#used cars in united kingdom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sansaorgana · 21 days

Note

Gale x reader, where she works at the 100 and gale thinks she comes from nothing and a hardwarding woman and he finds that attractive but then finds out she’s really from a rich wealthy family and he kinda feels betrayed in a sense

hello! 😊 thank you for your request, I loved it so much and it made me think of a Downton Abbey inspired scenario (just a little) 🥰 I wanted Buck and The Reader to have a happy ending no matter what, though, so I kinda lost control and wrote almost 6k words of this fic 🙈 long live the drama!!! 👑

reqests for buck and feyd are open btw 😇

Out of all the women working at the base, Buck Cleven liked (Y/N) the most. She was a local, British woman helping with the papers in the archives. Most people didn’t know a lot about (Y/N). She was a mystery and rarely talked about herself but Buck loved how eloquently she sounded and how well-read she was.

She was helping him to fill the papers for the Colonel and they quickly befriended each other. There was something about him that made her open up a little. They started to take walks in the evenings around the base and talk about their lives.

“Where are you from?” He asked her. “Somewhere around?”

“Yes,” she nodded and looked away quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Buck assured her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged her arms, visibly uneasy. “What do you want to know?”

“Your parents…?” Buck took her hand gently and she smiled, allowing him to hold her fingers like that.

“They’re both alive if that’s what you’re asking. My father is…” she was looking for the right word, “...managing some land. We are not close, though.”

“So, he’s a farmer?” Buck raised an eyebrow.

“I guess you can call him that,” she nodded shyly and bit on her lower lip.

“How do you know how to use a typewriter and all those books you’re talking about?” Buck chuckled softly.

“Oh, so farmer girls can’t be intelligent?” She asked, playfully. “I’ve been working hard to get out,” she assured him.

“I know what it’s like. But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for a woman. I admire you,” he nodded and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon her lips, taking her breath away.

She was confident, good at her job, intelligent, witty and to him she quickly became the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He would smile any time he saw her walking by and he would call her a farmer girl, to which she’d reply pilot boy. (Y/N) reminded him of his mother. The way she had come from nothing and worked hard to prove her worth, the way she was so soft-spoken, so elegant in the way she moved despite her harsh upbringing. She felt like home to him. Buck Cleven gave her heart and soul. He was already thinking of proposing to her after finishing his twenty fifth mission. He didn’t want to ask her anything of that sort too early. He didn’t want to ask her to marry him and then die. No, he had to wait.

But other things did not wait. He was a gentleman and she was a proper lady but since he could go down any day, they just allowed the heated moment to take them one of the nights in her small office next to the Colonel’s one. It didn’t feel wrong at all. It was no sin to love and be loved. Buck could already imagine them growing old together and raising their children. He would take her home with him or he would stay in the United Kingdom. For her he would.

And then, a week after giving each other a physical proof of their love, an expensive looking black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the base. Buck was there, too, talking to Harry Crosby, as they both observed an elegant driver leaving the car and looking around, visibly lost.

“Excuse me,” the man approached them. “I’m looking for Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he explained. “I do believe she happens to work here.”

“You’re looking for (Y/N)?” Harry furrowed his brows and scratched behind his head. “I’ll go for her,” he nodded and went inside the building.

Buck was left alone with the stiff and elegant driver.

“How do you know (Y/N)?” He asked him and the man blushed uncomfortably.

“I’ve been working for Lady (Y/L/N)’s family for ten years now,” the man answered.

Buck was confused. He had no idea that farmers in the United Kingdom could afford their own limousines and drivers.

“Tommy!” (Y/N) ran out of the building and the man straightened himself at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?!” She snapped at him angrily as everyone around started to watch the scene curiously. Buck had never seen her snapping at someone for no reason this way.

She would get angry when someone was lazy with filling the papers but even then her annoyance had some smooth and elegant undertone. But the way she treated the driver was signalising a different sort of dynamic between them two. He cleared his throat and looked down like a child scolded by his mother.

“Lady (Y/L/N), do forgive me… but I bring urgent news from Rosefield Hall,” the driver told her and handed her a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket. “It is about the Earl of Peterborough’s health,” he added.

(Y/N) grabbed the letter and opened it nervously. She gasped as she read it and her hands began to shake.

“I must… I must go home…” She whispered and handed the letter back to the driver before running to the building where the sleeping quarters for women were.

Buck followed her, demanding answers, as his heart was already stinging in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to know some of these things but he had to.

“What is going on, (Y/N)?” He asked as she was packing her things chaotically into a suitcase.

“My grandfather is dying, I must see him,” she explained nervously.

Her grandfather…? The only man whose health had been mentioned was some Earl of Peterborough.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Buck took a deep breath in. “But what’s going on with that driver? The Rolls-Royce? Rosefield Hall? Why is that man calling you a Lady? Who's the Earl of Peterborough?”

(Y/N) froze for a second with one of her blouses in her hands as she was about to throw it carelessly into the suitcase. She looked up into his eyes and Buck Cleven did not recognise his girl at that moment.

There was something different about her. Something cold and unreachable. Something posh. Her glance could kill and he would rather face the Luftwaffe missiles than her eyes.

“The Earl of Peterborough is my grandfather. Rosefield Hall is my home. I’m Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Rosefield Hall,” she informed him and he took a step back, furrowing his brows. “What? You’re really surprised, Major? Did you really expect a farmer girl to know Kant or quote you Charlotte Brontë? I’m rather surprised that you know them,” she pointed out.

Buck didn’t say anything at first as his mouth opened slightly and blood in his veins ran cold.

“So, you lied,” he whispered, feeling his heart shattering into a million pieces.

“No. I have never called myself a farmer girl. You’ve been calling me that,” she shrugged her arms.

“I don’t understand…” He shook his head. “Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?”

“Because I didn’t want to be treated differently,” she threw the blouse inside the suitcase angrily and went back to grabbing other things. “I didn’t want to be teased by a bunch of Americans for being a Lady. I wanted to blend in.”

That part was understandable for Buck and it was making him feel better, too, to know that she didn’t want to use her titles for getting special treatment.

“But why did you lie to me when we were alone? I wouldn’t tell anyone…” His voice shivered and he hated himself for letting her see how weak he had become for her. He hadn’t minded showing emotions in front of her before but now it suddenly started to feel too exposing and too humiliating.

“I didn’t lie because I was scared you would tell. I know you would not, Buck,” she shook her head and looked into his eyes again, attacking him with one final blow of the coldness of her gaze. “I gave you what you wanted, Cleven. You wanted me to be a determined working class little mouse that you’d offer a better life one day. And I lied because…” She hesitated as she bit on her lower lip. “Because I wanted you to like me,” she admitted casually and closed the suitcase.

Buck was petrified as he watched her. She lifted up the suitcase and that was when he hurried to her side.

“Let me help you, Lady (Y/N),” he tried to make a joke to release the tension, still too shocked to process the situation properly.

“You don’t have to call me a Lady, Buck,” she informed him. “And the suitcase is light.”

“Don’t have to?” Buck stood still as he watched her walk out the door. “Well, thank you very much for being so merciful and allowing me to ditch the title while I’m addressing you,” he clenched his jaw. She furrowed her brows at him.

“Oh, Buck, that’s exactly why I was lying, can’t you see? But I wasn’t lying about everything, I can assure you of that. It wasn’t a bored rich girl’s game. I will contact you soon, I promise,” she gave him the last, beautiful smile and walked out of the room.

Buck kept watching through the window. The people from the base were gathered around, pointing fingers at her. She approached the Colonel and explained some things to him as he nodded. He had to be the only person who knew her secret. The driver put the suitcase in the Rolls-Royce’s trunk and opened the door for her. She looked around, probably searching for Buck’s face amongst the curious crowd but he wasn’t there. So she sat inside and they drove away.

Buck didn’t know if she had tried to contact him or not like she had promised because he went down a week later.

One and a half year later he was back and everything felt so odd and out of place when he was going through his old things. One of them was a black and white picture of (Y/N). He took it in his hands and caressed it gently.

After everything he had been through in Germany, he was a different person now. He forgave her as he didn’t want to hold any resentment in his heart. And the memory of her – even if it hadn’t been the real her – had been keeping him alive on the cold and scary nights. A tiny hope to perhaps be able to see her again and explain a few things.

“You’re still thinking of her?” Rosie asked, awkwardly and Buck nodded.

“Sometimes,” he lied. It was way more often than sometimes.

“Actually, she did send you a letter,” Harry told him. “I have it in my office, unopened. It came two weeks after you had gone down. I wrote to her that you had been captured by the Germans when we found out but I never got the reply. Do you want her letter?”

“Yes,” Buck nodded. “You could send it to the camp through the Red Cross.”

“I could have but there was no guarantee you’d get it. They’d most likely lose it,” Harry told him and left the room to go to his office.

“Did she ever come back here?” Buck asked Rosie and his friend shook his head while pursing his lips.

“No, I’m sorry.”

Buck nodded, waiting in silence for Harry to be back with the letter. Thankfully, he was quick.

“Here it is,” he handed Buck the envelope and sat back on the edge of the bed.

The envelope was elegant and there was a picture of the family crest on it. Buck felt uncomfortable opening it but on the other hand, such a long time had passed that whatever was inside, was most likely no longer accurate anyway. The past couldn’t hurt him because it was unchangeable now.

Dear Gale, my pilot boy, My grandfather passed away two weeks ago. I was close with him, therefore it is a great loss for me to grieve after. I know I have promised to contact you and possibly explain everything but there is an urgent matter I have to discuss with you first. I fainted in the church during the funeral. It was not a big deal and I did not make any fuss about it but my doctor insisted on taking blood tests to make sure I was okay. Yesterday I had an appointment with him and he told me I was expecting. You can only imagine what a shock that was for me. He promised me he would not inform my father for now, until I contact you. But he is my father’s close friend and I do not trust him. You see, I was not lying when I said I was not close with my father. I know he will not be pleased with my pregnancy. I am scared. Can you please come to visit me? My parents were opposed to the idea of me working for the military so they will not allow me to leave again, especially in the time of grieving. My darling, there is not a day going by without me missing you and regretting the way I treated you. The things I said, I wish with all my heart that I could take them back. I kept lying to you for so long but please, do know, I have never lied when I said “I love you”. I do not expect anything from you – I do not even expect you to take responsibility for this child. And I know it is a complicated situation since we are from very different families and different countries but please, I need you to come here as I have to discuss this matter with you face to face. Yours, forever yours and only yours, (Y/N)

When he finished reading the letter, his hands were uncontrollably shaking. He checked the date of the letter – 20th of October 1943. It was the summer of 1945 already and he had left her with no reply all this time.

If the child had been born in the meantime, they would be one year old by now.

Buck stood up so rapidly that he got dizzy for a moment.

“What happened?” Rosie looked up, worryingly.

“I need to… I need to borrow a car,” Buck told him. “I have to go to that Rosefield Hall. Immediately,” he explained.

“But why?”

“I… I can’t… I will tell you when I’m back,” it felt difficult to say all these things out loud. He was anxious about what had happened to (Y/N) and their child and he was in a state of shock after finding out about the child in general. The way she had apologised and assured him of her love had also brought him a deep comfort and relief. He had to see her and he could only hope it wouldn’t be too late.

Harry nodded, realising that it was something important and he respected his friend’s decision not to share the details yet. He ran out of the building to talk to the Colonel about the possibility of using one of the military cars from the base.

Ten minutes later, Buck was already behind the wheel, studying the map on his lap with Rosie leaning on the car and peeking inside through the window.

“Rosefield Hall, here it is,” he found it and pointed with his finger. “About an hour away from here.”

“I can make it in 40 minutes,” Buck said.

“Man, be careful. 20 minutes won’t save you after such a long time,” Rosie furrowed his brows. He didn’t like the state his friend was in. “Listen, I’ll go with you,” he proposed. “You’re out of your mind.”

Buck tried to protest but he gave up seeing Rosie already sitting on the passenger seat. He sighed and started the engine. On their way to Rosefield Hall, he opened up to his friend and told him about everything. Rosie’s eyes were widened throughout the whole ride.

“It’s like straight out of the movies,” Rosie commented.

“Thank you very much for cinematography of this sort,” Buck shook his head.

“Man, what are you even worried about? I mean, she’s some rich lady, what could have happened?” Rosie asked.

“What if she got rid of the baby? What if she’s married now? What if she died? Or the baby died? And I missed all of this?” Buck swallowed thickly.

“None of it would be your fault,” Rosie pointed out and then he gasped at the field they were approaching. “Look! Aren’t those roses?”

“Yes, they are. It’s a rose field,” Buck nodded. “Which means the house must be nearby.”

“You call that a house?” Rosie whistled at the sight of the mansion in the distance. “It’s a fucking palace.”

Buck didn’t say anything. Seeing a place where (Y/N) had been raised made him feel uncomfortable when he compared it in his head to his home back in the USA. He felt like a beggar on the street, knocking to get the first warm meal in a week when he parked the car on the driveway with a small fountain.

“Wait in the car,” he told Rosie and jumped out of the vehicle.

He was approaching the doors when they opened on their own and a grumpy butler walked out with a surprised face.

“Excuse me, sir, are you lost?” He asked.

“Is it Rosefield Hall?” Buck asked to make sure.

“Yes, indeed it is,” the butler looked him up and down.

“I need to see (Y/N),” Buck explained nervously and the man furrowed his brow. “I mean, Lady (Y/N)...”

“Who are you, sir?” The butler remained suspicious.

“Major Gale Cleven from The 100th Bomb Group,” Buck took the cap of his uniform off and squeezed it in his hands.

“Cleven… Cleven… Oh!” The butler’s eyes widened. “Come inside, Major,” he finally invited Buck inside the mansion. “You are lucky, Major, because the Earl is in London today and only the lady of the house is present. Please, do follow me, I will inform her,” the butler nodded at Buck and led him through the beautifully decorated corridors to one of the living rooms. “Please, wait here, Major,” the butler bowed his head down and left Buck alone inside.

Buck looked around nervously. The place looked like a movie set indeed. Perhaps there was some truth to Rosie’s words. He glanced at the framed pictures on the piano and the fireplace but none of the pictures was of his (Y/N).

The doors opened again and a dignified middle aged woman walked inside as the butler announced her.

“Countess of Peterborough.”

Buck bowed his head down, not knowing what to do. She laughed softly at that and approached him to grab his arms.

“Please, tell me you’re that American Major who got my girl in trouble,” she pleaded but there was no anger in her eyes, only hope.

“I believe I am, my lady,” Buck swallowed thickly. “Where is she? Can I see her?”

The Countess smiled sadly at him and pointed at one of the sofas. They both sat there and faced each other as if they were whispering big secrets between each other.

“What took you so long?” The Countess asked with pain in her voice.

“I was a captive in Germany for over a year. I’m back in the United Kingdom for a few hours, really,” he explained nervously. He had a very bad feeling about his (Y/N). The way her mother was so sad while talking about her, the way there were no pictures of her around… “Please, tell me she married someone else,” he mumbled out and The Countess furrowed her brows. “Just don’t tell me she’s… She’s dead.”

“Not dead, no,” The Countess explained and he sighed with relief. “My husband was furious when he found out about her pregnancy. She refused to get rid of your child, she claimed that she loved you,” The Countess broke yet another sad smile and Buck’s heart started to pound in his chest. “I tried to change his mind but my husband is a… stubborn man…” She swallowed thickly and looked down, uncomfortably. “He disinherited her and threw her out. I sometimes visit her, I’m trying to keep in touch and help her financially in secret… Oh, Major, please…” She looked up again into his widened and terrified eyes as she tugged on the sleeves of his uniform. “Please, get her out of that place and help her. You have a son, a baby boy. He’s a year old now and such a beautiful child. They both deserve so much better. She’s there because she chose you, she loves you… Please, help her,” The Countess sobbed.

“Excuse me, my lady… She is… where?” Buck asked, nervously.

“Convent Home for Unmarried Mothers,” The Countess explained. “Oh, Major, it is a dreadful place! My girl is slowly dying there, it’s so painful to watch. There is absolutely no joy and fighting spirit left in her anymore.”

Buck felt a stinging pain in his heart when he remembered his (Y/N) with her red lips and a wide smile, her sparkling eyes and her neatly combed hair. He couldn’t imagine her in a place like this.

“How could you let that happen?” He asked her mother, not holding back the anger of his voice.

“It works differently for people like us,” The Countess explained. “In many ways we are still in the XIXth century,” she added. “But I’m so glad you’re here, it gives me hope… Please, tell me you are here to take the responsibility.”

“Of course,” Buck straightened himself. He was a man of honour. “Just give me the address of that convent,” he told her and she smiled through the tears and stood up to grab a piece of paper and a pen to write down the address.

“By the way,” The Countess sniffled her tears back, “when you’ll be asking for her, don’t ask for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). My husband forbade her to go there under her real surname so she had to choose a new one for herself.”

“And what is it?” Buck stood up to get the papernote from her.

“What do you think?” The Countess smiled at him softly. He had a feeling but didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself by saying it out loud so he remained silent and allowed her to answer the question on her own. “She goes by (Y/N) Cleven there,” she explained. “That’s how I knew it had to be you when the butler told me who was waiting for me downstairs. Because (Y/N) has never told me anything. She kept you as a secret in her heart. She was always a stubborn girl, a family rebel of some sort. So desperately she wanted to get out of here, to be away from her father – for which I can’t blame her, he’s a difficult man – that’s why she signed up to help in the military,” her mother explained. “I know, though, what she has told me. That there were misunderstandings between you two, some sort of argument and she regretted deeply for the way she had treated you. Please, do forgive her. She loves you so deeply, like I’ve never seen any woman of our sort to ever love a man. A rebel, as I’ve said.”

Buck’s head was spinning. He was glad for Rosie waiting inside the car because he wouldn’t be able to drive anymore. He only nodded at The Countess and hurried outside, not even waiting for the butler to open any doors for him.

He knocked upon the window and showed Rosie with his hand to get out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Rosie asked and Buck handed him the paper note with the address.

“Take me there. I can’t drive,” Buck looked down at his shaking hands. Rosie only nodded and they switched the seats.

The convent was another hour away. This time they were both sitting in the car in complete silence.

“Do you think I can just take her like that?” Buck finally asked when they were getting near. The sun was slowly setting in the sky with a beautiful orange hue.

“It’s XXth century, Buck, I’m sure she can just walk out of there any time she wants,” Rosie tried to cheer him up. “But where will you take her? Do you think the Colonel will let her stay with us at the base?”

“I will worry about that later,” Buck told him. “I want to get her out there first,” he explained and placed his hand on his chest as if this gesture would calm down his pounding heart when Rosie parked the car in front of the convent home. It looked like a scary and unpleasant place from the outside.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Rosie asked, worryingly.

“No. Wait here,” Buck nodded at him and walked out to hurry inside the building.

“Excuse me, sir, we are closed. You can come back tomorrow after nine am,” the nun sitting by the desk in the reception room told him.

“With all respect, I won’t wait until tomorrow,” Buck approached her and she looked up, scared. “I don’t want trouble,” he explained quickly. “I’m a pilot from The 100th Bomb Group in Thorpe Abbott, Norfolk,” he introduced himself and she nodded her head. “For the past year and a half I’ve been a captive in Germany,” he added and her eyes saddened. “I came back today only to find out that my child and his mother are here. Please, I want to see them.”

“Well, I think we can make an exception for you, sir,” the nun had lots of sympathy in her voice. “Let me ask the Reverend Mother,” she stood up and Buck nodded. “Please, wait here.”

So he waited, nervously squeezing his cap in his hands and looking around at the religious images on the walls. Finally, the doors opened and an elderly woman entered. She looked less nice than the previous one.

“Sister Cecila has told me your story, Major. I am willing to make an exception because of your bravery and service, sir,” she said and Buck sighed out of relief, giving her a nervous smile. “What is your name, Major?”

“Gale Cleven, sister,” he answered and she furrowed her brows.

“Ah…” She hummed to herself. “I know who you want to see then… Follow me,” she ordered and he nodded before walking out of the room after her.

She led him through a maze of cold corridors into the staircase and then upstairs to the living quarters. They were in a renovated part of the building but it was not very pleasant either. Buck felt a chill go down his spine at the sight and when he imagined (Y/N) and their son in a place like that.

“She was sent here by her father with no savings at all. Her mother sometimes sends us money for new clothes and toys but Miss (Y/N) is not interested in getting anything for herself anyway,” the nun explained. “She only cares about her son. She named him Winston.”

“It’s my middle name,” Buck told her as his heart filled with so much love for his son already at the sound of his name.

“I see,” the woman nodded her head and stopped in front of one of the doors as she searched for the right key on her keychain.

“Why is she being locked up?” Buck furrowed his brows and the nun gave him a scolding look.

“Do you think we let those harlots run around freely at night so they come back pregnant with even more mouths to feed?” She asked, accusingly.

Buck’s jaw clenched, trying very hard not to react in any way to her awful words.

She opened the door and then she pushed them open aggressively without knocking first. Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of a small and neat room that was almost not decorated at all. (Y/N) was sitting on her bed with a little boy in her arms and reading a book to him, her finger was pointing at something on one of the pages but they both got startled by the nun entering the room rapidly.

“You have a guest, Cleven,” the nun told her coldly and stepped back for Buck to walk in awkwardly.

(Y/N) gasped at the sight of him as she dropped the book down on the bed. Her little boy, unaware of anything, reached out his little hands to grab the edges of it as he giggled.

“G-Gale…” (Y/N) left the boy on the bed and ran up to Buck.

He felt tears forming in his eyes at the sight of her. She looked like a shadow of her old self. But it was still her. His (Y/N) that he had been dreaming of for all these months in Germany.

“I thought I would never see you again… I got the letter from Harry, that you were a captive. But I didn’t expect you to come back for me…” She sobbed.

“I came back this morning and have been looking for you ever since,” he put his hands on her arms to calm her down. “Here, come to me,” he pulled her to his chest to hug her and she twisted the fabric of his uniform in her fist as she hid her face in it. The nun squinted her eyes at them. “Can you leave us alone, sister?” Buck asked her.

“It is out of the question!” She protested.

“I’m taking (Y/N) and our son away from here tonight anyway. Get out,” Buck snapped and she made an offended face before walking out.

“You… You really mean that?” (Y/N) looked up and Buck caressed her wet cheeks. Her eyes were so hollow now, her lips dry and shivering. “After everything I have done to you…? You still want me?”

“I have forgotten already,” Buck smiled sadly at her. “I only remember how much I love you.”

(Y/N) sobbed once again and threw her hands around his neck.

“I will take care of you,” Buck promised and rubbed her back. He laid his eyes on his son who was sitting on his mother’s bed and playing with the book in his tiny hands but he was curiously looking up as well. “Will you introduce us?” He asked, nervously and (Y/N) took a step back and nodded, wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

“Winston, baby, come to mummy,” she picked the boy up and he whined as he dropped the book. “Look, this is your daddy,” she approached Buck again as the boy widened his eyes. She kissed her son’s temple and handed the boy to Buck.

He held his son delicately and stared back into his eyes, feeling so much love and affection filling his heart that he was sure it would burst and explode any given moment. Little boy reached his hands out and caressed the scars on his father’s face. Buck felt the fresh tears streaming down his face.

“He’s so full of kindness,” (Y/N) explained in a whisper. “Just like you.”

“Pack your things, I want you out of here as soon as possible,” Buck told her and she nodded.

He kept staring in awe at his boy and allowed his little hands to caress his face curiously, giggling occasionally. In the meantime, (Y/N) was packing an old worn-out suitcase. Buck noticed that she was mostly packing Winston’s things and not her own. It made him sad to see her in such a state but it also filled his heart with even more love for her when he realised how much she loved their boy and how much she sacrificed for him. For all of that, he would now give her everything and she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

When she packed the suitcase, she nodded at him and they both walked out of the room where the angry nun had been still standing.

“So, you’re just going to walk out like that? In the middle of the night?” She asked (Y/N).

“I’m not a prisoner here, Sister Bertha,” (Y/N) reminded her. “And it’s barely eight pm.”

“And where will you even go?” The nun followed them nervously to the staircase.

“As far away from here as I can,” (Y/N) only told her and shrugged her arms.

The nun didn’t follow them downstairs. Buck and (Y/N) left the convent after saying goodnight to Sister Cecile sitting in the reception room. At the sight of them, Rosie jumped out of the car with a wide smile.

“Rosie!” (Y/N) ran up to him and hugged him.

“(Y/N)!” He picked her up to spin her around as she dropped her suitcase. “I’m so happy to see you again, we’ve all been wondering about you!” He put her down on the ground and he laid his eyes on the little boy in Buck’s arms. “And that must be your boy?”

“His name is Winston,” Buck told him with pride and Rosie winked at the baby boy who giggled in return.

“Let’s go back now, eh?” Buck told him and Rosie nodded. He picked the suitcase up and packed it inside the trunk.

Buck and (Y/N) both took the backseats with little Winston sitting on Buck’s lap. Their pinky fingers were touching delicately on the seat.

“I have only one question,” Buck looked at her softly when the boy fell asleep in his arms.

“Yes?” She turned her head around to look at him, too.

“Why didn’t you get out of there to find a job somewhere? You can use a typewriter and you’re well-read.”

“I didn’t have savings to get out like this. I was bringing this idea up to my mother but if she gave me more money, my father would realise. He is very controlling. I didn’t want her to be exposed to his anger because of me. And I… I just gave up, to be honest. My life didn’t seem to have any prospects anyway,” she admitted sadly. “There was no future for me.”

“There is a future for you,” Buck assured her and held her hand to squeeze it lightly. “Long and bright. I will give it to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

185 notes · View notes

adisillusionedauthor · 3 months

Note

Could you do one for Toto Wolff with wife reader where the reader takes Toto's hands and rubs a hand up and down his back to comfort him during/caressing the other’s back during the race. Thanks!!! :)

Whispers of Comfort - Toto Wolff

Requested by: Anon

Masterlist<3

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

Warning: OOC Toto, fluff, small, bad English, comfort, Hass’s car breaking

Word count: 532

Another race that started with Max being first, that by itself had already made Toto stressed, but the fact that not even 20 laps into the race and Magnussen’s tyres exploded causing him to hit the walls and hit Lewis’s car, thankfully neither of them were hurt, but we needed to take Lewis’s car back in if we wanted him to finish the race. I could see Toto’s knuckles getting white from how much force he was putting in keeping his hand closed, most likely to stop himself from exploding and screaming at Lewis for something that wasn’t his fault, slowly I walk closer to him, gently resting one hand onto his back and offering the other one for him to hold, he looked at it considering his options, he could not hold my hand but he might had ended up hurting his hand from how much force he was using, so he decided to hold my hand, much more gentler than he was holding his own, but it was visible how much just holding my hand helped, to add to the comfort list I started rubbing my hand up and down his back, being always gentle with him.

Lewis and his car reached the pit stop and while the car was getting checked over by the mechanicals me and Toto insisted on Lewis getting checked by the paramedics. We didn’t want him to continue racing today if he got hurt, thankfully they cleared him, no major injuries, just a few scrapes.

The car got cleared to go back into the race, we left it up to Lewis, if he felt like he was good to drive for the remaining of the race,his answer was to basically grab his helmet and jump back into the car, and then he was back on the race, Toto was helping George get into a higher position, at this moment George had went from the 16th place up to the 10th, which was pretty good, Lewis was climbing up the positions quickly, Toto held my hand a little tighter feeling a little anxious about today, but I have a good feeling so I look at him and give his hand a comforting squeeze, to let him know i was still here for him, he smiled gently at our intertwined hands and went back into focusing on bringing those kids to the podium, with 5 laps remaining Lewis was on 5th and George was on 6th, they were helping each other climb up. We were on the edge of the seat and the rac finally ended, Lewis and George had managed to get up to the 1st and 2nd place, it was only celebration, they brought the champagne the United Kingdom flag and we started hugging each other, Toto turned to me instantly once the checkered flag waved and he hugged me so tightly he brought me off the ground, soon enough we had hugged everyone, at the podium the boys hugged and held the trophies together, it was only celebration the whole night and the next day as well, we were all still pretty happy that we won that happiness lasted us throughout the whole week.

293 notes · View notes

rabbitprayer · 29 days

Text

Killed for feeding the hungry

Source, Another Source

World Central Kitchen is devastated to confirm seven members of our team have been killed in an IDF strike in Gaza.

The WCK team was traveling in a deconflicted zone in two armored cars branded with the WCK logo and a soft skin vehicle.

Despite coordinating movements with the IDF, the convoy was hit as it was leaving the Deir al-Balah warehouse, where the team had unloaded more than 100 tons of humanitarian food aid brought to Gaza on the maritime route.

“This is not only an attack against WCK, this is an attack on humanitarian organizations showing up in the most dire of situations where food is being used as a weapon of war. This is unforgivable,” said World Central Kitchen CEO Erin Gore.

The seven killed are from Australia, Poland, United Kingdom, a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada, and Palestine.

Source

141 notes · View notes

mrswolffs-blog · 1 month

Note

Heyy!!! I was wondering can you write a one with Lewis c black reader Toto? Like Toto and reader are married and poly and they have a secret relationship with Lewis and one day Lewis gets injured in a race so she goes to check on him and they assume she’s cheating on Toto until he confesses that there all in a relationship with each other! I don’t know it’s up to you!

The fun part of being in a polyamorous relationship with two of the most popular men in the United Kingdom, is the fact that it was kept a secret from the world as we snuck around; playing hide and seek.

Today is the second to last race of the season as both of my partners prepare themselves for the hectic race ahead. The cars were checked over and both drivers were inspected as to be sure they were fit to drive out in the sun today before everyone started getting dressed and heading to their cars.

I for one always stayed by my husband's side as to not draw suspicion with Lewis; I had a bad feeling about thus race and so I kinda just sticked myself to his side, leaving my husband with George and the computers with analysis that I will never understand.

Walking along the corridors, Lewis and laced ourselves together in a tight hug as he swayed me from left to right. "Promise me you'll be careful?" I asked low but loud enough for him to hear. "I'm always careful sweetheart. I would never be careless when I have you to return to" he said softly as he kissed my forehead.

Time passed and all the drivers were now line up on the grid waiting for the green light that came sooner than I wanted. The race went on with me being extremely anxious, feeling the need to puke everything Lewis had to take a sharp turn in the narrow corners.

TOTO'S POV

Lewis had been going good for the most part, George looks to be a bit struggling and honestly this has been our reality for a while. Y/n has been jerking anxiously beside me as she had made her concern about the race earlier and I'm honestly concerned with her state.

Turning in my seat to speak to Bono, after a minute I heard shouting. Spinning around, I realised that my wife is being held back by some mechanics as she begged them to allow her go out. Swiftly running over and taking her from them, she broke down in my arms crying. "He crashed Torger, I told you we should've had the reserve driver go in today." She referred to Lewis who was just getting out of the car.

Allowing her to go out, she walked straight to the entrance where the safety car would arrive with Lewis, as I went to check on George.

LEWIS' POV

The safety car stopping at the entrance and allowing me to exit, I spotted Y/n running straight for me as she landed in my arms. Hearing her sniffles, I ran my hand over her curls instead of risking to knot my hand into her hair.

Whispering calming words into her ears, I kissed all over her face, stopping at her lips. Unbeknownst to us, camera had actually followed her 6here and the moment was spread live.

Upon returning to the garage, everyone stared as Toto engulfed us into a hug. The post race interviews came with everyone questioning what happen, and for a while I said nothing so everyone's best guess was that Y/n wad having an affair with me and Toto was allowing it.

Fans started trashing her online within seconds and Toto and I could not have that happening so we went to the last inter view together, finally responding to the question "My wife is not having an affair, the three of us are in a polygamous relationship- not that it's any of your business but I would like for y'all to stop slandering my innocent wife's name" Toto answered, stunning everyone as I just stood back and smiled at Y/n who I could see had fallen asleep on the couch at the garage's entrance. Overtime the fans came to term with it and eventually loved seeing all three of us together; there were no more problems.

#lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader

145 notes · View notes

carzme615 · 2 years

Text

Be an explorer of your life by accessing Used cars in Bahrain

The two main reasons are driving a large population to go for used cars in Bahrain. Its citizens have made Toyota Land Cruiser, a large selling vehicle in Bahrain. The shortage of computer chips has increased the struggle of car manufacturers. The young generation is getting passionate by the technology. They love to experience that passion in their day to day life.

Used 2018 KIA CERATO is available at the price of 4,495 Bahraini Dinar. it is built in 2018 and gives you mileage of 282000 km. Used HYUNDAI MINI VAN H1 2019 is available at the price of 7,795 Bahraini Dinar. Its van body style and 56000 km mileage make you explorer of your own life. Now, going to different places and admiring nature becomes an easy task. Tangibility has to be added to take your life in straight path of progress. 2022 Mercedes-Benz C-Class bearing features of automatic transmission, polar white exterior colour can be owned by paying price of 301,700 Bahraini Dinar. Used cars in Bahrain is giving feeling of value and a sense of fulfilment by riding in their own vehicle.

#old cars for sale in greece #used cars for sale in bahrain #used cars in greece for sale #used cars for sale in edinburgh #used cars in bahrain #used cars for sale in united kingdom #used cars in qatar #used cars for sale in qatar #used cars in united kingdom

3 notes · View notes

thepastisalreadywritten · 4 months

Text

By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

youtube

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

#Asiatic black bear #Ukraine #Scotland #Yampil #Borya #Save Wild #White Rock Bear Shelter #Five Sisters Zoo #Nature Help Center #Belgium #Poland #International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species #moon bear #save animals #protect wildlife #threatened species #refugee bear #private zoo #Youtube

181 notes · View notes

workersolidarity · 29 days

Text

[ 📹 Scenes from the destruction wrought by an Israeli occupation airstrike which targeted a vehicle being driven by 7 foreign aid workers belonging to the World Central Kitchen, killing all inside. Among the dead included foreign citizens of Britain, Poland, and Australia, along with a dual American and Canadian citizen. The aid organization said it had coordinated the movements of its personnel with the Israeli authorities, who knew the vehicle contained humanitarian aid workers.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🚀🚙💥 🚨

ISRAELI OCCUPATION BOMBS FOREIGN AID WORKERS, CONTINUES BOMBING ACROSS GAZA ON DAY 179 OF GENOCIDE

On the 179th day of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 7 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 71 Palestinians, mostly women and children, while another 102 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

In the latest occupation atrocity, the Zionist army bombed the vehicle of a group of Foreign aid personnel working for the World Central Kitchen (WCK), killing 7 employees, including 6 foreigners.

"World Central Kitchen is devastated to confirm seven members of our team have been killed in an IDF strike in Gaza," the organization said in a statement on its website.

According to the World Central Kitchen, despite coordinating the organization's movements with the Israeli occupation army, a convoy including two armored cars branded with the WCK logo and one soft-skin vehicle that were carrying the WCK team while it was traveling through a "deconflicted zone" was struck by an Israeli bomb, destroying at least one of the vehicles.

WCK says the team was leaving their Deir al-Balah warehouse, in the central Gaza Strip, where their teams unloaded more than 100 tons of humanitarian food aid brought to Gaza through a maritime route, when the convoy was targeted by Zionist forces.

The seven foreign aid workers killed in the Zionist strike included citizens from Australia, Poland, the United Kingdom, as well as a dual-citizen of the United States and Canada, and one Palestinian.

“I am heartbroken and appalled that we—World Central Kitchen and the world—lost beautiful lives today because of a targeted attack by the IDF. The love they had for feeding people, the determination they embodied to show that humanity rises above all, and the impact they made in countless lives will forever be remembered and cherished,” Erin Gore added.

In response to the International outcry over the atrocity, the Israeli occupation authorities said they will be “carrying out an in-depth examination at the highest levels to understand the circumstances of this tragic incident.”

The World Central Kitchen has suspended its operations in Gaza as a result of the incident.

In yet another atrocity yesterday, the Israeli occupation army bombed the Iranian consulate building in the Syrian capital of Damascus, killing several high-level Iranian officials, including 7 military advisors of Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).

In response to the strike, Iranian Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Seyyed Ali Khamenei said in an announcement issued on Tuesday that the "evil Zionist regime will regret" it's crime of assasinating Iran's military advisors in Syria.

The Iranian leader said that both Brigadier General Mohammad Reza Zahedi, a commander of the IRGC’s Quds Force, and his deputy, General Mohammed Hadi Haji Rahimi were killed in the strike, which targeted the Iranian consulate in Damascus, declaring the crime was perpetrated by the "usurping and dispicable" Zionist regime.

“The evil regime will be punished by our brave men. We will make them regret this crime and other ones, by God's will," the Iranian leader added.

As Israel's crimes spread outside the occupied Palestinian territories and the Gaza Strip, and into the wider West Asian region, the bombing inside Palestine continued unabated.

In just one example, local civil defense crews recovered the bodies of six Palestinians who were killed, including two children, along with a number of wounded civilians, following a Zionist occupation airstrike targeting the Zarub family home, located in the city of Rafah, in the south of the Gaza Strip.

In another atrocity, several Palestinians were killed and a large number wounded after occupation artillery shelling targeted a number of residential buildings in the city of Khan Yunis, also in the south of Gaza, focusing artillery fire on the eastern and central parts of the city.

Meanwhile, Zionist warplanes bombed the al-Bashir Mosque, in the city of Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, martyring a several civilians, including the death of at least one child, and wounding at least 20 others, while also dealing significant damage to neighboring residential buildings.

Similarly, Zionist fighter jets fired several missiles that slammed into two residential homes in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, while occupation artillery shelling targeted the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, along with the Sheikh Ajlin neighborhood, martyring three civilians and wounding six others.

Over the last day, as the Zionist occupation army withdrew from the Al-Shifa Medical Complex, located in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, which had been the largest and most well-equipped hospital in the entire Gaza Strip, a scene of mass destruction and carnage was revealed, with hundreds of bodies littering the hospital grounds, including some bodies discovered with handcuffed wrists, having been extra-judicially executed in cold-blood.

Among the bodies recovered from Al-Shifa were doctors and healthcare personnel, along with entire Palestinian families, which the Gaza Media Office says were just a small part of the roughly 400 citizens that were killed in two weeks of fighting near the hospital.

About another 900 Palestinians were arrested or detained by Zionist forces under suspicion of belonging to Resistance groups, while the Hospital buildings themselves were nearly completely destroyed, blown to pieces and left as scorched shells by the American bombs dropped on them by the Israeli occupation army.

As a result of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll has now exceeded 32'916 Palestinians killed, more than 25'000 of which being among women and children, while an additional 75'494 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression beginning on October 7th, 2023.

#source1

#source2

#source3

#source4

#source5

#source6

#source7

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

109 notes · View notes

ami-journal · 1 year

Text

Vehicle Engine Number Check |How to find the Engine number for a used vehicle?

Are you thinking of buying a used vehicle? Are you worried about the authenticity of the vehicle? The engine is the beating heart of every vehicle and also a crucial identifying factor that can be used to figure out if your used car is authentic or not. If your engine number doesn’t match as per the given paperwork, you have a problem. This article will teach you how to discover your vehicle's Engine Number.

Get engine number check using CarDotCheck's used car reports that are affordable and detailed. Find out information about your used car before making a purchase.

0 notes

cieloclercs · 10 months

Text

𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 | chapter one

pairings: charles leclerc x senna!oc part: 1/? warnings: google translate portuguese, angsty word count: 5.7k

SAUDADE. in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

01. what’s past is past

author’s note. chapter 1 ✅ please let me know what you guys think! all your feedback is greatly appreciated <3

read it on wattpad!

next ➜ chapter 2

17 December 2020 Aston Martin Headquarters Silverstone, United Kingdom

THE SOUND OF her car engine roaring is one of the most beautiful things in the world. That is what Noêmia Senna Borges believes. The rush of adrenaline it sends coursing through her veins just to hear it purr as she presses on the accelerator is like nothing she has ever experienced – and ever will experience again. Children often cry at loud noises, but infant Noa had delighted in the roar of her father's Formula 1 car when he took her, perched on his shoulder as he walked around the paddock, to his final races before he retired. So it isn't an overstatement to say – she was born to drive.

It's a car of emerald green, not red as she had always hoped, that flies around the legendary Silverstone track on her final lap of the day. Noa likes to think that a Ferrari would feel like home beneath her hands – like an extension of herself. The Aston Martin she brings back into the garage isn't quite there yet, though, hearing her lap times replayed through the radio, it doesn't sound a long way off. Engineers and strategists bustle all around her as she steps through the garage, pulling her balaclava over her head, and letting her now unruly curls fall down around her shoulders. A few compliment her on her drive, but most stick to appreciative smiles or nods. Noa is perfectly content with that. She's been raised to accept praise when given, but never to seek it. She drives for herself, not for validation.

Her time on the track is over for the day, so Noa stays behind in the garage to watch Sebastian's test laps. She settles in her own little corner, far enough away from the hustle and bustle of his engineering team to be at peace, but equally, close enough that she can pick up on snippets of their data feedback. With her water bottle in her hand and her balaclava drawn up to her nose to ward off the cold (though she keeps having to pull it down to take sips from the straw) Noa goes almost unnoticed. That is, until her PR manager, Raffaella Di Angelo, appears to remind her of their scheduled afternoon meeting. She assures her she won't be late, and sends the Italian woman on her way again gladly, as her focus switches back to the emerald green car hurtling around the track. Raffaella shakes her head when she leaves. She's worked with a few Formula 1 drivers in her time, but they are all the same – hooked on the need for speed.

Sebastian's lap times are only marginally better than hers. This in itself seems to give her a spurt of hope, and she leaves the garage positively beaming. He tells her afterwards that she is one of the best rookies he's ever come across – Noa knows, of course, the other name that resides on Sebastian Vettel's prestigious list, but she chooses to ignore that for the moment. Nothing, not even him, can ruin this for her.

"You know, if you wanted to, we could compare our notes sometime." He says as they come to a halt in the lobby, and she turns to look him in the eye properly, "I often find it useful just to talk everything through with someone else."

"I'll definitely take you up on that offer." Noa smiles up at him, "I've – uh – got a meeting with Raffaella right now, though. And then I'm going to see a... friend in London. Could we take a rain check?"

"Yeah, no problem." Sebastian says with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Just come find me whenever you want. My door's always open."

Noa laughs, "Ok. I'll hold you to that."

He leaves her with a wave as he speeds off into the car park, where his Suzuki GT 750 is parked (because of course he drives a motorcycle to work). She watches until he is no more than a dot on the horizon, before turning back inside.

The marketing and media team's headquarters is normally bustling with activity, but today, it seems uncharacteristically quiet. Noa figures it must be because testing for the month is coming to an end – Christmas is approaching, after all, and people have families to spend time with. Though, of course, Raffaella stays. It only seems right, even if she hasn't known her for all that long, the PR manager is the most diligent, hardworking person she's ever met. There aren't many people in Formula 1 as young as her already so high up in the ranks, but Noa understands perfectly why she is the exception. Even now, when the rest of her team have headed home for the holidays, she sits in her pristine office, sorting through her perfectly arranged files as if there is nowhere else in the world she would rather be. Noa refuses to believe that's true, but she is grateful for it anyway.

"Hey." The driver says as she pushes open the door to Raffaella's office. Her PR manager looks up, "Taking the late shift today?" she teases.

"You know I'm always on the late shift." Raffaella rolls her eyes playfully, "I like it better when it's quiet – I can actually hear myself think."

Noa laughs. She takes her seat at the desk, opposite the Italian, who takes a moment to glance over the papers in front of her once more. Then she looks up, a smile gracing her face. The gold-rimmed glasses she always wears slip down her nose slightly, but she doesn't push them back up.

"So, just to recap everything from the last few meetings." She beams, "Your public image is skyrocketing, just as we predicted. Of course, your family name does have something to do with that, but it's mostly you."

I should hope so, Noa thinks, fighting off the urge to raise an eyebrow.

Contrary to popular belief, it isn't all bad being the only woman on the grid – or at least, not for her. Of course, she knows her family name has a significant part to play in that, but she genuinely believes it's not just her status as Gabriel Borges' daughter, or Ayrton Senna's niece that has earned her such worldwide recognition as she's getting now. The female audience in Formula 1 is growing massively; more than it has ever grown before, and that audience needs a role model to look towards. Many people have named her as this role model, this heiress to the throne of growth in women's motorsport.

"You're the perfect example." Raffaella had said to her the last time they met, "You've got everything: confidence, a pretty face, the right family name, and – more importantly – bucketloads of talent. There's a reason the fans are betting on you to become F1's next wonderkid. You quite literally have everything going for you."

From a media perspective it's true – Noa is gold dust. The product of two of the sport's greats; a generational talent, fighting against the stereotypes, strongarming her way to a Formula 1 seat like it's predestined that she should sit there. It's so simple really. Every big name nowadays is looking to support the minority (for the right reasons or not still remains to be seen). Fans have been concerned about the lack of female presence in motorsports for decades, and that concern is now beginning to escalate. In a society where women are re-gaining their deserved power, it would be, frankly, nothing short of a death wish to shun one of the movement's most influential and powerful figureheads.

Noa can't help but think sometimes, despite the difficulties she's faced actually getting to this point, perhaps being the only woman on the grid might even play into her hands. No one, no matter how good she is, ever truly expects her to be able to beat these men at their own game. Therefore she has absolutely nothing to lose. And if she does well – which she fully intends to do, and more – then her legacy on the sport will be just as lasting as either her father's or her uncle's. The first female World Champion; immortalised in the history books.

Make no mistake, Noa adores her family. Her idols. Gabriel and Ayrton have both played such a huge role in getting her to where she is today, and she'll forever be grateful for that. But sometimes, all she wants is to finally step out of their great, looming shadows – perhaps cast her own for a change. Make a name for herself. Noa doesn't want to be known as Gabriel Borges' daughter or Ayrton Senna's niece for the rest of her life. She wants her own piece of Formula 1 history, that will be remembered years later, just as they are.

"I can turn you into the biggest star this sport has seen in decades." Raffaella says earnestly, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement, "All you have to do is drive like I already know you can. Let me handle the rest."

Noa grins widely. This is the beginning of a new chapter in her life; she can feel it. A chapter where she finally gets to see all her dreams — which not so long ago, she had feared were unattainable — finally accomplished. The setbacks of the past year will be nothing but a distant, unpleasant memory. All she has to do now is keep looking forward.

"We've actually received a new contract proposition from a potential sponsor." Raffaella goes on, waiting just a moment to properly let her words sink in, "It's a big one."

Noa sits up straighter. A thrill of something like electricity shoots down her spine.

"Well don't keep me waiting!" she huffs when Raffaella keeps quiet for a few seconds, dragging out the suspense too much for her liking. She's never been a patient person — least of all with something like this. The Italian woman giggles.

"Dio, I can't believe I'm even saying this." she begins. Her own excitement is building up so much now that it leaves her a little short of breath, "You're gonna lose my mind when I tell you —"

"Just say it, caralho!" Noa cuts her off shrilly. Raffaella fights off the urge to burst out laughing again.

"Ok, ok!" she concedes, holding her hands up in surrender when the driver makes half a move as if to dive across the table and shake the withheld information out of her, "Chanel wants you to be the new face of No. 5!"

Noa's jaw all but drops open.

Holy shit.

"You're joking?" she laughs. It's disbelieving, and her hands fly automatically to cover her mouth, "Me? They want me?"

"Yes, you." Raffaella chuckles.

"...But why?"

Of all the people in the world who have been offered this opportunity in the past, Noa never for one second believed she would be asked to join them. Nicole Kidman. Brad Pitt. Even Marilyn Monroe herself. What put her, a promising but unproven rookie up with the likes of them?

"Why do you think?" Raffaella scoffs, as if her simply asking the question is ridiculous, "You're the daughter and niece of two of the greatest Formula 1 drivers ever. Let's not forget, you look like a model — the perfect poster girl. That's what brands like this look for: someone who everyone wants to either be or be with. Besides that, the world is crying out for more female role models like you. Chanel is just giving the people what they want. By sponsoring you, investing in you, they're also investing in one of the biggest industries in the world, with one of the richest fanbases! It's a no-brainer!"

Noa sits dumbfounded, listening to her PR manager with an expression of half-formed joy mixed with confusion, and utter shock. She opens her mouth to say something — although what, she isn't exactly sure of — but Raffaella is speaking again before the words have chance to form on her lips.

"You don't have to make a decision about it now, so don't worry." she assures her with a gentle smile, "If you want to sign the contract, you'll have to do it in London by no later than March of next year."

It takes Noa a moment to come to her senses, but as soon as the word contract is mentioned, she is brought back to reality with a jolt. Why does she even need to think about an offer like this? It's every girl's dream, is it not? To be the face of a brand that legendary. Surely she would be stupid not the drive into London right now and sign that contract on the spot.

So then why does Raffaella suddenly look so nervous?

"The reason I'm giving you time to think about this is that — well, there's a catch." the Italian woman sighs, her furrowed eyebrows softening in sympathy, "The deal has two parts: two partners, if you will. The first being you, and the second..." she trails off, wincing, "...the second being Charles Leclerc."

And just like that, every ounce of elation that had filled Noa's body at Raffaella's initial announcement dissipates into the open air. Of course it has to be him. Despite everything, he's the one person she doesn't seem to be able to forget about. It's like the universe is trying to torture her.

"Obviously Chanel is aware of your friendship." Raffaella continues hastily, deciding to take her silence as an opportunity to get a word in edgeways before the arguing starts, "Or, former friendship, that is..."

"They clearly didn't get the memo about that part." Noa grumbles under her breath.

"You wouldn't have to see him much." the PR manager reasons, "The contracts are separate for the most part, but there are a couple of overlaps, since you're representing the same brand. Photoshoots, a few interviews — nothing too invasive, though, I'll make that clear — maybe a public appearance at a gala or two later on in the season..." she trails off again. The frequent silences are beginning to make Noa's skin crawl, for the simple fact that it gives her too much time to think about the situation; to think about him.

"Like I said, you don't have to make any decisions right now—"

"It's ok." she cuts Raffaella off quickly, a weak smile appearing on her face that has the PR manager sighing with relief, "You'll have to give me a couple of weeks to, uh...weigh up my options." she looks away, biting down on her lower lip anxiously — a bad habit from her childhood, "I know what you're thinking. I'd be mad to turn it down."

Noa knows she would be. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and she's sure that if she doesn't take it, Chanel will have plenty of other people lined up who will.

"I just need to work out a couple of things with him first."

That's the sticking point. Given the way her friendship with Charles ended (and the unpleasant fallout following it) Noa doesn't even know if she's ready to see him again without punching him in the face. She doesn't have that much restraint, but especially not around him. Though once it had been one of her favourite things about him, it's now the thing that could potentially land her a lawsuit — her emotions are always dialled up to eleven whenever Charles Leclerc is around.

Raffaella pauses, a frown slowly pinching at her skin, drawing her perfectly arched eyebrows together, "Have you not spoken to him? At all?"

Noa's face falls. Almost in an instant, she begins to backtrack.

"Sorry, I know it's a sensitive subject —"

"It's ok." the driver repeats with a humourless laugh, "I haven't spoken to him since 2018. Not for lack of trying..." she trails off with a shake of her head, not wanting to dig up old graves when she should have well and truly buried them long ago, "But I'll figure something out. I promise."

Slowly, Raffaella nods. She seems to be trying to read Noa's face for a moment, her eyes squinting from behind her glasses. All she sees is that her words are truth. A small smile graces her lips — almost proud. If only she knew, Noa doesn't have any intention of figuring it out any time soon.

They move on from the topic of Charles before it can dampen the mood anymore. She's still curious about this sudden contract offer. It's so out of the blue, Noa doesn't know quite what to make of it. She half expects the day to turn out to be one of those dreams that seem so realistic at the time, that when you wake up, you miss the fantasy world like you have actually lived it. Noa waits and waits for reality to kick in — but it never does.

"Is it not a bit of a risky move?" she asks, biting down on her lower lip once again, "I mean, I haven't even made my full debut yet. What if I turn out to be a complete failure?" half-joking, she laughs. The sound is hollow.

"Oh, come on." Raffaella scoffs, "Let's be real here. You're a Senna Borges. You couldn't be a failure even if you tried."

The words are supposed to console her — they should console her. But Noa merely feels the old yet familiar sensation of doubt, like someone's bony fingers inching up her spine. She banishes it just as quickly. It's not the time to re-open that wound.

Soon enough, her hours at the factory are up. As it turns out, Raffaella is even more of a workaholic than she'd first thought, merely brushing away her offers of a lift back to her hotel when she laughed about how her old Kia Picanto is stuck in the garage for repairs, so she'll have to travel back by taxi — if she can even get one all the way out here. But no matter how much Noa insists, Raffaella's answer is always the same.

She leaves the stubborn Italian still working in her office with a disbelieving shake of her head, already making a mental note to get her to let loose a little bit when the season starts — she'll have Raffaella partying like a Brazilian before the end of the year, she swears it. Besides, there's really no better environment to do it in than at a Formula 1 after party; with the pick of the best clubs, the strongest alcohol, and the most glamorous company. Never mind Raffaella, Noa can't wait to get back to her old party lifestyle. God knows, she needs a pick-me-up after the year she's had.

The drive into London doesn't take too long; no more than an hour and a half, and her brand new Aston Martin DB11 makes light work of the journey. She types the address of the café where they arranged to meet into the car's built-in sat nav. It's low profile, out of the centre of London where the only people they're likely to bump into will most likely not even bat an eyelid at their presence. Noa is glad of that.

She climbs out of her car, locking it behind her, when the little café finally comes into view. There are a few people inside she can see, but no sign of him yet — she assumes he must be sat somewhere out of her eye-line, as he texted her not even a few minutes ago to let her know he was inside. The bell at the top of the door jingles as she pushes it open, smiling at the woman at the counter who greets her. Noa's eyes wander briefly around the room. It takes her a few moments to spot him, sat placidly in a booth in the corner of the room, but when she does, her face lights up.

As if he can sense her eyes on him, Arthur Leclerc is looking her way in the next instant. He shoots up from his seat, striding over to meet her halfway. He looks nervous, Noa notices. His mouth opens and closes as if he's searching within himself for something to say, but can't quite find the words.

In truth, Arthur is nervous. This is the first time he's seen his best friend, his sister in over two years. Sure, they've kept in touch a little, sending messages here and there for birthdays and family holidays, but it isn't the same. He misses the days that Noa and her family would be round at his house between every race, and the summer breaks they would spend lounging by the beach in Rio de Janeiro. Though they're long gone now, they live in his memory as clearly as if they happened yesterday. Arthur knows, of course, the reason why they can never happen again — thanks to his idiot of a brother — but that never stops him from wishing he could go back in time and stop everything from playing out in the way that it has. Charles often forgets, whenever Noa is brought up in conversation, that the rest of his family loved her too. He isn't the only one who lost his best friend.

Despite the overwhelming urge Arthur has to both cry and apologise profusely at the same time when he sees her walk towards him, he ends up not having to do either of those things — Noa makes the decision for him, as she jumps into his arms without hesitation. It feels so natural to rest his head on her shoulder, as she presses a tender kiss to the side of his head. It's just like how things used to be.

"I missed you, 'Thur." she whispers.

Arthur echoes the words back to her. He can't help but hold on that little bit tighter, desperate to savour this moment for as long as he can. After all, there's no guarantee that, after everything, they will be able to do this again once the season starts.

The other café-goers are beginning to stare, so they soon take their seats opposite each other in the booth. There's no time to talk further, as a waiter soon wanders over to take their orders. It comes as a surprise to Noa that Arthur's coffee order hasn't changed, even after two years — a nutella mocha with chocolate flakes sprinkled on top. Pretty much the sweetest coffee he ever could have picked. She can't help but tease him about his infamous sweet tooth, which she remembers got him into trouble frequently when they were younger. Arthur rolls his eyes fondly, before she orders a simple black coffee.

He starts off the conversation nervously again. It's been so long since they last properly talked in person, and he knows she's changed a lot in those two years. Even if he didn't know all the reasons why, he would have been able to tell anyway. Something in Noa's eyes has changed dramatically. They're duller than Arthur remembers — that bright, mischievous spark has faded. He's familiar with it, of course, because he watched the same thing happen to his own brother's eyes after their father's death; but it's so drastic in Noa. She had always been able to light up a room with her eyes and smile, almost like she was the sun. Now it's as if someone has turned down a dimmer on her glow. She's just a shadow of what she used to be, and that worries Arthur.

"I'm good, everyone's good." she says in reply to his question: How are you and your family? It feels too formal, but it's all he can think to say. Besides, the words that come out of Noa's mouth are a lie, and he knows it, "Pai's still fixing up those old cars — remember the garage he opened that one summer? Yeah that's still going strong."

But as much as Arthur wants to call her out, to ask her how she's really feeling, he can't bring himself to. So he merely lets her talk.

"We got a puppy for mãe's birthday to keep her company at home when we're away." Noa continues with a small smile, "A German Shepherd called Paco. He's adorable."

She shows him a picture on her phone, and they both spend a few minutes cooing over videos of the tiny puppy tripping over things on his still slightly wobbly legs. Noa makes some throwaway comment about taking him to meet Paco, but Arthur doesn't hold her to the words. He knows how unlikely she is to stick to them.

"Oh! Did I tell you Luiz has got a girlfriend now?" Noa says with a sudden gasp. She knew there was something she needed to tell him, but for someone reason, the memory had completely escaped her until now. Arthur's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and he slaps a hand over his mouth dramatically.

"You're joking! No way he beat me to it." the Monégasque says with a small, defeated sigh, making Noa giggle loudly. It almost takes Arthur off guard — he hasn't heard her laugh in so long.

"It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you." she muses, shaking her head in disbelief, "She's really nice, as well — his girlfriend. Her name's Eloísa. She's a painter."

Noa met her little brother Luiz's girlfriend in the summer, about a month after they first started dating. At first, she'd thought they might be moving a bit quick, considering this was their first proper relationship for the both of them, but as soon as she caught sight of Eloísa dos Santos Alves, Noa somehow knew she was perfect for her brother. And sure enough, almost six months later, they're still going strong.

Eloísa is the chalk to Luiz's cheese, in the best way possible. She's the only person Noa has ever met who can balance out his excitable, erratic nature, with her calm, soothing presence and soft voice. Equally, Luiz helps to bring her out of her shell a little, making her feel more comfortable being outspoken in front of unfamiliar people in a way she never would be otherwise. Noa has watched them communicate with no more than looks in their eyes across the dining room table. The level of trust they've managed to build in their relationship already is like nothing she's ever seen, except for in her parents. Sometimes, Noa quietly wonders to herself if she will ever experience something like that — but she never lets her mind linger on it for too long. She'll only end up upsetting herself.

“Tell him the next time we see each other he’s got to give up his secrets.” Arthur says, only half-joking, “There’s no way he’s managed to pull this girl without some level of coercion, right?”

Noa snorts in a distinctly unrefined manner at that, earning her more than a few strange looks.

“Aww, I’m sure you’ll find a girl stupid enough to put up with you at some point, ‘Thur.” she tells him in a voice of mock-sympathy, reaching forwards to pinch his cheek. He slaps her hand away.

“Or I’ll be single forever.” He retorts glumly. Noa can’t help but shake her head at his dramatics. It’s something in the Leclerc genes, she thinks.

“Well, then we can both be single forever together.” she offers brightly, a smile lighting up her face, but once again not quite reaching his eyes. Arthur tilts his head to one side curiously.

“So no boyfriend?” he asks.

Noa’s cheeks turn ever so slightly pink, “That’s a conversation for another time.” she mutters. For the moment, Arthur lets it slide. She’s right, they have more important things to talk about, and he thinks that now is as good a time as any to broach the topic he’s been trying to avoid this whole time.

Though, surprisingly, Noa beats him to it.

“There’s actually something else I need to tell you.” she sighs quietly, internally readying herself for a difficult conversation. Arthur’s ears almost prick up, sensing the newfound seriousness in her voice, and sits up straighter in his seat, “It involves Charles, so I thought you should know.”

He doesn’t miss the way Noa winces at the mere mention of his name. It’s the saddest thing of all, he thinks. Once, not so long ago, he’d watched her face radiate happiness and adoration whenever Charles was brought up in conversation. Now it’s as if just thinking about it him pains her. Though intrigued by this surprise announcement, Arthur can’t help the terror that runs up his spine as he waits with bated breath for her to keep talking. He’s reminded awfully of their last conversation, where Noa could barely even string a sentence together between her sobs of pure rage. Incidentally, that was the last time either she or Charles spoke of each other to him. It’s been radio silence ever since.

“I’ve been offered a sponsorship deal to become the new face of Chanel No.5.” Noa blurts out suddenly, all in one breath. Arthur freezes for a split second. His brain seems to lag behind as it tries to process the words that have just come out of her mouth. Now, he may not know a lot about fashion or brands, but he does know Chanel, and he does have a rough idea of the kind of celebrities who have represented them before. It takes him a moment to shake himself out of his stupor, but as soon as he does, pure joy fills his body and creeps onto his face in the form of a smile so wide it makes his cheeks ache.

“Noa! Merde, that’s incredible!” he cries. The briefest of smiles passes across her face, but it does not last nearly as long as he would have thought, and its soon replaced by anxiety. Arthur’s own grin begins to fall off his face, “Why am I sensing there’s a but in here somewhere…”

The corners of Noa’s mouth twitch up ruefully, “Charles has been offered the same contract.” She explains, “Which means that we'll have to — well, we'll be doing a lot of promotional stuff together...photoshoots and interviews, that kind of thing."

Arthur winces.

“So you see why I have a bit of a problem?” Noa laughs humourlessly, “This is…an incredible opportunity, but – I don’t know if I can do it with him there. Not yet, anyway.” She sighs wearily, running a hand through her unruly curls. Her balaclava has knotted it even more than usual, and her fingers snag more than a few tangles before they can brush through the ends, “And that’s not even considering how he’s going to react to all this.” her teeth sink into her lower lip, hard enough that she knows she’s in danger of drawing blood, “Has he said anything?” she asks, her voice filled with anxiety.

“No.” Arthur shakes his head slowly, “He doesn’t really tell us much now, to be honest. But Noa…” he trails off with a quiet sigh, pausing for just a moment to contemplate his next words, “…Surely it’s not worth giving this up just because of a feud.”

For a split second, she feels annoyance flare up in her chest. It’s a flash of white hot flame running from the base of her spine upwards, lingering over her heart. But just as soon as she feels it, she pushes the sensation down. Arthur means well, she knows that – and if she’s being honest, he’s right.

“I know, I know.” She concedes, “It still hurts, though. I don’t –“ Noa’s voice catches in the lump forming in her throat. She bites back her emotions quickly, sadness and grief quickly replaced by that all-too-familiar rage. She hates that it still affects her so much – that she still regrets every single word spoken that night. Noa wishes, more than anything on earth, that she could simply forget it ever happened; forget him. “– I don’t know if I’m ready to see him again, to be honest.”

“Not to sound harsh,” Arthur says, his eyebrows raising up towards his hairline, “But you’re gonna have to be ready pretty soon. Once the season starts, you won’t really have much of a choice in the matter.” he murmurs anxiously. Noa watches his eyes slip out of focus slightly, as he seems to be consumed in his thoughts. She nods once again, knowing he’s right. Then, he seems to come to life again, sitting bolt upright in his seat so quickly she almost jumps back in shock, “And, if you think about it, maybe this could be a good thing!” he grins so widely and brightly at the prospect, she can’t bring herself to cut him off, “Maybe this will help you both start to make amends for what happened. You could be friends again!”

Noa lets out a shaky breath. No matter how hard she tries to smile back at him, to match his seemingly boundless optimism, she simply can’t do it. It’s not as if she hasn’t tried – for the first six months of the year, she spent hours sat staring at her phone, waiting, hoping that Charles might call. Despite everything, despite all the hurtful words they both said that night, Noa always had faith that he would come through. For six months, she fully believed that she would get her best friend back. She believed he would reach out to her, because if he didn’t then, in the time she needed him most, then she figured he never would.

That’s why Noa has so little faith now. Charles never contacted her. Even when she called him, even when she texted, there was never any reply. He abandoned her. She’d been there for him when he needed her the most, but he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone when their roles were reversed. So Arthur may be able to say the sun hasn’t set on their friendship; he may be able to hope that they could patch things up, go back to the way things used to be – but Noa isn’t stupid. She won’t get her hopes up again; she simply can’t. If Charles lets her down a second time, she doesn’t think she’ll survive it.

taglist: @harrysdimple05 @ricciardosheart @azxulaa @dakotali

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just leave a comment on this post!

288 notes · View notes