Rumors - Blog Posts
J'ai un pote qui a été pris pour être figurant sur le film en janvier. Apparemment ils ont du retard et ont donc besoin de plus de figurants.
à la bourre cette année mais .... Secret Santa Kaamelott 2024 !!!!!!!
en cette période de fin de tournage de kv2 (ou milieu de tournage ? ou tournage terminé ? qui sait à part ali ?) il faut encore qu'on fasse tout le taf nous-mêmes pour avoir du Contenu et s'apporter mutuellement un peu de joie au milieu de l'hiver PAR CONSÉQUENT re-secret santa
(veuillez excusez le raccourcissement des délais par rapport aux années précédentes, c'est parce que je suis une quiche et que je m'y suis prise tard)
comment ça marche
tu remplis ce sondage pour t’inscrire
(tu vérifies que tes mp et ton inbox sont bien ouverts stp sinon c'est galère de communiquer !)
tu reçois dans tes mp sur tumblr l’url d'une personne qui t’es attribuée au hasard parmi les inscrits
tu lui concoctes secrètement un cadeau : fanfic, fanart, fanvid, chanson, montage photo, ou quoi que ce soye sur le thème de kaamelott (pour s’inscrire il faut donc être prêt'e à créer quelque chose à offrir à quelqu’un !) + si ça te fait envie tu peux lui envoyer des petits messages anonymes gentils qui font plaisir pendant le mois de décembre, à condition de ne pas révéler ton identité
dès que tu as fini tu m’envoies le cadeau que tu as préparé via l’adresse mail que je t’aurai communiquée
le 25 décembre, tout le monde trouve un cadeau dans sa boîte mail, et on révèle qui était le secret santa de qui !
les dates
jusqu’au 5 décembre minuit : inscriptions
5 décembre : attribution des secret santas
5-23 décembre : confection des cadeaux dans tous les recoins
25 décembre : teuf et love
comment participer
juste en remplissant ce sondage avant le 5 décembre (attention après le 5 ce sera trop tard j’aurai déjà fait le tirage au sort pour répartir les santas !)
pour ma part je suis encore un peu sous l'eau donc je ne pourrai pas offrir moi-même de cadeau, je m'occupe seulement de l'orga et de la coordination et de la promo des chefs d'œuvres une fois terminés !
voilà n'hésitez pas à partager ce post pour faire de la pub, et dernière info, suite à des petits problèmes l'année dernière, je rappelle que l'inscription au secret santa vaut pour le fait de s'engager à faire un cadeau svp sinon c'est vraiment pas très sympa pour la personne qui se retrouve sans rien et on voudrait garder de la bonne ambiance, voilà bisoouuuus
(et quelques tags en vrac sous le read more)
@kabbal @pigeonneaux @sloubs @laudys83 @dagss @miung-dreamer @hermie62 @calimera62 @tiodolma @losttranslator @helyiios @saecookie @versingetorix @venecsfan @tartan-frog
Mino
“Relationship”. I’m not sure about the meaning of this drawing because as I said, I’m trying hard to don’t overthink things. And the text in background is a gossip that goes around Martra:
“Did you hear the rumor? They say Maivtre has a lover, and Odabrani knows it! Why he doesn't act? Why he doesn't complain? He can be angry. Maivtre is being unfaithful and with her knight! Is that Lewie shameless?! They were siblings (close friends); nobody expected them to have this (love) relationship! And how did Maivtre lose at this sin? In all times, Maivtre and Odabrani were the perfect relationship (couple). How does she dare to destroy this reputation?”
Isn't it funny how I could talk to you for hours but it seems no one else can? I enjoy your company. I won't let someone else's opinion of you deter my thoughts of you. Because rumors are just rumors and this friendship is true.
Rumors vs Friendship
Okay, I can’t even look on Social Media anymore and see anything but the whole debacle with Sydney and Glen. Like WTF??!? Leave them alone. Stop making stupid rumor videos about them! You don’t know what happened and I’m assuming Glen never even cheated with Sydney because I feel they would have said something about it right now and Glen would look way more guilty. I swear, people NEED TO GET A LIFE… Do I need to spell it out for you because you’re that incompetent to get such a simple concept? Everytime I see a Glen and Sydney video that’s literally like on a day old, I mentally tell them to SHUT UP already and move on. There have been many sources telling us the truth of what really happened on that set and that Gigi broke up with Glen before any of this BS. But no matter how many people come out and tell us what really happened, people still choose to believe these rumors and the trash that it is. I’m sorry, but that’s stupid and Glen and Sydney do not deserve it right now. I’m getting tired of it, others are getting tired of it, and I bet Glen and Sydney are getting tired of it too.
Charles Leclerc Masterlist
All of my Charles Leclerc fanfics in one convenient location and hopefully all the links work. If not, look for the fanfic title in the masterlist tags
Mini series
TikTok Challenges
Drive Thru Test Fiancé Girlfriend Book Boyfriend Challenge
TikTok Pranks
Say It Back Can You Get Out? Wrong Name Pay For Dinner That’s Not My Name
Charles Leclerc x Single Mom
Meet and Greet First Date
Charles Leclerc x Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux
The Happy Throuple Nobody Everybody Knows Family Meeting
One shots
Prince of Ferrari
Can You Be My Boyfriend?
A Cinderella Story
Meet the Family Part 2
Move to Miami
The “Affair”
That’s That Me Espresso
Missing Journal
Jealous
Attached at the Hip
Nerdy Glasses?
My Trainer’s Daughter
TikTok Gone Viral
Rumors
Model Behavior
Sizes
Ex Girlfriend
The 25 Year Old “Virgin”
Not Your Average WAG
Superstar
Grill The Boyfriend
World Tour
Headcanons
Emo Girlfriend
Rumors
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: There have been rumors going around that Y/N is cheating on Charles 🫢
Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, ANGST ending with fluff, very bad photoshop (I was working with what I had)
A/N: this is my first time writing angst so let’s see how I do.
Charles Leclerc DNF’d in the Canadian Grand Prix, he was so mad, he thought he could at least get some points, his engine was shit, the only thing he wanted to do was go home to his girlfriend. He decided to call her up on FaceTime. She answered after the second ring.
“Hey muñeco, what happened? I thought today was the GP, should you be racing?” Y/N asked, she was in line at the airport, getting ready to fly to Monaco.
“I’m out of the race, Mon ange.” Charles explained.
“Ay mi amor, i am so sorry to hear that. Listen, I’m at the airport right now, I’m going to Monaco, I’ll be in your apartment before you come back, okay? Then we can spend as much time together as you want.” Y/N said, knowing Charles will probably be very clingy after a terrible race.
“I’d like that. Have a safe flight, Mon coeur.” Charles said.
“Bye, mi vida.” Y/N said, sending him a kiss and Charles does the same before hanging up.
He was standing with the Ferrari team, looking at the monitors and viewing the rest of the race until Carlos also DNF’d. That just left him and Carlos talking until they were called for an interview when the race finished.
“Ugh, I can’t wait to go home.” Charles said, entering the driver’s room with Carlos. “When is our flight?”
“I don’t know, cabrón. Probably later tonight, I just want to get the fuck out of Montreal.” Carlos said.
“Same.” Charles groaned.
“Have you talked to Y/N?” Carlos asked, looking at his phone.
“Yeah, she’s getting on a flight to Monaco.” Charles said. “Why do you ask?”
“Because this is trending on Instagram.” Carlos said, showing Charles the Instagram post he found.
132,926 likes
f1WAGupdates the singer and girlfriend of Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N, has been seen with the Maxton Hall actor, Damian Hardung, at a restaurant in Manhattan. Is this why Y/N wasn’t seen at the Canadian GP? She’s too busy hooking up with Damian behind Charles’s back? Looks like she’s not as supportive as she says she is.
Carlos pulled the phone away from Charles’s face
“Let me see the comments, Carlos.” Charles demanded.
“No way, it will just drive you crazy.” Carlos said, hiding his phone.
“Fine, I’ll go to Instagram myself. Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?” Charles asked, he was pulling his phone out but Carlos took it from him and shoved it in his pants. Charles looked at him and then at Carlos’s pants. “Don’t make me search for it, Carlos.”
“I am helping you! If you read those comments, you are going to be antsy when we’re on the plane.” Carlos said and Charles rolled his eyes and left the driver’s room, making his way to Max and Lando who were talking, with Carlos following quickly behind him. “Don’t give him your phone!” Carlos yelled.
“Max, Lando, Can you check Instagram for me?” Charles asked.
“Don’t you have your own phone?” Lando asked.
“Carlos has it.” Charles said and that’s when Carlos appeared behind him. Charles had his arms spread out as if he was block Carlos from the other two drivers. “Just go to Instagram.” Charles said sharply.
“Don’t go to Instagram!” Carlos exclaimed.
“Okay, I’m on Instagram, what else?” Max asked,
“Is there a gossip post about Y/N L/N and Damian Hardung?” Charles asked.
“Are you stalking your girlfriend?” Lando asked.
“Don’t show him anything!” Carlos exclaimed, getting away from Charles and heading over to Lando.
“I found it! Charles, are you sure you want to see this?” Max asked.
“Just read me the comments.” Charles demanded.
“Don’t!” Carlos exclaimed.
“Okay… ‘i never trusted Y/N, she seemed very fake.’ Dude, I don’t know…” Max started but Charles cut him off.
“Give me that.” Charles said and he took Max’s phone to read the other comments. ‘I bet she has been cheating on him for months’ one said, ‘all those times when she wasn’t at a GP, I bet she was with him’ said another, but there was one comment that hurt him the most ‘Charles is so blind, it was clear that she never really loved him, she doesn’t even post about him’ “FUCK!” Charles screamed. He gave Max his phone back, shoving him a little in the process. “I need to go to Monaco now.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Carlos asked.
“Catch a rode with Max and Lando!” Charles yelled as we walked away, trying to find Fred.
“Why did you tell him?” Carlos asked the Dutch driver, hitting his arm in the process.
“How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to?” Max asked, playing dumb.
“I was literally shouting ‘Don’t tell him anything’ cabrón!” Carlos exclaimed.
“You know how max is, Carlos, he’ll do anything for Charles.” Lando teased Max, earning himself a slap on the arm.
Charles found Fred after asking a few Ferrari workers. “Fred, I need to go to Monaco now,”
“Is there an emergency, Charles?” Fred asked, very concerned with Charles’s state.
“Yes.” Charles said.
“Okay, I can have the plane ready in an hour, get Carlos, go to your hotel rooms and pack your things.” Fred said, already making plans with the pilot.
“Perfect, thank you!” Charles thanked him and walked back to Carlos, Max, and Lando, finding them arguing. “Carlos, let’s go, we need to pack.”
Y/N’s flight was 11 hours long and Charles’s flight is 8 hours so Charles made it to the apartment first. He unpacked his luggage and put away his clothes. He then made himself something to eat while he viewed that stupid Instagram post, reading the comments. It wasn’t until he heard Y/N’s keys that he realized he spent over an hour reading the comments. Y/N came in with her luggage and walked to the couch where Charles sat.
“Muñeco, what are you doing here, I thought your flight was tomorrow?” Y/N asked, getting closer to him to kiss his lips but he turned his head. Y/N leaned back a little. “What’s wrong, muñeco?”
“Nothing at all. I just have a question is all.” Charles stated. Y/N put her suitcases in Charles’s bedroom before she sat down on the matching loveseat.
“Sure Amor, ask away.” Y/N said.
“What were you doing in New York?” Charles asked.
“Oh well I visited my parents, they’re doing well, they asked when you were going to visit so maybe we could visit before going to Spain. I was recording my new album with Sony Records, I think it’s going to go do really well, but who knows.” Y/N said.
“And what else happened when you were in New York?” Charles asked, wanting her to tell him herself.
“Mmm, nothing really important, I met with some people from Amazon.” Y/N said. Charles had a straight face and pursed his lips in annoyance. “I’m sensing that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“Of course that’s not what I wanted to hear!” Charles raised his voices getting off the couch and walked into the kitchen with Y/N walking behind him. “I want to know why the fuck You were out with this guy.” Charles said, turning around and showing Y/N the Instagram post. “Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?”
“Damian is an actor from Maxton Hall, you know that Amazon show that I’ve been obsessed with?” Y/N asked him while she got a soda from the fridge, charles nodded his head for her to continue. “Anyway, I met up with him and some people from Amazon because they were considering him and I as leads for their new movie.” Opening the soda bottle to take a sip.
“But you don’t act.” Charles said. Y/N rolled her eyes, closed the bottle, and put it on the counter,
“But I sent in an audition tape for Culpa Tuya and i guess they liked it and wanted me as a lead.” Y/N said.
“Really, that’s all that was?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, it’s just a business dinner.” Y/N said.
“Then why is he looking at you like that? Why are you leaning against him like that?” Charles asked exasperated.
“Chemistry test, is that what you wanna hear? Why are you acting like this?” Y/N asked.
“Why am I acting like this? Let’s see, my car power unit was shit, it was my worst race of the season because I DNF’d, my top 4 streak is over, and to top it all off, my girlfriend was seen with another guy and everyone is talking about me!” Charles yelled and Y/N widened her eyes, she has never been yelled at before, her parents made sure to never fight in front of her or her siblings when she was growing up so the fact that he’s not yelling in front of her but actually yelling AT her.
“Why are you taking your anger out on me?” Y/N asked with tears in her me.
“Where are you when you’re not with me for the Grand Prix?” Charles asked. Y/N wiped her eyes.
“Charles, You’re being ridiculous.” Y/N said, trying to go to the living room but Charles blocked her. “Charles, no estoy jugando.”
“I’m not playing either, where are you?” Charles asked.
“I have a career outside of being your girlfriend you know! I’m not going to follow you around like a fucking puppy.” Y/N stated. “You understand that, right? I have interviews, photo shoots, live performances, I can’t go to every race. It never bothered you before, why is it bothering you now?”
“Why do you never post me on Instagram?” Charles asked.
“You’re insane.” Y/N stated.
“And you’re avoiding the question.” Charles said,
“What do you wanna do, Charles? You wanna track me? You wanna know my every move? You want me to post us on my Instagram and TikTok even when you said you didn’t want to risk me getting sent hate so we decided that I wouldn’t post anything?” Y/N asked rhetorically. “You’re acting as if I’d cheat on you.” Y/N jokingly said but when she saw Charles face. “No fucking way, you actually think I would cheat on you? Are you that insecure? Why the hell would you think that?”
“I’ve been reading the comments on the instagram post.” Charles said and Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Why would you believe the comments? Let me tell you this one time and one time only, I am your girlfriend, okay? If you come across a freaking piece of chisme like that, TALK TO ME, don’t come accusing me of cheating on you when I literally have your logo as a tramp stamp…” Y/N said and Charles smirked at the mention of the tramp stamp, his favorite tattoo of hers. “Focus, you horndog. I love you, and only you. If I have to move in with you to prove that, I will. Wait, I got a better idea, come here.” Y/N said, pulling Charles in front of a mirror so she could take selfie of them.
Liked by charlesleclerc and 1,240,295 others
yourusername Charles and I have been dating for a year, he is the one I love. Though I love Damian Hardung in Maxton Hall, which is like my favorite show ever, I am in a very loving relationship. Damian is just a friend, he might be my future costar if I’m lucky. Why I’m not at races is no one’s business, I was present during Imola and Monaco, I am always home to celebrate with Charles and I love him dearly.
“There, it’s posted. Now you can stop worrying about us.” Y/N said.
“I’m sorry about everything, Mon ange.” Charles said.
“It’s fine muñeco. But yell at me again and I will shave your head in your sleep.” Y/N said with a serious look on her face.
“You wouldn’t shave my head, you love my hair, what are you going to tug on when I’m going down on you?” Charles asked with a smirk on his face and leaning into kiss her and Y/N just laughs.
“You really are a horndog aren’t you.” Y/N said but kissed him anyway. “But seriously, don’t yell at me again, I will stab you in your sleep.”
“Can you please stop threatening me, Mon ange?” Charles asked and Y/N just giggled and nodded. “Are you coming to Barcelona with me?” Charles asked.
“Of course I am! Are we going to New York next weekend?” Y/N asked.
“I’m sure I can arrange that, if not we can go after Spain.” Charles said.
“That sounds perfect. I will be posting more photos of us from now on, okay? So what did we learn today, mi muñequito celoso?”
“That I should talk to you before believing a gossip post about you.” Charles said.
“Good boy. Now…how do you want to take out your frustrations on yesterday’s Grand Prix?” Y/N asked, looking at him with siren eyes.
“Bedroom.” Charles said before he kisses Y/N, lifting her, making Y/N wrap her legs around his waist, and he carried her to his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.
The End
Hope y’all liked it, I don’t really write angst, but I hope this turned out well 🤗
Last night in Chicago 💚
NEVER MIND 6
I don't know why I can't do title for this. But this is Never mind 6. Continue the other Never minds.
I loved rumors. I loved them so much thatI even told rumors about myself. When I walk along the school hallway, whispering fill that place. People whispered their friends right now and tried sneaky to wacth me walking but I felt the stares. Whispers caught to my ears with my every step I took, but I just smiled myself. People around me really didn't knew who was among them. Or what rumors was actually true. I turned myself to my locker and I opened it. Silence fell this side of the hallway. I put my books in that locker. My eyes caught an old photo of my inside of the lockerdoor. Above the photo was mirror and I looked myself into dark eyes. I sighed and closed the door. I was frightened the boy who had came behind the door. After that my reflex didn't do ant good for rumors Because I kicked him between his legs and bumped him against the lockers with my hands around his neck. I almost could here the dramatic confusion when people on the hall fell in silence and turned to look at us. The smile started to grow on my face again. Sometimes people can be just so curios. I drowned my laugh. I took my hands off around boy's neck, but I could see clearly how my nails had left beautiful neckless on him. Marks was deep but they didn't bleed. I looked at the boy and shortly smiled to him. Then I justwalked away. People can talk bullshit about me all they want, I couldn't care less anymore like I never minded talks anyway.
From google about Mirabel
Encanto
Is it true? 🙁
Soft Launches and Soft Tyres
Part 1: The Princess of the Grid
A particular kind of silence falls in a garage before a race. It’s not quiet with radios crackling and the hum of tire warmers and mechanics shouting about torque and telemetry. But it’s a kind of silence in my head, like the calm just before I let the car swallow me whole.
I live for that silence. That, and the smell of burnt rubber. I’ve never fit into any neat little box anyway—not the way people expect, especially not when I got into F1 at 19. People expected me to be the new kid, quiet and compliant. And, well… okay, they were half right.
I was quiet. Still am, mostly. I don’t talk back, I let the track speak for me. That was something Seb used to say. “You don’t need to be loud to be heard, Moni.” He was my mentor before he became everyone’s eco-uncle and left us… left me. I still miss his hugs. And Daniel, god, Daniel was like my older brother, but funnier and worse at keeping secrets. He once said I had “golden retriever energy disguised in a kitten’s body.” Which is both cute and slightly concerning, but very him.
Anyway, it’s been five years now. I’m 24, and things have changed. There’s a new wave of younger drivers, some shinier, and I’m not the “baby” anymore. But I guess I still get called the “Princess of the Grid.” Mostly by Lando. Once, Carlos said it during a press conference, and Lando won’t let him live it down.
My mother raised me, just the two of us. She worked nights at a hospital and still managed to drive me to karting sessions on weekends. It wasn’t glamorous. We didn’t have the money that most kids in motorsport had. But I had her. She never yelled, never cried in front of me. Just kept going. Quiet strength. Maybe that’s where I get it from.
My dad left when I was six. I don’t remember much about him, and the stuff I remember feels more like watching someone else’s home video. He wasn’t cruel, just... unfinished. He didn’t know how to stay, and he missed a lot of things: my first race win, my Super Licence, and my debut in Formula One. Sometimes, people ask me if we’re in touch, and I say, “No, but I’m sure he knows where to find me.” I mean, it’s not like I’m hiding.
I signed my first F1 contract at nineteen with AlphaTauri, back when it was still AlphaTauri. It was a blur—media, pressure, more cameras in a week than I’d seen in my whole life. I kept my head down. Scored points when I could. Learned how to breathe in that car-shaped pressure cooker. I was never the loud headline, but I stayed consistent. That's what mattered. The paddock doesn’t always reward consistency, but it remembers it.
I still drive for VCARB even now, and I like it here. We’re not the underdog or the top dog. We’re the kind of team that sharpens you and makes you better.
-------------------------
Part 2: The Calm Before the Media Storm
Media day always smells like too much cologne and burnt coffee.
It’s a mix of waiting around in branded teamwear and pretending not to hear the questions asked in the next booth. My PR manager, Livia, clips a mic to my collar with practiced ease, gentleness usually reserved for bomb diffusers or hairstylists.
“You good?” she asks, smoothing the VCARB jacket over my shoulder.
“Define good,” I say, giving her a slight grin. She rolls her eyes.
“Smile. Be nice. Don’t swear.”
“Always nice. Almost never swear.”
“Almost being the keyword.”
She pats my arm and walks off, already on the phone.
The first few interviews are standard fare. Strategy questions, performance reviews, tyre talk — everything I’ve answered a hundred times, just repackaged in different accents and camera angles.
Interviewer: “Monica, do you think the team’s Q3 performance in Jeddah was a turning point?”
Me: “It was a data point. A good one. But one race doesn’t define a season.”
Interviewer: “You’ve been praised for your tyre management this season—”
Me: “I just don’t fight physics. That’s all.”
They laugh. One asks if I meditate. Another wants to know what I eat before a race.
“Toast,” I say. “Always toast.”
There’s a short break after the fourth interview. I peel off the mic and flop onto a couch in the VCARB media room. Isack’s already there, drinking a Red Bull while on his phone watching one of the videos the admin made us make on Instagram.
“You’re trending,” he says, not looking up.
I groan as I close my eyes to take the smallest nap a human is possible. “Again?”
He turns the screen toward me. A photo from last week, me again, blurry, exiting a hotel lobby at midnight. Someone had zoomed in on my hand touching someone else’s arm.
“Your mysterious shadow boyfriend strikes again,” he grins. “This time, people think it’s someone from the grid.”
“Great,” I mutter. “I love when my life makes headlines. You keep laughing, Isack, but one day, you won't even be able to pee in peace without getting on headlines."
He ignores me and keeps scrolling. “Also, apparently your ‘energy’ matched Pedro Pascal’s according to this fan edit.”
I blink. “What does that mean?”
“I have no idea. But I support it,” he says with a grin, and gets off the couch when his PR manager calls him for an interview.
I watch him walk away before my phone vibrates.
Groupchat: Who made this groupchat?
Carlos: MONICA.
Lando: Ma’am, why are YOU trending and not for overtaking someone???
Alex: Girl, you okay? Did you break the internet??
lewis: Princess, did I miss something, or did you go on a date with Pedro Pascal??
Charles: WHO IS THE MAN? Alex won't tell me anything.
Carlos: Becca won't either.
Max: I will find out. I know people.
Carlos: Moni. Seriously. Who is it?
Me: Stop spanning the group chat
Lando: We are not doing such thing, answer.
Oscar: We want to know?
Max: Does Daniel know? I bet he does.
Me:……
Charles: Young lady, come back here.
---
Sebastian (privately): 1 massage - unread
I stare at Seb’s message for a second too long. Then I press the side button and lock the phone without replying. The last interview of the day is with a lifestyle network—the ones who care more about what moisturizer I use than my racing line through Sector 3.
The questions start light.
“What’s always in your travel bag?” “How do you relax between races?” “If you weren’t an F1 driver, what would you be?”
I answer them all. (Sunscreen. Sleep. Veterinarian.)
And then
“So, Monica… the internet wants to know: Are you dating someone?”
There’s a beat of silence. Not awkward. Just quiet.
“I—uh.” I blink. “I don’t usually talk about my personal—”
“We know! That’s why everyone’s curious. There have been some pictures lately—late dinners, hotel lobbies. People are saying—”
I don’t hear the rest. My throat tightens. I nod slowly, a polite smile barely glued on. Livia appears out of nowhere, like a PR magician.
“I’m so sorry,” she cuts in. “We’re running late for a strategy debrief. Tight schedule today.”
The interviewer tried to hide their disappointment, but Livia was already guiding me out of the chair with a hand on my elbow and that fixed “this is fine” smile that PR people must practice in the mirror. Once we’re out of sight, she mutters, “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. In the hallway, I check my phone again. Seb’s message is still sitting there. Still unread.
-----------
Part 3: When the Internet Breaks
[Clip: ‘The Last of Us’ Season 2 – Press Junket | Interview With Pedro Pascal]
Pedro Pascal is seated comfortably and exudes his characteristic warmth and charm.
Interviewer: "Pedro, 'The Last of Us' season 2 episode 2….what an episode it was, it delves deep into love and loss themes. Has portraying Joel influenced your perspective on personal relationships?"
Pedro: "Absolutely. Joel's journey is one of profound connection and vulnerability. It's made me reflect on the importance of having someone who grounds you and brings light into your life amidst chaos, just like Ellie did for him in a daughter-father way."
Interviewer: "That sounds personal. Are you currently experiencing such a connection in your own life, maybe with a lover?"
Pedro: "Well, let's just say I've been fortunate to find someone who brings that kind of light and grounding into my world."
The interviewer raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
Interviewer: "Care to share more?"
Pedro Laughing, shaking his head, "I think I'll leave it at that for now. I don't want trouble."
Within hours, the internet was ablaze with speculation. Social media platforms were flooded with clips of the interview, and fans dissected every word and expression.
Twitter/X – Trending Topics:
PEDRO PASCAL GF???
"Someone who brings light" [1.3M posts]
Monica VCARB edit (soft launch??)
MONICA IS DATING PEDRO
PRINCESS OF THE GRID x INTERNET’S DADDY 😭
Comments under various posts range from excitement to disbelief:
“Imagine going home to the Princess of the Grid and she makes you toast while talking about tyre deg 😭” “She was quiet but had the rizz of a thousand suns.” “Oh my god. THE fanfic is real.”
Private Chat – Daniel Ricciardo & Monica Daniel: So. The internet’s on fire. Pedro and you?
Monica: He didn’t mean to I think He was just talking. That’s how he is. He gets soft and starts talking, and the words fall out
Daniel: That’s adorable. I’m vomiting a little, but it’s adorable. So it’s real? Like, real real?
Monica: Yeah. It’s been a few months now. Met him at an awards thing. He was nice. Didn’t treat me like a headline. Didn’t ask about fame at dinner. Just asked about my favorite books. Stuff no one’s asked in years.
Daniel: You deserve that. You so deserve that. But you’re freaking out, huh.
Monica : I feel like I’m standing on a trapdoor. Like the minute I smile too wide or hold his hand in daylight it’ll open and everyone will pile on. I worked so hard to be taken seriously. Being the first woman in F1 was hell at first. You remember. People said awful stuff. Called me Seb’s “pet project,” remember that? Or the “baby with daddy issues.”
Daniel: Yeah. I remember. I also remember you outqualifying half the grid with a migraine and two hours of sleep. You’ve got scars. Doesn’t mean you hide forever.
Monica: He’s older. People will tear it apart. Say I’m looking for a dad. Say I’m broken. And with mine leaving, I never really figured out how to not let that stuff crawl under my skin. I know it’s stupid. But I’m scared. Of the headlines. Of the comments. Of being too happy and getting punished for it.
Daniel: That’s not stupid. That’s human. But you don’t have to carry it alone. Talk to Seb, Mon. He’s worried. We both are. You’ve got us. You always have us.
Monica: I haven’t opened his text.
Daniel: Mon, you know you have to talk to him at some point
I sat curled up in the corner of the hotel bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands. The room was too cold, not physically, but in that way hotel rooms are when you don’t feel like you belong in them. My phone sat in my lap like it weighed five kilos. Seb’s name had been at the top of my messages for three days. Unread. Unopened. But never ignored. I stared at the notification, thumb hovering over it like the screen might bite back. Then, finally, I tapped.
Sebastian Vettel [3 days ago]: Hey, little one. I saw the headlines. I just wanted to say, I hope it’s true. Not the rumors. The happiness. You’ve always deserved to be loved out loud, not in secret. And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for that. If people try to turn your joy into ammunition, that’s on them, not you. Call me if you want. I’m here. Always. 💛
It hit me in layers. I could hear his voice in my head as I read. His calm, that steady warmth he always had, even when the whole world was watching him. I didn’t cry. Not really. But something loosened in my chest — something I didn’t realize I’d been holding onto so tightly. Like someone had cracked open a window in my ribs and let the stale air out. I stared at the message momentarily before hitting his number and hearing the ringing sound.
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Part 4: Eyes on the Paddock
Practice day always feels like the calm before the circus. Except this morning, the circus was already rolling in. By 9 a.m., the paddock was alive, TV crews in place, PR managers buzzing like caffeinated bees, fans pressed against the barriers, phones ready. Security tried to keep a clear path, but the chaos was controlled at best. Sky Sports F1’s Rachel Brookes adjusted her earpiece and stood near the entrance gate, mic in hand, eyes trained on the team hospitality areas. She nodded to the cameraman. “Alright, we're rolling in three, two, one…”
“Good morning from the paddock,” she began, the signature warmth in her voice. “It’s Friday, it’s practice day, and we’re already seeing a few drivers arriving.”
From behind her, someone in the crowd screamed as Charles Leclerc strolled past in Ferrari red, smiling at Leo with Alexandra by his side. Moments later, George Russell appeared with Carmen beside him, both dressed like they had walked out of a campaign shoot.
Rachel turned slightly to the camera. “A few of the grid’s familiar faces are arriving with their partners today, a little off-track love before the focus shifts to race pace.”
Then the air shifted. It wasn’t loud at first. Just… aware. Phones lifted. People stood on their toes. There was a wave of murmurs, the kind that travels fast, faster than even a car down the straight. And then there she was. Monica, the grid princess, walked through the gates like she’d done a thousand times. Cool. Grounded. Calm with her usual sweet smile. Except this time, she wasn’t alone. Pedro Pascal walked beside her, their hands linked, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
Rachel blinked, then leaned toward the camera with a slightly incredulous smile. “And… Monica Cruz is walking in this morning with none other than Pedro Pascal. That… is quite the entrance.”
Click. Flash. Shutter sounds like popcorn. Monica didn’t stop walking. She didn’t pose or break stride. But she looked up briefly, smiled toward the crowd, and gave a small wave with her free hand. Pedro leaned close to her ear, clearly saying something only she could hear. She laughed, genuinely, softly, like no cameras were watching. Rachel, still recovering, added, “Well, that’ll be the shot of the weekend before the engines even start.”
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Author note: I had this idea and just had to get it down, even if it’s rough or awkward. I know it’s not perfect, and I apologize if the writing feels unpolished, but I hope the story's heart came through and that you enjoyed the concept. I’d love to keep writing and improving, especially regarding details and dialogue. Next time, I want to include more of Monica interacting with the grid and the other drivers. I hope this first part of the story feels like a good start.