Hopeless Dreamer @daydreaming-shadow - Tumblr Blog

⊹ ࣪˖ KRAMPUSNACHT? MORE LIKE THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS | #TW

pairing. toto wolff x wife!reader

synopsis. toto takes yn out on a date, and conveniently forgets to tell her that it's krampusnacht. she retaliates by trying to sell him, which works a bit too well. chaos ensues.

warnings. none (i think??)

note. i am alive!!! also, my first toto fic. it's a bit shorter than usual, but i hope you like it regardless!!

MASTERLIST ; requests open

mercedesamgf1

liked by kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63 and 974,323 others

mercedesamgf1 and that's a wrap on the 2025 season!

#toto wolff.#toto wolff fic recs.#smau.#🏁🏎formula 1.

empyrealix

⊹ ࣪˖ MONZAGATE | #TW

pairing. toto wolff x tifosi!wife!reader

synopsis. yn, ferrari fan and toto wolff's wife, goes to watch the formula one race from the monza grandstand.

warnings. some swearing

note. i realise that the order of the races is not entirely correct, but whatever, it is what it is

MASTERLIST; requests open

#THIS WAS SO GOOD!!!#not the fans taking one small thing and blowing it MAJORLYYY out of proportion 😭#(highkey happens irl too 😭)#toto wolff.#toto wolff fic recs.#smau.#🏁🏎formula 1.

andy-15-07

Tiny Hands

Pairing: Macklin Celebrini x Reader

Word Count: 2494

Request open!

24 days of Christmas | Hockey Masterlist | Hockey Masterlist II

Valentine's Day Masterlist

The baby monitor starts crackling at 5:12 a.m.

Mack groans into his pillow. “No way.”

Beside him, you make a tired sound and pull the blanket over your shoulder. “Please tell me that’s a dream.”

Then your daughter’s cry comes through louder,thin at first, then full force, upset and shaky and very, very awake.

Mack lifts his head, hair a mess, eyes barely open. “Okay. Definitely not a dream.”

You squint at the ceiling. “Whose turn is it?”

He pauses. “I think… yours?”

You turn your head slowly. “Macklin.”

“Okay, maybe ours.”

The crying gets louder.

You both sit up at the same time, exhausted and automatic, like you’ve been training for this exact moment for months. Which, in a way, you have.

Mack swings his legs over the side of the bed first. “I got her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He rubs his face. “You stay here for one more minute.”

You smile sleepily. “One minute turns into ten.”

“Then enjoy your ten.”

He disappears down the short hallway to the nursery, and a second later you hear his voice, low and warm even with all the sleep still in it.

“Hey, hey, little bug. I’m coming. Don’t fire me yet.”

You get up anyway.

By the time you step into the nursery, he’s already lifted your daughter from her crib. She’s tiny against his chest, wrapped in a pale yellow sleeper with little ducks on the feet, her face red from crying. At three months old, she still seems impossibly small to you sometimes. Like someone trusted the two of you with a star and expected you not to drop it.

Mack bounces her carefully. “I don’t know why she’s crying,” he says, looking at you over her head. “I’m trying not to take it personally.”

You move closer and brush your fingers over her cheek. “She’s not mad at you.”

“She seems a little mad at me.”

“She’s a baby.”

“She’s a baby with opinions.”

That gets the smallest smile out of you.

Your daughter cries harder, little fists waving. Mack’s face falls. “Okay, no, seriously, what do I do? I picked her up. I did the bounce. I did the pat thing. I even told her she’s prettier than me.”

You laugh softly. “Let me see.”

He passes her over carefully, reluctant and relieved at the same time. The second she’s in your arms, you shift her against your shoulder and sway gently.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you murmur. “What’s wrong, huh?”

“She’s probably hungry,” Mack says.

“Or wet.”

“Or she just hates mornings. Honestly? Same.”

You look at him. “Can you grab the diaper stuff?”

He salutes dramatically. “On it.”

He crosses to the dresser and hands you a fresh diaper, wipes, and the cream. You lay your daughter on the changing table and unsnap her sleeper while she fusses.

Mack hovers beside you. “She’s looking at me like I betrayed her.”

“She’s looking at the light.”

“No, that’s judgment.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Talk to her.”

“What do I say?”

“Anything.”

He leans down a little, resting his elbows near the changing table. “Hey, peanut. So here’s the thing. We’re gonna do a quick pit stop. Fresh diaper. New outlook on life. Maybe a bottle after. Pretty solid morning lineup.”

Your daughter hiccups mid-cry.

“There,” he says immediately. “She likes my strategy.”

“She hiccupped.”

“She was impressed.”

You finish changing her diaper, quick from practice now. Three months ago you’d both stared at the first diaper like it was a timed bomb. Now it’s second nature.

Mack watches you fasten the clean one. “You make that look way too easy.”

“You can do it too.”

“I can. I just,” He shrugs. “You’re faster.”

“That’s because I’ve done, like, ten more than you.”

“Because every time I try, she pees with sniper accuracy.”

You laugh, picking her back up. “That happened once.”

“It changed me.”

In the kitchen, the apartment is still dim and quiet. Early light slips through the blinds in pale stripes. You sit at the table with the baby and start getting her bottle ready while Mack warms it just enough.

He tests it and hands it over. “Chef’s kiss.”

“You say that every time.”

“And every time, I’m right.”

You settle your daughter in your arms and start feeding her. Instantly, the crying stops. Her tiny mouth works at the bottle with intense concentration, like she’s doing the world’s most important job.

Mack stares at her. “Wow.”

“What?”

“She was screaming like the world was ending, and now she’s just…” He gestures helplessly. “Having breakfast.”

You smile down at her. “That’s babies.”

“No, that’s emotional whiplash.”

He pulls out the chair next to you and sits, leaning his head on your shoulder for a second. “You’re really good at this.”

You glance at him. “We’re both figuring it out.”

“Yeah, but you always know what she needs.”

“Not always.”

“More than me.”

You bump his knee under the table. “You knew she needed to be picked up.”

“Then I panicked.”

“You panic politely.”

“That should be on a T-shirt.”

By the time the bottle’s empty, your daughter’s eyes are drifting shut again. Mack reaches over and gently touches her tiny fist. She curls her fingers around one of his.

His whole face softens.

“She’s got me wrapped around her hand already.”

“She literally does.”

He smiles without looking away. “I know.”

Later that morning, after a little more sleep for all three of you and a rushed breakfast eaten in shifts, the living room is scattered with baby things,blankets, burp cloths, a pacifier that somehow keeps ending up under the couch.

Mack sits cross-legged on the floor with the baby propped against his bent leg, supported by your nursing pillow. He’s holding one of her mini board books upside down.

You pause from folding laundry on the couch. “Your book is upside down.”

He looks at it, flips it, then frowns. “Was it?”

“Yes.”

“She didn’t notice.”

“That’s because she’s three months old.”

“She’s gifted.”

He clears his throat dramatically and opens the book. “Okay, miss girl. Story time. ‘Goodnight Moon.’ A classic. A masterpiece. Riveting from start to finish.”

You smile as you fold one of her sleepers. “Read it properly.”

“I am reading it properly.”

He points to the page. “In the great green room…”

His voice changes when he reads to her,softer, steadier. Your daughter stares up at him, wide-eyed and quiet, one hand waving now and then like she’s helping tell the story.

He turns the page. “There was a telephone…”

Then he glances at you. “Why is there always a bowl of mush in this book?”

You laugh. “Just keep going.”

“No, I have questions.”

“The baby does not care about your literary criticism.”

“I think she does.” He looks down at her. “Do you care about the mush, sweetheart?”

Your daughter blinks at him.

“She agrees it’s weird,” he says.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you keep folding. There are moments like this when the tiredness lifts just enough for you to really see it: the tiny domestic magic of your life. Not easy. Never easy. But real. And warm.

After the book, he lowers it and gently boops the baby’s nose with one finger. “That’s the end. Five stars. Would read again.”

You stand and carry the folded clothes to the basket. “She liked your voice.”

“She likes hearing me roast children’s literature.”

“Definitely that.”

He grins.

The calm lasts another twenty minutes.

Then it starts.

First, a whimper.

Then a squirm.

Then your daughter pulls her legs up and lets out a cry that’s sharper than before, uncomfortable and miserable.

You look up from rinsing bottles at the sink. “Oh no.”

Mack straightens immediately. “What happened?”

He picks her up, but she cries harder, twisting and scrunching up.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says quickly, like he’s defending himself to a jury.

“I know.” You dry your hands and come over. “Let me feel her tummy.”

You rest your hand lightly against her belly. Tight.

“Colic?” he asks, worried.

“Could be gas.”

She cries again, little face screwed up, and your chest aches with helplessness.

Mack rocks her carefully. “Hey, hey, no. Don’t do that. Don’t cry like that.”

“She’s okay,” you say softly, though you know he’s not really talking to her. “She’s uncomfortable, that’s all.”

“I hate that I can’t fix it.”

You reach for the bottle of gas drops from the counter. “We’ll try.”

He follows you like a shadow while you give her the drops and then reposition her against your shoulder. You rub her back in slow circles.

“Can you walk with her?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He takes her and starts pacing the living room, careful and attentive, murmuring nonsense under his breath.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay. We’re figuring it out. We are a deeply underqualified team, but we love you a lot.”

You almost smile even with the worry in your chest.

He keeps pacing. “You can yell at me if you need to. That’s fair. I’d yell too.”

“She’s not yelling at you,” you say.

“She feels like she’s making a point.”

After a few minutes, the crying eases for a second, then starts again.

Mack looks at you, helpless. “What else?”

“Try bicycle legs.”

“I always feel like I’m doing them wrong.”

“You’re not.” You come close and guide him to sit on the couch. “Here.”

Together, you carefully move her little legs, gentle and slow.

Mack watches her face like he can will the pain away. “Please work.”

You touch his arm. “She’ll settle.”

“I know.” He swallows. “It just sucks.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He looks up at you. “Are you okay?”

The question surprises you enough that you laugh softly. “I’m not the one with gas.”

“You know what I mean.”

You sit beside him. “I’m tired.”

“Me too.”

“And sometimes I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

He stares at you. “You?”

“Yeah, me.”

“You’re doing amazing.”

“You say that because you love me.”

“I say that because it’s true.” He adjusts the baby against his chest. “You know what every cry means.”

“Not every cry.”

“Most of them.”

You lean your head on his shoulder for one second, just one. “We’re both trying.”

“I know.” He turns his head and kisses your hair. “You’re not doing this alone.”

Before you can answer, your daughter lets out a tiny burp.

You and Mack both freeze.

Then another one.

The crying stops.

For a beat, the room is completely silent.

Mack blinks. “Was that it?”

You look at the baby, now blinking drowsily like she hasn’t spent the last twenty minutes emotionally destroying both of you.

Then you laugh.

Mack stares at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“She needed to burp.”

“She just ruined my entire nervous system over a burp.”

“She’s little.”

He looks down at her. “That was so dramatic.”

Your daughter sighs and nestles into his chest.

He melts instantly. “Okay. Fine. You’re still perfect.”

By afternoon, she’s calmer.

You get her changed into a soft pink onesie, and Mack insists on choosing the socks.

“These ones,” he says, holding up a pair with tiny strawberries.

“They don’t match.”

“She’s a baby. She doesn’t run a fashion account.”

You snort. “Put them on, then.”

He does it with complete concentration, tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth while he works the tiny sock over her foot.

“There,” he says proudly. “Stylish.”

“She has one strawberry and one plain white sock.”

“Eclectic.”

Later, while you make sandwiches in the kitchen, Mack sits with her in the nursery rocker. You hear him talking to her through the open door.

“So your mom thinks I can’t dress you. That’s fake news, by the way.”

A tiny coo answers him.

“Exactly. Thank you.”

You lean against the doorway and watch them for a moment before he notices.

“What?” he says.

“Nothing.”

“You’re looking at me.”

“I’m allowed.”

He smiles and looks back at the baby. “Your mom’s being weird again.”

“She gets that from you.”

“Impossible.”

By evening, the apartment is quiet again. The rough patch from earlier feels far away now, softened by the ordinary rhythm of the day. Feed, burp, change, rock, repeat. Exhaustion woven together with tiny perfect moments.

After her bath, wrapped in a towel with a duck hood that dwarfs her whole head, your daughter looks more offended than clean.

Mack takes one look and laughs. “She looks betrayed.”

“She hates baths.”

“She hates injustice.”

You lotion her up, put her in clean pajamas, and dim the nursery lights.

“She’s gonna sleep,” Mack says hopefully.

You give him a look. “Don’t jinx it.”

“Right. Sorry. She’s actually planning to host a concert at midnight.”

“That sounds more accurate.”

He grins and takes the little storybook from the shelf again. “One more?”

You nod.

He sits on the floor beside the crib this time, knees bent, back against the wall. You lower your daughter into the crib carefully, and after one little fuss, she settles. Her eyes stay open, heavy but watchful, fixed on Mack.

He opens the book and reads in a soft voice, not for performance now, not joking as much,just gentle, steady, there.

You sit beside him, shoulder against shoulder.

When he finishes, he sets the book aside and rests his hand through the crib slats.

Your daughter’s tiny fingers curl around one of his.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment.

She looks so small, her hand barely big enough to hold him, but she does. Like she knows exactly where she belongs.

Mack’s voice comes out quiet. “I could sit here forever.”

You glance at him. In the low light, he looks younger and older at the same time. A teenager, still. Your boyfriend. The father of your baby. Tired, overwhelmed, ridiculous, sweet.

“She likes you,” you whisper.

He huffs softly. “I hope so. I’ve been working very hard for her approval.”

“You read upside-down books to her.”

“She didn’t mind.”

You smile and lean your head against the wall. “Today was a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“But good.”

He nods slowly, eyes still on the baby. “Good.”

After a second, he says, “Do you ever get scared?”

You answer honestly. “All the time.”

“Me too.”

You look at him. “But?”

He finally turns his head to you.

“But when it’s you and her… it feels less scary.”

Your throat tightens a little. “Yeah.”

He smiles, small and tired and real. “We’re okay, right?”

You look at the crib, at the tiny hand around his finger, at the little rise and fall of your daughter’s chest as she drifts toward sleep.

Then back at him.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “We’re okay.”

He squeezes your hand with his free one.

And in the quiet nursery, with the last of the day settling around the three of you, that feels like enough.

daydreaming-shadow

This had me feeling all mushy inside, the fluff was top noch and I loved every word of it 🥹

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

pearlandemerald

baby mine - nm²⁹

summary - a day in the life of you and nate on an avs game day on your first week of maternity leave

pairing - nathan mackinnon x doctor!reader

warnings - pregnancy, suggestive content, hints of nesting anxiety, and not proofread

wc - 5.1k

requested - no!

a/n - avs please I can’t do this rn…please

“I feel huge.” You sigh from the couch, looking at the bowl of oatmeal that you had carefully balanced on your bump.

“You're growing our child, so of course you feel big.” Nathan shakes his head at your antics and continues to meal prep.

“Yeah, I know, your huge ass baby.” You tilt your head back and look at Nathan in the kitchen upside down.

“Baby girl is not that big.” He puts more meals into the refrigerator, “Eat your breakfast, please, Y/N.”

“That’s not my name.” You retort, sounding like a petulant child.

“It is your name.”

“No…you refer to me as baby, babe, my wife, or light of my life. Not Y/N.” You tap the bowl but make no move to eat it.

“Baby, please eat your breakfast before I leave for practice. I don’t want to have to tell Bednar the reason why I’m playing shitty is that my pregnant wife didn’t eat her breakfast.” He puts away the last of the meal containers and walks over to you, sitting on the couch with you.

#THIS WAS SO CUTE 🥹#nathan mackinnon.#nm29 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.

prettyskjei

plot twist: it was him — nathan mackinnon

summary: you and nate have been dating for years but nobody knew (only very close people) but he wants to let your fans know that HE is the boyfriend but they don’t catch it

note: I saw a post of the nhl followers tracker and I had this idea, and I'm literally posting this while I'm in class at uni, enjoyyyyy!

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by mackinnon29, yourbestf and others

yourusername a week in San Francisco!

comments

user1 sf looks good on you ngl

user2 obsessed with this whole grid

mintentea I love this

yourbestf this looks like such a good week, I’m jealous

yourusername girl, we’re going next month chill

user6 watching hockey at a bar in san francisco is very interesting

user29 you made a vlog? 😁

yourusername yes! I’ll post it in 10 minutes :)

user87 the fact that there’s hockey in this dump feels important istg

nylandergf oh she’s chronically online i fear

TIKTOK ‘SF SHORT VLOG!”

You start filming while you’re already walking, the city moving around you instead of waiting for you to catch up. The camera bounces slightly with each step. “Okay, hi,” you say, a little breathless but smiling. “We’re walking around San Francisco right now.”

You turn the phone just enough to show the street ahead, buildings, people, the slope of the road and then back to you. “We’re kind of just exploring today. No real plan, just vibes.” Nate walks close enough beside you that his shoulder brushes yours now and then. You don’t move away. “Right now we’re heading to get coffee,” you add, glancing sideways for half a second. “And then we’ll see where the day takes us.”

You keep talking as you go, narrating small moments like they matter. “Okay, we just bought these,” you say a little later, lifting a matching pair of slippers into the frame. “Because we have a nephew, and he’s obsessed with Minions. He wants to have a sleepover with us, so we’re doing it properly, that is matching slippers and everything.” You smile, amused by your own explanation. “I think it’s actually really fun.”

His hand slips into the view, pointing at something inside the bag, and you laugh. “Yes, that too,” you say, pulling out a small postcard with the Golden Gate on it. “You’re gonna pretend I’m the kind of person who send a mail, okay?” You grin. “Now we’re walking this way because apparently there’s a really good view up there.” You tilt the camera toward the street again. “It’s uphill, though, so… wish us luck.”

. . .

After the Golden Gate, you go to the burger place and the sound shifts, music, voices, plates clinking. You prop your phone against a glass. “Okay, quick food update,” you say. “I got a cheeseburger with fries,” you explain, “and you got the double burger with bacon.” You glance off-camera, already smiling. “Right?” A nod you don’t show. “Yeah.” You lean in a little, lowering your voice like it’s a secret. “We’re absolutely breaking his diet today and I do not care,” you add, laughing. “San Francisco rules.”

When the burgers arrive, you pause, eyes lighting up. You turn slightly. “Take it, babe,” you say easily, passing the phone over. The angle changes, catching you mid-laugh as you take a big bite, immediately covering your mouth. You give a thumbs up. “It’s so good,” you manage once you can talk again, still smiling.

The video ends much later, when the day has softened. You’re sitting on the grass now, legs pulled in, the city quieter around you. The camera is steady again. “Okay,” you say, smiling into the lens. “I think that’s it for today. I hope you liked coming along with us,” you add. You glance off to the side for a second, then back, like you’re checking something only you can see. “This day was actually kind of short because I wasn’t even planning on vlogging… but he told me I should, so thanks to him, you have this video.” You laugh softly and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Thank you so much for watching,” you continue. “I’ll see you next time, which, if I’m not wrong, is probably going to be the sleepover with my nephew.” You smile wider. “Goodbye!”

748k comments

user7: SINCE WHEN YOU HAVE A WHOLE BOYFRIEND?? 😭😭

user29: the minion slippers hahahahh

user2: girl blink twice if he’s forcing you to hike

user99: omg I'll sound crazy if I say I recognize that finger 🫩

user3: wdym his diet??? what he does for a living? I have a friend (nate) and he have a strict diet too…

user6: Nate reveal when???

user38: well, thanks to Nate we have this vlog 🙏🏻

user99: we don’t know if he’s the bf, tf

user12: if Nate post something about minions someone will have to sedate me

user1: YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND???

user34: he knows your angles

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

mackinnon29 and yourusername posted on their story !

[mackinnon29] bmarch63 replied to your story!

bmarch63: stop giving your girlfriend a headache!

mackinnon29: leave me alone! I want to let her fans know she’s taken

bmarch63: just post a picture of her!

mackinnon29: I have to wait

bmarch63: wait for what?

[yourusername] bmarch63 replied to your story!

bmarch63: Nate posted the same one

yourusername: I took it lol, he told me he wanted to post one but didn’t know how to take it

bmarch63: yk what he’s trying to do, right??

yourusername: yes but he’s really bad 👎🏻👎🏻

yourusername

liked by mackinnon29, bmarch63 and others

yourusername ti amo milano

comments

nylandergf omggg just say you two are dating already, I’m tired

user17 girl just tag the medal owner already

user87 TWICE! I CAN SEE HIM IN BOTH PICTURES

user29 this isn’t casual btw

user14 the fact that he’s visible in BOTH shots

yourbestf i didn’t know you were an olympian

yourusername since yesterday

bmarch63 still surprised you got him to go sightseeing during a tournament

user7 GOT WHO? user okay but which canadian are we talking about

user1 this is relationship propaganda

user222 imagine being her bf and seeing this 👎🏻

mackinnon29 i have the same medal

yourusername no way! a friend borrow me this one user6 THIS IS WORSE THAN A MISSED EMPTY NET user29 bro scored for canada but can’t score here user87 I can’t believe that natemac is on the friendzone

friend.ofboth you got a medal? hope you bringing to home

yourusername just for you, babe! 😘 user8 wait so the bf is real? 😧 user29 so you and Nate is not happening? user58 oh…

mackinnon29

liked by yourusername, mcdavid97 and others

mackinnon29 thank you Canada, for your incredible support throughout this ride 🇨🇦 Milan was a special experience, thank you

comments

yourusername the second one is peak 🔥

mackinnon29 I like the last one more

bmarch63 the best team! ❤️🇨🇦

the creator limited the comments

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

mackinnon29

liked by calemakar_, bmarch63 and others

mackinnon29 ten years and the rest of our lives together @/yourusername

the creator limited the comments

TWITTER

| K ‎ꫂ᭪݁

daydreaming-shadow

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH!!!

#nathan mackinnon.#nm29 fic recs.#smau.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

pearlandemerald

breakpoints and breakaways - mc⁷¹

summary - in which macklin goes to train in cole harbor, nova scotia and ends up leaving with a lot of hockey wisdom and maybe a girlfriend? link to the smau

pairings - macklin celebrini x crosby!reader

warnings - nathan mackinnon instigating the relationship. also crosby!reader being a menace. tooth-rotting fluff. will smith appearance. i might just be lowkey yapping in the first part

wc - 7.4k holy shit

requested - no

a/n - after about 45,000 different versions of this story, I finally ended with a meeting for crosby!reader and mack that I am happy with! should i do headcanons for crosby!reader or background info for her? i want to tell you more about her.

Summer is your favorite time of the year. The time when you spend every waking moment bathing in the Nova Scotia sun, swimming, and playing tennis. It is also the one time during the year when you get to see her dad for more than one week at a time.

You bike down the road, the sound of your wheels rolling over the asphalt, a quiet section in the symphony that was the sound of Cole Harbour in early August. You curve into the driveway and hop off of your bike, walking it the rest of the way into the garage. Propping it against miscellaneous boxes in the bay your dad swears he will organize. You walk back through the door to the house, humming along to a song absentmindedly.

“Hey sweetheart.” Your dad, Sidney Crosby, is in the kitchen, his voice muffled by your music.

“Hi, Dad.” You pull out your headphones and put them away.

“Good bike ride?” He asks and ruffles your hair.

#i loved this so much 🥹#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

harrysfolklore

chef - cl16

summary: mclaren hires a new chef and a certain ferrari driver can't seem to stay away from their garage now

folkie radio: HI GUYS IM BACK !! life is finally giving me a break and i can finally get back on track with writing !! this is short but a way for me to get the creative juices flowing again. remember that my requests are open. hope you like this ! MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by lando, oscarpiastri and 15,836 others <

yourinstagram Finally can share the news! Your girl is officially feeding the fastest team on the grid 🧡 Started my journey as @mclaren’s new team chef and still can't believe I'm cooking for these legends. From 4AM breakfast preps to late night recovery meals - every bite fuels these incredible humans.

Special thanks to @lando and @oscarpiastri for trusting my experimental papaya-inspired dishes 😂 (Yes, that orange smoothie bowl was a bit too much, sorry boys!)

Still getting used to cooking in different countries every other week, but loving every second of it!

daydreaming-shadow

THE WAY I MISSED YOUR AMAZING SMAUS!!! 🥹

#charles leclerc.#cl16 fic recs.#smau.#🏁🏎formula 1.

verstappenverse

The Bare Minimum

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max always thought you never asked for much because you didn’t need much, low-maintenance to a fault, until he finally overhears the truth.

4.4k words / Masterlist

Max had always appreciated how easy you were to love.

You didn’t demand. You didn’t sulk over missed dates. There were no passive-aggressive comments about him not posting you enough or forgetting to text back when a race weekend swallowed him whole. You never made him feel guilty for the parts of his life that were already complicated. When he was travelling or exhausted, you simply kissed his forehead and told him to rest. When his schedule changed last minute, you never got upset, never made him sit through a tense silence or apologise for the same thing five different ways, you just shrugged with that soft little smile of yours and said, “We’ll figure it out.”

You weren’t just low-maintenance, you were selfless, unshakeably chill in a way that made loving you feel almost effortless. You understood the pressure, the travel, the media, the endless demands on his time, and you never tried to add yourself to the list of things he needed to manage.

#max verstappen.#mv33 fic recs.#🏁🏎formula 1.#📚 to be read.

rinkmuse

HELOOOOO, OMG I LOVEEEEEEE YOUR FICS!!!😭😭😭💕💕💕 can i pretty please request fic where mack's gallery on his phone is full of reader's photos and videos, and when fans and the team know they teased him so hard hehe, okey thats it, THANK YOUUU IN ADVANCE!!

in every photo

pairing: macklin celebrini x reader summary: when his teammates find out his whole gallery is you warnings: fluff

wc: 1.2k

the locker room is loud after the game in a way it is after a win -- music blasting, equipment clattering into stalls, voices overlapping as teammates replay moments from the ice. the cold from the rink still clings faintly to everyone's skin, and the air smells like sweat, tape, and damp gear.

mack sits at his stall, elbows resting on his knees. his hair is still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the ends, and the flushed colour across his cheeks hasn't faded yet.

his phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances down automatically, unlocking the screen. the moment he sees your name at the top the notification, something in his expression softens.

daydreaming-shadow

AKSLDLSJ THIS IS TOO CUTE FOR WORDS AND LOWKEY GOALS 😭

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

wannabehockeygf

Macklins gf getting a kitten. And suddnely he is beffing with a 5 month old kitten about who gets to rest on her lap (it was Macklins spot first but the kitten has now claimed it).

you're curled into the corner of the couch with your laptop balanced on the armrest, tea gone cold beside you, and a warm little weight has spread itself across your thighs like it owns the deed to them. the kitten—five months of orange fur and pure evil disguised as something soft—has made your lap its kingdom, paws kneading your stomach through your hoodie, purring so loud it vibrates through your ribs. you've been trapped here for forty minutes because moving would disturb the royal highness, and anyway, it's kind of nice, the sleepy weight of him, the way his tiny pink nose twitches when you scroll.

then the door clicks.

macklin's sneakers thud against the entry mat, and you hear his keys hit the bowl, then his bag sliding to the floor. "baby?" he calls out, voice already going soft and hopeful, that particular lilt he gets when he's been away for a few hours and needs his fix. his footsteps hurry down the hall, messy hair probably windswept from the walk, cheeks already blooming pink with anticipation of his spot—his spot, the one he's claimed since the first week you started dating, the one where he fits between your legs with his head on your chest and whines about his day until you scratch his scalp.

he rounds the corner and stops dead.

you watch his face cycle through emotions like a slot machine: joy at seeing you, confusion at the orange lump occupying his territory, hurt when he realizes what he's witnessing, and finally, betrayal. pure, gut-wrenching betrayal. his lower lip actually wobbles.

"oh," he says, small and broken. he stands there in his oversized sweater, sleeves pulled over his hands, green eyes wide and wounded. "um. hi."

"hi, macky," you say, trying not to smile. the kitten opens one amber eye, assesses macklin as a non-threat, and closes it again, settling deeper into your lap with a possessive flex of tiny claws.

macklin hovers. he shifts his weight from foot to foot, rosy splotches darkening across his cheekbones. "i thought… i thought maybe we could watch something?" he tries, voice getting higher, more pathetic. "and i could… you know. rest? for a minute?"

"you can sit," you offer, patting the cushion beside you.

he looks at the six inches of space next to you, then at the kitten, then back at your lap. his expression crumples. "but that's my place," he whispers, actually whispering, like saying it too loud might make it more true. "i was here first. before… before him."

the kitten yawns, showing needle teeth, and stretches one paw toward macklin in what might be a greeting but looks more like a dismissal.

macklin's hands flutter to his chest, clutching his sweater. "he's looking at me," he says, panicked. "he's mocking me."

"he's a baby, mack. he doesn't know."

"he knows," macklin insists, stepping closer with the caution of someone approaching a wild animal. he kneels by the couch, putting him at eye level with the kitten, and suddenly they're staring at each other, nose to nose. macklin's eyes narrow. the kitten's tail flicks.

"this is unfair," macklin informs the cat, serious as a heart attack, cheeks puffing out with indignation. "i have seniority. i have history. she let me cry on her lap when i failed my driving test. what have you done? you knock pens off tables."

the kitten purrs louder, a rumbling claim of dominance.

macklin makes a noise like he's been physically struck, a high wounded whimper in the back of his throat. he looks up at you, lower lip jutting out, eyes glossy with genuine distress. "baby," he breathes, reaching out to touch your knee, his fingers brushing the orange fur there. "tell him. tell him this is my spot. please?"

you run your hand over the kitten's soft head, and macklin tracks the movement with naked longing, his own head instinctively tilting into the empty air, seeking the touch that isn't for him. he looks so lost, kneeling there on the carpet, hair sticking up, sweater swallowing him whole, that you finally relent and extend your other hand to cup his cheek. he melts instantly, nuzzling into your palm with a shaky exhale, eyes fluttering shut.

"you're both ridiculous," you murmur.

"me?" he squeaks, offended. "i'm not the one conducting a hostile takeover of your lap. i just… i just want to be near you. is that so wrong?" he opens his eyes and glares at the kitten, though it's undermined by how his bottom lip is currently being abused by his teeth. "he doesn't even appreciate you. he doesn't know about your day. he can't tell you you're pretty when you're grading papers."

the kitten kneads your stomach harder, claiming territory.

macklin gasps. "did you see that? he's asserting dominance. he's trying to replace me."

"no one's replacing you," you soothe, scratching behind his ear the way you know turns him into putty. he leans into it, whimpering softly, but keeps one suspicious eye on the sleeping cat.

"can he at least… move over?" macklin asks, so hopeful it hurts. "just a little? so i can fit? i'm smaller than i look. i can curl up real small. like a cinnamon roll."

"he's sleeping."

"i can sleep too!" he insists, then immediately contradicts himself by adding, "but i need my head on your chest or i get scared. and he doesn't even have a job. he doesn't pay rent."

you try to shift, and the kitten lets out a tiny warning chirp, claws pricking through the fabric. macklin sees it and deflates, shoulders slumping. "he wins," he mumbles, defeated. "the baby wins."

he stays kneeling there, though, chin resting on the couch cushion, green eyes big and sad, watching you with such naked adoration that you finally hook your foot around his ankle and tug. "come here."

he scrambles up, hope rekindling, and you manage to arrange the kitten on your left thigh—protested with a grumpy mrrp—and pull macklin down to your right side. he goes willingly, boneless, immediately burrowing his face into your neck with a shuddering sigh of relief. his arm snakes around your waist, possessive, trying to reclaim what he can.

"this isn't the same," he mutters against your collarbone, but he's already relaxing, one leg throwing over yours to anchor himself, rosy cheek pressed to your shoulder. he glares at the kitten, who has opened both eyes to stare at him with feline judgment. "you're on probation," he whispers to the cat.

the kitten blinks slowly, then turns and licks macklin's hand where it rests on your stomach.

macklin freezes. his eyes go wide. "oh," he says, voice cracking. "he… he kissed me?"

"he likes you."

macklin's face does something complicated, pride and confusion warring with residual jealousy. he hesitates, then very carefully, very gently, pets the top of the kitten's head with one finger. the purr revs up again.

"okay," macklin decides, grudging, nestling closer to you until he's half on top of you both, a warm heavy weight of needy boy and territorial affection. "he can stay. but i'm the big spoon. and when he moves, i'm taking my spot back. and you're telling him i'm your favourite."

"you're my favourite," you agree, kissing his forehead.

he hums, satisfied, and closes his eyes, still pouting slightly, but one hand keeps petting the kitten, and the other grips your hip like he's never letting go. "stupid baby," he mumbles, but it's fond, and he falls asleep sandwiched between you and his tiny rival, rosy cheeked and finally, finally home.

daydreaming-shadow

I AM A PUDDLE BC 1. SOFT, NEEDY MACK AND 2. KITTEN!!!!! 🥹

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

wannabehockeygf

mack going to practice or like a development camp where he needs to bring a lunch and the team teases him cause reader always packs him the best homemade healthy snacks

macklin shows up to practice with a navy lunch kit dangling from one hand, looking like a camp counsellor who missed the memo that professional athletes just hit the smoothie bar. the locker room door barely swings shut before someone whistles.

“ooh, homemade again?” william grins, jutting his chin toward the lunch kit. “girlfriend pack another five-course meal?” mack’s cheeks blotch immediately, rosiness blooming right down to his throat, but he can’t stop smiling as he slides onto the bench and unzips the bag.

“leave him alone,” tyler calls from across the room, lacing his skates. “he’s the only one eating real food.” he nods toward the spread macklin starts laying out on his lap: two containers of veggie pasta salad with grilled chicken, a perfect little stack of quinoa crackers, carrot sticks wrapped in parchment, and a mason jar of lemon-turmeric juice with a handwritten note taped to it that reads drink me first <3.

“bro,” colin groans, “she even gave you instructions?”

mack shrugs, unabashedly proud. “she says it helps with inflammation.” he unscrews the jar obediently and downs half in one go, grimacing at the bitter tang while the team hoots. “look at him, hydrated and disciplined,” william cackles. “meanwhile i’m over here with a gas station sandwich.”

after drills, while everyone else slumps in the stands inhaling protein bars, mack plops down with his cooler and pops the lid off the thermos the pasta is in. steam rises, carrying fragrant basil, garlic, roasted peppers—the works.

“dude, that smells like a restaurant,” tyler says, leaning over for a closer sniff. “she make that this morning?”

mack nods, twirling noodles on his fork, eyes dreamy. “woke up early to finish the dressing. said she didn’t want me crashing halfway through scrimmage.”

colin snorts. “she got you on a meal plan like you’re five.”

“nah,” mack protests, cheeks hot but grin unwavering, “i just get hungry. besides, she likes cooking, and i… like eating.” as if to prove it, he demolishes half the container in a minute flat, moaning softly at the flavour. the mocking dies down because, frankly, everyone’s jealous.

coach wanders by and raises an eyebrow at the spread. “gonna share with the class?” he asks dryly. mack clutches the bag closer. “she packed it for me,” he says with adorable stubbornness, then adds, “but she made extra granola bars if anyone wants.” the offer sparks immediate interest, and soon the guys are passing around perfectly wrapped oat bars studded with dark chocolate and dried cherries. even coach takes one.

“tell her these are better than our nutritionist’s,” he mutters, biting in. mack beams, phone already in hand to snap a photo of the empty wrappers. a text follows: they love you. thank you for making sure i don’t die.

by the time scrimmage ends, mack’s back in the locker room polishing off the last of the roasted chickpeas, licking seasoning from his fingers while the rest of the squad glares good-naturedly over their bland arena food.

“you know we’re gonna start charging you snack tax,” william warns. “at least let us put in orders.”

mack just laughs, stuffing the lunch kit back into his bag, pride radiating off him. “i’ll ask her,” he promises, utterly content knowing he’s heading home to the woman who keeps him fuelled and spoiled, and yes, he’ll gush about the teasing because he secretly loves it.

daydreaming-shadow

I LOVE THISSS!!! "you know we’re gonna start charging you snack tax,” “at least let us put in orders." The way they went from chirping Mack to asking if they can put in orders for food with his girlfriend 🥹😂

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

lqvesoph

Off Season Trouble || MC71

macklin celebrini x bu!reader

summary: You‘re attending BU and your boyfriend has come back into town just in time for Marmon which ends with a little tipsy Macklin

warnings: underaged drinking ig but cmon he‘s canadian…

masterlist

The music is loud enough that it sort of blurs into the background, bass thumping through the floorboards of the frat house while sunlight pours in through half-open windows. It’s too early in the day for this level of chaos, but it’s Boston Marathon Monday, which means nobody cares.

You’re wedged between your friends in the kitchen, red cup in hand, laughing at something that probably isn’t even that funny anymore. The air smells like cheap beer and sweat and something citrusy someone spilled twenty minutes ago. Every few seconds, someone shouts, someone stumbles, someone starts chanting for no reason.

Mack had been fine earlier.

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.

cherrybrini

identity fraud | will smith social media au

pairing: will smith x fem podcaster reader

big podcaster y/n thought she was getting will smith on the podcast... who is will smith hockey and is that his government name?

yourusername

liked by macklincelebrini, emmachamberlain and 603,594 others

yourusername: last min podcast ep being recorded todayyyyyyyy, get ready for some pure nonsense

view all comments

user1 i love gal but there's no way it's actually will smith right?

yourusername you doubt my ability to serve?

user2 tell them queen !

macklincelebrini @_willsmith2 you are FUCKED buddy

_willsmith2 shushing you

_willsmith2 im cradling my fragile ego

macklincelebrini oh boy is she in for some disappointment - you hate to see it

_willsmith2 'will we've got something great for you to do while you're injured' i'm NEVER listening to PR again

macklincelebrini well this could be your one and only chance!

_willsmith2 SHUSHING YOU EVEN LOUDER

user3 oh boy

user4 will smith hockey you are dear to me but this is incredibly funny

user5 this might push him to the edge

macklincelebrini he's already there

user6 the way @yourusername is blissfully unaware that she's interviewing will smith hockey today and that she's also ruined his life

yourusername what is all this yapping

yourusername who is 'will smith hockey' ?

_willsmith2 brb killing myself

yourusername HELLO ?

_willsmith2 i am the will smith who plays hockey who is also in an uber to your studio right now

yourusername ???

yourusername so i just watched that bum ass netflix movie for no fucking reason

yourusername and need to google your lore?

_willsmith2 i mean you'll have the literal source of all lore with you shortly?

yourusername what the hell sure

_willsmith2

liked by macklincelebrini, eklund_72 and 203,483 others

_willsmith2: fresh prince of san jose or whatever the pretty girl wants to call me

view all comments

user11 bro has unlocked the cat subplot of the soft launch

user12 can it be a soft launch if he basically proclaimed his love for her on her podcast?

user13 it was borderline embarrassing

user14 he's lucky she found it charming i guess

_willsmith2 you guys finished yet?

macklincelebrini wait let me join in

_willsmith2 i think you've done enough buddy

user15 he's getting whacked from all angles

user16 toff isn't here yet either

yourusername that's like such a good nickname, whoever gave it to you must be really funny

_willsmith2 and pretty!

_willsmith2 the prettiest actually

yourusername so i'm just a pretty face to you huh?

_willsmith2 NO

_willsmith2 I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

yourusername so i'm ugly, that's what you're saying?

_willsmith2 NUH UH

yourusername you hate me :(

_willsmith2 please you're really stressing me out

yourusername fine!

yourusername i'll let you cuddle tonight, even if you don't think i'm pretty

_willsmith2 yo i'm gonna fucking throw up PLEASE

user17 jesus christ

user18 and i thought the podcast would be the most embarrassing thing this month but he outdid himself!

tofff73 @yourusername we're keeping you this is so much fun

yourusername who gave you that authority old man ???

_willsmith2 finally someone else is being bullied

yourusername it's important you know i'm bullying toff, but i was flirting with you

_willsmith2 oh!

yourusername

liked by tofff73, macklincelebrini and 603,586 others

tagged: _willsmith2

yourusername: never so glad to be a victim of someone's identity fraud

view all comments

user20 the way he will like never ever live this down

user21 if they get married this is being mentioned for sure

_willsmith2 *when

user22 girl it's been a month

_willsmith2 and yall wonder why loverboys are going extinct

tofff73 it should be illegal to be this fucking gross, this kid can't stop breaking laws

_willsmith2 IT WASN'T ME IT WAS PR

sanjosesharks why are you saying fuck me for ?

yourusername it worked out this time but yall set him up for real

sanjosesharks YOU COULD'VE GOOGLED WHO EMAILED YOU BEFORE AGREEING

yourusername i thought this was a corporate account why are you arguing back ???

sanjosesharks we will in cases of SLANDER

tofff73 so many laws being broken

yourusername you should've attached a picture of will to the email and i defo would've googled yall

_willsmith2 oh! yay :)

macklincelebrini you guys won't forget about me right?

macklincelebrini RIGHT?

yourusername never! you're like our little stray cat

macklincelebrini excuse me! i am TOUGH! i got into a fight for will :(

yourusername and you also asked to cuddle with us last night

_willsmith2 tbf i didn't see you saying no

user23 she's getting the full willmack experience omg

user24 green with jealousy xx

yourusername you shouldn't be because they both drool in their sleep

_willsmith2 drooling over you? ... your pretty face?

macklincelebrini i ain't got an excuse you guys are just comfy

yourusername right!

note: not pictured here: me whenever i mention will to my parents who don't follow hockey at all and they deadass think i'm talking about will smith

#will smith.#ws2 fic recs.#smau.#⛸️🏒nhl.#no but this was me when i saw will smith in the nhl tag and was like WILL SMITH??? 😭

wcters

It’s Kismet, Babe

pairing: macklin celebrini x fem!singer!reader

summary: no one expected the extravagant and extrovert singer would be with a shy, quiet hockey player

warnings/contents: speculation, vape photos, faceclaim is romy mars

author's note: i love audrey hobert and want to go to her concert but it’s sooooo expensive

#I LOVED THIS SO MUCH 🥹#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#smau.#⛸️🏒nhl.

willmackshipper

𝐦𝐜𝟕𝟏 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐝

request -> Have you seen Will and Mack on that podcast tigether? Could you do a similar scenario where they are noth on a podcast together and either a) Will is exposing Maxk and his gf and their funny moments or b) Mack exposing thr same anout Will and his gf.

Macklin Celebrini Masterlist

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.#fav.

willmackshipper

𝐰𝐬𝟐 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧

Request -> he loves dogs so maybe she meets his dog when he's walking his dog and she's a dog lover and his dog loves her or just anything that involves his dog introducing them

Will Smith Masterlist

daydreaming-shadow

THIS WAS SO CUTEEE!!! Bless wingman, Rigney 🥹

#will smith.#ws2 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.

habsbabe

Canadian Kids - Macklin Celebrini

Pairing: Macklin Celebrini x PWHL!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Kissing, cursing

Summary: Two Canadian hockey superstars, constantly thrown together for international tournaments, charity galas, and media sessions.

daydreaming-shadow

I AM A PUDDLE FOR THIS!!! 🥹

#macklin celebrini.#mc71 fic recs.#⛸️🏒nhl.

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