#and daniel is pathetically still working there after all this time and he sees max and wants to cry

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

My Girls - Max Verstappen

<word count - 4,848>

"Y/N, liefde, go. We will be fine," Max said, trying to push you out of the door for your first day back at work since Aleta had been born. You hadn't left her before, and it wasn't like you didn't trust Max because he was a brilliant dad, but you were already getting separation anxiety. 

Christian had told you to take all the time you needed, but you decided it was time to go back or else you didn't think you ever would. Max tried to get you to you to quit your job and become a full time mum, but you didn't want to and he respected that.

As he shoved you out of the door, you turned over your shoulder to see your beautiful baby girl bouncing in her carrier with a gummy smile on her face. You knew she'd be fine, but you didn't want to go. "You're going to be late," he tried to convince you as you stood on your doorstep.

"I know, but one more cuddle won't hurt," you said, trying to lunge past him to no avail. Max grabbed you and picked you up, walking you down the stone path to the car. All three of you had gone back to the UK so that you could carry on working, and Max would still be flying around for races. 

"I love you, and I will see you later," he smiled, kissing you quickly and opening the car door. Begrudgingly, you clambered into the car, started the engine, and pulled away before you had the chance to turn back. 

Max sighed once you had gone, glad that you were getting out of the house for a bit. When he was sure you had definitely gone and not turned around, he headed back in the house to check on little Aleta, who was still bouncing about in her carrier. 

"OK princess, we have some work to do," he said, picking up the infant as she flashed him a toothless smile and gargled happily. It shocked him how much he loved the little person, and he didn't believe it when people said that you love your child in a special way. Now, nothing seemed truer and purer that the bond between parent and child. 

—

Walking through the doors to the Red Bull HQ, you instantly felt at home in the building. The people smiled fondly at you, and almost everyone asked how Aleta was doing and you proudly showed off pictures of her.

It took you around an hour to actually get to your office, but you were glad to be back once you had settled in. You walked through the door to see a huge bouquet of pink flowers perched brightly on your desk. 

The note read, 'Dear Y/N, we hope you've enjoyed your time off and are well rested, and we all hope to meet Aleta sometime soon! It is brilliant to have you back - Christian and the Team'. By the side of the flowers, was a framed photo of you, Max and Aleta that you had taken a few days after she was born. 

A few tears stung your eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and you pushed the frame to the side of your computer so that you could always look at it and have it there. 

You smiled at the note and the kind gesture, but you quickly got back to work, planning some challenges for Max, Checo and (new recruit) Daniel to do before the opener in Bahrain. As you were brainstorming, there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" you shouted, expecting it to be Christian since he said he would pop over to your office at some point in the day. "Hi," someone curtly said, closing the door behind them. That voice was familiar - and painfully so. 

"Get out, Scott," you bitterly spat, glaring at him over the top of your computer screen. The sight of him made your blood boil. You didn't feel hurt anymore, because Max had patched up the cracks that he had left in your heart. You just felt anger towards the pathetic excuse of a man that stood before you. 

"Can we just talk?" he sheepishly asked, approaching the desk and lifting the photo frame from it. Before you could snatch it off him, he got a good look at the perfect daughter he had abandoned. "Don't you dare," you scoffed, plucking the picture out of his hand and setting back on your desk. 

"Can I see her?" he asked, and the question just pissed you off more. 

"You lost the right to see her the moment you told me to get rid of her," you coldly said, fidgeting in your seat. You couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't hit him if he came nearer, so you stayed in your seat. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, and you found it rather amusing. 

Lifting your hand up to scratch your head, Scott spotted the ring on your finger glinting under the office lights. "So you're marrying him?" he half scoffed half asked, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. 

"Yes, I am," you dead-panned, waiting for someone to walk by so you could send them to Christian's office. "How the hell could you marry him after what? 5 months?" 

"Well 5 months was a hell of enough time to realise that he's a whole lot better than you could ever be. Max cared about me when you didn't have any fucks to give. Max took care of me when you left me by myself. Max loves our child more than you ever could," you yelled at him, losing your cool completely. 

"How do you know when you won't give me a chance!" He shouted back, squaring up to you as you got out of your chair. "You didn't give me a chance, did you Scott? You told me to get rid of her and forget about it," you spat back at him.

"This is me giving you a chance, Y/N," he said, and you couldn't believe the audacity of him. He decided to show up, nearly a year too late to try and right the wrong he had made. But, no apology would ever be enough. "You can stick your chance up your ass," you scoffed, seeing people gathered outside of the door as they had opened it to see what was happening.

"He isn't her father," 

"Max was there for the scans, through the morning sickness, through the moodwings, through the late nights. Where were you?" you asked as he realised that people were there and listening. Scott stood there, wide eyed in surprise. 

"Where the fuck were you, Scott?" you asked again as more people appeared in the doorway. Before he had chance to answer, Christian walked through the door. "Scott, my office, now," he instructed, and Scott scampered away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

"Y/N, someone will come for you shortly," your boss said, ushering all of the people away from your office. You felt bad for letting that unfold how it did in an office environment, but there was no chance you were letting him speak to you like that.

While you waited for someone to come through, you tried to focus on your work, but your mind always wandered to Scott and how much of a dick he was. After around half an hour, Christian's secretary came through and told you to go to his office. 

There was no point in knocking as the door was already open and he waved you in. "So, tell me what happened,". You smirked in your head - this was going to be good. 

"So, I was doing my work, Scott knocked and I told him to come in because I didn't know who it was. He asked if we could talk, and I said no because this is not the right place to do that. He saw that I was engaged and asked how I could marry Max after the short time we have had together. He asked if he could see Aleta, I said no, then he asked for a chance and I started arguing with him. I am at fault, because I did argue back instead of being mature, so I apologise for that," you said. 

"I shouldn't have allowed him to rile me up like that, especially at work, and I am so sorry you are having to waste your time doing this," you apologised, a small part of you terrified that you were going to lose your job. 

"To start, thank you for being honest with me, it makes this a lot easier. Secondly, I appreciate that this situation is difficult, but that is not a reason to have fights like that in the office. However, we have decided to let Scott go," he said, and you worried even more. 

Even if Max did want you to stay at home, getting fired was not the way he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be on your terms. "But we can't cope without you and this wasn't really your fault, so you're safe... For now," he joked, and you let out the air you had been holding in your lungs as he spoke. 

"Thank you, Christian. Again, I am really sorry," you said, standing and going back to your office. The rest of the day went by without a hitch, and you were free to drive home. 

—

"Right Leta, do we think mommy wants steak or chicken?" Max cooed at the infant as she sat in her carrier on the floor of the butchers. Of course, she didn't understand, but she gargled along just because it was her daddy talking to her.

"Yeah, I think she'd prefer steak too," he said, and the burly butcher behind the counter couldn't help but smile warmly at the pair. "Which steak are you thinking of?" he asked as Max turned to face him. "The best ones you have," he said. 

Max paid for the steaks and headed to their next destination. Now, this one was a bit of a peculiar stop, but you had burned up your entire store of them and the evening wouldn't be complete without at least one. 

When he walked into the store, he was washed over with a wave of different scents of floras. He looked around, each section labelled something different. After sniffing pretty much every candle the store had to offer while also being asked by the staff of he needed help multiple times, he was torn between two different scents.

"OK schatje, what do we think of fresh cotton?" he asked, holding the candle in front of Aleta. Did she have a clue what was going on? Absolutely not, but she was just smiling because Max was pulling funny faces at her. 

"I like your thinking, Lita, I like it," he said, picking up the rose scented candle and giving it a sniff. He held it out to Aleta, and she was just smiling because it was pink. "Yeah, I think this is the one as well. Good choice," he smiled at her, thinking he was going crazy since he was talking to a baby like she could understand.

He finally had everything he needed, and took Aleta home so that she could take a nap. Thankfully, she was a really easy baby when it came to falling asleep, so that didn't take longer than 10 minutes as she was tired after her big day.

Now, it was time for him to get to work. As the potatoes were boiling, Max headed upstairs and got extra dressed up in a suit to really make the night special. 

Just as everything was finished, he heard your car pull up onto the driveway and he stood in position by the dinner table. You trudged up the driveway with the bouquet of flowers from Christian in hand.

When you opened the door, you were greeted with the sight of the kitchen, lit up with candles and the table was all set up nicely. Walking through, you spotted Max stood there, looking handsome as ever. "What's this?" you asked, taking in the scene around you. 

"Nothing, I felt like treating you tonight," he smirked, walking towards you and taking the flowers off of you, "Who are these from?"

"Christian," you said.

"I'll put these in a vase," he said, taking them over to the sink to put some water in the container. "I'll go and get changed, give me a minute," you said. 

"No, you look perfect," 

"Max, I want to blend in," you laughed, running upstairs and dashing to the wardrobe. You flung your work clothes off and picked out the fanciest dress that you had here. You had more back in Monaco, but you brought a few home with you. 

You walked back downstairs, the soft pink fabric pooling around your feet. "You looked amazing before, but wow," he stuttered, pulling your chair out for you. 

"Thank you, darling," you smiled, sitting down and getting comfy at the table. Max brought out the first course before taking a seat himself. "So, how was work?" he asked, desperate to know how your first day had gone.

"Well, I missed the two of you so much it was unreal. I've planned some very fun things for you, Checo and Daniel to do, so look forward to that. Oh, and Scott got fired," you added quickly on the end. You really didn't want to tell him about the argument because you knew he'd get annoyed. 

"What did he do?" Max asked. Scott was a very good mechanic, to be fair to him, so there must have been some reason that he was fired, and he had a feeling you were involved. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to hide the obvious fact that you were lying. 

"He was a perfectly good mechanic, he must have done something wrong," Max explained, and you could tell by the smug look on his face that he knew he was right. "We just had an argument, it was nothing," you shrugged, hoping he would move past it.

"Has to have been more than nothing if he got fired for it," Max pressed, waiting for you to tell him everything. He knew you would, it would just take a bit of pushing. "He was just asking about Aleta," you told him.

"What did you say?" 

"He asked about Aleta and he said he wanted to see her, I told him not a chance, then he saw we were engaged and went batshit nuts," you deadpanned, hoping he wouldn't ask about how he went nuts. Max would be pissed off. 

"What do you mean nuts?" he asked. Well there goes those hopes. 

"He started banging on about how you aren't her real father and this and that," you said, and you sheepishly watched as his face contorted into anger, near on rage. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" he half-shouted, before quietening down when he remembered that Aleta was upstairs asleep. 

"Max, it's fine, we won't have to see him ever again," you tried to calm him down, but you could see his blood was boiling as much as yours was when Scott came in and yelled at you. "He doesn't have the right to say those things to you," he seethed, putting his knife and fork down. 

"Darling, don't worry about it, really," you said, as it looked like Max was accepting the fact that there was nothing he could do that wouldn't damage his career. "I just can't believe the nerve," he said, resuming his food. 

Finally, the two of you had finished dinner completely and you were just gazing at each other across the table. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate it," you smiled, looking into his eyes. So blue and so calming. 

"You deserve a hell of a lot more, but this is the best we can do with a newborn," he replied, taking your hand from across the table. You didn't exchange any words, Max just stood up, and you followed suit. 

He led you over to the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Yes, it was sudden, but that didn't mean it was unwelcomed. "I have missed this," he mumbled against your lips, before capturing your lips with his. 

You tangled your hands in his hair as the kiss deepend. Your hands snaked to the top buttons of his shirt as you fiddled with them. Just as you had undone the top few buttons, a loud cry sounded out through the house. 

"For fucks sake," you mumbled, but your small amount of anger was quickly dissipated and replaced by a need to take care of your daughter. You clambered off Max's lap and up the stairs, into Aleta's room. 

"Hey, sweetheart," you softly said to your crying daughter as you scooped her up in your arms. Pressing her to your chest and bouncing back and forth with her. "Shhh," you shushed the infant, hoping she would calm down and you could take her downstairs. 

"You can't be hungry," you sighed, trying to imagine what could be the matter with her. You checked her nappy, but that wasn't the issue. Wandering over to the rocking chair in the corner, you sat down and gently rocked back and forth. 

"I know sweetheart, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back as she slowly quietened down. After around 10 minutes, it seemed like she had calmed down and she had decided that she didn't want to scream the house down.

"Oh Leta you can be a handful," you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the top of her head. She was sprouting some fine, blonde hairs and you could have easily believed she was Max's with her hair and big blue eyes. 

As you rocked back and forth in the chair, you felt your eyelids become droopy and heavy as the weight of Aleta on your chest relaxed you. "I'll just nap for twenty minutes," you mumbled, letting sleep carry you away to a peaceful numbness. 

Max sat downstairs, missing the feeling of his lips on yours and the feeling of your hands running through his hair. The crying had stopped a while ago, so he didn't understand why you hadn't come downstairs yet. 

He figured you were just having a snuggle with her as it was your favourite way to spend time. Max had allowed you a few more minutes, but he wasn't hearing any signs of you coming back. He skipped up the stairs and quietly opened the door.

The only light from the room was the small, warmly coloured light that the lamp next to the rocking chair emitted. The light cast a shadow onto the figure of you, with Aleta snuggled up to your chest as the chair still lightly rocked. 

He couldn't help but smile to himself, the sight of pure perfection itself sitting right in front of him. You looked like something right out of a fairy tale: his queen holding the heir to the throne of their carefully crafted kingdom. 

You and Aleta were everything to him, and he would give up every championship, every podium, every trophy for the pair of you. You were his girls, and you were perfect. 

Checking the time, he realised that it was already half past eight, so he accepted that you were very tired as you had had a long day. "Liefde, come on," he gently shook you awake, careful not to wake up Aleta in the process. 

"Huh?" you sleepily murmured, not fully able to see Max until your eyes had adjusted. Aleta was pulled away from your chest, leaving your skin exposed to the cold of the room. "Max, give her back," you whined, closing your eyes and holding your arms out for her to be put back in. 

"Come on, you're coming to bed," he said as he made sure Aleta was safe and comfortable in her cot. "But I was comfy," you complained to him. You had to stifle a squeal of surprise as Max hoisted you up into his arms and walked you across the hall to the bedroom. 

He dropped you down on the bed, walking over to the wardrobe and plucking out one of his shirts from the hangers. "Can I take this off?" he asked, even though he knew the answer was going to be yes. You nodded, before the entirety of your dress was slipped over your head and thrown to the floor.

The soft t-shirt replaced it, and you wasted no time shuffling under the covers and shifting into a comfortable position. Max was wrapping his arms around you in no time, hands mindlessly trailing up and down your stomach. 

A part of him had been wanting to ask if you were open to a second child with him, maybe in two or so years time. He thought he'd let you get settled in married life combined with parenthood before he sprang that on you. 

He had already asked you two life changing questions when Aleta was born, so he thought he'd hold off for a while. 

—

Today was the big day. The day you had been waiting for your whole life. The day you would marry the man of your dreams. 

It had been exactly a year and three months since Aleta had been born and Max had proposed to you in the hospital. You had created so many memories together, and you hoped to create many more in the years to come. 

For now, it was time to focus on the moment and embrace the space you were in. As you stood at the altar, looking as stunning as ever in your flowing white gown, you gazed around the room to see everyone you loved, all gathered in one place. 

Aleta had done a brilliant job of being flower girl with Max's sister Victoria, and you couldn't help but cry a few happy tears as you watched on from the doors. Once all of your bridesmaids were stood in their places, it was your turn in the spotlight.

Max was stood there, eyes glazed over with tears of joy, looking incredibly handsome in his suit. It was like a light flashed before your eyes and you were there, his hands in yours as the officiary spoke unintelligible words to you. 

The noise was cancelled out by the bubble that entrapped you and Max. The pair of you had been through a lot, and now, you could leave all of that behind and carry on with life, together. Side by side. 

"And now, we will allow these two to share their vows with each other. Max, would you like to start?" Max nodded, and shifted where he stood.

"Y/N, liefde, the love of my life. I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for letting me into your life when you were most vulnerable, and it made a lot more sense to push me away rather than let me in. Thank you for letting me love you, because it is the thing that keeps me going when times get tough," he started, and tears were already forming in your eyes. 

"Finally, thank you for letting me be a father to Aleta, because it is the best thing I will ever get the honour of doing. I am so grateful that I am able to be stood here with you, because I may be a racing driver professionally, but above all of that, I am a husband and a father to the most beautiful girls in the world. It doesn't matter how many trophies I get, because none of them will mean half as much to me as the two of you do."

Now the tears were flowing like salty waterfalls, and you didn't want to go next. "You just had to make it hard for me, didn't you?" you laughed, the audience chuckling along with you. "Max. Being stood here with you today was something I didn't think would ever be possible. I was alone, I was scared, I was struggling. But then, there you were, like a beacon through the darkness that lit up my world,"

It was Max's turn to cry now, and you saw a few tears slip down his rosy cheeks, "You were there for me when nobody else was, and you gave me everything I have ever dreamed of and more. There is no one else that I would want to raise Aleta side by side with, and I will forever be in your debt for that. You are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbows, my sunshine on a rainy day, my everything. I know that, with you, I can do anything and everything," 

There was not a dry eye in the house, and you were finally pronounced husband and wife. He held you as the pair of you skipped down the aisle, the world beneath your feet. 

As you waited behind the doors to the reception room for your introduction as Mr and Mrs Verstappen, Max took your hand. "This is the second best day of my life," he smiled, squeezing your hand lovingly. "And the first?" you asked, but you knew what it was. It was the same for you as well.  

"The day our angel was born," he smirked as the music started and everyone was cheering. You clapped along with them, taking your spot on the dancefloor. 'Can't Take my Eyes off You' by Frankie Valli sounded out through the hall.

He held his hands on your waist as your arms linked around his neck. As you swayed to the song, your friends and family shed a few more tears of happiness at the sight of you, and there was no wiping the ecstatic smile off your face. 

Max had an equally goofy smile plastered on his lips, and he never wanted to let go of you. "Ik hou van je," he lightly laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I love you too," you smiled against him. Max let you go and spun you around, your dress and hair fanning out all around you. As you were brought back to him, he detached himself from you and quickly dashed over to Victoria, who was holding Aleta. 

He plucked your daughter out of his sister's arms and brought her over to you. He laced his other arm around you as you swayed with Aleta, who was giggling along happily. "I needed both of my girls here," he said, making your heart swell even more - despite the fact that you didn't think that was possible. 

Aleta was looking all pretty in her little pink dress and her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. She was making some happy noises as the three of you twirled around the dancefloor. 

You took her off Max, wanting to dance with your daughter. Holding Aleta in one arm, Max spun the pair of you with the other as she let out fits of high pitched giggles. As if life couldn't get any more perfect. 

Max brought you back into his chest, Aleta resting comfortably on your hip. She had been making sounds of squeals and laughs, but then she said something.  Max looked at you for a moment, confirming that he had actually heard what you had. 

You nodded at him wearily, not completely sure. "Dadda," she said, louder this time. 

"I'm not hearing things, am I?" you asked, looking at Max's dumbfounded expression with a stupid happy smile on your face. "I don't think I-"

"Dadda," she repeated, but with a lot more confidence. 

"Oh my god I am so proud of you, my clever girl!" Max exclaimed, pulling the pair of you closer to him and kissing all over her face. She kept on repeating the word, and it sounded better each time. "That's me," Max cried, his voice cracking.

"Yes it is, darling," you responded. For the rest of the night, Aleta was showing off how clever she was to everyone in the reception. As the night drew on, people eventually started retiring to their rooms, and Aleta had gone to bed a few hours ago since it had been a long night for her. 

"You tired?" Max whispered in your ear, lazily slinging an arm around your waist. Less people were dancing, and more people were sitting around, idly sipping at the remnants of their drinks.  "Yeah," you confirmed, resting a tired head on his shoulder. 

"I hope you're not too tired," he smirked, gripping you tighter. 

"I think we could head back to our room early," you mumbled, before making your rounds and saying goodbyes. As soon as you could, the pair of you ran out, hand in hand, skipped up the stairs, and stumbled into your hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other. 

Now, you officially had forever ahead of you, and you had your favourite people all around you. 

A/N - Do we want a bit more? Because I have more planned...

Tag List! (The wonderful people who commented on the last part <;3) @inkfablesandstories @luckyladycreator2 @rd14 @basicallyherondale @purplephantomwolf @halaxxxx @giffywiffy3408 @hauntingtherosebush @rosalysaoirse @mehrmonga @itsmytimetoodream @aundercover @glow-ish @hc-dutch @jorbridgerton1

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#f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #fluff #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagines

[sysakiddo]

I finally edited chapter 6 of diplomacy au y'all! I struggled a bit with a burnout after getting my degree in january lol but hopefully it won't take so long for another chapter to appear!!

ao3, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

“It's like watching the most awkward first date happen in front of your eyes. And you know, of course, that they are not going to fuck.” Max says after taking a long sip of his third gin and tonic. 

Everybody who hears him laughs, already watching the couple standing by the bar. Charles tugs his ear in what seems to be a nervous tick while Sebastian casually leans on the chair, even though he is everything but casual. He watches every move of the man in front of him, shuffling his feet a bit when Charles licks his lips after a sip of his skinny bitch. 

“Pathetic,” Alex laughs, not unkindly. “It seems to me like there is no salvation for them,” George adds, leaning forward on the couch they all squeezed on to see the show in front of them. 

Anne doesn't feel like this is something she can ask them about. That is not to say that she is not terribly curious and confused about how one could refuse Charles Leclerc giving them heart eyes while biting his lips. Instead, she breaches a topic she thinks is a safe zone. “If you think this is tacky, how did you guys meet?” 

Daniel looks at his hands immediately, a nervous huff escaping from his lips. He hates telling that story. He rarely ever thinks about that time now unless he really needs to. The swirling of the ice in his negroni makes a loud noise. 

Because truthfully, Max met Daniel at his lowest. It was in his LA house, where he spent most of his time, the D.C. office vacant more often than not. They turned up just as the sun was setting, Sebastian and Max. It was the older man who insisted on introducing them.

Daniel straight out refused. He didn't care about Sebastian’s little charity project. It went too far, saving aggressive puppies, Jesus. He did not want to meet anyone named Verstappen when he wasn't paid to do so. 

Daniel was barefoot, his swimming trunks still a bit wet. The LV shirt had an obnoxious pink print and it was slipping from his shoulders. It was late enough that he was glowing from the sun, the diamonds on his necklace shining. He looked at the wunderkind, at Max, the youngest ambassador in the US ever. 

Max wore a three-piece suit despite the day being too hot for it. His Berlutis were gleaming, and he was straight-up glaring at Daniel.

“Howdy,” he grinned at them. Sebastian assessed Daniel's pupils, shaky hands and a sheen of sweat on his forehead with a grim face. He gave him the pep talk about easing off the drugs just a few days ago. Max extended his hand, and Daniel shook it. It was a reflex. Max’s palm was warm and soft. 

Sebastian cleared his throat. “As I told you, Max, this is Daniel-” 

“I, of course, know who he is.” Max didn't let Sebastian finish his sentence, coming off unnecessarily rude. Daniel laughed awkwardly. 

“Sounds like I'm famous, baby.” he winked at Sebastian and from the corner of his eye, he saw Max visibly cringe. 

“We met at work, Anne. Sebastian introduced us when we were all in the USA. He is painfully proud of that, calls himself a matchmaker and everything.” Max huffs out a laugh. He knows Daniel feels uneasy and puts the target on his back to protect him. Like usually.

“Who did the first move then?” Anne asks, just as Charles, who lost Sebastian somewhere on the way between the bar and the table, makes it back to them. 

“Oh, Daniel did. It was very romantic.” Max says matter of factly. When Daniel finally looks up, he is surprised to see his eyes foggy, as if he is experiencing the moment for the first time again. 

Nevertheless, Daniel huffs, mad that Max always uses his version of the story. “Romantic? You slapped me!” 

“Well, it is only right I did,” Max shrugs. “I, of course, thought you were making fun of me.”

Charles giggles, which is honestly progress. He was the one who took the fall, consoling Max after he returned from their dinner, fidgeting with his fingers, two red stains high on his cheeks. His voice sounded like he was eating gravel for dinner when he told him Daniel had kissed him. He was rapidly blinking like he was trying too hard not to cry, and Charles still thought it was the best proof of his professionalism, the fact that he hadn’t laughed to his face right there. But. He locked himself in the bathroom after Max somehow calmed down, turned on the faucet, and laughed hysterically. 

Max originally feared Daniel had figured him out and was just playing mind games. He thought Daniel was ridiculing him, or worse, he tried a new technique to manipulate and eventually blackmail him. What enraged him the most was the fact he wasn't prepared for it. He hasn't read a tutorial named what-to-do-when-your-counterpart-kisses-you in any of the assigned readings in the university. 

The only emotion Daniel felt when Max slapped him across the face immediately after the kiss was pure humiliation. He couldn't believe he read the signs wrong, him, Daniel Ricciardo. It was unheard of. Plus, Max did kiss him back for a few seconds. But then. 

And Daniel felt stupid and walked home alone and got drunk alone and fell asleep alone. 

Now, Daniel looks at Max with deep empathy. He squeezes his thigh, smiling. 

“Well, that shitshow was still a lot better than Baku,” Charles says with a grimace. That wasn't Max stuttering and rubbing his red eyes furiously; that was Max throwing random things across the room, his scream ricocheting through the whole hotel floor. 

Daniel snapped at Charles, “No, we’re not talking about Baku!“ Charles smirked, looking at him with a look that meant trouble. But Daniel has never in his life been scared of Charles. He was such a sweet kid before he fell under Seb’s influence. He takes a second to mourn the version of him he knew before he introduced Seb to him. 

“Always you are mad because you don’t want to admit you were wrong. Christian also said you of course did not act according to the protocol.” Max buts in, chronically unable to get over things. 

Daniel turns to Max with a stormy expression, the empathy all but gone. “Christian would also suck your dick if you asked, I don't see how his opinion is valid in this situation.” he spits out.

Charles hums, taking another sip of his skinny bitch. “He does seem to touch you an awful lot, when you are together, Max.” 

“That’s exactly my point, thank you, Charles.” Daniel is done, scoffing. 

Max, however, is just about to start another rant. “But Daniel, I told you your tactic wouldn't work. You pulled out of the negotiations too soon, it was very amateurish from you, you must admit at least that. Who leaves the negotiating table with no backup plan?” he gets into it, flaring his hands around like an octopus. “It just buggs me, you know, that you still blame me. You of course made a mistake, Daniel, and that happens but it was a stupid rookie mistake and you should have apologized-” 

Daniel stands up abruptly. “Hey, Max?” 

For a frightening second, Anne thinks he is going to deck his husband right there.

Max just hums, looking up. “I love you,” Daniel says surprisingly, bending down and giving Max a loud, smacking kiss. Then he turns around and leaves to the bar to stand next to Sebastian who resurfaced in the meantime. 

When Anne looks at Max, he is red as a tomato, glaring at the straw in his drink. “Well, what was I saying-” he stutters, interrupted by the laughter of the men sitting across from him. 

“I can't believe this shit is still working out for him, oh my god.” Alex wheezes. 

“Manipulative bitch,” George quips, still giggling.

Max is unimpressed. “Don't call him that.” he snaps and glares at him, George shutting up immediately. 

Charles looks at Anne and smiles a little. “I think maybe it is time for us to go home. I'm terribly tired. What do you think?”

Anne nods, pointedly not saying anything about noticing how Sebastian kept yawning at his spot beside Daniel. 

||

Daniel doesn't understand why he wakes up at first. It's pitch black, the blackout curtains doing their job properly. He stares at the ceiling for a bit, then closes his eyes to make himself fall back asleep. 

“Ik zal het oplossen.” Max meowls in Dutch next to him. “I just need more time! Ik zal het halen, dat beloof ik. No, no!” 

It clicks for Daniel, Max's rigged breaths, which he has not noticed before. The night air is suddenly too cold. 

He runs his hand up and down Max's forearm, not saying anything but his name to wake him up. When Max snaps out of his dream, his whole body violently twitches, and he slaps Daniel's hand away. 

“Hey, it's okay now,” Daniel isn't deterred, his hand finding a way to Max's hair, waiting him out. “It was just a dream. You are safe.” 

Max's breaths come out staggering like he just returned from his run. After a few minutes, he finally opens his eyes and looks at Daniel. A macabre grimace is on his face, something that wanted to be a smile. 

“I wasn't prepared again, Daniel,” he whispers. Daniel hums, not answering in any way, even though he subconsciously clenches the fist that's not playing with Max's hair. 

“You are safe with me,” Daniel says, trying to ease Max's shivering and make the haunted flicker in his eyes go away. He never shared any gruesome details about his time in military school. But. It's not like he had to. “Do you maybe want to take a shower?” he asks him and Max hesitantly nods.

They only fall back asleep when the birds are already chirping outside.

#maxiel #diplomacy au #f1 rpf #f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #my ficlets #my writing

[vro0m]

vro0m's rewatch - 173/332

2016 Monaco GP

(Buckle up there’s a lot of gifs in this one)

Well now that Spain made me lose my mind it's only fair for the follow-up to be the dullest race on the calendar. Oh wait actually maybe not? 

It's wet. They're talking of changeable conditions. Also weirdly, it's Ricciardo on pole. Huh. I can only hope this race surprises me. Interestingly, Max crashed in Q1 so he's starting for the pitlane while Daniel is starting from pole. I'm gonna be interested in that dynamic. 

The Mercs have fuel pressure issues if I understand right? Of course we're gonna have a segment on them after what happened in the last race. We see images from Monaco 2014, the controversial quali mistake from Nico. "We're not friends." Lewis leaning on his shoulder and Nico getting away from him. The Belgium 2014 crash. Merc's 2014 title win. Lewis' 2014 title win. China 2015, when Nico thought Lewis backed him into Seb during the race. Monaco 2015, when the team lost Lewis' the race. Merc's 2015 title win. Lewis' 2015 title win. The cap throw. And of course their last crash. 

Johnny interviews Lewis on the truck. He claims Lewis has been grumpy in the past few days. Lewis is surprised, or he feigns to be. He asks how he's been grumpy. Johnny says there's been people saying he doesn't look happy. Johnny hypothesises that it might be frustration because he wanted to be on the front row and it didn't work out. "Okay," Lewis says, half amused. Johnny says that's him still being grumpy with him. Which is insane. Lewis interrupts him. He says he's in a great mood, he's in Monaco, where he lives, and he gets to drive. As he waves to the crowd he points to children from the starlight foundation for hospitalised children. He says to Johnny not to listen to all the noise, "that's the problem with people, they just listen to what other people say." Johnny says in 2008 Lewis won from starting 3rd on the grid, where he's starting that day. Lewis says he got lucky that one time but he'll do what he can and get points.

The journalists are talking team orders now. Apparently Lewis hinted that they might have to rely on that if Nico and himself came together again. Brundle says of course if it turns out the Ferraris or the RedBulls become a threat for the title the team is gonna have to make decisions. 

On the truck Seb says he thinks they have a good car but we also hear him say it got worse and swearing during quali so. Yeah. Not too sure about that. 

Mmh and there's a problem with Max's car. They are hammering something on or off the car. Not good. 

I'm gonna skip Brundle's grid walk because it's never as annoying as in Monaco. 

The grid : Ricciardo, Nico, Lewis, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Perez, Kvyat, Alonso and Valtteri. 

And it's a safety car start!

It's just that wet. They're all on full wets then of course. Kvyat says his Toro Rosso is stuck on constant speed. He drops down the field even under safety car. He's back in the pits and a lap down. But he goes again. But then he says it still doesn't work. Over radio, Magnussen claims it's time they go racing, the track is ready. Lewis is also calling it. Okay! Safety car in at the end of lap 7. Kvyat is not allowed to unlap himself though which is stupid. 

Here we go! Ricciardo gets away and Lewis is close to Nico. Magnussen pits for inters! Crazy! Meanwhile Lewis almost put it in the wall in the hairpin AND A CAR HAS CRASHED?! Wait, is it on the other side of the wall…? I'm confused. It's Palmer. VSC. What happened? He's out and OK btw. The car is already hooked to the crane and lifted up, the two front wheels hanging pathetically under the car like a warm ball sack. Ohhh okay. Weird. So on the restart we see him coming down the hill with the two wheels already broken. He's just sliding down like it's on skis until it gets into the run off area and bumps against the barriers. Yeah he hit other barriers earlier. A lot of the midfield cars are getting on the inters. 

On lap 10, they go again, AGAIN. And still Ricciardo is ahead while Lewis is sticking to Nico's back. He's looking to overtake for sure. But well. It's Monaco. Jenson sets the fastest lap on inters! Yellow flags… It's Grosjean and Raikkonen into the barriers with minimal to no damage it seems. Ah nevermind Raikkonen just lost his front wing, it's stuck under his car. He's trying to get back to the pit anyway but at the exit of the tunnel it seems impossible and he retires in a run-off area. On the replay we see Raikkonen crashed by himself, then as he went again Massa ran into his back and as he went off into the barriers, Grosjean found himself stuck behind him. Seb pits for inters. More and more of them on inters. What is Merc doing. OH AND WE DIDN'T SEE IT HAPPEN BUT LEWIS IS AHEAD! He has 13 seconds to make up for to catch Daniel though. Oh ho it seems to have been team orders… I mean he immediately put 4 seconds between him and Nico so it's clearly the right call but it’s icky. Seb got ahead of Massa by cutting the chicane unintentionally so he gives the place back. Shortly after Hulkenberg almost collides with his rear in the hairpin. Lewis sets the fastest lap of the race. Still 13 seconds to Ricciardo but Nico lost 2 more seconds on him. 

On lap 20, Lewis is 12.7 seconds behind, then it's Nico, Sainz getting close to him, Perez not far behind, a big gap to Massa, followed by Seb, Hulkenberg, Alonso and Gutierrez still further down. The Merc mechanics are ready with inter tyres. But Lewis doesn't come in, so it'll be Nico. Yep. Out in P5. Massa pits as well. And that's two cars into the barriers! Kvyat and Magnussen, who almost backed away into another car. And Verstappen sets the fastest lap on inters now. Lewis needs to pit. Him and Daniel are the last ones on wets… And Ricciardo pits! And Lewis hasn't pitted?! WHY?! It's stupid af. Now Ricciardo is gaining so fast on him, setting fastest lap after fastest lap, while Ted reports the track is "bone dry". Daniel is less than 0.2 behind him… They think he's trying to go straight to the slicks. 

It's lap 30. Lewis, Daniel +0.7, Nico 26 seconds further down, Perez, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Alonso, Gutierrez, and Max, who started from the pitlane, is in the points. And Ericsson is the first one to get on the slicks. Perez follows. Then Jenson, Magnussen… Lewis is struggling. HE PITS. Ultrasofts! Do they think he can go to the end on these?! It's 46 laps!!! Everyone is pitting. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO FUCKING WAY. Ricciardo came in for the slicks but they weren't ready! The tyres weren't out! What a mistake! He's sitting there… It's a 13.6 stop! Unbelievable! Just as he gets in the pit exit, Lewis flies by at full speed! They are wheel to wheel after the chicane but Lewis gets away fast and he keeps the lead! Is he finally, FINALLY, gonna win his second Monaco GP?! Well there's still half a race to go, and Daniel isn't giving up! He's catching on Lewis! He attacks out of the tunnel, but Lewis defends. It's close, damn. I'm gonna be so stressed out. And he's caught in backmarkers… Seb sets the fastest lap. OH AND MAX IS IN THE BARRIERS! Virtual safety car. Meanwhile Nico is in P6. He's been held up during his pitstop to avoid an unsafe release and he lost a place to Seb. They go again and Daniel tries a move before the tunnel but almost loses it. Then he tries in the tunnel. Lewis cut the chicane! They're wheel to wheel! But again, it's Monaco. On his on-board we see him waving his hands furiously. It's true Lewis defended aggressively. Especially given he'd just made a mistake. Radio : "wtf was that?" Daniel asks. 

Lap 40. Lewis, Daniel +1.380. Perez, Seb, Alonso, Rosberg, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Gutierrez. The incident between Lewis and Daniel is under investigation. Ricciardo is losing time slightly. Interestingly, the commentators point out, Perez and Seb are on the softs, not the ultrasofts like Lewis, not the supersofts like Ricciardo. It's pretty clear they can go to the end on these when we're unsure about the ultrasofts. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Ricciardo is gaining again. He's under a second away again. But Lewis responds. No further action for their previous scuffle. Lewis sets the fastest lap again. But Daniel responds! But behind them drivers are picking up the pace as well… Specifically Perez in P3 is faster than them both at this point. 

It's lap 50. Perez sets the fastest lap. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.8, Perez +8.9, Seb +2.3, then Alonso is 30 seconds down, followed by Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson and Massa. And the two Saubers, that we just heard fighting over the radio about team orders, collided! They go again. VSC. One of them pits. VSC ending. Ricciardo is so close… Nasr's Sauber is back in the pits. Ricciardo attacks out of the tunnel again! But Lewis defends again! A few corners later, Daniel locks up. He loses time a bit. We breathe. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Nasr is out of the race. There's a train behind Alonso btw. Nico is still stuck half a second behind Alonso and must be getting as frustrated as Ricciardo. Ericsson, the second Sauber, also retires. Seb sets the fastest lap. 20 laps to go. Even when it's somewhat interesting this race is too long. Daniel picks up the pace but locks up again. 

Lap 60. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.9, Perez +9.1, Seb +2.7, Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Ohhh on a replay we see Nico overtook Alonso but then cut the chicane so he gave the place back. There may or may not be rain right at the end of the race… Seb sets the fastest lap again. Ohhh he made a mistake… He lost 2 seconds to Perez because of a lock up. 10 laps to go. Ted says he asked the pirelli guy if Lewis can go to the end on these tyres and the man answered idk I didn't expect them to make it this far so. Yeah. Reassuring. VSC : something has flown on the track apparently from one of the balconies above. It's over really quickly.

Lap 70. Daniel is 2 seconds behind and Perez and Vettel lost out with the VSC, they've fallen back a bit. Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Of course it hasn't changed. Alonso reports some raindrops on his visor. Lewis is starting to lap the top 10! He's not under pressure from Daniel either. He's really gonna win Monaco again. 5 laps to go. Holding my breath. He's gonna be so happy about this. Seb is just one second away from the podium… That would be nice… Come on baby. 4 laps to go. Seb is 0.7 seconds away. 3 laps to go. Seb lost a bit of time. 2 laps to go. It's starting to rain, Sainz says. It's too late for it to make a difference, surely. Final lap! 

It's the end of the race! 

LEWIS WINS IN MONACO! And that's his first win in 2016 as well, damn. Somehow Hulkenberg ultimately finished ahead of Nico. He takes his time around the track, Lewis. Crowd pleaser. 

He is so happy he's basically crowd surfing his crew. He receives congratulations from Justin Bieber and it's extremely cringe. He sets down his stuff, puts the cap on and then hugs his crew AGAIN. Goes back to chat with Bieber. Shakes Perez’ hand. Daniel is unhappy. Understandably. Face closed, shaking his head. Lewis gets his trophy. Throws it HIGH!

When Daniel gets his trophy Lewis also shakes his hand, tells him a word or two. Anthem time.

They pose for the photo. 

Lewis gives the champagne to Bieber to taste then generously drowns the mechanics. Ricciardo is not taking part. Checo is hugging his guys. Lewis crouches on his step instead of coming down to talk to Brundle.

He thanks everyone and says he's at a loss for words, he prayed for a time like this and it came.

The stint length was crazy and it was close. He congratulated Daniel for how well he drove all weekend, he calls him one of the best drivers he raced against. He says he's looking forward to many more battles. He knows he's unhappy because it's always disappointing to start one pole and finish second but he should be proud of how well he drove. 

While Ricciardo's interview starts, Perez and Lewis clinks bottles behind his head. The "tink" of the glass is heard loud and clear. 

When they get back to Lewis, Brundle reminds him of the gap in the championship : 26 points. "Game on," he says. Lewis chuckles with a hollow voice.

He says he hasn't even thought about that yet. He says he forgot to congratulate Sergio, who did an amazing job to come up from where he was. He says of course they're still in the battle, there's a long long way to go. "Just when you feel it couldn't get any worse it gets better." You can't ever give up. 

Apparently Horner refuses to give an interview. Toto is beaming though. He still says he's sorry about the RBR boys mishap because you never want this to happen to anybody. I mean. Sure Toto. He says they had issues with brake temperatures on both cars that caused problems every restart but Nico suffered more from it than Lewis. He also confirms Nico letting Lewis ahead was a team order. Simon says the gap is 24, not 26. He's confident for Montréal, but the others are catching up to them for sure. 

Nico says the decision to let Lewis ahead was pretty straight forward. He doesn't make a big deal out of it. It was clear he was off the pace while Lewis still had a chance to win. From the team's point of view it's simple. 

Lewis is asked how this win ranks in his career. He chuckles. It feels like the best race ever but he's had a lot of races and can't remember all of them.

He says this one he feels in his heart he earned. It didn't feel like a stroke of luck, he did the most. He chuckles again. He used every skill he had to stay ahead of Daniel, OH RIGHT. IT'S HIS 44TH WIN. IN MONACO. Ohhh symbols, symbols. He says it feels like a long time he hasn't won. About the call to stay out when everybody was putting for inters he says the mixed conditions are generally his favourite, although he wasn't the fastest in these conditions today, Daniel was, because they had more downforce this weekend. He says he decided to stay out. (Earlier Toto said the pit wall had a whole conversation about it and it was a team decision, Lewis being part of the team.) He says he was told to box and he said no because if he did he'd have to do it again 10-15 laps later given how fast the track was drying.

He says when he came out though it was like driving on ice. He's eager to get back to them and have a drink and enjoy.

The journalist says he said earlier in the weekend the ultrasofts weren't soft enough for him but now they're probably good enough? He says he's glad… He breathes out with this look of wonder he has when he's excited.

He says he had a long way to go on these tyres. The crazy thing is you don't know how long these tyres can go but there's a number of things you can do in the car to try to make them last longer. Daniel was picking up the pace and he was trying to speed up and slow down and "just tryna keep them sweet" but you never know when they'll drop off the cliff. It felt like it went on forever. He says it's a short lap here but 47 laps is a lot. Oh my god. He crosses his hands on his heart, raises his shoulders. "I'm grateful to got them…" He shakes his fist slightly, he's a child. "So happy!" 

And then it's time for the final interview while Lewis is trying to walk through the paddock. For some reason he pushes Johnny away, "Hey get out of here man!" Johnny laughs.

"Good seeing you smile buddy," he says.

I guess Lewis was a bit grumpy after that pre race interview after all. Lewis says he doesn't know how the race looked but it felt incredible. "one of the hardest races." The rain is so tricky and Monaco is horrible in the rain. Johnny says he was under a lot of pressure fighting Ricciardo, the conditions, he must feel so relieved to finally win. He says unfortunately he doesn't feel relieved at all. He says he went out there and took what he needed to get. He doesn't feel lucky or… "No no no but it's been a long time," Johnny says. Lewis is still talking "... Or 'Thank God' , I don't feel like that. Of course it's been a long time but today – thank you man," he interrupts himself to answer a guy congratulating him on the way. "I just feel incredibly proud of the job we did, of the decision I made to stay out, not crashing, you know, with all the opportunities out there I could've for sure crashed but I just feel very proud." Eventually, prompted by Simon this time, he agrees it's been a long time. He says it's one of the hardest races to win. He's again interrupted by someone congratulating him on the way. "Merci," he says. "One of the hardest races to win," he continues. "I mean why is it so damn hard." They chuckle. "But I love it." – "You like hard," Johnny says. Which uh. 🥴 Anyway. They're doing this interview while walking up narrow metallic stairs, it's awful. He says he'll be celebrating with friends that night. He says they'll definitely party, the music is already going.

He looks at the camera. "Blessings to everyone, thanks so much for the support."

A few minutes later we see Merc taking the team photo. As Ted repeats, Nico really offered Lewis this win in a sense. And that's such an interesting thing to point out in their dynamic. 

#f1 #lewis hamilton #vro0m's race reviews #2016 #2016 monaco gp

[baoreal]

This exquisite trope about the fuck or die Monza curse by @cvrthage, @yekoc, @baking-soda and @veryspecificfantasies has bewitched me body and soul, particularly the "every year there are teammates secretly hoping it will be them (max, every single year with daniel. george with lewis) and teammates desperately hoping it won't (lewis with george)" bit, and I just couldn't resist. So here's a little George x Lewis drabble (angsty, beware).

George knows that Lewis knows he has a big fat crush on him. Everybody in this damned sport does, and George has never been cool enough to be different. The tacit agreement is that he tries to control himself and not be too much of a loser around Lewis, and Lewis pretends not to notice when he stutters or stares for a beat too long or praises him excessively in interviews. It’s a delicate balance, but they mostly make it work. Mostly.

Except there’s Monza. George is still not sure what exactly the Italians woke up when they dug the foundations of the track, but everybody knows it’s cursed, and will not hesitate to try to maim and kill if it’s not paid in lust. Every year, a teammate pairing on the grid gets chosen at random, and if they don't fuck, everybody suffers the consequences on track. Nobody has ever outright admitted to being chosen, but there’s always speculation and hushed whispers around the paddock about which team has had the misfortune during the weekend. The only real way of knowing whether the bargain has been fulfilled or not is to start the race and wait for the chain shunts to pile up. It’s never happened in all his hears in F1, even though there have been several driver pairings known to hate each other’s guts, so everyone must have been doing their part. If Magnussen and Hülkengerg have indeed fucked each other’s brains out for the greater good, it means, to George’s understanding, that everybody is in silent agreement that it’s just something to do for the safety of the whole grid, nevermind the rumours that Webber once refused point blank to fuck Sebastian. He has a poor opinion of him for it. A duty is a duty, is the way he sees it.

He entertained thoughts of being chosen and having Lewis fuck him exactly once, his first year at Mercedes. Then he realized he wanted it too much, and put the matter firmly out of his mind. The chances of it happening where nigh anyways. Albono had confided in him that Max had once told him at an after party that he hadn’t been chosen yet, despite being four years into his career at the time and “wanting it very much” with Daniel (George resolved then and there to steer clear of Max if there ever was vodka in their immediate vicinity, a promise he’s kept ever since); and George wasn’t even sure if he would last the year as Lewis’ teammate. There’s always a chance you’ll get demoted from a top team in F1.

He’s also not sure he’d enjoy it if they got picked anyways, regardless of his big fat crush, because it’s rotten to only have Lewis sleep with him because some evil supernatural entity is mashing them together like Barbie dolls, and not because he really wants to (but you could, whispers some pathetic part of him, you could let yourself enjoy it if it were to happen. He pretends he does not hear it.)

Mostly, he doesn’t think about it. It’s going on five years now since he stepped into Formula 1, and he’s somehow still in Mercedes, and they haven’t been chosen. There have been no horrific accidents in Monza. He makes the mistake of getting complacent.

And then Monza, in all its cruelty, picks them.

He senses something is off from the moment he wakes up on Friday, but he can’t quite pinpoint what it is. He is sweating more than normal, but he chalks it up to the warm Italian air. Until Toto grabs him by the scruff and drags him to his office.

Lewis is also in Toto’s office. His forehead is also beaded with sweat, and he looks vaguely ill. George puts two and two together, and his stomach drops.

“It’s us this year.” Confirms Toto. Lewis doesn’t say anything. Lewis doesn’t say anything for a really long time, until George can’t stand it anymore and blurts out. “Okay, well, let’s get it over with then. How do we go about it?”

Toto sighs. “We haven’t had to do this in a very long time, but the standard procedure means we have a room for you two-“

“We’re not doing it.” Interrupts Lewis. George’s jaw drops. The mean little voice in his head says see, he won’t touch you even when there’s inocent lives on the line. He’ll never want you back.

A muscle jumps in Toto’s jaw. “If you don’t do it it will fuck up the race, and if anything happens the FIA will investigate and I will be forced to tell them that it was us. We could get heavily sanctioned for putting other drivers at risk." You could be throwing your and our championship bids away, is what he’s really telling Lewis.

“I’m still not doing it.” Reiterates Lewis, his tone final. George gapes, trying to reconcile the man he idolizes with this stranger in front of him who would be willing to potentially throw other people’s lives away because he finds the idea of fucking George that repulsive.

“You’d put everybody at risk?” He can’t help but ask, sounding pathetically close to tears even to his own ears. He doesn’t want to know what his face is doing. 

Lewis’ only answer is an undecipherable look. In the end, he doesn’t. He gets Toto to leverage his considerable power and a technicality in the regulations surrounding the Monza situation to get the race cancelled. He breaks George’s heart and what little self-esteem he has all the same.

#George x Lewis #my fic #plot twist Lewis actually doesn't want to fuck him because he thinks it's horribly messed up that George gets no choice in the matter #on top of the hero worship and power imbalance #he doesn't want to fuck George because he knows the other considers it a duty to get done and over with for the paddock's safety #he wants to fuck George because they both want it #unfortunately he's shit at communicating all of this to George so our favourite sad wet towel has to go through it #before they get their shit together (Albon locks them in a closet until they talk their feelings out)

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Dani? Maybe with 56&58 from angst prompts, like they have a kid from a fling but aren’t dating/together

Summary: You have a daughter with Daniel from a one-night stand.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word count: 1.7k

56. “I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.”

58. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

You can boast that up until the age of 22 you were a model person.

You were the perfect daughter: you were home every holiday or birthday, you never argued with your parents and you made sure to call them every day since you moved out of their home.

You were the perfect older sister: you gave your younger siblings money without your parents' knowledge, you helped them when they asked for your help, and you tried to give them advice when they needed it.

You were the perfect friend: when your friends called you that they needed a shoulder to cry on, you were right next to them with a box of ice cream.

You were the perfect employee: you always got to work earlier, you stayed after-hours to finish all your work and to help others and you did your job perfectly.

But now you're 24 and everything is fucked up.

You moved in with your parents again and you no longer have that perfect relationship with them. You resigned from your job and from all the gang of friends you had, you were left with only one friend: Emilia.

Why?

Because now you had a daughter, resulting from a one-night stand.

You were a single mother who relied on the help and support of those around her.

Given that there was nothing more than a one-night stand between you and Kiera's father on your birthday night, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to post him on Instagram and say, 'Hey, 'sup, I don't know if you remember me, you drank a lot of whiskey that night, but we fucked and now you have a baby. Congratulations!' What kind of psychopath does that?

Not to mention that he is a public figure, of course, he wouldn't believe you and say you're just a money-obsessed girl; that if he saw the message on Instagram, obviously.

But it was going to be your daughter's second birthday and you were starting to get remorseful. Sure, you accepted your life as a single mother and you knew you wouldn't have a happy ending like in the princess books you read to Kiara, but it wasn't right for your daughter. She needs a father in her life. And it wasn't fair for Daniel not to know he had a daughter. Of course, you can only tell him and it is up to him to choose what to do with this information: whether he wants to be part of Kiara's life or not. At least you would have tried.

That weekend was going to be the Grand Prix of Great Britain and you didn't do much flying there, and, anyway, you could stay with your cousin you haven't seen in about 5 years.

Although your daughter's father was a well-known Formula 1 driver, you have never been to a race, and you were amazed by the very high prices for a ticket with access to the paddock.

You had a choice of which day to go and tell Daniel, probably, the news of his life.

You were sure you didn't want to tell him on Sunday. Before the race? Maybe he had an accident and he would have hurt himself. So no.

Saturday? Before qualifying? If you had told him then he would have gone to qualifications, he would not have focused and he would have come out on a low position. So no.

So you decided on Friday.

You left your cousin's house in the morning for the circuit where the race took place. You passed security without a problem with Kiara. You could walk through the paddock without any problems looking for your baby's father.

You knew that the best chance of finding Daniel was to go to McLaren Hospitality. On the way there, everyone you met stopped to look at Kaira, wondering how beautiful she was. You thanked them and prayed that they would not realize that she was Daniel's daughter, considering that she was almost identical to him; you could take her curly hair and smile as a positive result of the paternity test.

"What a beautiful baby!" you hear a girl standing in front of Red Bull Racing with Max Verstappen, and you immediately realize it's Kelly Piquet; good thing you documented yourself before you came.

You see her come and lean over the stroller.

"Oh my God, what beautiful eyes she has! What's her name?"

"Kiara," you answer and you look panicked as Max comes towards you.

"Look, Max! Isn't she a beautiful girl?"

Max smiles. "Yes, she is."

"What is such a small child doing here? She's going to hear very loud noises."

Damn it. What would you answer now?

"We came to walk around and meet some drivers," you answer as convincingly as you can. "It's never too early to start, right?" you giggle.

The two laughed, apparently they believed you.

But you immediately felt your legs soften and you saw Daniel walking with his teammate. You bit your lip and held on to the stroller better. All the courage left you and you wanted to leave.

"A baby!" Lando gasps and comes towards you.

Wonderful! Everyone behaved as if they had never seen a baby in their life, pathetic.

Daniel came after him, looking at you strangely. Did he recognize you? He also looks at Kiera and smiles.

You could've died there. You wanted to cry and you couldn't take your eyes off Daniel.

The next thing you saw was black.

You woke up lying on a bed, someone was holding a cold water pad on your forehead. And your head hurt a hell of a lot.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lando, who was next to you asks.

"Mhm, my head hurts."

"Oh, yes, you hit yourself a little when you fainted but a doctor came and consulted you while you were still unconscious and said you were fine. Can I get you something?"

"Just water."

"Coming right now," he says and gets up from next to you, leaving the room.

Kiera! Where was she? You get out of bed immediately, even though it made your head spin and you felt like throwing up.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down!" Daniel says and gets up from his chair with Kiera in his arms.

You look at Kiera and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You seem so familiar to me," says Daniel and you want to faint again. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He seemed to be thinking. He didn't know how he knew you and you were afraid to tell him anything now.

"Wait! Spain, 2 years ago! It was like your birthday and we did shots together, right?"

Fuck. He remembered.

"Yes."

Daniel was smiling. Did he only remember the shots in the club?

"About that night..." you say and catch Daniel's attention. You signal to Kiera who is playing with some keys in Daniel's arms.

Daniel looked at the little girl and it was as if you could see the wheels spinning in his head.

"Wait a minute..."

"I brought you water, do you feel bet-"

"Go away!" Daniel shouts at Lando. Lando gets scared and gives you your water bottle then leaves. "What were you saying?"

You bite your lip.

"Kiera is your daughter."

"Dada!"

Daniel was speechless. His eyes were wide and they seemed to be coming out of their sockets and he was looking at Kiera. You didn't know how to interpret his reaction.

"Are you serious?"

"I don't know why you think I'm kidding."

"Are you sure I'm the father?"

You snort and get out of bed, you go to him and take Kiera out of his arms.

"What do you think? That I go to different wealthy men and tell them that they have a baby with me to give me money? I came to tell you because I thought Kiera would do well to have a father in her life. But I see that her father is not interested at all. You haven't even called me in all these years."

Daniel frowns and looks at you.

"What are you talking about?"

"The next morning I woke up before you and left my phone number on a note. I left it on your nightstand."

All the color was drained from his face.

"I didn't see the note."

You snort again.

“I realize it was a bad idea. I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.” you say and a few tears run down your face.

"Hey, hey, hey! You don't get to cry! I found out I lost the first few years of her life! You should have come earlier to tell me! You could come here, I don't know, you could contact me on Facebook, Instagram!"

"Yeah, sure! You doubted me now, if you'd have woken up with a message from me on Instagram you would have believed me immediately!"

"I believe you now," he says and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Please, I want to know more about her life. Can you stay?"

You looked at him with tears in your eyes. Is this really happening?

You both sat on the bed and Daniel took his daughter in his arms.

"Her full name is Kiera Hazel. In two weeks she'll be 2 years old." you start saying it with a big smile on your face. "Her first word was 'dada'."

Daniel laughs and looks at her.

"Was it hard to raise her alone so far?"

“I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire. I had to resign from work because I couldn't divide my time between work and her, I moved back with my parents... All my friends left me, so yes, it's been pretty hard. But it's worth it when I see her smile.”

"I'm sorry you had to go through this alone. If you allow me, I want to be in her life. I want to help you."

"That will be great, actually," you smile.

#daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo oneshot #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 mclaren #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fandom #f1 2021 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #forumula one #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1

[vinvantae]

ᴛᴡɪɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ

Part 16/25

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Rating - Mature

Warnings - Mentions of sex, alcohol, explicit language

******************************************

You were so disappointed; you’d always wanted to do a F1 race at spa but the rain absolutely pissing it down has ruined your chances. You’d done two laps behind the safety car and the race was currently red flagged - the rain had screwed your qualifying yesterday so you were stuck in 9th.

Dan had managed to get up to 4th which was really good for him but he was a little frustrated that he wasn’t able to race it too. After a brief interview with Sky he came over to you and looped his arms around your middle. He’d joked that this race probably seemed like an episode of the Office with all of the clips of the drivers playing around in the garage - Lando was currently having a nap.

“I’m so disappointed that we can’t race” You sighed softly. “I’ve never got to do it in my Redbull before.”

“One day, baby.” He purred softly. “Besides, you spun yesterday and Lando got hurt. Don’t want to risk your life just for a race.”

“The poor fans.”

“Hey… come with me.”

He took your hand and pulled you over to a small gap in the barrier between the pits and the track where the fans could clearly see you. The Australian threw you a smile before attempting to get the crowd to do a Mexican wave. The first attempt was pathetic, but the second time around they were all cheering and waving in perfect sync.

You smiled fondly, even when he was bummed about the race - he was doing his best to make sure everyone else was happy. He spent his day watching videos with his team, goofing around with Michael and of course sneaking off with you.

He’d been asked in his interview why, compared to all the other drivers, he seemed to be really high energy still. The Australian had said it was because he didn’t want to lose his momentum so napping wasn’t an option for him. The truth was really the two of you had been having sex in every private nook you could squeeze yourselves into and both of you were high of the adrenaline of being potentially caught. You felt like a pair of giddy kids in love and you were having so much fun with him.

You felt your cheeks heat up when Max bumped into you and Daniel coming out of the Redbull garage after a particularly intense round in your driver’s room.

“Dan mate, get off your back and do some of the work, man!” The Dutchman teased, making Dan run his hand over the back of his head to readjust the curls that had been ruined by exactly that.

“Oh trust me, he does plenty.” You smirked, raising a brow and making the Dutchman recoil.

“Ugh, don’t make me picture it.” Max mock gagged, earning a shove from his former teammate.

Dan looped his arm around your waist. “You’re all just jealous that I get to tap this.”

“Hey.” You whined, jabbing him in the side. “What have I told you about objectifying me like that!”

The three of you headed back down to the track as it was rumoured the FIA were going to make their decision on the outcome of the race. You wanted them to cancel and reschedule for tomorrow but unfortunately you knew that this was going to be about money for them.

You were all instructed to return to your cars while the rain was absolutely lashing it down. You could practically hear Vettel yelling about the state of the track from where you were on the grid - he’d been the one who insisted on the red flag before Lando was injured. The idea of racing again had clearly angered him to no end and a lot of you felt the same. It was dangerous when even Max, at the front of the grid, couldn’t see a thing.

Dan pressed a kiss against your helmet before pulling on his own. “Good luck.”

“Stay safe.”

Your team lifted the top off your car so you could slip into it. God, this is dumb.

The race ended up being over after two more laps after the safety car and you were all awarded half points with Max, George and Lewis on the podium. You only received one point but thankfully Lando and Bottas - your two biggest rivals - didn’t get any points so your lead on them stayed. Next up would be Max’s home race, the big one, he had to win.

Dan jogged over to you after the race with an umbrella over his head. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Please. We’ve gotta head straight to Zandvoort in the morning… I need some cuddles with my favourite cute koala.” You keened softly, stepping under his umbrella.

“I love it when you’re all cheesy.”

“What can I say, you bring it out of me.” You giggled.

The pair of you made it back to the hotel fairly quickly and packed up anything you didn’t need tonight or first thing in the morning. You collapsed onto the bed and curled up under the duvet with a soft yawn.

“Baby girl.” He chuckled, stroking your forehead. “Are you really just going to fall asleep?”

“Tired. Today was mentally exhausting.” You mumbled.

He slipped under the duvet beside you and pulled you into his warm chest. You took a deep breath in and just enjoyed his smell - there was a comforting nature to it; he smelt how the earth did after rain. Fresh. Peaceful. There was no other scent on Earth that grounded you in the same way. It was just him.

“I think I just want to stay here forever.”

“Me too.” His voice was soft, tired. “But I know you’ll hate me if I let you fall asleep with jeans on. Besides, we’re going for dinner with a couple of the boys.”

“Ughhh.” You groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, darling. We do. Your teammate and my best friend is waiting for us there.”

You looked up at him from where your face had been buried, he was looking at you with a fondness that made your insides feel all warm and gooey like a marshmallow. “How did it take me this long to realise how madly in love with you I am?”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty fucking awesome.”

You lightly smacked his chest and slid out of bed to change into something else for the evening - you wanted to look nice but be much more comfortable. Dan turned on the tv while you were changing and the sound of Alex’s voice filled the room.

“We were all disappointed to hear you’d lost your seat. What do you think of y/n’s season so far?” The interviewer asked.

“Yeah man, it sucked. Unfortunately not all of us can sleep our way into a seat.”

Dan tried to shut off the TV but it was too late, you’d grabbed the remote and turned it up. Is he serious? You could almost feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“That fucking twat! We said we would be civil!”

“I wouldn’t say that’s fair” The interviewer spoke up against the former Redbull driver. “If that was the case she would be McLaren. And you’ve seen her performance this season, she’s been phenomenal.”

Alex blushed and stuttered uncomfortably as he tried to come up with a sufficient comeback but the press had clearly put him in his place.

“Hey, looks like the media has your back.” Dan said softly, taking the remote out of your tense grip.

“In fact-“ The reporter continued, clearly unimpressed by Alex’s comment. “With silly season coming up, I wouldn’t be surprised if multiple teams try to steal her from Redbull. No one has been a good partner for Max since Dan until now.”

“Who is this woman, I love her.” You chuckled softly, finally turning the tv off. “Remind me to send her a thank you note.”

“I will. Now, let’s get to dinner.”

You met Max, Lando and Charles for dinner at a local pub; you were seated in a nice quiet corner away from the general masses. Dan had a lazy arm draped across the back of your chair as he browsed the food menu.

“I can’t believe what Albon said.” Max spoke up. “It was out of line.”

You shrugged. “I’m trying not to let it bother me and be the bigger person. I know I earned my seat; he’s just bitter.”

“I hear he’s trying to get back on the grid next season.”

“Oh yeah? With who? Alpha tauri seems pretty set on Pierre and Yuki for another season and, fingers crossed, Redbull are keeping me with Max.”

“Williams.”

“Does that mean George is finally going to Merc?”

“As far as I heard. Nothing’s been signed officially yet because they need to wait for Kimi to announce his retirement.”

You nodded solemnly- you knew Kimi’s time in F1 would’ve come to an end soon but you were hoping to share a grid with the legend a little longer than a year. He always shared quiet compliments with you about your drives after the race ended.

“I’ve just really enjoyed this season and I really hope Redbull gives me another chance, y’know?”

“Babe. Neither Pierre or Alex have even come close to how you’ve been performing this season.” Dan gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “They’d be stupid if they dropped you.”

“Christian is still bitter about us and I’m worried he’ll use it against me.” You sighed softly, leaning against his side.

“I’ll kick up shit if they dare try anything.” Max said, meeting your eyes across the table. “You’re phenomenal and one of the best teammates, sorry Dan, the best teammate I’ve ever had and they’d be insane to lose you just because you’re shagging that idiot.”

Dan grinned proudly and you thanked Max. Your boyfriend left the table with Dutchman to go get another round of drinks so you were left with Charles and Lando.

“How are you feeling Lando? That crash was pretty gnarly yesterday, I was worried about you.” You asked.

“I’ll be alright. Still feeling a bit achy but I’ll be all ready to go by next weekend.” He smiled softly. “How are you feeling? Not your best finish.”

“Honestly? I know we didn’t get to race but Dan qualifying 4th and then finishing there? I’m so happy for him. I’m hoping that this is the beginning of lots of good results for him… this has been a tough season..”

“He was really hoping that coming to us would help him break the streak of bad luck he was having but it seemed like he was in a slump. I really want him to do well - he deserves to be back on the podium.”

Dan and Max returned, placing the drinks on the table before your boyfriend leant down to give you a tender kiss. He smiled down at you. “Hi.”

“Hi. Missed you.” You returned the smile, placing a hand on his thigh as he retook his seat beside you.

“Missed you too, darling.” He chuckled fondly. “What were you all talking about?”

“How you’re gonna be back on the podium any day now.” Your voice was soft, almost private for his ears - the others took the subtle hint and began to chat amongst themselves. “Preferably with me.”

“You really think so?” There was a hopeful glisten in the pools of molten caramel of his eyes as he stared deep into yours.

“I know so. You’ve worked so hard for it. I know the car doesn’t match the way you drive but you’ve come so far since you joined McLaren and I think you’re finally coming into your own.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re wonderful… and just because I don’t think I ever said it, I’m sorry for what I said way back when about you only being good because you’re in a Redbull. You’d top the grid in a Haas any day.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and brought a hand up to cup his face, brushing your thumb over his stubble. He leant into your touch and let out a content sigh.

“I’m so proud of you.” You whispered.

“You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. I want to win… but knowing that you’ve got my back no matter what? Means everything to me.”

“We’ll get you that win, Danny. I know it.”

You smiled fondly as he moved in to kiss you once more, your three friends so used to the PDA at this point they paid no mind to it. As much as you wanted Redbull to win the championship, you really wanted Dan on the podium. You wanted Dan to win. You knew it would do wonders for his self esteem and although he liked to pretend to be happy all the time, you’d seen how broken he was when things didn’t go his way.

You didn’t know when the win would come but it was definitely on the horizon and Daniel Ricciardo would get to lift a 1st place trophy once again.

************************************************

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[edie-baby]

Baby Boy Chapter 10 (S) | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (THIS CHAPTER TOO), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Mila and Lando arrived back at the hotel where both of their teams were staying. Mila offered her room for their movie night as it had the privacy of the master bedroom where they could have some privacy in case Victoria was staying in tonight. However, as they approached the pair’s room, they saw Max sitting outside on his phone, a determined look on his face when he looked up and saw his target.

With a purposeful march, Max made it to Milana in a few seconds, and without warning, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her. Not wanting to interfere as the two weren’t together, Lando stood behind the pair, waiting for a reaction from Mila so that he could either pull Max away from her or go back to his own room alone. The former happened, as Mila’s arms were desperately swatting at Max’s chest to get him off her. Lando yelled out for Alex as he knew his best friend was staying on the same floor as Mila. Alex popped his head out and saw Lando pulling Max away from Milana.

“Hey mate, let’s get you to your room. I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Alex tried to calmly move the large driver back to his room without causing a scene with the already annoyed Mila and furious Lando. He got him far enough down the hall that Mila felt that she could pull Lando and herself into her room without risk of the raging bull of a RedBull driver coming barging into the room.

Lando was even angrier than when the two had left the restaurant. Mila wanted to calm him down, but truly had no idea how to as she and Lando didn’t know all that much about each other. Mila stood halfway across the room from Lando, close to the front door of the room, feeling comforted by the slightly enclosed space. He could feel her looking at him, not knowing what to do or say or think, but Lando needed to do something. His footsteps were quick as he crossed the room, merely two seconds from when he first made a move until when he was right in front of her.

Lando roughly grabbed the sides of Mila’s face and kissed her with all of the frustration, the passion, the anger, the desire, the need he had for her. Her lips tangled with his in a perfect duet, her hands holding tightly to his wrists. The two separated to breathe, and Lando took a step back, breathing heavily as he attempted to process what he had done. She had just been forcefully kissed by Max, and now here he was doing the exact same thing.

His spiralling thoughts were cut off by the collar of his sweater being roughly tugged closer to the floor, where he realised the shorter woman was begging for him to kiss her again. He did so, just as hard as the first kiss, their noses bumped, their teeth clashed at some point, but neither noticed nor cared. All that mattered was them, together, and him, and her. The kiss seemed to heat up even further, Mila’s hands tugging on the brown curls she adored so much while Lando’s hands travelled to the back of the girl’s thighs to pick her up, her legs wrapping around his waist before he drove them both into the wall, his hand cradled the back of her neck, his thumb putting pressure on the side of her jaw. He used his finger to turn her head, his kisses moving to her neck, immediately targeting her pulse point on the side of her neck. He began sucking hard on the skin, and Mila couldn’t help but cry out from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips ground into hers, using the wall as leverage so he could get even more friction between their bodies. He continued to suck blood to the surface of the skin on her neck and the small portion of exposed skin of her chest that he could access with her dress still on. His feverish kisses moved back to her lips while he carried her toward the closed bedroom door. He used one arm to support Mila’s weight, using the other to turn the handle of the door, he kicked the door shut behind them before turning to push Mila up against this door as well. His hands began travelling more, his hands squeezing her ass, hoisting her thighs up higher for a better angle to grind into her cunt. And all Mila wanted was to get his damn shirt and sweater off. He chuckled, pulling her away from the door to move to the bed. Lando dropped the short girl onto the bed, who immediately sat up on her knees to help Lando get his tops off. He pulled the sweater over his head in one movement, and Mila had to admit it was such a sexy thing, for absolutely no reason other than it was Lando doing it. Her fingers were shaking with anticipation as she popped each shirt button undone until Lando was standing there in an unbuttoned shirt, his tanned skin and muscular torso all for her to see. His hair was in disarray and his lips were swollen and she had never felt luckier.

Without wasting any more time, Mila pushed Lando’s shirt off his shoulders, watching as it fell to the floor. His biceps had grown even more since she had first met him, and without the hindrance of a shirt, she could finally appreciate them for all that they were. Lando, however, wasn’t much in the standing around mood. His lips reattached to Mila’s, and his hands made quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress. His calloused hands ran over her shoulders, down her arms, and then followed the curve of her waist to her hips where the material finally fell to a heap on the bed, pooling around her knees. Lando’s eyes took in her heaving chest, covered by a sheer and orange bra, complete with the matching panties.

“You’ll be the death of me, Princess.” Lando’s voice was deeper and raspier than Mila had ever heard it before. And the pet name had her soaking through her panties. Lando laid her back on the bed, his kisses becoming softer and sweeter. His hand slid beneath her back, his teeth latching onto her nipple through the material of the bra, making her back arch. He undid her clasp with one hand, his other already occupied with hitching her leg higher up on his waist to allow a better angle to grind down into her. The coarse material of his jeans provided the most blissful friction right against her clit, and a hungry moan left her throat. She tossed her bra across the room after finally getting her arms out of it. Lando sat up on his knees between her legs, admiring the woman beneath him.

Mila’s eyes were closed, her head back against the pillow as she attempted to catch her breath in the brief pause. Her arms reached out for Lando, desperate to run her hands through his hair, to feel the muscles in his back working to keep him above her. Lando had grabbed her hands and tied them above her to the headboard, much like she had done to Max and Daniel. Except she had never been restrained before, she had always been the one in control.

And suddenly, the conversation about why Lando had such a passion for driving flashed in her mind.

But it's exhilarating, having all of the power, being the one in charge. It fuels me.

Lando sat back on his knees again, enjoying the view of Mila all tied up and ready for him. The hungry look on her face told him she was enjoying it a lot more than she might have expected, and Lando was about to make damn sure she enjoyed herself.

Mila felt caged, like prey. With her arms tied tight above her head, and Lando’s arms now on either side of her head to support his weight, she suddenly knew exactly why people loved to be dominated. Lando was watching her face, studying her when he saw the change in her eyes. Her eyes changed from dark brown to almost black due to the size of her pupils. A cocky smirk formed on his lips as he let his lips brush over hers and quickly moved away before she could make contact with him. The meekest whimper left her lips, and all of the blood left in Lando’s head travelled straight to his cock.

Lando’s attention moved from Mila’s face to her neck, the roadmap of hickeys would need to be continued now that he had her dress off. His lips began at her collarbone, and from there travelled to the valley between her boobs, reaching over once or twice to leave a mark on her tits. He couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over her pierced nipples just to hear the whines she would let out, and god did they please him. He continued further down, across her stomach, the sensitive spot on her hip bone that deserved a nice, purple love bite.

The orange panties were just too cute. They perfectly matched the papaya of the McLaren, he’d have to ask her to wear this on Sunday while he races, you know, for good luck.

Lando’s index fingers hooked into the waistband of the panties, his cold metal ring brushing along her waist accidentally. A shaky gasp pulled his attention away from the task at hand, and he looked up only to immediately meet Mila’s eyes. She was watching him, enraptured. He sent her a wink and licked his bottom lip in a quick swipe. Mila let out another one of those pathetic little whimpers that sent a shiver down his spine and right to his throbbing cock.

He pulled the panties off in a swift motion, he wanted to taste her, needed to taste her. His large hands took their place on the inside of her thighs, parting them just enough to fit his head between. He sucked a quick love bite onto the inside of her left thigh, making eye contact with the Czech as he swiped his tongue up her folds for the first time.

“You taste so good, Princess. So fucking sweet.” Lando growled, diving back into her folds with his tongue, licking a wide stripe up until he felt a little metal ball. He looked up at Mila with a raised eyebrow, using his fingers to part her folds and take a peek at the piercing in her clit. Mila looked at him sheepishly, but Lando only looked even more excited. With the heavy eye contact again, he sucked her clit into his mouth, using the barbell of the piercing to twist and turn and get every angle he could get his tongue onto her clit. Mila was biting her lip so hard, he was sure it was about to bleed. He moved his head from her cunt to look at her with a disappointed look.

“I want everyone in this fucking hotel to know that you’re finally getting treated right. And by who.” Lando’s mouth was right next to her ear, telling her directly what he wanted from her. He caressed her cheek with his hand, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She quickly took the finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and bobbing her head as much as she could. Lando swiped two fingers through her folds before bringing them up to her mouth and whispering to her.

“Taste yourself Princess.”

Mila gladly took his fingers again, working them with everything that she had, and he watched her in admiration as she looked up at him with those eyes. Mila released his fingers with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his middle finger to her bottom lip. He swiped his finger across her left nipple and blew cold air onto it, and Mila moaned freely.

Lando left wet kisses from her tits to her cunt, picking up exactly where he left off, his tongue working her clit while his fingers teased her entrance, hearing the whimpers from Mila only spurred him on further. He slid his middle finger in, curling it, stretching and preparing her for the second while still stimulating her clit and that lovely little piercing. Mila’s moans now where growing in volume. Lando added a second finger, scissoring them, then curling toward himself to brush over her G-spot, his fingers working in perfect time with his tongue to create a symphony of whimpers, moans and Czech curses falling off of her maroon lips. Her moans were as loud as yelling now, and he was sure the surrounding rooms would be hearing her already, and Lando was only just getting warmed up.

He added a third finger, continuing his coordinated movements, brushing up against the bundle of nerves ever so often to elicit a particularly loud moan. His eyes were locked on hers, his tongue still devouring her clit and folds. Lando decided to step it up a notch, and snaked his free hand around the outside of Mila’s leg to allow his fingers to rub her clit with a pace his tongue simply didn’t have. Mila’s moans quickly turned to a higher pitch, growing louder with each one as Lando’s fingers continued to scissor within her, his other hand rubbing her clit and putting pressure on it, while his tongue added stimulation to her clit.

“Fuck, Lando. I’m gonna cum. You’re so fucking good. Oh fuck!” Mila spoke each phrase between moans and pants. Lando increased his pace even more and had Mila screaming in pleasure in a few moments. Her vision had gone white, and a blinding hot feeling had covered her body. It seemed to light up every neuron in her body with a newfound purpose, and she wondered if sex was always supposed to feel like this.

Lando helped her ride out her orgasm, slowing his fingers to a slow pace, and stopping his assault on her clit. As Mila caught her breath and came back to reality, Lando licked his fingers clean, Mila caught the last few seconds, and figured it was safe as she would have cum again had she watched him from beginning to end.

“You were so good, Princess. You let the whole floor know just how good I can make you feel, but I want the entire hotel to know. You think you can help me with that baby?” Lando asked, Mila was still mentally recovering from her world shattering first orgasm, she didn’t know if she could take another. But she needed him. God, she wanted him too.

It was torture for Mila to watch Lando undo his jeans, and slide them and his Calvin’s down without being able to touch him. She wanted to taste him, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him. He granted her wishes quite quickly, as after he rolled a condom on, he ran his tip up and down her folds, sighing in pleasure at the sensation. He pushed into her slowly, pulling her legs further up his waist. He bottomed out and leaned down to kiss her slowly, pouring his true feelings into the kiss. She returned it, the same emotion flowing between them.

Mila wiggled her hips, urging Lando to move. He slowly pulled almost all the way out, and then snapped his hips to meet hers, burying himself to the hilt again. A cry tore from Mila’s throat as Lando set his pace, snapping his hips to meet hers at a bruising speed. Mila’s moans were high pitched, loud, and frequent, she wasn’t even trying to make the hotel hear her, but if Lando kept up with this, they were sure as hell going to know.

Lando hoisted Mila’s legs onto his shoulders so her could drive deep down into her, and for the first time all night, he let his hand close around her throat. As soon as he did, Mila’s eyes rolled back into her head, her moans even louder than before. Lando could feel himself slipping to the edge with the pace and angle he was at, and he knew Mila would get there, but he needed her to have the world’s best orgasm, because he was in control now. With one hand, he began undoing the belt that held her wrists to the headboard. His hips still snapping at the same pace, Mila barely knew what was going on due to the pleasure pouring into her body at a high rate of knots.

Lando pulled out and turned Mila onto her front. She quickly got up onto her knees and leaned her shoulders and face into the mattress, her back arched at an angle that would give Lando a hard-on any time of day. He lined up with her entrance, his hands grabbing onto her hips with a bruising grip. He slid into her easily due to how wet she was, and this new angle allowed for a much faster pace. Mila was screaming in pleasure now, her moans no longer expressive enough of the wondrous job Lando was doing. He felt himself nearing the edge, after waiting to touch himself for so long, he knew he wouldn’t last a long time, especially if Mila kept clenching around him like she was. Lando reached forward and grabbed Mila’s hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could hold her to his chest while fucking up into her.

The added hair pulling was the last push over the edge, and Mila fell back against Lando, who was basically being milked by Mila’s cunt, and came as well. If Mila thought her first orgasm was Earth-shattering, there were absolutely no words to describe what had just happened to her. It took multiple minutes for the both of them to come back down to Earth and rejoin reality. Lando was laid beside Mila, still slightly out of breath. He stood up to throw the condom in the bin, then reached his arms out for Mila to grab onto.

“C’mon baby, let’s have a shower. You’re not going to wake up early to have one before your breakfast with Vic. Plus, we’re a bit sweaty.” Lando giggled as Mila looked up at him with an incredulous look. He pulled her up from the bed, planting a sweet kiss to her lips before leading her into the bathroom. Lando stepped aside to turn the shower on and get it up to temperature, leaving Mila in front of the large bathroom mirror. She gasped and looked on, horrified, at her neck and chest. Every inch of her neck and collarbones were covered in hickeys, along with a trail of them leading to and from each boob. She looked accusatory at Lando, waving her pointer finger in the air at him like a mother.

“It’s not that bad, at least Max will get the hint now.” Lando growled, pulling Mila closer to his chest. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her for another kiss. The water was finally at what Lando deemed the ‘perfect temperature’ and as they got in, Mila understood exactly why. She felt the sex scum wash off of her immediately, and felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Austria. Lando and Mila helped cover each other in bubbles before washing off and getting into a bit of a water fight in the process. They climbed out, drying off with the overly fluffy hotel towels, and climbed into bed naked, wanting to enjoy each other as much as possible before Lando had to focus on the race weekend.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #team lando #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #mclaren f1 #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #call me eden

[semperama]

this may be a little late for directors cuts so feel free to ignore but could you do the scene in little drops when lewis comes across max in monaco? i’ve always been curious what was going on in his head there! also i love your writing :)

It's never too late for a director's cut! You can consider my inbox always open. :) And I'm really glad you asked for that scene! I've been hoping someone would, so I can talk about it more.

"Max?"

The voice hits him like a bucket of cold water, making him stiffen, making his already rabbiting heart beat even faster in his chest. Fuck. This cannot be happening to him right now.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and someone squats down next to him, and when Max forces his head up—wincing against the ache—he finds himself looking into the warm brown eyes of Lewis Hamilton. [I touched on this in an earlier ask someone sent me, but Lewis is definitely shocked to see Max. At this point no one really knows anything about Max's condition, so Lewis isn't expecting to see him based on that alone, but also he keeps in touch with Daniel, so he knows Daniel doesn't know about Max's condition, which makes it even more alarming that he's just suddenly...here.]

Jesus. He should have known this would happen. It was only a matter of time before he ran into one of the other drivers, no matter how he's tried to avoid it. He'd convinced himself that eventually he'd be ready to do that on his own terms. Maybe he would show up to the paddock during the Monaco race with a smile on his face, ready to assure everyone that he's fine. Or maybe he would ask Lando or Alex if they wanted to come over and play FIFA; his thumbs still work, after all.

But no, not Lewis. Max would never, ever have chosen Lewis as the first driver he saw face-to-face after everything. He's the second worst one, in fact—after Daniel. [Max doesn't want Lewis to see him as weak or pathetic, but he fails to realize that Lewis would never see him that way. In a way, the whole following interaction is a much more minor version of how things play out with Daniel throughout the rest of the fic. Max fears that he's somehow inadequate, but Lewis just feels sympathy for him and wants to help.] And yet here they are, and Max can't even run away.

"Max?" Lewis says, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Or maybe that's concern, not confusion, in his voice. [It's both.] Max never has been very good at reading him.

"Yeah," Max says, lamely, as if Lewis needs confirmation.

"Are you okay?" Lewis's hand is still on his shoulder. His eyes scan to Max's bloody knee. "Should I call an ambulance?" [I mean, imagine if you saw one of your colleagues have a high speed car crash, and then the next time you see them, months later, they're on the ground bleeding copiously. Alarming!!]

"An ambulance?" Max scowls, barely resisting the urge to jerk away from Lewis’s suffocating touch. "No, I don't need an ambulance. Just help me up." [Max is like, "He must think I'm so dumb," but really Lewis is just like, "But how hurt is he!?"]

He knows as soon as he says it that it's a terrible idea. He’s pretty sure he can't stand on his own right now. But it's too late, Lewis is already putting his shoulder up under Max's arm, grabbing him by the waist, and pulling him upright with a strength that Max wouldn't be able to match even on a good day. Max's head spins, and he finds himself leaning heavily on Lewis, but luckily Lewis doesn't seem in a hurry to move away.

"I didn't even know you were in Monaco," Lewis says. "How long have you been here?" [His thinking is that if Max has only been here, like, a day, then it's possible Daniel does know, but word hasn't gotten around yet.]

Max is too tired and in too much pain to come up with a lie. "Almost three weeks," he says. [But nope. In three weeks, if Daniel (or probably any of the other drivers) knew Max was in Monaco, word would definitely have gotten back to Lewis. This confirms no one else knows. Granted, I probably am taking some liberties here with how well the drivers know each other and how much they communicate, BUT this is fanfiction, and that is my prerogative, lol. Part of my reasoning is that everyone would have seen how broken up Daniel was after the crash, so they would be communicating more with him to make sure he's okay/get updates on whether he's hear from Max.]

Lewis raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't comment. Max is grateful for that much. Maybe Lewis isn't the worst possible person to have stumbled across him after all.

"Well, there's no way you're getting home like that," Lewis says, "and I doubt a taxi driver wants you bleeding all over their seat. Here." He shifts his grip, makes Max lean on him. "My place is a couple blocks away. Let's try to get you cleaned up at least."

Max wants to say no, but he can't see how he has any other options. Lewis is right about the taxi situation, and the thought of trying to limp all the way home makes him want to cry. Fuck, he's such an idiot. What must Lewis be thinking of him right now. Too weak to even run properly. Too stupid to know better than to try it in the first place. All the people who thought he was never on Lewis's level must feel vindicated now. If Lewis was the one who'd crashed, he'd simply superhero his way out of it in a week or two, not languish pathetically for months like Max has. [This paragraph is so telling of Max's mental state, because obviously it's all complete and total bullshit. Again, of course Lewis isn't judging him for something that was completely not his fault, but also just the fact that Max thinks it's some defect within himself that he hasn't recovered faster or better? Just ridiculous. That said, he's at a low point right now, so it makes sense that he isn't thinking rationally.]

"Fine," Max grunts. He knows he sounds ungrateful and bratty but if Lewis minds, he keeps it well hidden. [Lewis does mind, a little bit. This isn't exactly a comfortable interaction for him either, since he and Max have never been friends. It's harder to know how to help someone when you don't really know them, so Lewis is sort of fumbling in the dark here.] He resituates himself under Max's arm and tugs him into a first few stumbling steps.

A couple blocks feels like fifty when Max's entire body throbs like a bruise and this is the closest he's been to another person since he left Belgium. He can barely make his feet move, which means Lewis is dragging him as much as leading him, and he has to struggle against the urge to shrink away, which would be very much counterproductive. They don't speak, and it's awkward as fuck, but Max is grateful for it anyway. His breathing is so labored he's not sure he could force words out anyway, and what would they even talk about? Racing? The upcoming season? Or how Max spent the last few months of his life? [Lewis of course has way too much emotional intelligence to even consider bringing up any of these extremely sore subjects. Even asking how Max is doing is difficult, and Lewis spends most of the scene silently puzzling over how best to do it.] The moping, the struggling. No, Max would rather die. He'd rather sit right down in the street and let himself succumb to exposure.

It doesn't occur to him until Lewis is keying them into his building that Max never even knew where he lived. He's certainly never been invited over—not that he ever asked Lewis over to his place either. [Even though I'm taking some liberties of the closeness of the drivers, I don't think even in this universe that Lewis has probably had any of the other drivers over to his place. He def wouldn't have invited Max if it wasn't necessary.] It seems too intimate, like Lewis is about to strip in front of him. The blood rushes to his face at the thought, and he’s glad he’s probably so red-faced from exertion that Lewis won’t notice.

"Sorry," he says when he's standing just inside the door of Lewis's flat, watching the blood run down his own leg and thinking about how unlikely it is that he'll get out of here without leaving a stain somewhere.

"Bathroom's this way," Lewis says, as if he isn't just going to drag Max there anyway. He flicks on the light and sits Max down on the lid of the toilet, and Max has to brace himself with his palms on either side of him in order to stay upright. His shirt is half-soaked with sweat and his eyes sting with it.

"Can I have a towel?" he asks. When Lewis gives him a look, he gestures at his face. "Not for my leg." [Max being so worried about messing up Lewis's apartment and towels and things? Relatable.]

"Mhm." Lewis disappears from the room, then returns with a towel in one hand and a handful of gauze, bandages, and tape in the other. "I can't promise this will be pretty."

"You can't make it worse," Max says as he takes the towel and carefully mops at his face, avoiding Lewis's eyes.

If Max thought it was awkward before, it’s agonizing now. In silence, Lewis swipes at Max's leg with a wet washcloth. [I mentioned briefly, I think, that originally I had Max running into Daniel in this first chapter, but I couldn't make it work. Even though it's awkward with Lewis, Max isn't as emotionally invested in what Lewis thinks of him, so this interaction is lower stakes in a way that helped break the seal on Max interacting with other drivers again, and also provided a good way for Daniel to find out Max is in Monaco.] It’s clear he’s taking some care with Max, and Max's face flames, his eyes fixed on the ceiling and his teeth working at the inside of his cheek until his mouth taste like copper.

"Did you—" Lewis starts, then pauses, a furrow in his brow. "Did you just trip, or—?"

"No, I fell on purpose," Max deadpans. He knows what Lewis is asking, though, and that only makes it worse.

"I mean, how have you been doing? After the crash and everything?"

Max forgets sometimes that Lewis is every bit as stubborn as he is. "Is it not in the news?" [The fact that Max doesn't know the answer to this question points to how much people around him are protecting him without his knowledge. Obviously he isn't paying attention to the news, but also he clearly didn't actually tell anyone not to talk to the press; they all made that decision on their own.]

"No," Lewis says. He tosses the bloody washcloth into the sink and presses a square of gauze against the scrape on Max's knee. "I guess your people are doing a good job of keeping anything from leaking. I assume Horner knows things, but he's certainly not sharing with me, of all people." [Not that Lewis would ask. It's hard enough for Daniel to ask Christian for info. Like Lewis is going to? Pah-hah. He'll either get it from Daniel, or from Seb who got it from Charles who got it from Daniel.]

Why would it even matter now? Max wants to ask. But deeply ingrained loyalty to Christian makes him bite his tongue. "It has been...difficult," he says instead. "You know I won't be racing this year."

Lewis nods once. He's piling too much gauze on the wound now, but Max doesn't bother to stop him. Now that some of the adrenaline is wearing off, Max is starting to feel woozy, and he's glad most of the blood has been cleaned up. Not that he's ever been squeamish, but right now, he'd rather not press his luck.

"I know you aren't," Lewis says, glancing up at him and then quickly down again. "But you were running, so." [Lewis is definitely not threatened the idea of Max coming back to racing eventually. Maybe that goes without saying, but I'm saying it just in case, haha.]

"Not very well," Max grumbles. He dropped the towel a while ago, but now he looks down at where it lays on the tile and wishes he could reach it, to hide his face again.

Lewis winds some tape around Max's leg a couple times, then leans in to rip it with his teeth. [Of course I don't, like, ship it, but this moment is still id fulfillment for the juxtaposition of uncomfortableness and hurt-comfort and just...the sheer hotness of Lewis ripping tape with his teeth while on his knees tbh.] Max is struck by how surreal this is, this intimate moment with someone he doubted he would be this close to ever again. Even if he ever manages to pull himself together enough to be involved in racing in some way—working with an existing team or doing press or something else he'd surely be phenomenally bad at—he thought he would see Lewis across the paddock at most. They were never friends. The media might have made their rivalry more personal than it ever was, but still. They were never even close to being friends, and Max can’t see why that would ever change.

Lewis sits back, rests his forearms on his knees, and lets the silence stretch until Max is forced to meet his eyes. "Look," he says, "I just want to say—"

"No," Max says. If he had the strength, he would get up and walk away, but instead he's going to be forced to sit here and listen to whatever Lewis is going to say next—and he's certain he doesn't want to hear it. [The awkwardness is easier for Max to handle than Lewis attempting to be nice to him. Ugh.]

"I just want to say," Lewis presses on, undeterred, "that I never would have wanted this to happen to you."

Max rolls his eyes so hard it makes his head ache. "I know. Don't be stupid."

"Do you?" Lewis asks, raising his eyebrows, "because people have certainly suggested that it's convenient for me that you—"

"Who suggested?" Max asks, clenching his hands into fists. Is that what people are saying? That Max's crash was convenient? Convenient for who? Certainly not for Max. And even though he doesn't know Lewis very well, he knows that if their positions were reversed, he wouldn't want his biggest rival to go out like this either. You're only the best if you can beat the best, and you can't beat the best if they fucking crash. For all their differences, he's fairly sure he and Lewis agree at least on this point. [Yes, of course Lewis would agree with this, but, as he goes on to try to explain, that's not really what he means, and it's telling that this is exactly what Max jumps to. His self-worth is so tied to racing that he thinks the only reason Lewis would care about his crash is not because of Max's intrinsic worth as a human being, but because he's no longer competition.]

But, to his surprise, Lewis gives him an exasperate look and shakes his head. "That's not the point, anyway. I mean, regardless of the championship or any of that, I'm sorry about what happened to you." He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, then shrugs. "It was gutting to see that happen to you. You’re so young—" [One thing Max doesn't really seem to consider is how seeing him crash was also traumatic for the people who witnessed it, particularly other drivers who were faced with fear of their own mortality.]

Max can't listen to this anymore. He can't. Ignoring his aching head, his sore limbs, he pushes himself to his feet and steps right over Lewis. [To be fair to Max, there's something inherently uncomfortable about hearing people try to express sympathy when you're going through something terrible. He does need to hear it, but also, I think his need to run away is understandable.] His vision blurs, and he doesn't think he can blame the pain entirely, but if he can just make it to the door before Lewis stops him...

"Max!" A hand closes on his elbow, and he's too fucking weak to resist it, so he stops, clenching his jaw and keeping his face turned away. "Look, at least let me give you some Tylenol. [Tylenol? Like that'll help, lol.] And call you a cab." [Lewis wouldn't have been able to sleep if Max left angry and injured and he would have no way of knowing if he got home safe.]

Helpless to do anything else, Max plops down on the arm of a nearby chair and waits for Lewis to go away and come back with a couple pills and a glass of water. Silence descends on them again, and this time, even if it’s awkward, Max is grateful for it. At least Lewis knows when to leave well enough alone. Lewis pulls out his phone and swipes through a few apps, taps around for a minute or two.

“Someone will be here soon,” he says at last. “Can I help you downstairs?”

Max shakes his head. Even if he couldn’t walk, he’d crawl rather than let Lewis help him any more than he already has. He has never felt so pathetic in his life, and the sooner he can get out of here and forget all about this interaction, the better.

Lewis rubs absently at his chest, then sighs. “If you need anything, will you call me? Anything at all.” [He is 100% sure Max will never, ever call him for any reason. But it's fine, because he already knows he's calling Daniel immediately after that, which is for him the emotional equivalent of giving him Tylenol and calling an Uber. His work here is done.]

“I’m fine,” Max croaks. Then, when he realizes how dumb he sounds, he scowls. “I will be fine.”

“I know,” Lewis says, and the worst part is, it sounds like he means it. [Because of Daniel! Daniel will make sure Max is fine!!] Not for the first time, Max wishes he had even a fraction of his conviction. [I think it's very hard for Max to admit admiration for Lewis, because he's once again worried it makes him seem weak.]

#replies #little drops #directors commentary #again this is way too long and i apologize

[bsaka7]

Oh Boy dirtbag!Daniel. Say more.

thank u!!!! okay i almost don't WANT to say more bc this is actually a fic i want to write but who knows if/when i'll find the time. doing this as procrastinating this paper i should work on. anyway. talked about with milo as always. under the cut because this is filthy in theory

one - max/daniel, monaco, 2018-ish

like i said, max is too young for it to really be good for either of them. i think this thing with max also goes on for maybe the longest daniel has done it with anyone. it's not exclusive, for daniel, obviously, and he thinks max is kind of pathetic because whenever he knocks, max answers. but i think at the same time. he does like max, genuinely, off the track and as a teammate but this - this lets him think he's better than max even when he's outqualified. and on some level daniel is pathetically grateful though he'd never admit it because he sort of thinks he'll never drive max away either. this i think is okay for daniel and max - daniel is it for max, whether or not either of them know it. and i don't think max realizes quite how much he's being strung along and how much better it could be. daniel gets off on the attention, the way max is so responsive, but like i said before. he also thinks max is somehow beneath him for it. daniel chooses pleasure. max - he's something else entirely. obviously they're both focused on racing but max only has racing and this.

two - daniel/charles, las vegas, 2019

in some way i think this is the heart of the fic. daniel has fun with charles because charles is fun. out of anyone here, this is undoubtebly the best sex. but charles scares daniel a little bit. charles has bite in him. he's smart and he wants to be liked and he wants to be good and he gets what he wants. charles could probably eat daniel from the inside out if he wanted to. charles sees through whatever games daniel wants to play.

interlude one - daniel/pierre, unknown, 2019

this is a parallel to max it’s a parallel to charles. short section. shows what daniel does with regret but also when he really doesn’t care about the person at all in any context.

three - daniel/lando, london, 2021

this is obviously about performance and control, in a very explicit way. he is losing to lando. he can beat lando in sex - he can get something out of it that lando doesn't and he can make it so lando will keep crawling into his bed. daniel doesn't care about how lando is doing, about how much lando likes it, he just likes having power over him. fuck him dump him make him beg fuck someone else make fuck lando fuck a stranger and call him through it and daniel doesn't pay attention. as milo said, it's not malicious, it's uncaring about lando as a person, and it's a power trip. he's pushing lando's limits off the track, and it's always a question of what will happen. on track. i think daniel thinks lando cares about him more than he does but this is daniel's pov so. yeah. and it's not like it's not good for him, most of the time, too.

interlude two - daniel/jenson, london, undated

daniel is a dirtbag daniel is easy daniel is assertive but mostly he likes sex. i think the implication here is that it's while jenson is still racing. daniel is young. jenson is nice to him. daniel's teeth are out. this is very short, as a contrast, maybe.

four - daniel/max, undecided, 2021

even at this point, daniel is the only one on the grid that max has fucked around with. i think this is like. the clarity of the fic. like. daniel’s actions are very much tied to daniel’s sort of cycle of self-sabotage, of reframe, of try again. i don’t think he’d recognize it as the need it is - as sex as the catalyst between feeling bad to feeling good to feeling bad again. sex with his teammates, with his competitors, after a bad race, that’s better than anything. i think this is. almost a reversal. max goes to daniel, this time. i think max goes into it knowing what to expect. he thinks daniel will say yes (re: daniel is easy). i think maybe - they haven’t hooked up in years. max said no. daniel said it was over. max thought it was over. but maybe it’s not over. maybe it’ll be better if - if max gets what he wants. i think like this is partially him looking for outlets outside of racing. something to get him out of his head - because like. before. with daniel. it was better, sometimes. and i think like. daniel likes it more than he expected - being the choice when he didn’t think he would be again, even if again. still has a haughty arrogance. but it’s also a wash of shame because like. max is winning. is this the other way around?? is max playing games? i don’t know. this is the least clear section because it comes to some sort of crecendo.

#sorry its daniel max its always daniel max #ask #sorry i didnt write much about the actual sex here thats uhhh for the fic if u actually read it #or if i actually write it #this is like. how i talk to people about fic though i suppose #idk. maybe this is interesting maybe it is not #today literally has been extremely long great to sit around and answer this

[stuck-in-hawkins]

When He Left- October 29th 1993

Stranger Things Fanfic

Pairing: Will Byers/ Mike Wheeler

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656785/chapters/69920109

Will jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. The dream was forgotten as soon as he woke, but the fear lingered like smoke. The way his heart was pounding he knew enough to tell it had been a nightmare of the mind flayer sort. Running… that was all he could remember. The air seemed denser and harder to breathe. He had to concentrate on each breath. His body didn’t feel like his own, it felt like a puppet he was trying to command. And a new sensation prickled at his spine: Cold.

He froze, straining his ears for a sound, anything that resembled the guttural, animal sounds of the demon who had haunted his nights for the past 10 years. He heard something out in the living room.

Mike. He was sleeping on the couch. He would be able to shake Will out of this in-between state. He’d go out, see Mike, and reality would set in again.

He opened the door quietly, or at least, he opened it slowly. He couldn’t hear much over the pounding in his ears and the gnawing sounds that he knew was just the remains of the night terror. It was just the normal sounds of the fan blades spinning mixed with all the chattering noise of the city. They would be familiar again once he’d shaken off the lingering fears. They would stop sounding like the chewing of flesh.

He couldn’t trust his senses. He just had to speak to someone who could shake him out of it. He didn’t feel embarrassment in that moment, he could feel nothing else but the fear and cold. He walked down the hallway. He could see the back of the couch and Mike’s shadow as he moved. Will was trying to make it out in the dark. Mike must have unplugged the night light in the hallway. Will could only see by what the street lights illuminated from the window.

It looked like Mike’s back was arched. Will’s stomach dropped as he saw the taut gray skin stretched over sinew. The sounds of chewing. He stepped on a board and the creak drew the attention of the demogorgon, who looked at him with its blood stained rows of teeth and screeched.

Will gasped and opened his eyes. He was still in his room, he could breathe again. He took in every sense he could: the smell of his sweat soaked sheets, the wind on his skin as the fan circulated the air, the click of the clock as the numbers flipped from 4:49 to 4:50, the warm glow from the night light in his room. He whipped off the sheets and took in breath after breath, trying to slow them down, to hold onto the air in his lungs and stave off hyperventilation. With every sense, he distanced himself from the sensories of the dream. Upon waking, he’d realized how many of these things had been missing from the dream but… it all felt so real.

He put his head in his hands and sobbed. His brain had played with the cruelest of scenarios… losing Mike. He had to see. He knew it had been a dream but he had to see Mike and make sure he was still there.

He opened his door without caring for the sound now. He didn’t want to play into the fear. He listened to each step echo as he padded his way into the living room. He got to the couch and looked over to see Mike sleeping soundly. His long curls scattered across the pillow, the gentle breeze of air through his lips.

Will clutched his chest, his heart was still thumping against the inside of his rib cage. Slow breaths. Come back down, he coached himself. Mike was okay. He was sleeping peacefully, untouched.

His own mind had betrayed him. To have twisted reality into such a cruel form. To let him think he was dead...

Would it do this to him every night that Mike was here?

There was a stirring on the couch and Will wiped his eyes. Mike had turned to lie on his back. Will watched Mike’s chest rise and fall. He knew he shouldn’t be out here, hovering over Mike. God forbid he woke up and saw him. He’d think Will was a creep, or Will would have to tell him his dream. Both were equally awful scenarios. So, he turned back towards his room to wait for daylight, knowing there was no way he’d be able to sleep.

As he made his way to the hall, his foot caught the strap of Mike’s backpack and nearly toppled him over.

“Fuck!” He hissed, catching himself.

“Will?” Came that beautiful, groggy voice. He remembered a time, however brief, when it had been the first sound he heard in the morning.

“Sorry… I just came out for some water.” He didn’t look back.

“Are you okay?” Mike sat up on the couch, dazed and concerned.

“Y-yeah.” And Will heard his voice waver. It gave him away. He turned to Mike, he’d have to face him after a failed attempt like that. He faked a smile and gave a thumbs up. Another pathetic attempt, he chided himself.

He could see the worry in Mike’s brow, in those big brown eyes. He wordlessly pleaded Will not to go.

Will hesitated and Mike took the opportunity, “Can you show me how to work the TV? I kind of like to have background noise while I sleep.”

Will knew what it was. Mike was coaxing him to the couch, bringing him in, the way he used to after an episode. Mike had learned over the years not to expect an honest answer from the question, ‘Are you okay?’

Will made his way over, “What? You aren’t lulled to sleep by the serene sounds of the city?” Will played it off with sarcasm but he was still shaken. He grabbed the remotes. “This one is for the TV and this one is for the VCR. We don’t have a lot of channels but I can get out a movie if you want.”

“Just the TV’s fine.”

Will turned it on. There were lions stalking in tall grass. National Geographic.

Mike said, “This is good.”

Will nodded, and forced a smile. “Remind you of home?”

“Oh, yeah. The wilderness of Indiana.”

Mike reached over Will’s hand and took the remote, their fingers touched for a moment. Nothing felt more tempting in the whole world. To just take Mike’s hand, to fall into him, to lose himself in those arms. But knowing now why Mike was there, he couldn’t. He had wanted to tell Mike; to be upfront about his feelings, but how could he? Mike, Lucas, and Max were all coming out of concern for Will, to wait out the anniversary. He didn’t want to put Mike in a position of having to turn him down.

Still, Will was weak and wishing for comfort. He ought to leave. He had been about to get up when he saw the lion tear at the flesh of a gazelle and he jerked his head away. The image of blood dripping from the demon’s mouth was still fresh from the dream. Mike changed the channel quickly. Will put his head in his hands. So much for playing it off.

Mike’s hand was on his arm. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you don’t have to pretend either.”

Will couldn’t look at him. “Dustin told you.”

“About the night terrors? Yeah, he did.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. Just that they were coming back.”

“That’s it?” Will brought his hands down and searched Mike’s face for the truth.

“Yeah. I swear, Will. I was worried and kept asking him what was up but he said that if I wanted to know… I could come here, and ask you myself.”

Will looked ahead and nodded. Dustin really was a good friend.

Mike said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”

“What are you talking about? We talk on the phone all the time.”

“But I’m not here.”

Will shrugged, “You’re here when it matters.”

Will didn’t say it in so many words, but Mike knew what he’d meant. The last time he’d come to California had been for June’s funeral. Will and June hadn’t dated since high school there but they had still been close. Will took care of him at the end. When it was all hospital visits, talking with nurses, and a long goodbye that stretched over days. After his death, Will’s grief had pulled a fog over those days and they all seemed to blur together. But Mike had been there for him, like a lighthouse in a storm.

Mike’s voice was soft, “Do you want to talk about what you saw?”

Will shook his head, “Not really…”

“Okay. Do you want to watch something out here for a bit?”

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“You won’t. Look.” He plopped his head down on Will’s shoulder and slumped over, “I’m already asleep.”

Will could feel his senses ignite under the touch with an all too pleasant warmth. It was a welcome feeling that shook away the memory of the all encompassing cold from his dream. He wondered if Mike was doing it on purpose. If he knew how the touch was sweeping away the terror.

He playfully smooshed his hand into Mike’s face, “Oh yeah? Fast asleep, right?’

Mike laughed and sat up. He flicked through the few channels between the static noise. The gray crackle alerting them when he’d reached the last channel. In the early hours, the only things that seemed to be on were infomercials and televangelists. Mike avoided the National Geographic channel and as he was flicking back, he heard the familiar notes, ‘-beautiful day in the neighborhood.” He clicked back to it and looked at Will with a wry smile.

“We are not watching this.” Will said.

“What’s wrong with Mr. Rogers?”

“We are two grown-”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t have a Daniel the Tiger stuffed animal. You smothered that thing for all of Kindergarten and brought it over to most sleepovers until you were 10.”

Will fired back, “What about you? Remember that library questionnaire in 2nd grade? When you were scared to put it down as your favorite show?”

“I’ve grown past my denial stage unlike you. Besides, if there is any show that will help us fall back asleep, it’s this one.”

“I don’t know. QVC could do the job just fine.”

Mike handed Will the remote and sat back so that their arms were touching. The sensation echoed through Will’s every nerve ending. He left the show on and laid back, leaning into the touch ever so slightly.

Will didn’t know what he was doing. It was a bad idea to be this close to Mike after an episode. Everything in him longed to curl up into him, to let himself be held. And Mike was just there, toeing the line. Offering enough touch to make it all confusing, to send him into the stars wishing and hoping for something that he knew couldn’t happen. Mike would never leave Hawkins. And Will wouldn’t leave California.

All the same, Will didn’t want to go back to bed. He’d rather stay in the uncertainty, absorbing every kindness, gesture, and touch. He was scared to close his eyes in that dark room lest he return to the same hellish visions.

They watched through the episode and made jibes at the ridiculousness but then a moment came on and both of them got kind of quiet. The man named Clemmons sang, “There Are Many Ways to Say I Love You,” and Will caught Mike staring intently, the way he did when he was looking for meaning in a movie scene.

Mike caught Will’s quizzical look and answered it, “I never realized how profound this show was. I mean it’s a little hokey. But, no one… talks about love like that. Just so openly.” He shrugged, “Two guys sitting with their feet in a pool singing about love… who does that? It feels embarrassing to watch, but I wish it wasn’t.” He said quietly, “I wish it was more normal to do that.”

Will responded, “I think, it doesn’t feel normal because it’s for kids, so everything is said out loud and in the open, so it can be explained. Things that aren’t usually talked about.”

“I guess. I don’t know. I… there have been moments with you guys, where I just-” he shrugged, “When you guys all flew back home to see El after we found her… I went to bring in El’s lunch and everyone was around her bed, trying to comfort her. I remember just wishing I could have said it right then. That there was some way to tell you all…”   ____________________________________________________________________

Will remembered that day. How eerie and unfamiliar El was. The last time he had seen her, she had been all rage, hell bent on finding Brenner. She had left a hole in their lives, all to destroy the man who had once been a nightmare but had come to haunt her days. When Hopper found El, wandering the streets of New York, they all thought she had lost, that Brenner had scrambled her brain the way he had with her mother.

It was months later that they pieced it all together: the CAT scans that showed the scarred tissue in her brain, the article of a burned down government facility in Montauk, New York written by a familiar journalist. She had pushed herself too far. She sacrificed everything to make sure that there was never a 012.

Will stood in the room with this shell of their former friend. The girl who had whispered words of hope all those years ago, who had shut out the demons from the other world, was silent and stared like she was looking beyond the people gathered around her, somewhere far off.

Will remembered the heavy sinking feeling in his gut, wondering how long Mike would still be chasing her. Mike finally had El back, but only in body. Her mind, her personality, everything else that Mike had loved about her once was gone. What if Mike was hoping for something that El was no longer capable of?

When Mike had come back into the room, holding the tray of waffles, he looked so uncertain, like he was afraid to hope. But then he had looked up at his friends, and his eyes looked glassy, and a small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ___________________________________________________________

Will pondered about the moment and about the song, “I think that's exactly what they are saying. Love doesn’t have to be said to be felt. I remember that moment, by the way, you coming into the room. You had this look and you were saying it, even if you didn’t know you were.”

And there was this soulful look in Mike’s eyes, of genuine love and gratitude. It made Will want to melt.

It was quiet for a moment. And suddenly Will didn’t trust himself. Talking about love with Mike, being so weak after an episode, it all made him just want to pull Mike in close. To have their lips crash in a sensation that was only a faded memory now.

So, Will redirected their focus, “How’s El been? Has there been any progress with her talking?”

Mike shook his head. “The doctors say that she probably won’t be able to talk again. They’re calling it global aphasia but they can’t explain the scar tissue. Global aphasia is normally something that happens after a stroke… affects all the areas of that part of the brain, not only speaking language but understanding it. The scar tissue wasn’t just from Montauk. It was built up over time. Everytime she used her powers… she was using that part of her brain… communicating and it was all hurting her. The only way the doctor could really explain her condition was to compare it with concussions. Just recurring injury overtime. Never being given the chance to heal…”

“Maybe… maybe he has it wrong. I mean he doesn’t know the whole story, right?”

Mike shook his head, “He may not have all the pieces. But everything he’s saying makes sense. So, we’re going to stop trying to rebuild her language. It's only been frustrating and... in all likelihood... it can't come back. It makes no sense to push her. So, we’ve been using sign language and there’s been a lot more progress. She can sign basic functions, hunger, bathroom, hot, cold, tired. She doesn’t have as many outbursts now. She still can get overwhelmed at times and then the signs go out the window but… yeah.” Mike could hear his own frustration and apologized, “Sorry. I don't mean to complain.”

“It’s not complaining, Mike. You’re allowed to talk about the tough parts, you don’t have to gloss it over.”

Mike sighed, “I know. I just hate sounding like a downer. I am happy to have her back. And this is improvement.”

“It is.” Will had to make every effort to keep the concern out of his voice. He knew the toll it was all taking on Mike and Hopper.

“And, she has really started to join the space a little more. She’s mostly in her own world but she’ll come to the dinner table, sit with us for TV. And I’ve been taking her out places lately, just around town. A little at a time. She actually seems to look forward to them now. It’s nice.”

Will faked a smile, “That’s great.” He wanted to be happy for Mike that he’d found a way to be content but an old worry crept, wanting a foothold in the conversation.

Mike turned toward the TV and fell silent, having read some sign in Will’s face. “Don’t pity me, Will, please. Not you.”

The comment shot through Will. All those times he hated when people had done the very same to him, “I don’t!”

“Then, say what you actually were thinking. Please.”

Will averted his eyes, his fingers fiddling with the throw pillow. “You… you do things for yourself too, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Will instantly wanted to recoil, to backtrack the conversation. But it had been weighing on him for months.

“It’s just… over this past year… just…” Why couldn’t he get the words out? He breathed and tried to make the thoughts coherent. He hated how the words would just get stuck inside him.

He finally shoved the words out. “You used to volunteer for IYG. You used to go to game nights at the comic book store. You used to go on dates… but since El started living with you… one by one. All those things have stopped.” He took the risk of looking Mike’s way and he could see it. The way his brow crinkled when he was about to get defensive. But he also saw him trying to hold it back.

“Look, I get why- why you’re concerned. But I’m okay. My life has just- it’s changed. It’s changed a lot. I can’t do a lot of the same stuff: volunteering at the youth group, those game nights- they would take up several hours. They were commitments. And I just don’t have that kind of time, anymore.”

“And the dating?”

Mike shook his head. “It was more stressful and aggravating than it was worth. It felt like I was constantly feeling either rejected or disappointed. And once I stopped chasing, once I just decided to stop, I felt so much better. Like the pressure was off. So now, I do the domestic stuff. The cooking, maintaining the house, taking care of El, and I enjoy it, Will. Maybe it’s not the type of life you or Dustin would want, but I’m content with it.”

That last part had hurt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I worry is all. You give too much of yourself, Mike. You give your all until there’s nothing left.”

Mike took in Will’s words, considered them. “I have Hopper and your mom. They give me a break when I need it. And I do things for myself, too. I’ve been reading a lot more. And, while I don’t have a novel planned out, I’m getting ideas. I want to write again. When my coworkers get together on lunch break, I will usually go out with them, as long as it’s not in a bar. I do things. I promise I am okay.”

Will nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Mike got up, “You don’t need to apologize, Will. I don't think you're the only one that's thought it, but you're the only one that's talked about it. It's sort of become the elephant in the room. I… I’m sort of glad you asked. Talking about it with you, I..." He stumbled over his words, "Just... Thank you for listening.” He threw a smile over his shoulder as walked over to his suitcase.

Will’s heart jumped like it was catching the smile. Mike's sincere words nestled themselves in Will's rib cage. Mike had been so open. Will knew what was coming. They were unloading burdens from their mind and now the ball was in his court. He had just asked Mike something very personal. It was Will’s turn to offer something back, he’d have to tell him about the nightmare. But he’d wait to be asked.

Mike offered, “Let’s make breakfast.”

Will blinked. “What?”

“Breakfast. I am insanely hungry right now. I don’t know if it’s a jet lag but I’m wide awake and ready for the day.” He took out his clothes for the day from his suitcase and pulled out a grocer’s bag.

“But… it’s not even 5 in the morning. You’ll be exhausted.”

“Yeah. It’ll probably mean another early night for me.”

“But aren’t you going back to sleep?”

“Are you?” Mike looked up, eyebrows raised, taking the supplies into the kitchen and setting them out on the counter.

Will answered honestly, “Probably not.”

“Then might as well take the opportunity to make you my world famous chocolate peanut butter pancakes.”

“I’m sorry, your what?”

“Chocolate peanut butter pancakes.” He pulled out a jar of peanut butter from the bag.

“No. I mean ‘World Famous’. You can’t claim that status unless anyone else has tried them outside of Indiana.”

“Official title is pending.” He then took out some Reese’s Cups, cocoa, pancake mix, and chocolate chips.

Will laughed, “Did you pack those?”

“Nah. Dustin took me to the store yesterday. I knew I wanted to make them sometime this week. And turns out today’s the day.”

Will smiled as he watched Mike start getting things ready in the kitchen. He got up from the couch to help Mike find all the necessary supplies. Will couldn’t help the happiness floating up inside him. He knew he owed Mike a conversation but for now, he was just all smiles. Mike was giving up his sleep to be awake beside Will. He knew what Mike was doing. It was to distract him from the fear, to distract them both from the weights they carried. For the moment, it was all someplace far away. For this morning, they were just two friends stumbling around the kitchen, making a mess. Will watched Mike mix up the ingredients, his profile more gorgeous than ever as the early morning light began to come in through the windows. Although Will’s old wounds echoed their memories, warning him, Will couldn’t stop himself from falling in love all over again.

#byeler #byler #byler fanfic #byeler fanfic #byler fanfiction #byeler fanfiction #byler fic #byeler fic #will byers #mike wheeler #will/ mike #mike/will #will byers loves mike wheeler #mike wheeler loves will byers #byler fluff #byler angst #byeler fluff #byeler angst #angst #fluff #hurt/ comfort #byeler hurt/ comfort #byler hurt/ comfort #nightmares #will byers is gay #gay will byers #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic

[yakumtsaki]

Ok I knew I hadn’t posted Unions in forever but good lord. The screenshots after, not before, AFTER this.. are the previews for this. Like we’re literally talking ancient history here. Let’s dive right in and see if we can wrap this up sometime during a human’s natural lifespan. SO when we left off we were desperately trying to make friends for Wyatt’s final promotion, ‘desperately’ being the operative word. We’ve done some pathetic shit in our time but shittalking each other to Apartment Life nobodies is honestly peak gutter, so you know. our natural environment. Spoiler alert, the kids are teens now and Wyatt has still not gotten promoted! Truly the Picasso of incompetence.

Good ol’ uncle Gunther is also here for some reason which I’m guessing is ‘came over uninvited’ but at least someone is paying attention to Shajar for once. Beggars can’t be choosers and Gunther as a father figure is the equivalent of someone leaving a button and good vibes in your cup. 

-So you see Shajar, life is nothing but a slow march towards our certain doom so who cares if your parents hate you?? My parents hated me till adulthood and I turned out amazing as you can surely tell by my stripes/plaid/indoor sunglasses combo!

-Think long and hard before procreating, brother, because there’s no guarantee you’ll even like your kids. Looking at you, Shajar.

-Um can I go now?

-Don’t know why you’re here in the first place and not in the crypt where we’ve set up your bed and everything! Kids these days.

Oh right, Brit Brit is also here so I guess I did invite these douchebags over. Way to go @ me.

-BRITTANY HOW COULD YOU TEAR THE MORAL FABRIC OF OUR WIFE-SWAPPING-BASED LIFE PARTNERSHIP LIKE THIS???? JUST STEAL ONE OF THEIR PETS LIKE AN UPSTANDING CITIZEN 

DON’T YOU DARE BRIT-

Ugh nevermind, it’s Sophie aka Brittany in cat form. Take her!

And take Shajar too while you’re at it cause absolutely not @ Victoria dying but the gnome drama living on. ENOUGH. This almost makes me appreciate Cyneswith’s ridiculous 10 nice points for a split second..

..but then I turn around and see this. GOOD GRIEF. How did Jojo and Wyatt produce vegan Tinkerbell here not even god knows.

This alliance of obnoxiousness is but the first in what is gonna become a running theme of every annoying flop in this neighborhood looooooving Maxx. Can’t keep kindred spirits apart for long! Honestly this legacy is turning me from pet maniac to Captain Ahab, like on one hand you have fucking Maxx who hasn’t done anything yet but just you wait till he grows up- 

-and on the other you have FUCKING VICTOR’S GHOST TRYING TO KILL US EVERY NIGHT. Apparently Victor + being a dick = a love not even death can tear asunder. Seriously tg kids can’t die cause these overactive freaks are up all night till the sun, are up all night to get some (entertainment), are up all night for good fun, are up all night to get lucky murdered.

This happens about 3000 times per night, I’m not even taking pics of it anymore, but it’s worth pointing out that everyone in this house, both alive/dead and human/non has a raging hate boner for Shajar in particular. It’s uncanny and depressing..

..and speaking of depressing, UGH. My poor, poor Shajar. I actually attempted to intervene and have them interact being the moron that I am:

JOJO WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM 

.....................................WHERE IS VICTOR’S GHOST WHEN I NEED IT

Yea sure, waste your niceness reserves on fucking Goro here instead, who isn’t even the cat heir and is about to go live on the farm (not a euphemism, Daniel and Melody’s literal farm). This Jojo fuckery is seriously starting to bum me out on top of pissing me off, let me find something cute to look at to raise my spirits..

No.

No.

NO.

Disturbing stuff.

Seems about right.

Old habits die hard.

No.

Ugh.

Ugh.

UGH.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

FINALLY. THANK YOU CATS. Now let’s get back to this nightmare..

..and I mean nightmare in the technical sense of something not real occurring when you’re asleep, because Wyatt maxing a skill is truly the stuff of Taylor Swift-Wildest Dreams.mp3. It’s official, the only thing standing between us and Wyatt’s LTW is social ineptitude. But what if we revolutionize the friend game by approaching someone who can’t leave..

..because she’s contractually obligated to be here?? Go for it Wyatt!

-So Kaylýnn, you have the français maid thing going, I’m French and in need of a hag, c’est match made in les paradis!

-Yea sorry, Henry III, but it’s my professional policy to not fraternize with married clients I have no chance of fucking. 

-But..but you’re just a face template fiasco!

-..I have some bad news for you.

Kaylynn left Wyatt dick in hand and went to pet the cats, so I guess the day has arrived for me to go from being the leading Langerak hater of this community to being the leading stan-

-and apparently the leading Jitmakusol stan as well, which as we all know is a large and very competitive group. DOWN WITH JOJO

Well at least you still have this invaluable stamp of approval! All I see in this pic is 3 bags of trash.

Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many assholes can one photo hold? The reason there’s more awful people in our house than usual is the “exciting” occasion of the Shajar/Wulf double birthday and honestly even by our standards this party was especially terrible. Like it makes the one where Komei and Marissa happened look like Project X.

When this is the situation 10 seconds in you know you’re in for a good time. I don’t think a single positive interaction took place this entire party and I’ve subconsciously (?) forgotten every birthday since. What a loss!

Wulf is up first, and of course since this is Wyatt’s literal one and only parenting-related job, it took 3 cakes to happen and no one is paying attention by the time it does.

Wyatt makes one last-ditch effort to kill his child via decapitation and obviously he thinks it worked thus the wide smile. But Wulf is named after the spawn of Satan, head spinning comes with the territory-

-as do incredible looks. Gunther hair + tuxedo, and you think your little yellow blazer is subversive?? Step it up.

-If the sunglasses weren’t blocking the power of my stare this child would be dead by my sheer resentment.

Happy birthday, Wulf! 2/2 surviving murder attempts.

Wulf gets this Don Corleone makeover because a) he also survived murder attempts b) wedding tuxedo c) trying to avoid a Gunther mental breakdown. He looks exactly like Wyatt, like I don’t think there’s a drop of Jojo in there..

..BUT MAN IS THE PERSONALITY PURE UNION. Another nice little addition to our ever expanding freakshow.

Shajar time and no one is paying attention now either but there’s no cake malfunction, they just don’t care! And why should they? What is she, their child?

Wyatt can’t even be bothered to stay standing for literally 10 more seconds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a parent do that before but you can always count on Wyatt for this sort of innovation. 

And this is what Shajar grows up to: Wyatt half-asleep, Daniel waiting to beat him up and the rest reacting to Wulf having shit himself. I don’t think any further comment is needed. 

Now, having lived through the experience that was Daniel and having marveled at Shajar’s seemingly genetic unlikability, I’m sure we can all tell which is the one aspiration she should under no circumstances roll because it’s going to make nails on a chalkboard seem like a fun musical break.. Yes, this is not a drill..

..we have another trainwreck firstborn who can’t get their own family not to hate them roll popularity. AND DANIEL WAS NICE. Shajar is bringing 1 nice point to the table so all I can say at this point is fml. 

And of course because the above wasn’t bad enough on its own and we always need the overkill, gaze upon whatever the fuck this is-

-YE MIGHTY AND DESPAIR. GOOD GOD SHAJAR 

LOL. Well with the custom sky this is an Under The Dome situation so technically you’re not wrong but still. fucking popularity? Leave the sky alone and aim for ‘slightly above ground’. Even that is pushing it.

Good, finally we return to reality and face the facts. Couldn’t agree more! 

#ts2 #gen 2

[midnatt-heronweather]

2020 review

Disclaimer: You won’t hear much about the virus in this. I’m not a denier, I know the damage and destruction covid19 has caused and the death toll, therefore I am not yet cold enough not to realise this is going to sound completely selfish, but that is my decision.  My reviews focus on MY year. Just so you’re aware. “I accept chaos, I’m not sure whether it accepts me.” Bob Dylan.

2020... What can I say?

This was the year I decided to officially identify as Non-Binary, not that anyone actually cares or believes me or things i'm "(insert stereotype at will)" enough. except for those very VERY rare people who do and who actually listen and hear me when I speak

Anyway -It has been a trashcan fire of a year since February/March February when I saw the Hu and Counterfeit alongside Ally. And I say February/March because that was the weekend I say my year ended...the good part anyway. Because it was that weekend when I got the ultimate honour, privilege and miracle of meeting Jason Carter, After that it was like a Dementor had French kissed the year and I can’t be the only one who thought it? Conventions and gigs postponed, rescheduled and ultimately cancelled, masks, social distancing, lockdowns the works. And can I just say - I didn’t clap, and I don’t feel in the slightest bit ashamed for it. Despite or maybe because I have friends and a few family who work in the NHS I couldn't bear to be a part of the hypocritical BS idea. I live in a country that will clap for their 'beloved' life saving NHS but then stand silent when Pay rises are frozen and when the NHS is in danger, we as a country expect a lot but don't lift a finger to gave back, clapping doesn’t pay bills. But...Bright points in the year let’s try staying positive and leaving the crap outside shall we...well... The main one has got to be that the US finally found their sense and President Elect Joe Biden will b sworn in January 20, 2021. After that... I’ll have to get back to you. Oh...no..no that’s not one... seriously I’ll have a think and get back to you. Conventions: Just one this year, for me, because of the obvious... But what a convention FCD Events presents 2258 a Babylon 5 Conventions: Where, as well as finally being among actual self confessed fans and being able to tick a b5 convention off my bucket list after starting cons way too late to attend the OG cons I did the impossible... I MET JASON CARTER... have I mentioned this? Have I? Should I say t again? I MET JASON CARTER!!! Also Mira Furlan, Tracy Scoggins and Patricia Tallman, but I met him! Finally! And... Just a reminder I did warn you guys, several times that it was likely hell would freeze over if I ever got that particular honour, do not say I didn’t. I’d never done an FCD before, I’d meant to, even bought a ticket but it just never seemed to happen, but the second someone said b5 con, I was so there! Karan Robinson made my year by making me the Anla’Shok uniform. And Nadine added the cherry on top by making the belt buckle that ONLY Marcus and Entil’Zha Sinclair wear: D (for the record: Velcro still hates me) David one of the organisers of FCD kept randomly shouting “We live for the one.” And when people other than m actually knew the response and responded... dude kick in the feels I kid you not. Next Year (Angel Willing) Adam and I are attending the Teen Wolf conventions entitled “Howl at the Moon 4” in Paris, France... which is cool on so many levels not least of which being I get to meet JR Bourne and Daniel Sharman again and get to visit the church of St Julian of the poor. And yes, there are cons planned here in the UK. But... well. It’s already looking Grey, and not the good kind. Music and Gigs: Two gigs one after the other at the 02 Ritz in Manchester. The First:

The Hu a Mongolian band who Ally really likes and I think are pretty cool. They are amazing live there’s no doubt, can hold their own in England even in a room of idiots. The 2nd :

Counterfeit (also with Ally) I went VIP and got to meet the boys again, and listen to a Q&A with them. I will forever love them, not just because of Jamie’s acting side despite what people say. Didn’t realise how special until recently though because;  after keeping fans going and hyping up new singles during lockdowns, they recently decided to go their separate ways. Jamie’s gone solo and he’s put three songs out on YouTube. _ I was meant to be attending a one off gig by Ruelle and Fleurie both of who had music used on Shadowhunters, even talked my friend Lou into it, but it was a victim of the lockdowns and things and I’m not the optimistic type so I doubt it’ll ever happen now, will be lucky if even one of the ladies comes over here if I’m honest. Recently I’ve rediscovered a love for Black Veil Brides and their leader Andy Black’s solo stuff. Olivia Hyde of Bad Pollyanna recently killed everyone in her black unicorn’s fanbase with an amazing solo album, me included. Ally has introduced me to a few interesting bands this year, *Wingtips – very 80s Goth, very Ally (translation: very cool.) *Allegiance Reign – a Japanese Samurai metal band,  not sure what Ally actually thinks of these guys, she found them while perusing YouTube and thought of me :D Suggestions greatly accepted, I am always up for giving new stuff a try. Hopefully next year things will even out and gigs will be able to be put on again. TV and Fandom’s: *We FINALLY got Roswell: New Mexico in the UK, and ITV blitzed through 2 seasons in less than a month, but it was enough for me to decide I loved it, maybe more than I did the original. Alex is my fave, but obv Michael isn’t half bad, nor is Max when he’s not making goo-goo eyes at Liz. * Finally got to see 9-1-1 Lone Star and I absolutely love it, (I kinda knew I would from all the talk) * Decided to give the Charmed reboot a 2nd look and it’s proved addictive, now waiting for s2 to be downloadable on Amazon or something. *In march I was so, so excited for the return of The Expanse and the fact the main cast were coming to a con in the UK, then.. The verse went to hell. I still Love the Expanse, but I’m not as die hard as I was, not for lack of trying. Still love it for Anna of course, any excuse to see her. *After 15 years Supernatural finally ended in 2020 with season15: I stopped watching religiously at the end of season 6 but that does not mean I stopped liking the show just that I didn’t like the direction (like with The Expanse recently) I loved watching the reaction of the fans, and how much they (we if I’m counted) mean to the cast. * I have to mention Cursed... If only to say HOLY HELL DANIEL! 𝑴𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑻𝑽 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒐𝒇 2020 Cursed 9-1-1 Lone Star & 9-1-1 Warrior Nun Prodigal Son Penny Dreadful: City of Angels Doctor who (Officially season12) Roswell s1&2 (it counts cos ITV only just got the reboots) Charmed s1&2(it counts cos E4 only just got the reboots) Call the Midwife (s9 btw) Our Girl Strike Back: Vendetta Friends: “Friendship ... is born at the moment when one man says to another "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

My understanding of "friendship." is skewed, and I’m not saying that to be "Vulcan." it’s honest, and anyone who wants to know how or why just has to ask. But let’s leave it at that for this. It makes some things more stark... and I've said this recently, but this binfire has made even me more aware of who’s out there in my verse, whose pack, who’s potential, and who’s just pathetic. The last I’m not going to waste my breath on. The first two: Pack and Potential (read: new acquaintances /potential friends) Pack: Yes I go on about friends as 'Pack like a person whose OD'd on Teen Wolf... because I am so :P My pack as a whole are varied, and spread out across this country with a few dotted around Europe and Aus. hopefully they know who they are because I don't do mushy crap as they know. But if they do know, they know I'm there when I'm needed and more than willing to sod off when not. Yorkshire brass makes me frank and I’d hope fair. There are 2...mayb 3 who sit above the rest, in special place for the things they've done and things they've been through with me. I make no denial of that. But everyone is important to me. I wouldn't change them for anything.... Ok... tell a lie, maybe 1 or 2 when they do my box in, but that’s only like for a week maybe less. I've spent too many years and got too many scars and burned too many photos and bridges because of fake people and users to not be honest to a fault. It’s who I am. Potential: the Counterfeit gig in Manchester, 2258 and yes even Tiktok have given me the opportunity to make some interesting acquaintances this year, and some I hope will become friends in the real in the future, but for now I will say - "I am defensive, stand off ish, sometimes bull headed and of course opinionated, but I am by no means blind. Or blinkered despite what may be said of me. I am there when needed, if I can be of use, just poke me."   Ave Atqua Vale This section has its own post these days. Sadly. Pictures Will try and make one of my “a year in ten pics.” Posts later. Final words While I am not fond of this time of year, Enjoy your celebrations whatever for they may take, I will be watching The Magicians / Call the Midwife and plotting 202? Cosplays. I will be here when (fk knows why) I'm needed. Otherwise-  Compliments of the season, now go get a beer, i'm sure you need it after reading this crap.

in the words of The one and only Jason Carter  “Hindsight is 2020��

#2020

[h50europe]

You know the feeling where there is this mental itch and you can’t help but have to scratch it? Once more, we are speaking up and share our thoughts on the latest developments concerning the departures of DDK and Grace Park. Don’t worry this is not going to be the never-ending story. For us, it means coming to a closure with it. 

Remember last year when a great guy left our beloved show? Masi Oka took us all by surprise when he opened up about his departure from the show. “I just thought the character went through a major journey,” he told EW. “Character-wise, I felt like Max had done too much of everything he can do.” Masi had nothing more to add to it, and the plot had come full circle. With teary eyes, we saw him depart in episode 7.13. It was a proper wake for a guy so humble and endearing. His character, coroner Max Bergman, often made us smile with his quirky sense of humor. It was a pleasure watching Masi Oka breathing life into this character in each episode. When he left, it happened quietly. He didn’t brag about his production company or the upcoming projects he already had in the pipeline. For me, Masi left like footprints in the sand being washed away by the sea. He was truly a class act. We still miss you, Masi. 

And then, there were the departures of Grace Park (Kono Kalakaua) and Daniel Dae Kim (Chin Ho Kelly). These departures caused an outcry in an already troubled fandom and shocked most of us to the core. According to VARIETY, CBS offered “large and significant salary increases” to keep Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park in the cast of Hawaii Five-0 after Kim had said via Facebook that he was unable to come to a deal with CBS to return to the long-running series. 

BUMMER! 

This was not the icing on the cake. It came later when – all of a sudden – the race card was thrown into this game. We stood there gaping because we weren't aware of all the fly-by-night fans that suddenly jumped on this bandwagon and blew this matter way out of proportion. 

As for the past few months, DDK has grabbed a lot of attention for being the role model to fight for equality of Asian-Americans in Hollywood. He got awards and prizes for it. In the meantime, Kim was also revving up his activity as a producer. His 3AD banner (production company) landed a new medical drama series on ABC for the coming season, The Good Doctor,  starring Freddie Highmore. 

Congrats! DDK is a helluva business man. I could adore him for the promotion stunt he pulled with this kind of action. Never before in his entire career has this guy gotten this much attention. If that wasn't well-calculated, why else hadn't he spoken up earlier about this matter? Over the past seven years, we've never heard him talking about feeling discriminated against or being underpaid. 

I feel so sorry for the man that he bottled up his frustration and swallowed his pride to work on a show that has shown more diversity than any other I know. He must have been struggling to go to work and see his "white co-stars" working their asses off for this show on a daily basis. 

Some people are predictable; some still surprise me. He's one of the latter. While he praises the cast and crew in his statement on FB, his fans are (suddenly) bashing the remaining cast to the utmost. 

And that is the reason, I said earlier, that I could adore him. The whole scenario as it is being presented to us looks orchestrated in a way. After one of the most successful seasons of the show, he and Grace Park are throwing in the towel. We don't know anything about Grace's motivation, so we are not starting to throw around rumors. 

IMHO, DDK killed it and poured gasoline onto the already spreading wildfire with the last paragraph of his FB statement. 

"I’ll end by saying that though transitions can be difficult, I encourage us all to look beyond the disappointment of this moment to the bigger picture. The path to equality is rarely easy (this must've felt like a blow to the gut for the remaining cast and crew). But I hope you can be excited for the future. I am. 5-0 continues on after one of its strongest seasons (like we didn't know that already. To me, this sounds more pathetic and like a mockery)." 

Then, he slipped back into the part of the shrewd business man he is by promoting himself: 

"I’ve got new acting projects on the horizon, and as a producer, my company, 3AD, has its first show, THE GOOD DOCTOR, set to air this fall on ABC. I hope you’ll tune in. There’s a lot to look forward to, and I’ll be sure to share it with you." 

We wish him (and also Grace) the best of luck for the future. We are sorry he had to endure all the discrimination over the past seven years and never LOST a word about it. 

We apologize for throwing up in our mouths – a little - when we were reading all the hatred messages produced by a bunch of spineless keyboard warriors who feel nothing but safe behind their screens as well as the "anonymity of the www." These days, it's easy to spread hatred and bully people you don't even know. Who are you to judge someone by his appearance or behavior? You are no better than the people you judge. Ever heard of reverse discrimination? What comes around goes around. 

We also apologize that you had to deal with the entire verbal diarrhea. If you came that far, thank you for taking your time to read. However, please spare us your unqualified hatred messages. We know them by heart. They are getting old. 

To everyone who feels compelled to stop watching the show: Goodbye! No need to tell this to your handful of followers; you won't be missed, and they probably won't even know what you're talking about because they don't give a damn about your feelings, anyway. 

To those of us who survived this circus and still stand with the show and the remaining cast: CONGRATS. Well done, ladies and gentleman. You'll earn another action-packed season and some changes in the cast that will open up new possibilities and interesting plots. Looking more than forward to it!

Read EP’s Peter Lenkov’s statement HERE 

And last but not least

Yours sincerely (now go on and hate me so I can block you ... snickers)

#H50 #Daniel Dae Kim #Grace Park #Masi Oka #Danny Williams #Steve McGarrett #alex o'loughlin #Scott Caan #Grace and Daniel exit

[mechagalaxy]

Sten Hugo Hiller - 627184: Mecha Combat #965 - September 3346 Cruiserweight Chrono

(By Sten Hugo Hiller - 627184) Mountain Climbing Mecha Combat #965

Brought to you by ANN

Highlighting the September 3346 Cruiserweight Chrono

Scant moments after the Point mech event had ended, the gaming authorities anounced another event, a long Cruiserweight Chrono as it happens. Cruiserweight is a kind of catch-all, well at least catch-some, description for events where the highest tonnage allowed is around 70 ton. This time the limit was on the lower side, no Mechs heavier than 65 tons allowed.

I must say, heartbreaking as it is, that this points to the fact that the gaming authorities must be in collusion with Toshiko, or at the very least hacked by her.

Why else would those who want some prizes on the tops be hobbled in such a way when the hordes of Toshiko is flooding the borders. They could have held a standard, sudden death, Cruiserweight event. Or a King Chrono that still would have let us bring our best against Toshiko without compromising the mountain defence. Heck, even a Cruiser Chrono that allowed us to use 70 tonners would have been a force magnifier.

But the world is the way it is.

As for me, after some disapointing results on the latest climbs, combined to some, lets say finanacial irregularities, and a less than stellar performance in the war I was sorely in need to prove my worth as a Star Leaguer.

How to combine pulling my weight against Toshiko`s marionettes and simultaniously doing a good figure on the tops was a real challenge however.

You see, I had been assigned to struggle on K3 in the event. The licence spread for that top in this event was 170-210, and my lowly 173 rated licence definetively put me in the lower end. Not that I was the lowest ranked. Three of the last four winners on K4 showed up early enough to be contenders as well: Jason Pedracini of the Northwind Dragons, Allan Brainstorm from Myth and Legends Blood Wolves and David McCallum from the Heroes.

As most of the regular attendees was dutifully hard at work battling Toshiko, and as such had their unlimited formations deployed, I managed to claim the top early. But not without a struggle, and the main competition was none other than McCallum. Most of you have probably read his insightful, well-written articles on various topics and know him for an gifted writer and analyst. Those who have faced him on the field of battle, especially in the Cruiserweight range, know him as an extremely capable Commander, having plenty of elite Mechs and punching well above his weight.

Despite me having a licence advantage of 29, and as such room for a trio more Mechs than him in my formation, he still outmassed me by 225 tons. And time after time he blew my crew off the top, and each time it took more effort and attacks to reclaim it.

But in all Chronos it comes a point where the advantage of the higher scorer becomes to great for the challenger to overcome. McCallum recogniced it and halted his attacks, and the last dozens of scorerounds he left me alone. My friends who had shielded me from his relentless attacks left, but at that time none could outscore me anymore.

I spent some time capturing the action on the other tops, and managed to get enough footage to tell you the highest scorers this time was:

Div 1 325+ (18 Commanders): Don Davis, Death`s Collector`s (+15740) 2: Fabio Favaro 3: Shawn Wretham 4: Bernard Johnson 5: Ben Rail 6: Claude Poirier 7: Sherriff Leary Wretham 8: Terry Cole 9: Jeff Haas 10: Daniel Scott Div 2 -324 (20 Commanders): Joe Kump, B.o.A.D. (+39180) Div 3 -210 (13 Commanders): Sten Hugo Hiller, Star League (+15810) Div 4 -170 (18 Commanders): Bob Goetz, Death`s Brethren (+8910) Div 5 -138 (29 Commanders): Jelloshots Suckeddoqn, Northwind Dragons (+8280) Div 6 -98 (23 Commanders): Siegfried Gust, Black Star Bandits (+14180) Div 7 -73 (20 Commanders): Markus Eisenhand, Black Star Bandits (+23850) Div 8 -56 (23 Commanders): Stug Hill, Behemoth (+13350) Div 9 -36 (14 Commanders): Jeffery Dinkel, *R.V.* (+14580) Div 10 -23 (16 Commanders): Dave Hankin, MurderMechs (+20870) Div 11 -14 (16 Commanders): BuggerAll, Pathetic Loser Clan (+16150)

Total Contestants: 197 Total medals claimed: 162 (of 165 possible)

Compared to the post-war Point Mech event 78 fewer Commanders decided to sign up. Could it be they were busy fighting off Toshiko`s hordes and needed bigger Mechs to stand in the lines? Despite quite good prizes, two Bronzes from K3 and one from K9 ended unclaimed and were returned for resmelting this time.

Highest score in this event was on K10 where Dave Hankin of the MurderMechs kept the top for all 115 score rounds and collected 143 750 points. Biggest margin to the runner-up was on K2 where Joe Kump from the Brotherhood of Arcane Dragons had a buffer of 39 180. Lowest score that gave a medal this time was 10 400 for a Bronze on K11.

Eight Gold winners outscored their closest opponents by at least 14 000, and none won by less than 8000 this time. Sounds like most winners was pretty unapproachable, but how hard was the struggle for the lesser prizes? To find out we take a look at the differences between the medal tiers in this event:

...Silver to Bronze...Bronze to nothing Div 1 ....12640......…..5760 Div 2 ....21260......…….380 Div 3 ......4720......…….N/A Div 4 ......2460......…..3420 Div 5 ......2990......…..2700 Div 6 ......9970......…..7720 Div 7 ....19830......…..4880 Div 8 ......7020......…..3220 Div 9 ....12830......…….N/A Div 10 ..11940......…..5320 Div 11 ..13880......…..9860

Pretty solid margins all over, except for the last Bronze on K2 that was decided by only 380. Such a small margin can easily be attributed to an early signup and early points.

The only clan to claim a double triumph this time was the Black Star Bandits who brought home the top prizes from both K6 and K7. No unaligned Commanders managed to claim a Gold, neither did any of the Point Mech winners follow up their success.

Upcoming event: Hoplites

This is again a split event. On K11 it is 25 ton max, but on all other tops it is in addition an event to promote the Hoplite. Commanders are allowed to bring up to two non-Hoplites as well, might I suggest Novum as an excellent model?

Event ends April 29 between 2200 and 2230 New York Time