World Champion

Click here for the requested last day alive.

the world is so so mean to sleepy girls. What do u mean i have to get out of my bed

just thinking….only thinking…i know he wouldn’t but yknow just thinking

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

Okay i dont know if many people on here have watched greys anatomy but in s2 e18 when Meredith ignores George and the absolute heartbreak on his face and then when he talks to Izzy and says ‘she doesnt hear me’. I think ill always hate Meredith for that like i just wanted to squeeze the life out of the love sick puppy



Fuck the country club

Dinner with the Parents | JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Requested by anon / Summary: JJ comes over for dinner because your parents want to meet him. However, they begin to insult him and you have to defend him. 

A/N: sorry for any mistakes, didn’t really feel like proof reading. Hope you guys enjoy! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! —> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“My parents want to meet you.” You tell JJ, the two of you standing at the edge of John B’s dock. JJ had his fishing pole in his hand, casting it out. 

JJ’s face scrunches up, “Meet me? Oh great, well there goes our relationship. It was nice while it lasted.” 

You sigh, “JJ they just want to meet you! That doesn’t mean we’re going to break up.” You stand, dusting off your butt and wrapping your arms around JJ’s middle. One hand keeps holding the fishing pole, the other wrapping around your shoulders. “They want to meet the guy who’s keeping their daughter hostage all the time!” You tease. 

Keep reading

Omg

lies & bets

❦ pairings: sirius black x fem!reader

❦ warnings: fluff, ANGSTTT, KINDA smut.

❦ summary: you find out something. and it certainly isn't good.

❦ word count: 1,4k

❦ a/n: not my gif.

because of his not so good reputation with ladies, you would never though you'd give him a chance and actually end up in a relationship with him.

but there you were; in an almost six months relationship and you couldn't be happier.

you loved him and he loved you.

the relationship was beautiful.

but, as always, nothing good lasts forever.

let's take it from the beggining.

"listen, y/n," said sirius one sunny september day when you two walked from your last period of that afternoon. "you. me. tomorrow evening. and sunset."

"are you asking me on a date, black?" you raised an eyebrow.

"that's exactly what i'm doing, y/l/n."

"and you're asking me to watch sunset with you?" you smiled. "wow, you truly know how to bewitch a girl."

"i can steal some food from the kitchens and we can have a picnic if you'd like."

"oh, stop, it sirius," you laughed, "or you're gonna make me fall in love with you."

that was his goal.

that was exactly his goal.

but you didn't know that.

• • •

and that's how it started. by a beautiful date where you watched sunset, ate some snacks and listened to some cheesily romantic songs on your muggle player. it was fun. you hadn't felt like that in a long time.

you two had gone to two more dates before you made things official. you couldn't believe that. you couldn't believe that sirius, a boy you loved since your second year, asked you on a date and then asked you to be his girlfriend. could your life be any better?

it could but you didn't know that.

everyone was happy for you and sirius. well, your best friends, mary, lily and marlene warned you about him. after all, you knew about how he treated ladies but you knew he changed. you thought he changed.

marauders' -excluding sirius- reactions confused you. they said they were glad you two got together but at the same time the three of them looked at each other with that look of theirs that you didn't quite understand whenever you talked about sirius or when you and your boyfriend were affective in front of them.

they knew something but you had no idea.

by the time december arrived, you were completely in love with the black boy and it was quite noticeable. you stared at him in classes and he took advantages of that: he ran his hand trough his black locks or looked back at you and winked, causing your cheeks turn to dark shade of pink. during classes he also sent you notes in which were compliments written or that he's happy you're his. you we're startled when he was the first one to say the l word and not you.

and you believed that.

your gaze sadly missed the times when the other three marauders – mostly james and remus, but peter sometimes too – sent him pleading looks that quite literally screamed "stop it". your eyes, however didn't miss the times when one of the three boys whispered something to sirius and the boy's response was a sharp "no", "shut up" or "i'm not going to stop".

but stop what?

you didn't know.

and the fourteenth of february you had your first sex with sirius - first sex ever.

you could tell he was surprised when you said you were ready to be intimate with him that valentine's day, but did he complain? no.

cause this was his goal too.

but you didn't know that.

you wanted him to be your first because you would already trust him with your life if you had to.

before you two had sex, he asked you at least milion times if you were ready and told you that if you'd feel uncomfortable or in pain, you will have to tell him to stop. you loved that even though he was obviously horny, he still cared about your pleasure more than his.

that's what you loved about him the most.

the care he held for you.

the sex was amazing, more than amazing actually. you never heard more praises than you heard that night when he pounded to you slowly. you loved the way how his sweet moans and swear words slipped his mouth into your ears.

the after-care was perfect. sirius ran a bath for you that was just the perfect temperature, with bubbles that smelled like strawberries. sirius sat on a stool next to the bath and read little women to you. his voice was so beautiful and you felt so tired and relaxed that you almost fell asleep.

later, the two of you cuddled in bed, sirius was whispering how much beautiful you are and how much he loves you. you didn't know where were the other marauders that night but you were grateful they weren't there.

you fell asleep to sirius' heartbeats.

• • •

sirius did feel guilty about the whole thing.

he soon began to realize what kind of dickhead he was to do such a stupid thing like that.

what was the worst thing? that he began to fall in love with you. why was it the worst? because his plan was only to make you fall in love with him, fuck you and throw you away like a trash. but now, that he caught romantic feelings, he couldn't do that and wished you would never find out what was the whole relationship from the beggining.

a game.

just a bloody game.

• • •

it was just a few days after you lost your virginity - 22nd of february, to be spcific - when you were doing your potions homework in the library. sirius was on his afternoon class so you were alone. the room was quiet, just how you liked it.

however, the quietness was soon ruined by james potter.

"y/n, i need to talk to you," he said breathlessly. you were sure he was running the whole way from his dorm to here.

"no, james." you shook your head. "i'm not going to try to convince lily to go on a date with you."

"that's not why i'm here." he sat on the chair opposite to you.

you furrowed your eyebrows. "okay, what is it, then?"

he took a deep breath, looking nervous. that made you worried because seeing james nervous was not something you could see often.

"it was a bet, y/n. . ."

you gulped, knowing what he meant but didn't want to believe it. "w-what was a bet?"

he gave you a look and that was everything to make you tear up.

you couldn't tell that you were surprised, you expected something like this in the beginning, but you thought he change. still, you didn't want to believe that he would waste seven months of his life just for a couple of galleons.

"how much?"

james sighed. "five galleons."

"five galleons?" you humourlessly laughed. "i'm worth more than that."

joking about your problems is the best coping mechanism.

you slowly packed your things. "if he asks where i am, don't tell him. don't tell anyone." and with that, you left the library.

• • •

the black lake was your favorite place. it used to be whenever sirius was but you couldn't bear his presence from this day for obvious reasons.

words couldn't describe how naive and sad you felt at that moment. you never felt so broken. and the worst thing about it was that sirius, the boy who you thought was the love of your life, caused you this much pain.

a black dog approached you, snuggling his nose into your arm.

"go away, sirius," you spoke quietly, pushing the dog away slightly.

snuffles took a couple of steps away in confusion.

"i know about the bet," you explained and the dog lowered its ears. "i just have a few things to say before we'll never talk to each other again. first, don't turn back now, i don't thing i could bear to look at your stupid face. second, i want to let you know how much i hate you, but at the same time i would forgive you right now, right here because no matter how much you hurted me, i still love you. third, i honestly hope you burn in hell since i don't believe you would get into heaven considering the amount of people you hurt. fourth, i want you to not contact me or try to talk to me until my death. you can beg for forgiveness however you want, but i, y/n y/l/n, will never forgive you, sirius black."

You gotta do what you gotta do

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

Holy shoot what the freak that is beautiful and made me cry so hard I think my pillows now a sponge amazing 🤩

February 12th

Each of the Shelby Sibling’s grieve different, a year after, you, their sisters death. 

Warnings:death, swearing, grief.

All Gifs belong to their rightful owners

One shot 2300 words. 

It had been 365 days around the sun without you and that dreaded February 12th came with the cold breeze of spring, a time when it was difficult to celebrate new life when you would never walk the earth again.

Keep reading

This was *chefs kiss* ❤️‍🔥

Collection

“What’s all this?” Voice monotone, she only asked out of courtesy since she knew the answer.

He came home bearing gifts; it was never a good sign when he came home bearing gifts. A bouquet of beautiful red roses, pink daisies, wisteria, and a mix of her favorite wildflowers in one hand with a bottle of gold Champagne, a box of chocolates in the other. Anyone else walking in on the site would have assumed it was Valentine’s Day, but it was just mother Saturday. At least there was no velvet jewelry box this time, the biggest of mistakes always wrapped in the smallest, prettiest boxes.

“Can’t I just spoil my wife without accusation? I thought you’d be more pleased…”

“I am,” she replied through a forced smile. “The flowers are lovely,” she agreed once she smelt them, sending them off with a maid to prepare them to sit out on the lounge table for weeks until they rotted.

“I’ve got us dinner and desert.” He waved the champagne and the chocolates respectively, though little did he know dinner was an hour ago and either the whiskey heavy on his breath or the lingering sweet perfume was making her sick.

“How about tomorrow-“

“But I got us this for tonight.” He sounded adamant. She was tired, maybe if he had been on time… Popping the cork, he seemed to have made up his mind, pouring not one but two glasses. She had no choice but to accept with a smile, her ring glimmering in the light. “To love.” A bitter, sour taste was left in her mouth. “How was your day?”

“Good. Walked the gardens, had tea with the other wives in the neighborhood; it was my turn to host.”

“Ah, very nice. That must be why the house looks lovely.” It was a jab and a compliment all at once. His hand slipped around her shoulder somewhat unnaturally, and she worked hard to hold back the laugh in her throat at the thought that he truly believed the gifts made this night romantic. “How’s Mr. Williams’ wife? Is her health getting better?”

“She looks better but it’s hard to tell, she puts up a strong front.” Silence lingered. It was the same conversation day in and day out, talking about the weather and the business, and “how was your day” though neither of them really cared how it was. It was never, “you look so beautiful today” or other sweet nothings whispered into her ear that she craved, so she never gave it back, not that he wanted that. Not from her anyway.

She flinched at the sudden intimacy of him moving a loose strand of hair out of her face, a gesture that was once so warm turned unfamiliar and cold. She wanted it but she didn’t know where it was coming from. The three kids tucked away upstairs a sign that they once loved each other, but time had other plans.

“You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve got you a near pair of earrings…” he began, a shiver sent down her back as his hand moved to tuck the strand of hair behind her ear, admiring the diamonds sat there.

With a heavy sigh it was all confirmed, the flowers and champagne and chocolate and unexpected touch. “I don’t need another pair of earrings-“ she argued disheartened while he pulled out the box from his pocket. It was just another trophy to add to her collection; diamond raindrop earrings with a matching diamond necklace, a sapphire emerald cut ring surrounded by diamonds, a tennis bracelet encrusted with their children’s birthstones, amethyst necklace, string and strings of pearls from overseas. And now in the velvet box in front of her, Ruby earrings, a carat at lest, set in Art Deco gold fixtures. Of course any woman would have absolutely blushed at such a thoughtful, expensive gift, but the consistency in which this sort of thing happened eliminated any excitement.

“They’re lovely.”

“You don’t like them?”

“I didn’t say that, I said they’re quite lovely.” I’m sorry if I’m not outwardly excited, she thought, how could one be when there was another woman attached to it? Sometimes it helped to know, and other times it didn’t.

“What’s wrong then?” His bark was sharp, his bite was worse.

“Nothing.” She sighed, closing the box in her lap. “Do I know this one?”

He cocked and eyebrow, faking his confusion about her question. “Do I know this one?” She said sternly.

“No.” He answered after an elongated silence. She grunted in response, opening the box again to admire the blood red jewels.

“I don’t want these,” she attempted to hand them back but he refused, and when he did she had no choice but to throw them into the fire.

“What the fuck do you think you’re spring? Do you know how hard it was to find those? Let alone how much they cost?” Voices raising, this wasn’t a detached conversation anymore.

“You could have saved some money if you didn’t go around sleeping with other women all the time…”

“Keep your voice down, the kids are upstairs.”

“And if you were ever home you’d know they were sound asleep.” Now he was angry that she was fighting back, but that didn’t measure up to the list of reasons why she was beyond frustrated with him and his toxic antics.

“You’ve always taken them before, what do you want?”

“I don’t want material belongings! I want my heart back.”

“And what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m tired of you buying my love with gifts. Thinking I’ll just forgive you. Every. Single. Time. It’s tedious. It’s repetitive. It’s fucking toxic!” She screamed. Her voice was raw. The kids upstairs were probably up if not having nightmares about it but they were the last thing on her mind. She rushed upstairs, him in tow. He watched from the doorway of their room as she devoured everything. Ripping through her vanity draws, priceless jewels rained down, scattered across the floor. A weight lifted off her to finally get rid of her little collection piece by piece instead of adding to it. “I want to be loved again. I want you to give me my heart back instead of owning it like some fucking peice of property and stomping on it over and over again. I never stopped loving you. But you did. You did the minute you had another woman in bed. This is it. Take everything you’ve ever bought me. Pawn it, chuck it in the Cut, give it to your many mistresses, I don’t care.” Her ferocity evidenced through the scowl on her face, tone in her voice, and the way the huge stones set into metal necklace pieces hit his chest with a powerful thud.

In a tangle of limbs, his hands were on her. Not intimately, not harmful, his hands found hers and made her stop, staring into his endless bright eyes.

“Y/N, listen to yourself. You're not in your right state of mind. You don’t mean it-”

“I do.” Her voice hollow now, she swallowed a sob while looking him dead in the eye, fully defeated. “I mean every damn word. I’ve got no more love to give to you. We’re done.”