everything but a lover, really

5. the lazy cocky i know i’m hot shit legs spread stupid 🤟 with one eye closed i desire him carnally i need to kick his chair over

4. Hand.

3. this is my girlfriend with her messy just went for a swim and a fuck hair and she’s wearing chunky rings and a silk shirt i got her. the sun is a paid actor and there is no care in the world for hot girls (gn) who never die

2. society peaked at this hair and i will never be over it holy fucking shit. pairing that masterpiece with his pink ear and sweat disheveled look and teeny tiny pixar mom waist and heavy titties while he sucks on a straw with his cheekbones out? knocked me Out

SO the grid is more or less divided into two sides: the Hamilton-Vettel side and the Alonso side (I'm considering the current only, plus Mick, Seb and Danny).

The Hamilton-Vettel family: grid dads Lewis and Seb are disgustingly in love and happily married and Charles is obviously their child™, alongside Mick and George (I don't see him as their kid as much as the other two, but he's not that far, so). Other people included in this family are definitely Alex (Georgie's boyfriend and Charles's friend), Pierre (Charles's bff and Lewis's friend) and Lance (Seb's former teammate and pseudo grid kid and one of Mick's bffs). I know that Lance being here and not on the other side of the barricade could disappoint some people because of the 'good relationship' he seems to have built with Fernando (I saw your Strollonso propaganda and porn), BUT c'mon!! He's Mick's friend! He was definitely indoctrinated by Seb! He said his idol growing up was Michael (which might have single-handedly got him adopted by Seb lmao)! No way he's leaning towards Nando.

The Alonso family (single dad power!) is basically him and his kids: Max (he has clearly chosen him as his successor in f1), Lando (he loves him and Max and Carlos love him too, so) and obviously Carlos (we know all Spanish athletes are probably in a sort of cult, spanish solidarity is very strong, they have known each other since Carlos was a child thanks to Sainz Senior blablabla).

That being said, we are all aware of the not-so-simple relationship between Seb and Fernando and Lewis and Fernando and their whole decade-long history. This obviously causes some big trouble when Charlos fall in love and begin dating. Seb and Lewis do approve of their son-in-law (there are a lot of pictures of them interacting and they seem to get along pretty well - an example is the Barcelona gp and the whole chili bucket hat drama lmao), if Fernando wasn't there Carlos could easily slip into their family and be pseudo adopted even without marrying into the family (Carlos as Sewis's kid could make sense) BUT Fernando. is. there. and Sewis don't really approve of him, and viceversa - i'd say that he likes Charles, so the problem is always the same: their respective son's in-laws (I'd add that Carlos Sainz Sr is the one who doesn't like Charles very much, he probably sees him as a threat). Moreover I think that things between Lewis and Max might still be sort of tense, same goes for Georgie and Max, and other similar conflicts, so Christmas dinners with the in-laws won't probably be very pleasant in general (the risk of them easily turning into crime scenes is very high - there are knifes are around). SO all of this means that Charles and Carlos are a bit like Romeo and Juliet!! They come from two different families which are more or less in conflict with each other (and the conflict can only increase as the championship goes on, especially with Fernando currently doing well and Ferrari being utterly shit, because the gap is getting increasingly bigger) but their love managed to blossom in the middle ground. Obviously it's not that dramatic, the two sides don't hate each other that much: it's not hate per se, it's more... some dislike? Complicated feelings for sure! I know that some drivers are friends with the enemy family (es. The Twitch Quartet), but it's all for the sake of the narrative lol Anyway the vibes are there!! And they're immaculate!! I haven't imagined how a proper and more elaborate Romeo&Juliet AU could work (yet), but the foundation would be more or less this. Something that would be interesting to reflect on is how the dynamics would change if the championship results were different (es. Ferrari were competitive), between everybody and especially between our Romeo and Juliet, but I'm digressing now

Bonus: what about the rest of the grid? Val obviously prefers the Hamilton-Vettel side, Checo would be on Fernando's side (Spanish speaker solidariety and all that, but his 'allegiance' is not that strong, I suppose he doesn't care that much, he's like a distant uncle), Oscar is actually Mark Webber's kid (and!! that's a story for another day, because!! Mark... and... Seb... and Mark and Fernando!! We all know things happened. But let's not dwell on that rn, it would be too complicated) so he'd better stay out of the conflict and Logan, being useless his friend, would probably follow him, so. I imagine Kmag and Hulk would more or less stay neutral (they've got their personal sUcK mY bAlLs MaTe beef going on so lol) and so would Nyck? Tbh I didn't give them much thought because someone like Yuki is much more interesting in this setting, since he is Pierre's bf but Fernando has taken a liking to him and kinda made him one of his grid kid, so he is in a peculiar position. But let's be real, Yuki doesn't give many fucks, so he probably going to waltz from on side of the paddock to the other without a care in the world. Estie is interesting too: while he is Mick's other bff, he also has a love-hate relationship with Fernando. I believe that he is on the other side, still I don't trust him and Nando together lmao. I'm actually not sure about Zhou, he would probably be quite neutral, but I know he admires Fernando a lot (I admit I'm fumbling a little bit in the dark here lol but it's okay, I hadn't actually thought about every single driver, some of them I'm making up as I type).

The real wild card is Danny Ric, because he has known Lewis and Seb for years (underrated trio!!) and obviously likes George and Pierre and more or less their whole family BUT. Alonso has Max on his side. And Lando. So Danny's probably like the friendly neighborhood dog: he loves everybody and he gets fed like four times a day because everybody loves him and he doesn't really pick a side.

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training. 

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore. 

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock. 

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening. 

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds. 

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows. 

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast! 

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now. 

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type. 

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first. 

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad. 

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table. 

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks. 

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold. 

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can. 

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner. 

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them. 

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping. 

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away. 

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

— 

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight. 

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked. 

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too. 

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea. 

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission. 

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying. 

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter. 

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!” 

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller. 

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?” 

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine. 

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt. 

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening. 

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close. 

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply. 

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours. 

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other. 

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively. 

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other. 

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning. 

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back. 

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy. 

“You know what that means,” you say. 

“Sex,” he replies immediately. 

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm. 

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies. 

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say.