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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↳ A/N It's hard to believe the last chapter is upon us! It was hard to decide exactly how to end this story but I wanted each character to have an ending that felt 'right' for their development throughout the plot and felt realistic. I hope you all have enjoyed this journey no matter how angsty! Thank you for being here x
↳ 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: 3139
Josefine watched from the doorway as Henrik folded up his Formula 1 posters in silence.
His suitcase lay open on the bed, a creased, well-loved picture of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri already tucked inside—only one eye each still visible where the paper bent. Beneath them, the striking red of Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari race suit peeked through.
With a quiet sigh, Henrik tossed the last of his posters onto the growing pile. The confident grin of a twenty-something-year-old George stared back at him from above the crease.
The rest of his room was already packed up; his whole life able to fit in a trio of boxes. Josefine had wanted to wait until after the school year was over to move him back home but with no solid reason as to why they would need to stay, their Visa was in jeopardy. So, by the middle of October, they were already mostly packed up, flights booked, and Josefine had already called her parents to make sure they would have a place to stay when they landed.
Yet she still worried. She worried if they’d be okay back up North, she worried that Henrik wouldn’t be as fluent in Norwegian anymore after studying at an English school for his formative years, she worried that all of this had been the wrong decision to make all those years ago. Henrik was perfectly calm and perfectly quiet and she worried for the both of them.
It felt like they were packing up one life to go live another one. One that was written for them rather than the one they had been working so hard to build.
Having given themselves a week after the final race of the Championship to ease out of the routine and to arrange their move, they had spent the following week packing. It was coming down to the final items now as the flight date approached; only really the necessities left and for the final few responsibilities to be tied up. Henrik had to be signed out of school…they had to declare their departure date to the government…they had to turn in their apartment key to the landlord.
Their biggest hurdle, however, was upon them.
In the living room, Henrik’s karting equipment was laid out across the floor; tools, gloves, boots, spare tires and parts, and everything in between. They stood over it like it was a crime scene. His helmet and his racesuit were already packed; undeniably staying with them to be neatly put into a storage box of dust-ridden memories. The rest was to be decided.
“We should keep most of it,” Josefine said gently.
“Why?” Henrik replied flatly. Not unkind, simply asking. Matter of fact. Logical.
“Well…what if you need it again?”
“Mamma,” Henrik said, almost as if it were his turn to parent her, “I won’t need it again. We should sell it.”
Josefine set her hands on her hips and nibbled at her bottom lip to keep herself from choking up. Their cramped living room floor was scattered with long hours of work, dozens of memories, and the essence of her son’s childhood dream. It ached in her chest to even think about getting rid of any of it. They held no need for it anymore, that was true. But it didn’t make it any easier.
“Keep my gloves and boots,” Henrik compromised in a mumble as he bent down to pick them up, “Sell everything else.”
Josefine turned after him as he retreated to his room to pack away his saved items, “Are you sure?”
Henrik called back without sparing another glance, “Yeah. Some other kid might need it.”
Scrubbing her hands over her face in some failed attempt to keep from crying, Josefine turned back to the spread of equipment across the floor. With a sigh, she set her hands on her hips and looked for just a moment to admire each piece of second-hand equipment that she had worked so hard to afford for him over the years. The helplessness was a hole in her chest.
The knock at the door took her by surprise.
“I got it!” Henrik called from the hallway.
Josefine went to join him to see who had appeared at their doorstep unannounced, staying just a pace or two behind her son as he unlatched the lock and yanked open the door. None other than George Russell was standing there.
For a few long seconds, all three of them were perfectly silent. Josefine and Henrik, taken by surprise, were trying to come up with a greeting for the last person on Earth they expected to come by. George, on the other hand, honestly seemed just as surprised. As if this was the last place he expected to turn up to that afternoon. Right away, the air in the cramped foyer felt incredibly dense. In the apartment hallway, a fluorescent bulb flickered.
George broke the silence first with an awkward, “Hey, sorry for just…showing up.”
“That is…uh,” Josefine pressed her hand to her face as if she were manually translating what she wanted to say, as if the surprise of him stunned the English out of her, “It is okay. Can we help you?”
“Yeah, um…I was hoping we could talk if you have a few minutes.”
Henrik stepped aside to let George come in before asking, “Where’s Ivy?”
Toeing off his shoes, George replied, “At home. With my parents.”
“Oh,” Henrik frowned.
“I would have brought her but this isn’t a chat for her to be a part of.”
Then, his eyes were drawn to the stacks of cardboard boxes in the narrow hallway, the half-packed open bins on the kitchen table, and, of course, the spread of karting equipment across the living room. Josefine wanted to say a million things but nothing felt right. Instead, she stood there dumbly, with her arms folded across her chest and her bottom lip between her teeth. Things had eased since their falling out in the summer but it hadn’t settled completely and Josefine could still feel the unresolved tension simmering between them. Not to mention the undisclosed reason for George’s arrival. A chat that Ivy couldn’t be a part of? It sounded serious.
In a subtle way to try and ease the tension that came with his surprise visit, George asked, “Packing already?”
“Yes, our flight is booked for the 30th,” Josefine explained simply.
“Wow,” George stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t say anything else for a beat.
The three of them just stood there in the middle of the apartment in their tortured silence. Henrik glanced between the two adults expectantly. Neither were making eye contact, staring at the half-packed boxes scattered throughout the living room, buying time, and Josefine knew they looked a little ridiculous.
So she took a breath and turned to him, “So, this chat?”
“Right,” George cleared his throat and met her gaze, “I wanted to discuss your, uh, situation. The…situation.”
Henrik looked between them again, “What situation?”
Josefine pet a hand over his head and shooed him off with a gentle, “Henrik, can you go finish packing your things in your room for a minute?”
Knowing better than to argue—as much as he might have wanted to know what was going on—Henrik excused himself to his bedroom and nudged the door shut behind him. He left it open just a crack.
Josefine gestured George into the kitchen to try and earn them some more space; as much as she could in the tiny apartment. Without asking, she turned the kettle on and fetched two mugs from one of the open boxes on the kitchen counter. George lingered across the room.
“I know things have been rocky for a while now,” George started, his voice low to keep from Henrik overhearing if they could manage it, “and I just want to thank you for being understanding about it all.”
Josefine turned to him like he had just uttered the most ridiculous words, “Thank me? You do not need to thank me. I ruined your life…Ivy’s…I…”
Her words cut off as the guilt overcame her again, clawing like razors in the back of her throat. It was so easy to go back to that August afternoon outside the pit tent when Henrik exposed the secret that she had been trusted with; the look on Ivy’s face…the look on George’s. It was betrayal that she couldn’t forget.
“I broke your trust. I do not blame you for not wanting to forgive me and not wanting to take us back so easily.”
“You didn’t ruin our lives,” George sighed, “I just…honestly, despite the hurt that it caused, it showed me that maybe keeping that secret from Ivy wasn’t as good of a decision as I thought it was. I certainly hate the way that it came out, but it needed to.”
“Do not say that. Do not make less of the situation.” Josefine said slowly, gently.
“I’m not. And as much as I’d like to, I’m not saying I’m completely over it and completely forgiven you and completely trust you again, but there’s been progress. Important progress.”
Josefine could read between the lines, “Ivy?”
“Ivy, yeah. She is…she’s been incredible. Once we got ourselves figured out after the worst of it, she feels more herself than ever before. I think we needed to take that step back to reset, figure us out as a family.”
“Of course. Even from a distance, I can see her growth from these last weeks,” Josefine agreed politely as she poured them each a mug of tea. Even with her head turned away to focus on her task, she could hear George’s proud smile.
“Yeah, it’s been really great.”
George leaned his hip against the counter and accepted his mug from her with a quiet thanks. Neither of them made any move to sit; preferring to stay standing in the middle of the kitchen, almost as if not wanting to risk the timid comfort in their discussion to be broken. For a moment, they prepared their tea and took their first sips, and took some time to prepare their thoughts as the conversation progressed.
George set his mug down with a soft clink against the countertop as he said, “I was so sure that ending the sponsorship was the right thing—”
Josefine couldn’t help it as she assured him quickly before he could finish, “I do not blame you.”
“No, I know. We both always put what’s best for our children first and I know you understand that very well. I’m not worried about that. I just…I was so focused on putting Ivy first, that I feel as though I was doing more harm than good. If that makes sense?”
She tried to understand but it was an odd confession. Doing harm by protecting his child? No parent was perfect but she could have sworn that George’s decision was the right one; that cutting ties to protect and focus on Ivy was one hundred percent the right thing to do. Her confusion must have shown on her face because she didn’t need to utter a word before he was continuing into an explanation.
“Like,” George shifted his weight for a moment, licking his lips as he stared at the wall to try and choose his words carefully, to best explain the complexities of what his mind had been going through for weeks, “I didn’t realize how much good the sponsorship brought to Ivy, too, until I called it off. After the last race, at Silverstone, once she said goodbye to Henrik and heard that he wasn’t coming back next year because of funding…she gave me an earful the whole drive home. Like she was scolding me.”
Josefine couldn’t help the small upturn to her lips that she hid behind the steam of her mug. It was a very Ivy claim, although also completely out of character all in the same breath. “She did?”
“Oh, yeah,” George chuckled, “I was surprised at first because I always thought she hated the idea of the sponsorship, you know? But these last few weeks have made her stronger…her and me, stronger, together. And I can see that she holds empathy for Henrik, especially over something like karting that they are both so passionate about. Her disappointment in my decision really unsettled me for this last week.”
“I agree. I did not think she liked having us there.” Josefine said.
The two of them shared faint smiles at the memories of the past year, of the hostility that Ivy once showed. So much had changed; Josefine was sure even more than she realized given that there was still distance between them all.
With a breath, George continued, “She has clearly done a lot of growing; more than I had thought. So I wanted to come here to speak with you about the sponsorship agreement as we look towards next season.”
In all honesty, Josefine had not been expecting that. Their apartment was almost entirely packed up, their flight was booked, her mind was already halfway to Trondheim. She was certainly not still clinging to any seemingly impossible reason to allow them to stay in England any longer; she had wrung her bank account dry longer than many would deem responsible.
Setting her mug down slowly, Josefine replied in a voice that sounded almost shaky to her untrusting ears, “Are you serious?”
George, in his full professionalism, explained easily, “Ivy wasn’t the sole reason that I came here to discuss this; I have been really thinking about it for longer than just this week or so. It’s been a combination of Henrik coming all the way to my house to pitch himself to me, his apology, his dedication and talent to the sport and to his position, the results he can guarantee, how he is with Ivy, how you are with Ivy, the financial situation as a whole…and, honestly, the emptiness. It feels different without you two. Racing but also…life.
“I’ve always wanted to do right by Ivy and I think having her come forward and tell me that I need to step up again…almost giving me her blessing in a way…confirmed it for me. It was a sign that we’re stable again and that healing can start. I have always wanted to sponsor a kid in karting and I cannot think of a better choice than Henrik; even after all of this. He is still my top choice.”
For a moment, there was quiet. George let her have her moment to process and figure out what she was feeling. Josefine wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling, as she stared into the steaming tea sitting patiently on the counter beside her, her face etched in a focused frown. Her mind was reeling, already five steps ahead while simultaneously feeling like it was at a complete lag.
Finally, she regulated herself enough to speak her mind cautiously; it was a tough conversation for the both of them for many similar and many different reasons.
“I am not blaming you for pulling out of the sponsorship as that was your right. I would have done the same thing if I were you,” she took a breath and met his eyes, “I am just worried…if we say yes to a new agreement…about the risk that comes…risking instability for Henrik. Losing the funding crushed him. I try to keep him from knowing the extent of our troubles—and maybe that is my error—but I do not want him to face such jarring change again.”
George raised his hands in surrender, “I understand. Totally.”
“If this is what you are wanting to do, if you are comfortable, we should sit down and revisit the agreement.”
“Yes, I was going to suggest that too. Figure out something that might work a bit better for both of us. Maybe it’s not one hundred percent funding, maybe we set some different boundaries.”
Josefine nodded, “And I promise to do my best to remedy our situation—you and me—and to be far more respectful to our trust.”
George offered her a small, friendly smile, “I know. Thank you.”
“Selfishly, I really enjoyed having another parent who understands and shares the same priorities that I do. I had not had any kind of relationship like that before. It hurt me, too, to realize that I hurt you…that I hurt Ivy. I do not want to make a mistake like that again.”
“I felt the same way,” George agreed softly, pausing just long enough to take a sip of his untouched tea, “As you could see from the environment at the races, it’s not easy to trust the other parents. Especially when I have the history and the finances I do. It was refreshing to meet you and not feel like you were using me; I mean, I had to practically force the funding into your hand sometimes. And you were likely one of the parents who needed it most.”
“I am glad I made you feel that way,” Josefine laughed lightly, “I never wanted anyone to feel as if my situation was their issue to solve. But, I am also incredibly thankful that you took a chance on Henrik. I know sponsors are very important in this sport and it really, really made all the difference.”
“My pleasure,” George assured with gentle ease.
Suddenly, in their momentarily silence, it all felt lighter. Josefine didn’t realize how quickly it could feel as though things were mending; not after weeks of feeling crushed under the tension and unresolved guilt. But here they were, standing in her kitchen and sharing a pot of tea, with a lightness in her chest that was reflected without question on the softness of George’s expression as he looked at her.
As much as she worried it may jeopardize the fragile offer, Josefine wanted to offer full transparency, and so she told him, “We do need to return to Norway for the season. The landlord here and my parents expect—”
“Right, of course,” George nodded, easing her hesitation, “We can meet virtually to discuss. No decisions have to be made now. And if you’re wanting to go ahead with next season, and you’re wanting to move back, we can get started in the new year with pre-season prep.”
“Okay,” Josefine exhaled.
“Okay,” George nodded once.
Between them passed a flicker of understanding, of healing. With that, the seeds were planted. Trust wouldn’t grow overnight but it was the important first step to rebuilding what had once felt so strong; now with the knowledge of where their weaknesses had lay. It felt too important to give up on, no matter the sacrifice or the heartache.
And Josefine was never one to give up. Especially not when it came to her son.
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I have a question about FMC and George in twig, what is the story behind their breeding kink ?
No real story tbh! I gave a bit more insight here before but honestly, it just naturally grew from their bond. She was the first and only person he ever came inside and maybe the intensity of it altered his brain chemistry or something LOL became a different man.
Neither of them thought about it much before they were together but it just kind of developed over time as their relationship grew. Detailed more in the link above 🥰
↳ A/N It's hard to believe the last chapter is upon us! It was hard to decide exactly how to end this story but I wanted each character to have an ending that felt 'right' for their development throughout the plot and felt realistic. I hope you all have enjoyed this journey no matter how angsty! Thank you for being here x
↳ 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: 3139
Josefine watched from the doorway as Henrik folded up his Formula 1 posters in silence.
His suitcase lay open on the bed, a creased, well-loved picture of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri already tucked inside—only one eye each still visible where the paper bent. Beneath them, the striking red of Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari race suit peeked through.
With a quiet sigh, Henrik tossed the last of his posters onto the growing pile. The confident grin of a twenty-something-year-old George stared back at him from above the crease.
The rest of his room was already packed up; his whole life able to fit in a trio of boxes. Josefine had wanted to wait until after the school year was over to move him back home but with no solid reason as to why they would need to stay, their Visa was in jeopardy. So, by the middle of October, they were already mostly packed up, flights booked, and Josefine had already called her parents to make sure they would have a place to stay when they landed.
Yet she still worried. She worried if they’d be okay back up North, she worried that Henrik wouldn’t be as fluent in Norwegian anymore after studying at an English school for his formative years, she worried that all of this had been the wrong decision to make all those years ago. Henrik was perfectly calm and perfectly quiet and she worried for the both of them.
It felt like they were packing up one life to go live another one. One that was written for them rather than the one they had been working so hard to build.
Having given themselves a week after the final race of the Championship to ease out of the routine and to arrange their move, they had spent the following week packing. It was coming down to the final items now as the flight date approached; only really the necessities left and for the final few responsibilities to be tied up. Henrik had to be signed out of school…they had to declare their departure date to the government…they had to turn in their apartment key to the landlord.
Their biggest hurdle, however, was upon them.
In the living room, Henrik’s karting equipment was laid out across the floor; tools, gloves, boots, spare tires and parts, and everything in between. They stood over it like it was a crime scene. His helmet and his racesuit were already packed; undeniably staying with them to be neatly put into a storage box of dust-ridden memories. The rest was to be decided.
“We should keep most of it,” Josefine said gently.
“Why?” Henrik replied flatly. Not unkind, simply asking. Matter of fact. Logical.
“Well…what if you need it again?”
“Mamma,” Henrik said, almost as if it were his turn to parent her, “I won’t need it again. We should sell it.”
Josefine set her hands on her hips and nibbled at her bottom lip to keep herself from choking up. Their cramped living room floor was scattered with long hours of work, dozens of memories, and the essence of her son’s childhood dream. It ached in her chest to even think about getting rid of any of it. They held no need for it anymore, that was true. But it didn’t make it any easier.
“Keep my gloves and boots,” Henrik compromised in a mumble as he bent down to pick them up, “Sell everything else.”
Josefine turned after him as he retreated to his room to pack away his saved items, “Are you sure?”
Henrik called back without sparing another glance, “Yeah. Some other kid might need it.”
Scrubbing her hands over her face in some failed attempt to keep from crying, Josefine turned back to the spread of equipment across the floor. With a sigh, she set her hands on her hips and looked for just a moment to admire each piece of second-hand equipment that she had worked so hard to afford for him over the years. The helplessness was a hole in her chest.
The knock at the door took her by surprise.
“I got it!” Henrik called from the hallway.
Josefine went to join him to see who had appeared at their doorstep unannounced, staying just a pace or two behind her son as he unlatched the lock and yanked open the door. None other than George Russell was standing there.
For a few long seconds, all three of them were perfectly silent. Josefine and Henrik, taken by surprise, were trying to come up with a greeting for the last person on Earth they expected to come by. George, on the other hand, honestly seemed just as surprised. As if this was the last place he expected to turn up to that afternoon. Right away, the air in the cramped foyer felt incredibly dense. In the apartment hallway, a fluorescent bulb flickered.
George broke the silence first with an awkward, “Hey, sorry for just…showing up.”
“That is…uh,” Josefine pressed her hand to her face as if she were manually translating what she wanted to say, as if the surprise of him stunned the English out of her, “It is okay. Can we help you?”
“Yeah, um…I was hoping we could talk if you have a few minutes.”
Henrik stepped aside to let George come in before asking, “Where’s Ivy?”
Toeing off his shoes, George replied, “At home. With my parents.”
“Oh,” Henrik frowned.
“I would have brought her but this isn’t a chat for her to be a part of.”
Then, his eyes were drawn to the stacks of cardboard boxes in the narrow hallway, the half-packed open bins on the kitchen table, and, of course, the spread of karting equipment across the living room. Josefine wanted to say a million things but nothing felt right. Instead, she stood there dumbly, with her arms folded across her chest and her bottom lip between her teeth. Things had eased since their falling out in the summer but it hadn’t settled completely and Josefine could still feel the unresolved tension simmering between them. Not to mention the undisclosed reason for George’s arrival. A chat that Ivy couldn’t be a part of? It sounded serious.
In a subtle way to try and ease the tension that came with his surprise visit, George asked, “Packing already?”
“Yes, our flight is booked for the 30th,” Josefine explained simply.
“Wow,” George stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t say anything else for a beat.
The three of them just stood there in the middle of the apartment in their tortured silence. Henrik glanced between the two adults expectantly. Neither were making eye contact, staring at the half-packed boxes scattered throughout the living room, buying time, and Josefine knew they looked a little ridiculous.
So she took a breath and turned to him, “So, this chat?”
“Right,” George cleared his throat and met her gaze, “I wanted to discuss your, uh, situation. The…situation.”
Henrik looked between them again, “What situation?”
Josefine pet a hand over his head and shooed him off with a gentle, “Henrik, can you go finish packing your things in your room for a minute?”
Knowing better than to argue—as much as he might have wanted to know what was going on—Henrik excused himself to his bedroom and nudged the door shut behind him. He left it open just a crack.
Josefine gestured George into the kitchen to try and earn them some more space; as much as she could in the tiny apartment. Without asking, she turned the kettle on and fetched two mugs from one of the open boxes on the kitchen counter. George lingered across the room.
“I know things have been rocky for a while now,” George started, his voice low to keep from Henrik overhearing if they could manage it, “and I just want to thank you for being understanding about it all.”
Josefine turned to him like he had just uttered the most ridiculous words, “Thank me? You do not need to thank me. I ruined your life…Ivy’s…I…”
Her words cut off as the guilt overcame her again, clawing like razors in the back of her throat. It was so easy to go back to that August afternoon outside the pit tent when Henrik exposed the secret that she had been trusted with; the look on Ivy’s face…the look on George’s. It was betrayal that she couldn’t forget.
“I broke your trust. I do not blame you for not wanting to forgive me and not wanting to take us back so easily.”
“You didn’t ruin our lives,” George sighed, “I just…honestly, despite the hurt that it caused, it showed me that maybe keeping that secret from Ivy wasn’t as good of a decision as I thought it was. I certainly hate the way that it came out, but it needed to.”
“Do not say that. Do not make less of the situation.” Josefine said slowly, gently.
“I’m not. And as much as I’d like to, I’m not saying I’m completely over it and completely forgiven you and completely trust you again, but there’s been progress. Important progress.”
Josefine could read between the lines, “Ivy?”
“Ivy, yeah. She is…she’s been incredible. Once we got ourselves figured out after the worst of it, she feels more herself than ever before. I think we needed to take that step back to reset, figure us out as a family.”
“Of course. Even from a distance, I can see her growth from these last weeks,” Josefine agreed politely as she poured them each a mug of tea. Even with her head turned away to focus on her task, she could hear George’s proud smile.
“Yeah, it’s been really great.”
George leaned his hip against the counter and accepted his mug from her with a quiet thanks. Neither of them made any move to sit; preferring to stay standing in the middle of the kitchen, almost as if not wanting to risk the timid comfort in their discussion to be broken. For a moment, they prepared their tea and took their first sips, and took some time to prepare their thoughts as the conversation progressed.
George set his mug down with a soft clink against the countertop as he said, “I was so sure that ending the sponsorship was the right thing—”
Josefine couldn’t help it as she assured him quickly before he could finish, “I do not blame you.”
“No, I know. We both always put what’s best for our children first and I know you understand that very well. I’m not worried about that. I just…I was so focused on putting Ivy first, that I feel as though I was doing more harm than good. If that makes sense?”
She tried to understand but it was an odd confession. Doing harm by protecting his child? No parent was perfect but she could have sworn that George’s decision was the right one; that cutting ties to protect and focus on Ivy was one hundred percent the right thing to do. Her confusion must have shown on her face because she didn’t need to utter a word before he was continuing into an explanation.
“Like,” George shifted his weight for a moment, licking his lips as he stared at the wall to try and choose his words carefully, to best explain the complexities of what his mind had been going through for weeks, “I didn’t realize how much good the sponsorship brought to Ivy, too, until I called it off. After the last race, at Silverstone, once she said goodbye to Henrik and heard that he wasn’t coming back next year because of funding…she gave me an earful the whole drive home. Like she was scolding me.”
Josefine couldn’t help the small upturn to her lips that she hid behind the steam of her mug. It was a very Ivy claim, although also completely out of character all in the same breath. “She did?”
“Oh, yeah,” George chuckled, “I was surprised at first because I always thought she hated the idea of the sponsorship, you know? But these last few weeks have made her stronger…her and me, stronger, together. And I can see that she holds empathy for Henrik, especially over something like karting that they are both so passionate about. Her disappointment in my decision really unsettled me for this last week.”
“I agree. I did not think she liked having us there.” Josefine said.
The two of them shared faint smiles at the memories of the past year, of the hostility that Ivy once showed. So much had changed; Josefine was sure even more than she realized given that there was still distance between them all.
With a breath, George continued, “She has clearly done a lot of growing; more than I had thought. So I wanted to come here to speak with you about the sponsorship agreement as we look towards next season.”
In all honesty, Josefine had not been expecting that. Their apartment was almost entirely packed up, their flight was booked, her mind was already halfway to Trondheim. She was certainly not still clinging to any seemingly impossible reason to allow them to stay in England any longer; she had wrung her bank account dry longer than many would deem responsible.
Setting her mug down slowly, Josefine replied in a voice that sounded almost shaky to her untrusting ears, “Are you serious?”
George, in his full professionalism, explained easily, “Ivy wasn’t the sole reason that I came here to discuss this; I have been really thinking about it for longer than just this week or so. It’s been a combination of Henrik coming all the way to my house to pitch himself to me, his apology, his dedication and talent to the sport and to his position, the results he can guarantee, how he is with Ivy, how you are with Ivy, the financial situation as a whole…and, honestly, the emptiness. It feels different without you two. Racing but also…life.
“I’ve always wanted to do right by Ivy and I think having her come forward and tell me that I need to step up again…almost giving me her blessing in a way…confirmed it for me. It was a sign that we’re stable again and that healing can start. I have always wanted to sponsor a kid in karting and I cannot think of a better choice than Henrik; even after all of this. He is still my top choice.”
For a moment, there was quiet. George let her have her moment to process and figure out what she was feeling. Josefine wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling, as she stared into the steaming tea sitting patiently on the counter beside her, her face etched in a focused frown. Her mind was reeling, already five steps ahead while simultaneously feeling like it was at a complete lag.
Finally, she regulated herself enough to speak her mind cautiously; it was a tough conversation for the both of them for many similar and many different reasons.
“I am not blaming you for pulling out of the sponsorship as that was your right. I would have done the same thing if I were you,” she took a breath and met his eyes, “I am just worried…if we say yes to a new agreement…about the risk that comes…risking instability for Henrik. Losing the funding crushed him. I try to keep him from knowing the extent of our troubles—and maybe that is my error—but I do not want him to face such jarring change again.”
George raised his hands in surrender, “I understand. Totally.”
“If this is what you are wanting to do, if you are comfortable, we should sit down and revisit the agreement.”
“Yes, I was going to suggest that too. Figure out something that might work a bit better for both of us. Maybe it’s not one hundred percent funding, maybe we set some different boundaries.”
Josefine nodded, “And I promise to do my best to remedy our situation—you and me—and to be far more respectful to our trust.”
George offered her a small, friendly smile, “I know. Thank you.”
“Selfishly, I really enjoyed having another parent who understands and shares the same priorities that I do. I had not had any kind of relationship like that before. It hurt me, too, to realize that I hurt you…that I hurt Ivy. I do not want to make a mistake like that again.”
“I felt the same way,” George agreed softly, pausing just long enough to take a sip of his untouched tea, “As you could see from the environment at the races, it’s not easy to trust the other parents. Especially when I have the history and the finances I do. It was refreshing to meet you and not feel like you were using me; I mean, I had to practically force the funding into your hand sometimes. And you were likely one of the parents who needed it most.”
“I am glad I made you feel that way,” Josefine laughed lightly, “I never wanted anyone to feel as if my situation was their issue to solve. But, I am also incredibly thankful that you took a chance on Henrik. I know sponsors are very important in this sport and it really, really made all the difference.”
“My pleasure,” George assured with gentle ease.
Suddenly, in their momentarily silence, it all felt lighter. Josefine didn’t realize how quickly it could feel as though things were mending; not after weeks of feeling crushed under the tension and unresolved guilt. But here they were, standing in her kitchen and sharing a pot of tea, with a lightness in her chest that was reflected without question on the softness of George’s expression as he looked at her.
As much as she worried it may jeopardize the fragile offer, Josefine wanted to offer full transparency, and so she told him, “We do need to return to Norway for the season. The landlord here and my parents expect—”
“Right, of course,” George nodded, easing her hesitation, “We can meet virtually to discuss. No decisions have to be made now. And if you’re wanting to go ahead with next season, and you’re wanting to move back, we can get started in the new year with pre-season prep.”
“Okay,” Josefine exhaled.
“Okay,” George nodded once.
Between them passed a flicker of understanding, of healing. With that, the seeds were planted. Trust wouldn’t grow overnight but it was the important first step to rebuilding what had once felt so strong; now with the knowledge of where their weaknesses had lay. It felt too important to give up on, no matter the sacrifice or the heartache.
And Josefine was never one to give up. Especially not when it came to her son.
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Crazy how f1 media involves and promote lando, max and lance in spa as their home race (from their mother’s side) despite not racing under the belgian flag YET alex albon is never included as an Englishman when they come to silverstone 🤔🤔🤔
Reminder that Alex has said that f1 media only refers to him as British when he has good results (e.g., London-born Thai) but if he isn’t doing well then he’s just referred to as Thai
absolutely no rush! just wondering if you received the ftm reader sub mr saturday request :0)
it sounds yummy and i can’t wait to read whatever genius words your brain produces
Hi anon! Yes, I did! Thank you :)
It is 'quite' far down my list so just be aware that it might take a while to get to, but I did note it!
Do you mind if I ask more details as this is a type of MC I've never written before (I'm assuming ftm is female-to-male?) and I want to ensure I can write it as accurately as I can! Can you tell me any more about how you visualize this character and their physicality for writing purposes? Would they be using a strap-on? Something else? What's your vision? 😋
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if i was oscar piastri and i saw people on the internet trying to portray me as a daddy dom top i too would be out there spitting out the most submissive-sounding quotes possible
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