ioanna

“Charles, come on! We’re going to be late, schatje!”

Max’s voice echoed from down the hall, his footsteps uneven as he navigated over the various boxes and furniture still scattered throughout the house. They’d just moved into their new home last week and they were still figuring out where everything went.

The door to the bedroom opened and Max leaned against it, looking at Charles with one raised eyebrow. Charles looked back imploringly, green eyes wide and sad, while a wriggling Leo continued to lick his face enthusiastically. He pouted for added effect, sticking out his bottom lip dramatically.

get married and have a beautiful wife

have a dog he loves very much

buy a yacht

have his bff be his personal photographer and co-business owner

Obviously I don’t expect everyone to know about it since he doesn’t brag about it and acts like it’s a big achievement all the time like some other drivers (💀)

And maybe I’m reaching but this « dumbification » view f1 fans have of Charles is genuinely so weird, obviously finishing high school doesn’t equate intelligence but in a majority of people mind (especially f1 fans) it is hence they why some can’t possibly think he could have finished his studies (anyway sorry for the rent I know it’s not that deep but still 🫩)

indeed, he did finish high school (and got his bac ES)! he has talked about it a few times in interviews: he talked about how important it was to his parents that he finishes school and how his grand-mother (who was a teacher if I remember correctly) helped him sometimes with his school work.

The day started cold and rainy in typical early March fashion. Sitting in the passenger seat next to Andrea, Charles bit his thumbnail nervously, eyes glued on the buildings ahead as his head of security parked the car in his usual spot. It felt like his first day of school, the butterflies in his stomach making him a little nauseous.

There was no reason for that, but he couldn’t help it.

He wished Max were here instead of back at the house, but he didn’t have clearance to be on the base, not today. At least Charles had the reassurance he’d see him tonight when he went home. And he was always just one phone call away if Charles needed him.

As with the later chapters of this fic, heed the TW.

He has once again reiterated that he sucks at any sport that isn't car racing because he has bad coordination. Is marginally better at basketball than football, which is at the bottom of the list

He learned most of his Italian from his karting days, in school they "taught him how to count up to thirty and that's it", what kind of immersion level was he in

His wedding suit was a Brunello Cucinelli model - this may mean something only to me but Cucinelli is one of the very few BIG enterpreneurs who treats his workers right so. W for me specifically

The Ferrari 250 Testarossa he drove at his wedding? It was LOANED TO HIM by a private owner. That was contacted by Ferrari (owners of a Ferrari car belong to a sort of exclusive club). Charles didn't ask for that specific model, just that he wanted to drive a Ferrari on his wedding day. AND THEY GOT THE PHONEBOOK OUT.

He made his proposal to Alex on September 25 and apparently he forgot every word he's ever known when he went to ask her 🥹

"We were very lucky to manage to keep things small and quiet because in Monaco word goes round very fast" SMALL VILLAGE VIBE TO THIS TAX-EVADING MILLIONAIRES' HIDING PLACE WTF

The way he said "my big brother" and "my little brother" in Italian - "mio grande fratello" and "mio piccolo fratello" when it should be "fratello grande" and "fratello piccolo"

"I was more nervous on my wedding day than in any quali because you can redo a quali lap, a wedding is a one try" 🥹🥹🥹

"There was no doubt about having Leo at the ceremony with us" and "he liked having the tuxedo on, he understood it was a special day" SHUT UPPPPPP

IT WAS ALWAYS THE RED CAR

He's not on social media beyond making his posts (for which he chooses the pictures and captions himself) because the way social media react in extremes to everything (especially his races, both in positive and negative) disturbed him so he doesn't look at them anymore

Monza 2019 and Monaco were the only two times he struggled to keep his emotions in check while he was still in the car

He keeps all his helmets, but the Monaco 24 one is in his living room with the trophy, always on display ❤️

He's scared of helicopters and snakes

He's very aware of how privileged his life is, so he never complains even if his days are always packed full, "because I get to do what I love all the time"

"The day I feel fear inside the car is the day I retire, because fear has no place in racing" [walks into the ocean]

He hasn't had his bachelor party yet. Elettra Lamborghini slandered my boy on the Sanremo stage

Charles stared blankly at the ceiling of his hospital room, his body heavy and leaden. Someone had left the curtains open and winter sunlight shone across the sterile white room, making it look even bleaker. Next to his bed, his phone lay dark and silent.

It’d been a couple days now since Max had last texted him, telling him that he loved him, begging him to please say something. Charles had almost caved. 

Almost. 

(please heed the updated tags and warning!)

“Hi, Charles. What’s up?”

“I’ve got some bad news,” Charles said sadly.

Max frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to cancel our fall trip. I have to go to eastern Europe for a few weeks.”

“Oh,” Max replied, heart clenching in disappointment. “And you can’t get out of it?”

“Sorry, babe. I would if I could,” Charles responded subdued.

The sound of the engine roared all around the cabin as the plane approached its destination, the clouds giving way to land dotted with intersecting houses and roads and the occasional forests and fields. Max vibrated in his seat as they started their descent toward Saint-Dizier, his face pressed against the window as the airbase came into view below them.

The next time he’d be up here, it’d be in a fighter jet, flying with Charles.

Charles is literally all I care about or pay attention to during a race. I fully support him in any and all track terrorism. If something good happens to another driver, I literally don’t care, it should’ve happened to Charles instead. Rpf? What rpf? The only thing I truly ship during a race is Charles and P1. If anyone negatively affects his race, I will be making posts cursing the other driver’s entire bloodline.