Hello! My name is Emily, I'm 20-something (but who's counting), and I have been on Tumblr for way longer than I should admit. I am a writer, a passionate history lover, a dedicated full time [and only kind of delusional] George Russell enthusiast, and an avid defender of both Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri.
♡ GR63, LN4, OP81, AA23, CL16, PG10, MV33, NR6 ♡
♡ GR63 Masterlist | Main F1 Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist ♡
I DO NOT DO PART TWOS UNLESS SPECIFIED IN MY A/N.
Please do not ask for part twos unless it is actually paired with a thoughtful, polite, and genuine comment on my original. Please appreciate the original fic properly before demanding more. I am not a machine.
MY BLOG IS A 'WAG FREE ZONE'. PLEASE RESPECT THIS.
I will not be posting, reblogging, or talking about any current or past partners of the drivers, including answering asks that mention their names or show their faces.
The only exception is Lily Muni He. Don't ask questions.
Current WIPs:
The Braking Point [GR63, Single Parent Karting Fic]
Members Only [GR63, Adult Film Star AU (m/m & m/f)]
The Way It Goes 🩵 [GR63, Slice of Life Blurbs]
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for the TWIG-VERSE, have you ever talked about what their first time sleeping together/having sex was like? if not, what was it like?? how did either of them feel, how was the aftercare??
Yes, absolutely!! I went through my archive to find some posts about this for ya:
It all happens on the first race weekend she attends with him...which occurs a bit after Their First Fight. On that weekend, they share their first I Love You and their First Time Together <3
I mentioned it briefly in the first time link above, but honestly, it was magic. Like it just felt so right and so perfect and right after, it's like neither of them want to be even an arms length apart. So they just hold each other through the come down, staring into each other's eyes, fingers mapping faces and shoulders and hands in little caresses, sharing little kisses and whispered words of adoration. Nothing ever felt like that before.
And when she has to get up to go to the bathroom, he has half a heart to ask to come along because he can't bear to not have her in his arms anymore. But she comes right back, doesn't even get dressed, just joins him in bed, both of them still naked, letting skin press against skin, the closest connection.
When Monday morning comes, they can both just waste the morning away like that; snuggling in the luxurious bed and sharing little touches and whispers and kisses. Maybe they even go for a round two— and then they order room service and just have a feast in bed and talk about the weekend and the future and anything and everything 🥰
To the anon who asked about the twig first time written out in its entirety…love you for that. I think its about time. I will see where I can fit it into my schedule!
If anyone has any ideas, I’m always open to them :) i’ll try to find my previous asks about it and rb them/link them here for ease of reference
I hope tumblr doesn't nuke this post even if I tried censoring it LOL (EDIT: welp it got flagged but i tried to re-appeal with heavy censorship, i hope this is okay LOL)
If you want to see the uncensored, view here on my twt post! (You will have to log in there tho sorry...)
Uncensored Pages 02, 03, 04, 05, 06 (or view here if you dont have a twt acc)
Art Process Notes Below: (copy pasted from twt replies)
(1) i have never been this so passionate over an rpf pairing, they make me feel alive and i breathe for rustappen anyways this took like almost whole two days to finish and refine, i hope you guys enjoyed it! ive finally made a dedicated and polished comic of rustappen smut LOL
(2) it's so funny i havent done like full on smut rustappen drawing and this one is actually like the proper first like full on sexually explicit drawing of them 😭✌️ this is like porn but with feelings…whatever HAHA
(3) i havent wrote a poem like this in forever since i dropped out from college LOL idk but uh fuck it we ball haha
also i used some posing dolls for complex poses… when in doubt, pull out that doll!
4) the kissing sequence was inspired and referenced from this amazing short comic of sam & higgs kissing by @.Hamms_Hammss! 🤤(ive never played death stranding sorry..)
(5) i poured so much thought into this because i had a similar experience when i had my first jghgshhgghh and i wanted to convey that feeling of insecurity and vulnerablity but felt appreciated and loved by a partner haha (my reply to my oomf hehe)
Distance anon back! Sorry for misleading you with the beginning. Unfortunately tonight I feel more of the freaky side of twig talks
Thanks for your reply!! It suits their vibe totally. And them being paranoid about leaks make sense. Tho like you said, I can surely see our fmc teasing him with saucy texts sometimes
And for George jerking off alone, you had posted it. It's been my likes for a long time now😋
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That person is so real. I love playing around with my aloe plant when I get a sunburn (which has been a lot lately). It’s just so nice to feel, but it’s very slimy, so I can see their vision
-🪿
LOL yes I can only imagine!! From the pics I've seen online of such plants haha
Hi, I just have been thinking about twig universe and wondered how they handle distance. This may have been discussed here before and I may have missed it but are twig george and fmc into sexting? Especially during dating era because they stay away from each other frequently and for long so they must've feel needy sometimes. Do they prefer sexting/phone sex? Or do they just use their toys and imagination?
The notification for this sounded like it was such a wholesome and deep question about the intricacies of surviving long distance and then I opened it completely and it was about sexting HAHA I love it
They have definitely dabbled in all of the above over the years! (There are blurbs here and here that touches on this). As they get older/they have kids, they are a bit more busy on the weekends apart. George has racing and his work responsibilities to keep him distracted and ofc FMC has the kids. Married life (despite still being passionate for them, don't get me wrong!!) is much more stable and easy-going in that sense.
During their dating era, like you mentioned? Oh for sure. I know it took them a few long weeks to actually sleep together for the first time but after that? Once the dam was broken and now having to face the distance? Torture. Honestly had them doing anything and everything lol
I think over the phone/FaceTime would be their favourite if they do decide to reach out to each other in the moment. I think they might be a bit paranoid for sending pictures that something could get leaked...and a full 'session' of texting can be exhausting after busy days. They are no strangers to a mid-day surprise saucy text however hehe
They definitely get by plenty with their toys/hands and imagination, mostly though! Certainly the easiest especially given time zone differences and growing responsibilities and exhaustion and whatnot. Probably even tell each other about it when they get back together lol
Still thinking about TWIG reader and George both being exhausted calling each other at all hours because of the time difference. George racing when he really just wants to be home and Toto and the team can’t really get him to focus. Reader watching the race with their newborn. And of course, him rushing home to his brand new baby and still recovering reader, back together for a bit! 😍
I didn't even think about her watching the race but of course! Laurie nursing or asleep in her arms as she watches with a frown as George gets passed by a freaking Sauber into turn 1...and how fidgety and out of sorts he is in the post race interviews...eyes a little shimmery, dark circles more pronounced, his rehearsed answers filled with more 'ums' and lengthy pauses. Oh I'm hitting myself in the feels with this one, I can see him so well 🥺
But he's on the first flight home afterwards, even if that means he's home in the middle of the night, and he finds her fast asleep in their bed with the baby asleep in his basinet. And George washes his hands just so he could reach down and feel his son's little breaths and the softness of his cheeks and hair and and he just crawls in with his wife, unbothered by the fact that he just got off a 17 hour flight, just wanting to hold her. And she'd wake up to his tight embrace and his soft crying against her shoulder and she doesn't say anything, just turns around to snuggle into his chest.
SingleDad!KartingCoach!George Russell x Single Mom!OC
↳ Summary: As a single mother, Josefine is used to doing everything on her own. Leaving everything behind to chase her son's karting dreams in England, she dedicates herself wholeheartedly to pushing him through the ranks, no matter the cost...even if it takes everything from her in the process. She knows that nothing is guaranteed and trust isn't easily won, and yet she comes to learn that the biggest lessons may not be found on the track but, rather, in the form of a retired Formula 1 driver and his daughter.
Tag Navigation: *Possible spoilers ahead!!*
#💟 — Everything to do with this universe | #tbp lore — Details on the characters etc.
Series Contains: Topics ranging from societal class divides and financial struggles, family dynamics, [single] parenthood and parental sacrifice, karting rivalries and dramatic and emotional ten-year-olds, learning things the hard way in many forms. Just a lot of 'realism' <3
Season Schedule
New Chapter Every Tuesday + Friday!
ZERO
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
NINE (Extended Version)
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
FIFTEEN (George's Version)
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
Practice Sessions
Blurbs & Extras
georgerussell63 Social Media Peeks
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♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
↳ A/N The day after I wrote this chapter, IRL George visited and was a guest of honour at Silverstone Karting Track-
↳ Series Summary: As a single mother, Josefine is used to doing everything on her own. Leaving everything behind to chase her son's karting dreams in England, she dedicated herself wholeheartedly to pushing him through the ranks, no matter the cost...even if it takes everything from her in the process. She knows that nothing is guaranteed and trust isn't easily won, and yet she comes to learn that the biggest lessons may not be found on the track but, rather, in the form of a retired Formula 1 driver and his daughter.
↳ Pairings: SingleDad!KartingCoach!George Russell x Single Mom!OC
↳ Chapter Word Count: 3681
Henrik needed a miracle to win the championship that year. An honest to God miracle. The odds were not looking to be in his favour and so in the couple of weeks leading up to the final race of the season, Josefine was gently preparing him for what looked to be the inevitable.
There had still been no word from George in regards to the discussion he had with Henrik about reinstating the sponsorship and Josefine knew better than to push the issue. It was George’s decision alone to make, no matter how much Henrik pleaded with her to call him to follow up. Whatever was meant to happen would happen and they would simply have to face it. Like they always did.
Silverstone Circuit was the pinnacle of British motorsports history and upon driving through the gates, they could already feel the buzz. For nearly one hundred years, Silverstone had been home to Formula 1 and its related categories in England and it was the privilege of many to be able to race on the esteemed circuit. That day, on the edge of the property, the British National Championship would race on its karting track; just as iconic as the adjacent F1 circuit it was modeled after.
Despite the excitement thrumming through the karting paddock as Josefine and Henrik unloaded their van, there was an unmissable grey cloud above them. It was a sense of melancholy that neither could deny. While the upbeat voices around them carried hopes for next season, next year…talk of new sponsors or upgraded machinery, they were facing the grim reality that this might be their last race weekend. If Henrik overheard, he made no indication of it. Instead, he kept his head down and focused on getting set up, his fringe falling over his eyes as he bent over his kart.
He was so strong and Josefine was in awe of him daily. She knew it was good for him to learn that money wasn’t easy to come by and that hard work didn’t always pay off—that was the harsh reality of life—but as a mother, all she wanted to do was give him everything he dreamt of. After everything, she had still managed to fall short. Maybe it would have been easier to stomach if he cried or yelled or blamed her. But he didn’t. He kept his head down and he stayed focused and he still showed her that he appreciated her and loved her through it all.
They went through the routine of it all like it was any other weekend. Even if this was likely going to be their last race weekend, they still had to give their everything one last time. Josefine even insisted on funding the optional Friday Practice session, just so Henrik could make the most of every bit of opportunity he had left.
By Saturday, there was still no word from George and as much as Henrik tried to play it off like he didn’t care, it was very clear that he did. Josefine could see it all over him; the way he’d walk a little slower past the impressive purple and white Russell tent in the paddock or steal lingering glances at George and Ivy from across the grid before each session. It was a hard balance to know that they needed to respect that George needed time and patience, and also knowing that they had very little time left without that sponsorship.
But it couldn’t be all on George either. He wasn’t their sole option for funding.
And so, between heats, over lunch, in any spare moment he could find, Henrik was approaching anyone who looked like they might matter; brand representatives for tyre companies, the owner of the tool company hosting the National Championships, even well-dressed karting parents he thought might be worth the risk.
Josefine could only watch in quiet awe. For a boy who had always been so shy, he moved through the paddock with startling confidence, throwing himself into conversation after conversation like he had nothing left to lose. It wasn’t confidence, not really. She knew better than that. It was desperation, plain and simple.
On the walk back to their tent after the first heat—Henrik finishing a modest P9—he slowed near the race director’s hut, where a Silverstone official stood in conversation with a small group. Josefine barely had time to register it before he was already veering off, leaving her a few steps behind to manage the dolly alone.
Henrik clasped his hands behind his back as he approached. The group’s conversation tapered off as they noticed him, offering polite smiles and quick congratulations on his result. Henrik returned them with a practiced modesty.
Then, after a brief pause, he stepped forward and held out his clammy hand to the Silverstone official.
“It’s very nice to meet you, sir. My name is Henrik Nesheim,” he said, careful and deliberate, “I’m currently in the top five of the British National Karting Championships. I was just wondering if you might have a few minutes to talk about…potential opportunities for next season?”
The man humoured him with a handshake, “Very nice to meet you, Henrik. I was watching you out there today and you look very talented behind the wheel.”
“Thank you,” Henrik lifted onto the balls of his feet for just a moment before settling back down. Nervous energy, Josefine knew it well.
“What potential opportunities are you looking for?” the gentleman inquired.
“A sponsorship,” Henrik replied easily, “My mother has been doing everything she can to help fund my karting career but with the increased fees for the Nationals, we are in need of extra support. I can promise results with the right funding.”
The man’s question was not unkind and, honestly, expected, “Did you not already have a sponsor this year?”
It wasn’t the first time Henrik had been asked this in his desperate attempts to cold-call individuals and companies at the circuit and, much to Josefine’s reluctance, it wasn’t going to be the last. Unfortunately, when you are sponsored by a retired Formula 1 driver, people seem to take notice.
Henrik hardly flinched, replying with practiced ease, “Yes, but funding was pulled because of personal reasons and so I need to find another sponsor.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, kid. Unfortunately, SIlverstone isn’t offering any further funding opportunities right now. We will keep you in mind though.”
Before the man could turn away, Henrik jumped in again, “Can I give you my mum’s phone number in case something comes up?”
“It’s alright; the Championship would have her number on file. Best of luck, Henrik.”
And her poor boy always returned to her with his tail between his legs. Rejection after rejection and he took it in stride and would try again. She took him under her arm and kissed his head and steered them back towards their tent without a word.
They had barely returned to their tent before Henrik seemed to have a new wave of determination, saying, “I want to go talk to George again.”
Josefine’s response was easy, “We said we would give him time and space, remember?”
“Yes, and we gave him time and space and now it’s, like, too much time and space. Please, Mamma.” Henrik groaned, following her around the dolly to the toolchest as he shrugged out of his race suit to let it hang around his waist.
Josefine sighed, “You may go say hello if you really must but you may not talk about the sponsorship.”
Henrik pursed his lips and then flopped himself down onto the folding chair with a disgruntled huff. Josefine knew that the only thing keeping Henrik from going to say hello was Ivy. Although he had stopped by the Russells’ a week prior, Ivy was at school and so he hadn’t properly interacted with her since that day in August when everything fell apart. No one could blame him for being a little hesitant to step into her domain. Especially on a race weekend.
So he stayed there and helped his mother work on his kart as if he wanted to soak up every second of it.
On Sunday, Henrik’s entire focus was on the final Heat and on the final race. It felt as though any chance of securing a sponsorship was out of the question and so their priority shifted to simply enjoying what they had left. Soon it would be back to Norway and back to leisure indoor karting tracks that never felt the same.
Lining up P10 on the grid for the race, Henrik was quiet. Other kids and parents bustled around them, thrumming with excitement behind the upbeat music that was playing from the speakers at the main grandstand. To Josefine and Henrik, everything felt in slow motion.
He helped to get his kart into place and Josefine double checked it to make sure it was all in order as he zipped up his racesuit. As he did, his attention was focused past her towards the start/finish line where, in P1, sat an all too familiar lilac purple kart. George was helping Ivy get her gear on while their mechanics checked over her kart and got everything in place.
They both looked perfectly normal. Like nothing was wrong. Like they would go through the motions of just another race in just another championship and go home and sleep soundly with visions of what next season would bring. George adjusted Ivy’s braids and then she tugged on her matching purple helmet. He pushed open her visor and she nodded at something he said, words unintelligible across the distance of the entire front of the field.
Henrik looked away and pulled on his own helmet.
Josefine came around behind him and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “All set?”
“Yeah,” Henrik nodded and carefully climbed into his kart.
She crouched down beside him, like she always did, and helped him to slip his gloves on. Her hands were shaking a little, tugging them on a little too tightly, but Henrik didn’t speak to it. Not even as he watched her do it so closely, like he was trying to remember it all.
“Alright,” Josefine sighed and looked into his eyes through the open visor of his helmet, “no coaching right now. I am just ‘mum’.”
Henrik nodded.
“I am so proud of you,” she said seriously, holding his helmet between both hands to keep her looking at him, “You know what you need to do. This track treats you well. Deep breaths, stay focused, and have fun. That is all you need to do. Have fun.”
“Mamma—”
Josefine cut him off with a gentle but firm, “No. Just enjoy it.”
All he could do was nod. She closed his visor and then patted the side of his helmet three times and offered out her hand for a fist bump. He bumped her knuckles with his and as she stood up, she left a kiss to the top of his helmet.
On her way to the viewing area, Josefine stole a glance to the front row where Ivy had also climbed into her kart. Something tugged in her heart to go over there and wish her luck, but her hesitance came from not knowing if that would be the right thing to do. Not before the final race when Ivy held a Championship in her hands. The last thing Josefine wanted to do was risk jeopardizing that and giving Ivy another reason to dislike her.
So Josefine turned away and made her way to the grandstand.
She sat amongst the parents who had no care in the world, feeling as though she held a rain cloud above her head in their crowd of blue skies. There was nothing to say, really. Not that anyone would particularly pay her any mind normally and, now, she was perfectly fine with that. After the gossip scandal over her relationship with George before, now, suddenly being on their own once again, the last thing she wanted to do was entertain backhanded conversation.
But what was most surprising of all, was the polite nod that George directed her way as he passed her by on his way to his spot by the railing. Josefine barely managed a small smile in return; just something acknowledging and well-mannered. She stared at his back as he leaned against the railing overlooking the track, situated comfortably between a few other parents and spectators. He looked so effortlessly casual in his cuffed jeans and white t-shirt; sunglasses shielding his eyes from the October sunshine. Josefine missed the days when she knew her place was standing beside him.
Instead, her attention was focused on Henrik and what was set to be his last race. It had been a long journey they had shared together and it ached her heart to realize that it was coming to a close. The last few years had been some of the best and some of the most trying all in the same. But she wouldn’t trade any of it. Not when every second of struggle was worth the smile it put on his face.
That final race at Silverstone was one of Henrik’s best. His craft nearly brought Josefine to tears, watching him out there taking to the apexes with precision and making use of every single gap no matter how small. He was an artist and that rickety old kart was his brush. He never had the same opportunities provided to him as many of those other kids did, but he sure knew how to make the most out of what he did have. And she was so, so proud.
He was racing like he had nothing to lose. Racing like he knew he was about to lose everything.
Every overtake was clean and fair but pushing the limits to the maximum, lingering on the line between something dangerous. It was the type of racing that got him his sponsorship to begin with, what first caught George’s eye and had him pitching the offer. He had a talent that was unlike many and Josefine had no idea where it came from but she was desperate to cling onto it as long as they could. And they had.
Henrik finished P5 in his final race, having pushed his kart to the absolute limit to bleed the most out of what it could offer.
After having led the entire pack for every single lap, Ivy had finished first and sealed the championship; the first girl to win the British Nationals since its founding.
Josefine stood from the grandstands with many of the other parents, and applauded. Not just for Henrik, but for Ivy. For a long winded season of hard work and dedication and sacrifice. For many lessons learned.
When Josefine met Henrik down in parc ferme, he was still in his kart. With the empty karts surrounding him, he sat there alone, gloved hands still on his steering wheel, visor still down. She could see his heavy breathing as she walked slowly over. He didn’t look up even as she crouched down beside him.
“You, my boy,” Josefine spoke softly, “are inspiring.”
Henrik flicked up the visor on his helmet and stuck his hands inside, unable to hold back the small sob he had been suffocating since the last lap. It was tears of grief that he had been refusing to accept for weeks now, knowing what was coming but not wanting to accept it. Josefine felt her heart shatter, piece by piece, unable to do anything more to help him continue on his journey. She felt like she had failed him.
But this wasn’t about her. This was about him. It was always about him.
So she leaned in over the machinery of his kart and held him, uncaring about the awkward angle or the bulkiness of his helmet pressing against her shoulder. She just held him as he cried, like a mother should.
“You are brilliant,” she whispered to him, just soft enough for only him to hear in the quiet of parc ferme, “It has been an honour to watch you these last years. You have done everything you could, on and off the track, and you have still stayed my kind, genuine, wonderful boy through it all. I am a very proud coach and an even prouder mum.”
Between his tears, Henrik croaked out a small, “Takk, Mamma.”
And it was a simple thank you that carried the weight of a million.
Josefine pulled away just enough to take his helmet between her hands and she rested her forehead against it, to look into his blue eyes through the open visor. And then she whispered her love to him in their native tongue, something so special just for them, “Jeg elsker deg.”
Henrik managed to calm his tears enough to make it to the podium ceremony. They stood near the back, undetected, watching Ivy on the top step and beaming as they played God Save The King through the speakers and she mouthed along the words. George was front and centre with his phone out, recording the whole thing, his face almost permanently set in a grin. There was no question about the look of a proud parent. Well, perhaps that of Josefine who was proud in a way that felt incredibly opposite at that moment.
After the trophies were given and the cider was sprayed and the podium celebration came to an end, Ivy jumped right off the top step and into George’s arms. The local media that was present got some incredible shots of that moment and, even from their distance, it warmed Josefine’s heart. If it was anyone else other than Henrik who would win it, she was thankful it was Ivy.
Packdown was silent that evening. Josefine didn’t push Henrik to help—knowing that he would likely prefer to sit and process his emotions from the day—but he did anyway. While she closed up the tool chest, he brought their folding chairs and cooler to the van in a few trips. Despite the murmur of outside voices and noise from the rest of the paddock, their small sanctuary under their worn tent felt like a bubble. They worked well together, as always. Like a well oiled machine. Moving around each other with practiced efficiency.
Suddenly, a voice cut through their peace with a soft, “Henrik?”
Josefine glanced over her shoulder and Henrik looked up from where he had been packing his bag, to see Ivy standing at the threshold of their tent. He stood up, eyes wide, almost startled by her presence. It was certainly unexpected. A few steps behind her, just outside of the tent and almost out of view, Josefine noticed George quietly observing, allowing Ivy to have her moment.
Ivy took a half step forward and thrust out her hand towards him, “Thank you for making this season really fun on track. You’re a super good competitor.”
For a moment, Henrik just blinked at her. And then at her hand. As if he was processing if this was real. Then, he seemed to snap back to reality and he accepted her handshake with a clear of his throat and a soft, “Thank you. You too. And congratulations on the Championship.”
She smiled sweetly and tucked her hands behind her as she took a step back, “Thank you. I’ll see you next year then.”
Henrik faltered just a moment, hesitating, and then admitted calmly, “You won’t.”
Like a mirror image, Ivy’s smile also faltered, “What?”
“We’re moving back to Norway next month. We can’t afford another season.”
Trying to look busy with the tool chest, Josefine was listening closely, stealing another glance to the children, and to George, when she could.
“Oh…” Ivy just stood there, processing. A few long seconds went by before she glanced back at George outside the tent and then looked back to Henrik, “You can’t even afford it even a little?”
Henrik shrugged, “Not really.”
Ivy’s frown deepened, her words faint, “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” Henrik brushed it off with a forced smile, like it was his responsibility to not make her upset by his own misfortunes, “but it was really fun to race with you. Even when it got a little…crazy.”
Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, “Yeah…”
There was a pause between them, as if neither ten-year-old quite knew what to say next. Like neither of them particularly wanted to admit that this was likely goodbye. Henrik shifted his weight.
“Um, Ivy…” Henrik started.
Her attention snapped fully back to him, “Yeah?”
“I’m, uh…” he took a breath and said the last thing Josefine had been expecting that morning, “I’m sorry for what I said to you after the race in Whilton Mill. It was really awful of me.”
At the same moment, Josefine and George looked to each other from their distance apart, from opposing sides of their children. Expressionless and yet equally just as surprised. She hadn’t pushed Henrik to apologize to Ivy; she figured the opportunity would never have arisen and that Ivy was perfectly fine pretending they didn’t exist. But for Henrik to take the initiative? Josefine’s heart soared. She truly was the proudest mum on the grid.
Ivy—who was also just as taken aback by the unexpected apology—took a second to compose herself. Then, without a word, she shook her head as if to rid herself of the memory, “It’s okay. I’m sorry for…being awful to you, like, all the time.”
The two shared nervous little laughter. Like water under the bridge.
“I better go, but…” Ivy took a small step back, “maybe I’ll see you around again.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
It was clear that neither quite believed it but neither quite knew how to grapple with it. They were only ten; what were they supposed to do? Sometimes, things were just destined to come to an end.
George gave Josefine a final melancholy smile before turning away and following after his daughter back towards their tent.
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Waahhhh Tuesday no update 😣😭 I’ve been dying to know what happens next in the breaking point but also, Georgie won last Sunday 🤩🥳 so it all balances out lmaoooo, genuinely no rush on the incoming masterpiece but I am surprised bc I usually have to go digging to find your next update even like hours after you post (sometimes I swear the tumblr algorithm hides your content from me 😠😫)
Ahh sorry I totally forgot to queue it up! And i was hoping I’d be home by this afternoon but my work visits went wayy long 🙄🙄 I just got home now and will work to post momentarily 🤭
do you have a faceclaim for josefine or is there an actress or any celebrity you imagined as her while you were writing TBP? im very curious cause since i started reading the fic i always imagined riley keough as josefine (i have no idea why) and i wanted to know if you had someone specific in mind!!
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Hi lovely 🫧! It's been a crazy busy work day but thankfully I'm done for the day now...and wasting time in a cafe to not have to sit in rush hour traffic home lol. Hope you are well x
I usually don't have a faceclaim when writing...I create the characters in my mind totally from scratch. But, after, I do like to find an actress/celebrity that resembles the character (or who I'd cast to play them in a movie) after the fact if people are interested! I prefer people to imagine my OCs how they choose to imagine them at first hehe
I looked up Riley Keough and honestly she's similar to how I imagined Josefine! I've actually been preparing a 'formal' post to introduce everyone to Josefine/her face claim and some facts about her as a person. Perhaps I'll edit it a bit more and post that tonight so you can see who I imaged playing her ;)
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