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malinthebodyguard · 18 days

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Young Royals is anti-monarchist propaganda (always has been)

I think it’s fair to say that most of the fandom was quite happy with the finale. However, I’ve seen a handful of posts by people who were unhappy, specifically those who were unhappy with Wille giving up his place in the line of succession. These criticisms range in everything from dismissing Wille’s choice (Wilhelm has made a harsh decision without thinking of the consequences, this won’t actually make the media circus around him go away), to those disappointed in how the monarchy in general was represented (Wille could have modernized the institution, no one in the show attempted to consider how the monarchy could be good, actually). I don’t want to invalidate anyone’s feelings about the finale. If you didn't like it, that’s more than ok and I don’t want to argue with anyone about their taste.

But when it comes to criticism about Wilhelm giving up the throne, I do find myself frustrated at what I see as a fundamental misunderstanding of what this show was trying to communicate. Young Royals, plain and simple, is a story that denounces the incompatibility of antiquated and hierarchical institutions (Hillerska, the monarchy) with equality and justice.

If you’ve had the displeasure of being my fandom friend you’ll know that I’ve spent the last 3 years yelling about how this show is about abolishing the monarchy. I even wrote a lengthy fanfic with the sole excuse of having Wilhelm arrive at this conclusion. Still, I knew that whatever statement the show wanted to arrive at, we’d only really be getting to it at the end of the show.

Seasons one and two were setting up all the characters on the chessboard for the end: Wilhelm is the Crown Prince, although he does not want to be. He and Simon are in love, but Wilhelm’s role drives a wedge between them. Erik’s legacy and August's spot next in line are keeping Wilhelm in his place.

From episode one, I think the show was telling us about the many things that are wrong with the monarchy, but I don’t think it’s until season three that these discussions become more explicit. Is this why some people were disappointed by the ending? Maybe so. Still, I wanted to look at how season three in particular answers some of the questions or issues people are bringing up regarding both the monarchy and the Wilhelm’s choice.

What do you like about the monarchy?

Season 3 Episode 4 is the first time we hear an explicit discussion about why the monarchy could potentially be a good institution. I’ve seen some people complain that the show didn’t give this idea enough thought.

I completely disagree with this take: the short conversation Wille and Simon have in this episode is succinct, but still effective at presenting both arguments in this debate. A longer and more drawn out conversation would have been a bit unrealistic and probably boring to watch. These are not academics having a debate, but two teenagers who are talking about what for them is emotionally charged.

There’s also no need for a longer, more detailed discussion. Wilhelm does provide a very good answer to the question: The monarchy is there to unite the people. To be a neutral party in situations when the government cannot or will not interfere.

A quick civics lesson: In parliamentary democracies, the monarch serves as the Head of State.

This role is predominantly representative, although in many places the government is formed in the name of the monarch. This could, theoretically, grant them some political power-- since they could technically reject the winning party from forming a government. However, in most parliamentary monarchies, the King or Queen simply has to accept whatever decision is made based on election results.

However, the value of the Head of State is precisely in its apolitical nature. Regardless of who’s in power, the head of state is a neutral ambassador of the nation, both in and outside of their country. Their job is diplomatic and representative, and one that is thoroughly divorced from politics. This is what Wilhelm meant when he said that the monarchy was there to ‘unite the people’. Whenever I’ve spoken to pro-monarchy folks about their beliefs, they cite this as the reason why they like it.

It’s easy to see why Wilhlem would latch on this as his main argument to defend the institution. I don’t think there is anything inherently bad about having a separate head of state that represents the country. I don’t think the major grip with this issue is the having a head of state, but the fact that the head of state is a hereditary position. Simon says this himself twice in this episode: the issue is not that the head of state exists, but that the head of state is not an elected position. Furthemore, the head of state is a role that is imposed on a person not by their talent as a public speaker or negotiator, but by a simple accident of birth.

The job’s legitimacy or importance should not be above any individual’s right to autonomy and self-determination. Furthermore, considering that taxpayers are the ones who finance this position, shouldn’t they be able to elect who it is?

Let’s imagine a scenario where a friend tells you they’ve gone into a career because everyone in their family works in that industry, and they simply had no choice in the matter. It wouldn’t even matter if they were good or bad, they had a job in this career guaranteed from birth.

Would you not be concerned that maybe your friend is unhappy for a rather unnecessary reason? Would you not think that perhaps someone who actually wanted the job would be better suited for it? Would you think it right for a company to hire someone simply because of their family history? Would you consider any of this fair? And what is so special about monarchy that makes us have a different answer for it than we would if the question was about law or medicine?

You’ll always be famous.

Another common criticism I’ve seen is that Wilhelm will inevitably regret his decision, especially once he realizes that public scrutiny will not be going away. This is true, Wilhelm will likely always be a figure of public interest. But to me, this has always been a negative consequence of the monarchy, and I have a hard time seeing this is a valid reason why he should stay in it.

From the second we meet him, we know Wilhelm is uncomfortable with both the public attention and the scrutiny placed on him. However, this goes a bit further than that. I’d argue than more than the scrutiny itself, Wilhelm is weighed down by having to keep a public image. Because, remember folks, Wilhelm is not merely an awkward teenage boy with acne and a crush. No, no, Wilhelm is the State. Wilhelm is going to be a publicly-funded representative of the nation . This means, of course, that there’s a narrative, as he mentions himsef, that needs to be put forward. One that’s generic, serious, and unproblematic:

From the get go, Wilhelm is uncomfortable with the inauthentic and performative aspect of his role.This is a constant we see with Wilhelm in seasons one and two: every ‘performance’ he has to do fills him with nausea, anxiety, or some sort of discomfort.

In season three, Wilhelm begins acquiescing to this performance. Uncomfortable as he may be, for most of season 3 he’s accepted that this is his role. However, the attention this season shifts from Wilhelm to Simon, who’s now the one facing public scrutiny. The difference is that, unlike Wille, there’s no role for Simon to play. Nothing about who he is or what he believes is compatible with the public image the monarchy is putting forward. The only thing he can do in this situation is disappear, and Wilhelm is tasked with having to ask that of him.

I know a lot of people were exasperated at Simon’s very bad and clumsy social media presence. I’m not gonna argue that my boy wasn’t being a bit cringey, because he absolutely was. But I think the larger commentary here has more to do with the expectation that these two teenagers have to censor and edit themselves to comply with a particular PR image.

Ultimately, the criticism that Wilhelm will always be famous leads us straight back to the institution. Why does an underage boy have the same PR expectations as a politician? Why is a teenager dating his classmate + being cringe online justification for doxxing him? Unfortunately, no abdication is really going to undo any of this, and things are certainly going to be crazy once Wilhelm announces he’s stepping down .

However, this time around both he and Simon will at least have the agency to decide what they want to do with their public image, including the decision to disappear from the public completely if that’s what they want.

Queer representation

This a sentiment that has been in the fandom for some time now. This was the main argument why some people wanted Wille to stay in the monarchy. Sure, the institution has always been about bloodlines and tradition. But wouldn’t it be so nice to have Wilhelm as a symbol for the queer community? I’ve always found this idea a bit shallow. I’m not sure how much of a symbol of a queer and progressive country Wilhelm could be, when the whole idea is predicated on absolutely no one having a choice in the matter. Is it really impressive to accept the queerness of the guy you already had no choice in accepting?

There’s three scenes in season 3 where the potential Wilhelm -and by extension Simon- could have for the queer community come up. Farima brings it up in the first episode, but the framing here is reversed. Wilhelm isn’t serving the LGBTQ community by being a queer Prince, but the monarchy is using Wilhelm (and his queerness) to appear progressive.

The show, however, does humor this idea with the May 1st photo. We see what Simon and Wilhelm could potentially do for the community by simply existing as who they are: they’re inspirational. It gives Simon, briefly, hope that maybe something good could come out of this.

But this moment is quite literally framed by politics. It doesn't matter that Simon is not participating in that manifestation, anything that is slightly connected with politics is a challenge to neutrality of the monarchy. This same idea is stated more explicitly int the next episode, when Wilhelm is reviewing the options for his charity.

Ultimately, any action significant enough to be truly impactful, would be bordering the limits of what could be considered political. He's got to stick it out with these quite frankly boring and limited themes, all for the sake of staying on the very narrow lane of things that are not political.

The weight of the crown.

Stories about Kings and Queens usually carry the same fundamental tension of duty vs self.

In order to rule, our protagonist has to sacrifice themselves, usually for the sake of their country and people. The Crown is an excellent example of this type of story. Sacrifice in that series is framed as something noble and selfless.

Young Royals started out with this same fundamental tension, but the main difference is that Young Royals has framed this debate as a question:

Why should Wilhelm give himself up, his happiness, the love of his life, and his mental well-being? What’s so important and valuable about this institution that requires this sacrifice?

Wilhelm’s journey is about accepting and voicing his answer. He doesn’t want to be Crown Prince, he doesn’t want to be King.

But by virtue of taking part of this journey with him, we’re able to examine this question from a different perspective: Is this institution valuable enough to justify all of this? I think the show is inviting all of us to evaluate this situation and arrive at the conclusion that it isn’t.

Even someone like August, who wanted this, is weighed down by the realization of just how much the crown weighs. Of course, a big part of the fandom probably doesn’t live in countries with parliamentary monarchies. Still, considering the worldwide popularity of the British Royals, for example, I still think it’s a worthwhile exercise to question the validity of these institutions. Are they really worth sustaining? And if they’re not, why should we continue to drag them on into the present, citing tradition?

#young royals #prince wilhelm #Wilhelm #wilhelm yr #simon eriksson #Wilmon #Politics in Young Royals #august horn #yr meta #my and

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 4)

pariring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 4 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 3 here)

you and lando have gotten so used to each other in such a short amount of time that a few days apart feels unnatural. there are still lines you're scared to cross, but lando will do anything to prove he's not going anywhere

word count: 6.2k tags/warnings: social media au aspects, alcohol consumption

You jumped when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders as you stood outside the hotel lobby doors. Usually it was Carlos finding any reason to scare you, but when you didn’t hear his laughter following your panicked inhale, you turned around and came face to face with Lando.

“Morning,” he smiled, eyeing the suitcase at your feet. “What time’s your flight?”

You were a little surprised he didn’t call you out for leaving without saying goodbye, but you both knew you didn’t owe him that. Whatever happened last night, the kiss you shared, it wasn’t supposed to turn into anything bigger.

You glanced at your phone, “In a few hours, I’m just waiting for the uber.”

“You’re not flying with Charles?”

The question confused you, but then you remembered that Lando was probably expecting you to attend all of the races. You had only missed a few since the start of the season and Lando had gotten used to your presence over the weekends.

“I’m going to London,” you told him. “I’m not going to the next race.”

Lando’s smile dropped, his eyes widened and was in resemblance to a puppy as we waited for you to make a joke and tell him you were only kidding.

But you were being serious and when neither of you said anything for a few seconds, it sunk in for Lando that he wouldn’t see you at all this week.

“Why?” He swallowed. “I mean, at the risk of sounding needy, can I ask why?”

Lando thought he had done something.

Seeing you standing with your luggage, Lando drew his own conclusion that he had done something wrong last night. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you, maybe he shouldn’t have asked about why you didn’t date drivers, maybe he shouldn’t have put you in the position you now found yourself in.

You needed to ease his nerves, and the second you reached for his face, lightly brushing your thumb over his cheek, Lando started to think that maybe he was overreacting.

“My friend is getting married,” you answered. “Her hen party is this weekend. The wedding takes place next. And then I’m probably just going to stay in London until Silverstone because it’s the weekend after anyway.”

Lando nodded and you could see him working through the dates in his mind, wondering when he’d get to see you next. It would be almost three weeks.

But it wasn’t like he had a say in the matter. He would miss you, just like you would find yourself missing him, but you didn’t have any sort of commitment to him or the races. Lando almost felt as though he didn’t have the right to tell you that he wanted you to be there.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, instead of saying what he really wanted to say. “In London?”

“Oh I don’t know yet,” your phone chimed, letting you know the uber was nearby. “I’ll call one of my friends when I land or I’ll get an airbnb. I’ll figure it out.”

Lando was taken aback by how unprepared you were, but if you were being honest, most of your travel plans were usually booked by someone else. Charles’ assistant made sure you had a room booked and transportation sorted out when you attended the races. If you ever travelled for modelling jobs, the agency would plan ahead. This was one of the few times when you were in charge of your own trip.

And clearly, that stressed Lando out a bit.

“You’re just going to land in Heathrow and hope that someone has a spare room for you?” Lando repeated back what you had told him, but making it sound more preposterous than it actually was.

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Someone’s bound to. Or I’ll get an airbnb.”

“A last minute rental in the heart of London?” Again, he was wording it in a way that was making you second guess your decision. “That’s available for the next three weeks?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Lando rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. He was in very visible distress and when his sigh was loud enough for people nearby to turn and look at what was going on, you pushed on his shoulder.

“Lando, I’ll be fine,” you assured him with a laugh.

But he only shook his head and pulled out his phone, “I know somewhere you can stay. I’ll send you the address and key code and everything.”

“In London?”

“Redcliffe Square,” he clarified. You didn’t spend a lot of time in London, but you were familiar with that borough, nestled between Kensington and Chelsea, two of the most expensive areas in the entire city.

“Who’s place is it?” You asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t, don’t worry.”

“But whose place is it?” You asked again. Your phone vibrated in your hands and you glanced at the screen to see that Lando had sent you all of the information you needed to access the flat.

“A friend’s,” he glanced over your shoulder when a black SUV pulled up along the curb. “He isn’t even in London. You can use the place for the next few weeks, okay?”

You weren’t fully sold on the idea, but with your uber arriving, there wasn’t much time to argue. The look you gave Lando told him you’d think about it and that’s all he could ask for. He took the luggage from you and wheeled it to the trunk of the car.

Lando, for whatever reason, was determined to help you in any way he could. And you weren’t someone who ever needed help, but Lando did little things here and there that you hadn’t stopped to think about until now.

Like how he opened the door for you whenever he could. Taking your suitcase from you so you didn’t have to lift it. Sorting out your temporary living situation so you didn’t have to worry about it. Lando liked being able to take care of you, as much as he was allowed given the fact that you two weren’t actually together.

He shut the trunk again and returned to you, shoulders slummed as he took in a heavy breath. He looked at you as if he was trying to remember every detail of your face, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to just wait outside the Ferrari motorhome to see you or even show up outside your flat.

Lando would be heading straight to Austria, in fact he had to finish packing because he too needed to go to the airport soon.

“How am I supposed to move up your driver ranking if you’re not even watching the race?” He asked.

“That’s on you to figure out.”

“Who’s next on your list?”

“Danny Ric.”

Lando’s eye roll could not have been bigger. It didn’t help that you were also wearing an oversized shirt from Daniels’ 2022 Ric Rodeo collection, finding it to be comfortable enough for an overseas flight.

“Danny’s not even driving!” Lando exclaimed. “And the next race is at the Red Bull Ring. He’s going to be there!”

As a Daniel Ricciardo fan, you were looking forward to all of the content that would be coming up in preparation for the race. You were also looking forward to seeing what Lando had in mind to pass the reserve driver. With surpassing in points out of the question, Lando had to get creative.

“You’re smart, you’ll think of something.”

“You can’t just call me an oyster and then call me smart, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Fine, I’ll stick with oyster.”

“You little-” he clenched his teeth, cutting his words off. You could see him actively trying to mask his smile as his lips pressed together tightly.

“I have a flight to catch,” you said, taking a moment to reach for his hand. You gave his fingers a squeeze, it was supposed to be a friendly gesture but one that held more meaning than just saying goodbye.

And then Lando didn’t allow you to let go. The second he felt you pulling away, his grip tightened and he pulled you closer. Your heart started to race when his other hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t use my last 12 seconds right now?” He whispered.

You had an answer. You had about three answers, three good reasons why he shouldn’t kiss you outside the doors of the hotel. For starters, there were people that you both knew in the lobby right now and if they just looked outside they would be left with questions neither of you could answer.

Neither of you could trust employees, within Formula 1 or at the hotel, to not say anything and you didn’t need this getting back to your brothers.

But most importantly, you didn’t want to share these moments with the world.

If Lando kissed you again, you wanted to be able to get lost in it. You didn’t want to worry about prying eyes or being interrupted or the media finding out and spinning a story into something that it’s not.

“Save them,” you said quietly, feeling your heart sink deeper into your chest when he nodded and dropped his arm back to his side. He let go of your hand and reached for the door to the backseat to pull it open for you.

Lando leaned against the frame of the door, watching as you made sure you had everything that you needed for a full day of airline travel. You opened the belt bag around your waist to confirm your passport, charger and wallet was safely in there. He chuckled when it took you an extra second to find your airpods, but even if you were panicked about missing something, the way Lando looked at you was enough to ease your nerves, momentarily.

“No daisies?” He asked, referring to the bouquet he had gotten for you last night.

“I can’t bring flowers on a plane, Lando.”

He wasn’t content with that response, “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you retorted. “I guess you’ll just have to get me some more when I see you in SIlverstone.”

“Shouldn’t you be bringing me flowers? I’m the one who got a podium.”

Lando was stalling now, he didn’t want to watch you drive off. He didn’t want to go these next few weeks knowing you weren’t anywhere nearby. You would be in two completely different countries.

“Do it again and I’ll think about it,” you flashed him a smile, the last one he’d see from you in a while, before he reluctantly shut the car door.

You fought the urge to look out the back window and wave at him, just like he fought the urge to send you a text saying ‘have a safe flight’. Those little meaningful actions weren’t something either of you did and you knew that the second one of you crossed that line, it would be so much harder to return to where you were before.

——————

Two flights, three naps and eight hours of podcasts later, you landed in London. You were exhausted, starving and making a mental note to call Lando and thank him for hooking you up with a place to stay because the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now was to find somewhere to sleep.

You texted Thea, your friend who was getting married and told her you landed. She responded almost immediately asking if you wanted to grab drinks but you were ready to call it a night and assured her you’d call her tomorrow.

You were half asleep in the uber, not even caring to look out the window to make sure you were headed in the right direction. You confirmed the address that Lando sent you and closed your eyes until the driver quietly woke you up when he stopped in front of the white period building.

The flat was stunning, you could tell that much when you stepped outside. Even with the night sky casting over it, this home was elegant and not something you could ever afford.

Rolling your suitcase up to the front steps, you pulled your phone out to double check the numbers that Lando had sent you. You typed in a six-digit code and waited only a second for the mechanism to unlock. You pushed the door open and jumped when an alarm started going off.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and find the next text that shared the code to disarm the system, but when the house finally quieted down and you were certain there were no other codes you needed to enter, you let yourself relax.

The flat had high ceilings with period features throughout, including a beautiful marble fireplace in the living room, large windows that led out to a stunning garden view and a huge semi-open kitchen floor plan that you couldn’t wait to use when you weren’t tired.

You left the suitcase at the end of the hallway and flipped a light switch on. It wasn’t that you were trying to pry, but you scanned the general area for any photos or memorabilia that would hint at whose place this was.

Unfortunately for you, nothing stood out.

Except for the vase of daisies in the middle of the dining room table.

You walked over to the table, thinking that they were fake and for decor only, but the second you reached for one of the stems, you knew instantly they were real, and freshly cut.

Which meant someone had been here before you showed up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you headed towards the fridge, thinking that if someone was staying here, there would be groceries put away. You yanked the door open and found your assumptions to be correct. There was food in there.

And by the looks of a lot of the expiry dates, this food was purchased today.

You needed answers and you needed to know if Lando was incorrect about the homeowner being away.

You wiped your eyes as you scrolled to find Lando’s contact name in your phone. There was a really good chance you were delusional and there was in fact no food in the fridge and you were hallucinating the flowers because of how exhausted you were, but it all seemed real.

Lando answered on the first ring.

“Hey,” his voice chimed through the receiver, you could practically hear his smile. “How was your flight?”

“Yeah, good,” but when your 'good' 'was cut off by a very audible yawn, you heard Lando chuckle into the phone.

“Tired?”

“Very,” you laughed as well, leaning against the counter as you eyed the flowers again. “Hey, are you sure there’s no one staying here?”

“At the flat?” You heard a bit of shuffling on his end, like he was moving to a different location to talk to you. “No, no ones there. Just you.”

“So why am I staring at a vase of freshly picked daisies and why is the fridge stocked?”

He laughed again, what you would have given to actually be with him and hear it. You weren’t even sure what country he was currently in, or if he was somewhere in an airport waiting for a layover, but you knew you would have much rather preferred he was with you in London.

Not because you had feelings for him or whatever, it was just easier to talk face to face than over the phone.

“Well,” Lando took a breath. “Daisies are your favourite flower and you need to food to survive so-”

“You did this?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just-” you opened the fridge again. “When did you-” you picked up a head of lettuce and then opened up the drawer filled with an assortment of meat and cheese. “How did you-”

“I asked a friend to pick up some things,” Lando finally cleared things up. “Ria lives in the area, she went grocery shopping and picked up the flowers. I just didn’t want you to walk into an empty flat.”

“You’re so sweet,” you tucked the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you walked back over to the flowers. Another yawn passed through your lips and Lando laughed yet again, but you didn’t want your fatigue to be the reason why you had to hang up. “I’m going to get used to seeing the flowers, you know?”

“I know,” Lando agreed. “I’ll just have to keep buying them for you.”

“Or just plant your own,” you suggested. “Have a nice shrub of them in your yard. I’m sure they can grow in Monaco.”

“I’ll think about that- oh, hang on a second, yeah?”

Before you could answer, Lando muted himself on his end. You wouldn’t have blamed him if when he came back he abruptly needed to go, he had a long travel day as well.

While you waited for his return, you grabbed your suitcase and wheeled it down the hall, on the search for a bedroom. The first door on the right was a bathroom, the one across from it was an office and it wasn’t until you reached the last door on the left did you find the master bedroom.

Flipping on the light, an abstract painting of a vintage car hanging above the bed took you by surprise. It was a bright blue painting and it stood out, not in a good way, amongst a lot of the neutral decor.

But again, there were no personal mementos.

You checked out the ensuite, making sure the hot water actually worked, before heading to the closet. The racks were lined with a variety of jackets and jumpers, you assumed belonging to a guy given the size and styles.

You really shouldn’t have been snooping, this wasn’t your flat, you were simply a guest, but the light blue hoodie called to you and you tugged on the sleeve to check out the design on the front.

“Sorry about that, had another call,” Lando’s voice made you flinch, not expecting him to come back so soon.

But your attention wasn’t on the phone call. It was on the jumper with a white logo in the top right corner, a logo that held the initials LN.

You tugged down the collar to confirm that this was in fact one of Lando’s merch items and not just fan made. LN4 was printed on the dark tag.

You cleared your throat, “Lando.”

“Yes?”

“Who’s flat am I in right now?”

A bit of silence followed by a faint hum, “Why?”

“Answer the question.”

“A friend’s.”

“Whose friend?”

Another pause and then a very hesitant and uncertain, “Yours?”

You let go of the sleeve and walked back into the bedroom, “Do you live here? Is this your flat?”

His silence was enough of an answer. You scoffed and you knew that Lando could hear your eye roll through the phone.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to stay there if I told you it was my place,” you quickly explained, his voice raising with humour before you could think about arguing with him. “I just thought the offer would scare you off because, I mean- it’s a little weird.”

“It’s very weird,” you corrected, eyes darting all over the room. He lived here. “Lando I can’t sleep in your bed.”

“I haven’t had sex in it with anyone, if you’re wondering.”

“Well I wasn’t, but thank you for clearing that up.”

Lando laughed, “Come on, Y/N. It’s better than a hotel or an airbnb or crashing on someone’s couch.”

But you still weren’t sure how you felt now that you knew this was Lando’s place. He might not have lived here full time, you were fully aware of his home in Monaco, but this was his flat. He handed over the keys to one of his homes like it was nothing, like the thought of you staying anywhere else was absurd.

You had visited Milan dozens of times and Pierre never once suggested that you stay at his place. Carlos was the same, never thinking of offering up his home if he knew you were travelling to Madrid.

You were friends with both of those guys, Pierre was on thin ice, but regardless, you considered them to be the two drivers you knew the most, that you were the closest to.

And Lando texted you his address in seconds, not giving you any other option.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the palm of your hand curving over the luxurious duvet. If you closed your eyes and fell backwards on top of the mattress, you’d be out in seconds.

“Hey,” Lando’s tone grew quiet, knowing he had lost you for a moment as you got sucked into your own thoughts. “Have I dropped down the driver ranking again?”

“No, you idiot,” you rubbed the corner of your eye. “I’m just thinking about how this is definitely a bit weird, but also really sweet and if Charles knew where I was staying right now, he’d run you off the track next race.”

“I can handle Charles,” there was a false arrogance to him. Driver Charles was a lot different compared to Older Brother Charles. “Just enjoy these next few weeks, okay? I know it’ll be a little boring without me there to annoy you, but try, yeah?”

“I’m going to rack up your electricity bill,” you decided, a devious sort of smile playing on your lips. You glanced towards his closet, “I’m also going to burn all of your merch.”

Lando sighed loudly, “You know what, I’ll pick my battles. This isn’t one of them.”

“So you don’t care if I set all of your LN4 hoodies to flames?”

“Well you don’t wear them anywhere so you might as well.”

“You’ve never asked me to,” you pointed out, but then couldn’t remember if that was actually true or not. There might have been a time when he offered you a hoodie or a shirt and you probably rolled your eyes at the mere thought of putting it on because that would mean you couldn’t rep DR3.

“I shouldn’t have to ask,” Lando scoffed. “You wear Danny’s merch.”

“Well yeah I love him.”

Lando grumbled quietly into the receiver, something about Daniel not even driving, followed by a few more seconds of loud rustling. He started saying something else but his voice was muffled so you only assumed he had pulled the phone away from his face to talk to someone nearby.

This time when he came back, his tone shifted.

“Hey, so I-”

“Have to catch your flight?” You asked, trying not to let the disappointment seep through into your words.

“Yeah it appears so,” Lando sounded just about as annoyed as you felt.

You didn’t want to draw out this goodbye, “Good luck this weekend.”

“Thank you, I’ll, uh- I’ll talk to you later, I guess?” He sounded unsure. “I mean, I won’t call you because you’ll be asleep but yeah I’ll text you or you can text me if you want, but you don’t-”

“Lando,” you cut off his nonsensical rambling. He hummed and you could just picture his wide eyes and boyish features in your mind. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a safe flight."

ynleclerc

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ynleclerc thea's getting married and we're about to make it everyone's problem

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theaa_coleman i love you !!!

carlossainz55 when are you getting married

ynleclerc is this a proposal? carlossainz55 you wish

userrnorris i would give anything to see lando or carlos as her date to the wedding PLEASE

smooth_operator55 wait this explains why she wasn't at the race this weekend!!

paddockgf oh phew i thought it was bc charles banned her from hanging around w the drivers💀💀

You told Lando you’d talk to him later but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

You didn’t text him when you woke up, being bombarded with calls from your friends and he didn’t call you when he landed, exhausted himself from his travel days.

And then the week went on.

The Hen party for Thea was chaotic. You were drunk for nearly 48 hours and hungover for the next 24. You didn’t leave Lando’s flat for a few days, needing to recuperate and it wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon did you finally feel like yourself again.

You wanted to watch the races live, but your weekend was packed so you weren’t able to actually see what happened until days later when you curled up on the couch and turned on F1TV.

Just like you expected, a lot of Daniel Ricciardo content at the Red Bull Ring, but even his presence wasn’t enough to distract you from a certain McLaren driver.

Lando ended up qualifying eighth, not his best but also not his worst. If you had watched live there would have been a sort of obligation to text him saying ‘good job’ but you also weren’t sure if that was something you could do. It wasn’t as though you wanted to text Carlos and congratulate him on his P4 starting position.

The race, for better or for worse, was a pretty dull one. No major incidents, nothing that caused you any concern. Charles started from fifth and worked his way up to a third place podium. Carlos started fourth and stayed there. And somewhere during those 71 laps, Lando dropped back through the grid and finished eleventh, unable to claim any points for that weekend.

Again, if you had watched it live you might have even called him. You might have said he still had a good weekend and that it could have been worse, but you were watching it two, almost three, days later.

The worst part was you had been so disconnected from the outside world these last few days that you weren’t even aware of the driver standings until right now. You had stayed off Instagram except to share a few photos and aside from that, your phone died a lot throughout the chaos that was this weekend.

You didn’t see anything. You didn’t see Lando’s race results. You didn’t see his post-race interviews where he sounded defeated over the lack of pace from the McLaren. You didn’t see the tweets from fans saying that Lando was missing his good luck charm (you).

There was a lot you missed, but there was also a lot you were completely oblivious to.

You didn’t know that Lando thought about calling you after the race because he knew that hearing your voice would make his day a little better after that run. You weren’t aware that Lando paced back and forth in his hotel room, asking himself if you really were his good luck charm. And you didn’t know he changed his flights so he could leave Austria early and head to the next country the race was being hosted in.

Which just so happened to be England.

He told his team it was because he wanted to visit some family before the race weekend. There was a decent sized gap between the Austrian Grand Prix and Silverstone, so no one thought anything of it, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie, he would go see his family, but it just wasn’t the whole truth.

So he landed in London Wednesday night.

It had been over a week now since you two last talked and it wasn’t that you were ignoring him, you just didn’t know what to say.

Days had passed since the race and you just assumed it was too late to say anything about it. Would he have even wanted a pity ‘hey I still think you did pretty good’ sort of text? He knew you weren’t planning on watching the race live, so that kind of message held the risk of sounding insincere.

And Lando hadn’t reached out either, assuming you were enjoying your time with your friends, which you were. But you missed his voice, you missed his laugh, you missed talking to him.

But there would be no calls or texts exchanged for the rest of the week.

Again, you didn’t know what to say and then all of a sudden it was Saturday, Thea’s wedding and then you really weren’t on your phone. You were at the brides’ beck and call since dawn, you needed to be there to take the champagne away when she tried to pour another glass before noon.

If you had been on your phone, you would have noticed Lando posted a handful of photos on his story and on his photography account, showcasing that he was in London. After spending the last few days with friends and family in nearby towns, he arrived in the city.

And he wanted you to know it.

He didn’t want to come across as needy or annoying and come straight out tell you he was in London, so he teased the city on his social media, hoping that you’d see it and call or text him. It was an immature move, but Lando wasn’t sure where the two of you stood so it was all he could come up with.

But of course you had no idea what Lando’s whereabouts were. Your priority was the bride and then after the wedding, your priority was getting drunk with your friends at the reception.

Lando was the last thing on your mind.

Until he grew impatient that you hadn't reached out, so he was left with no choice but to leave a comment on your most recent instagram post.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 18,204 others

ynleclerc need my friends to stop getting married, im tired of crying in pretty dresses (so much love for you 2 tho)

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theaa_coleman i love you i love you thank you for holding my tissues all day

charles_leclerc congrats to the happy couple !!

arthur_leclerc always the bridesmaid never the bride?

yn/leclerc im 21 leave me alone

landonorris orange suits you

Orange suits you.

Was that him telling you that you looked good in orange or was he being sly and using orange as a euphemism and he was in fact saying that he suited you? Or maybe this was him hinting at wanting to see you in the McLaren garage or maybe Lando didn’t think before leaving that comment and it was unintentionally causing you to spin out.

It didn’t help that you were drunk and to you, the room seemed to quite literally be spinning. Was it actually? You could be easily convinced it was.

As you sat on the bench outside of the hall, your heeled foot tapped against the carpeted floor. God your feet were killing you. This dress had rough seams that made your skin feel like it was on fire. Your earrings kept getting stuck on your hair but none of that was bothering you as much as Lando’s comment was.

What the fuck did it mean?

You don’t talk for a week and a half and that’s the first thing he says?

You blinked a few times as you focused on his name on the app, clicking it to lead to his own profile and then clicking his photo to see what he had been up to within the last 24 hours.

It took you a second to piece together the photos you were looking at, but that fucker was in London.

He was in London and he didn’t tell you? You’re staying at his flat. What was going to happen? You’d go back there after the wedding ended and run into him just sitting on the couch?

Next thing you knew, you were calling him.

You lost count of how many rings you heard before he finally answered.

“Hey,” he sounded arrogant, like he was expecting your call. Or maybe you were just reading into it because you didn’t know what was going on and you had one too many shots with the bridal party and Lando said that orange suited you.

“Orange.”

He laughed, “Excuse me?”

You didn’t mean to say that out loud. Your intention was to call and ask if he was in London but for some reason you couldn’t get his comment out of your mind, so you rolled with it.

“You think orange suits me?”

He paused. Or maybe he didn’t. The seconds were blurring together and you didn’t have a good concept of time.

“You’re drunk.”

Did you sound drunk? You didn’t think you sounded drunk. You diverted the conversation.

“You’re in London.”

“Are we just stating the obvious?”

“Why did you-” you hiccuped, you definitely sounded a little drunk now. A breath passed your lips as you regained a coherent thought. “You think orange suits me?”

“I do,” there was no hesitancy on his part. “I think you look beautiful in anything, but orange is definitely your colour.”

That’s all it took. A few words, a simple compliment, his smile that could be heard through the phone, and your heart was sinking into your chest. You missed him, you missed his voice. A week and a half wasn’t even that long but it was also driving you insane.

“I didn’t-” you inhaled a breath as your words jumbled together.

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t watch the race live and you also wanted to apologise for not saying good job and you were still stuck on the fact that he was in London so the next sentence out your mouth wasn’t understandable in the slightest.

“I didn’t mean to say sorry, in the-” you dragged your hand over your face, trying to think of a word. “In the race, you were- you did last weekend.”

Lando’s laughter was music to your fucking ears. When something was really funny he always inhaled as he laughed and with it came a sort of squeal that was terribly contagious and you found yourself wanting to laugh along, even if you didn’t know what was funny.

Like right now, you didn’t know why he was laughing but you were laughing with him. Was it something you said? You couldn’t even remember what you said.

When you both finally caught your breath after a minute, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what was on the forefront of your mind.

“I think I miss you.”

“You think?” Lando repeated. “I know I miss you.”

He missed you.

“Where are you tonight?”

The question wasn’t properly worded, but Lando pieced together what you were asking. Him being able to understand drunk you was weirdly attractive. You didn’t want it to be a recurring thing, but you loved that he wasn’t asking you to repeat yourself or making you feel bad for not making any sense.

“I’m staying at a friend's place, I didn’t want to bother you at the flat.”

“What if I want you to bother me?”

Lando cleared his throat, “Then I’d get in my car right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Get in your car…” you sat up a bit straighter, glancing towards the room where the reception was taking place. You had spent all day with everyone in there and now there was only one person you wanted to see, “...and come pick me up.”

You could hear the sound of car keys being thrown and caught, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Send me your location.”

And you did, accidentally hanging up on him in the process. Lando sent a string of laughing emojis before telling you he’d be there in about fifteen minutes.

That was enough time for you to chug a few glasses of water and find the bridge and groom to say goodbye. Thea tried to pour another shot down your throat but if anymore alcohol entered your system, you’d start making some really questionable decisions.

She was content with a hug when you lied and said you would puke on her dress. You wished them well and told them to be safe on their honeymoon. Next you found a few other members of the wedding party and said bye to them before grabbing your clutch and making your way to the front doors of the venue.

Just in time for Lando to pull up in a sleek black McLaren.

You were so captivated by him just getting out of the car that you froze in place, your heels scraping against the cobblestone beneath you. He wasn’t in a Quadrant sweater, surprisingly, instead opting for a white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey sweats.

There was already something about a man in grey sweats that had you, and many people, forgetting how to breathe. But Lando in that attire was otherworldly. He looked so good but it was well past midnight so you didn’t how know it was possible for someone to look that good.

You weren’t even sure how you looked. There was a strong chance your eye makeup was smudged and your face was oily after having product seep into your pores all day. One of the straps of the dress slipped from your shoulder and you quickly adjusted it as Lando approached you, taking in your appearance like he was breathing in fresh air for the first time in months.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he smiled. He raised his eyebrows when your knee buckled slightly, an indicator that you were in fact drunk but you played it off like nothing happened. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded, looking very uncharacteristically childlike, “I want to go home.”

You didn’t mean for the word home to slip out. You knew Lando’s place wasn’t home, you were only staying there for a few weeks and then you’d be travelling again.

But even without him there, you felt so comfortable in that flat. You loved cozying up in the bed, you liked having the open kitchen to experiment with, you liked knowing that Lando wanted you there.

So no, it wasn’t home, but it was close enough for the time being and that wasn’t something you could often say, especially with your schedule consisting of trip after trip, hotel after hotel.

Lando reached for your hand. Hearing you refer to his flat as home, even in your drunken state, had his heart skipping a beat. He knew you didn’t mean it, he knew you just wanted to leave the party, but it meant more to him than you’d ever realise. This was something he would hold onto for as long as you’d allow him to.

“Okay Little Leclerc, let's get you home.”

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia if i missed someone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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sayuri-of-the-valley · 8 months

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On how Crowley and Aziraphale's dynamic shifted in s2:

Okay so I was inspired by this lovely post by @rebeccasteventaylor which I couldn't find the link to in order to reblog directly, but if anyone has a link to it pls I'd love to put it here:

Anyway, while I absolutely 100% agree with @rebeccasteventaylor 's meta, I have to point out that s2 shifted it a little. Especially for Aziraphale.

We don't see him looking away trying to hide his heart eyes anymore as he used to do in s1 (we all remember the "smitten" scene, only to cite ONE). Compare the little breath of lust from the Bastille (when he looks away twice) to the "don't hesitate to ask me if you have any questions about love" one.

In s2, he touches Crowley like crazy. He touches his chest, his hand, his back, asks him to dance, gives him a whole ass cotillion ball.

He was deliberately and explicitly pursuing Crowley this season. If s1 was all Crowley pursuing Aziraphale, s2 was all Aziraphale pursuing Crowley.

And Crowley seemed to either not notice or not acknowledge that Aziraphale was doing that (the way he said Aziraphale only has 3 reasons to call him still drives me crazy. Crowley ffs those were ALL the reasons there is to call someone. He's ALWAYS thinking of calling YOU).

I think Crowley was afraid. Probably for the same reason he never told Aziraphale he was homeless. Which is sad and kinda doesn't make sense at first bc this is all Crowley has ever wanted, right?

Until we remember the last time Crowley let himself love and be loved freely, he was cast away (yes, the Fall). He lost everything bc he wasn't worthy according to some crazy criteria. Apparently he doesn't even know what he DID exactly.

I wonder if Crowley thinks he's not worthy of Aziraphale. I wonder if that's why he refused to see their love for centuries until Nina threw it at his face (Nina LITERALLY doing the Lord's work). I wonder if he's afraid of loving and letting himself be loved and then losing it again. Afraid of daring to ASK and losing everything. Again.

And Crowley wasn't *happy* this season, even with their freedom. I wonder if Aziraphale was mistakenly arriving at the conclusion that he was not enough to make Crowley happy. That him alone would never make Crowley smile the way he did when creating nebulae.

These 4 years were breathing space between the two "wars", according to Crowley himself in s1. And I think Crowley doesn't deal well with their relationship in a calm environment. He only knows how to make grand gestures, and heroic rescues, and go fast and act on impulse because then he doesn't have to THINK. Once he needs to sit down and make a commitment (telling Aziraphale he's homeless for ex), he just STOPS, he can't.

Aziraphale was the opposite. The calmness without any danger was giving him all the space he needed to act on his feelings, while the sense of danger always made him enter denial mode (which ironically seemed to be Crowley's mode in s2).

Of course they still need to put a name on what they are and stop pretending, Nina was absolutely right (and Crowley did catch up on that faster in those last 15min), maybe Aziraphale was still lacking this bit even if he was pursuing Crowley, but we can't deny that until those last 15min the "us" was coming from Aziraphale.

It's sad to realise that unconsciously, without even noticing, Crowley was rejecting Aziraphale almost the whole season.

UNTIL suddenly there's a huge problem, a desperate situation and he wants to abandon everything, take Aziraphale and run away again! (his original plan wasn't even to run away, it was to go to the Ritz). And who can blame him after what happened when he Fell? The Fall was totally unexpected, nobody even knew that could HAPPEN.

Crowley doesn't think himself worthy of Aziraphale (he's UNFORGIVABLE!), and Aziraphale doesn't think he's enough to make Crowley TRULY unashamedly happy and carefree.

And they're BOTH immensely WRONG ofc, we can all see it. They're each other's WORLD.

But they just assume stuff and never ASK, never TALK (bc well, it was literally dangerous before, I get it, their communication issues don't come from nowhere). That's why they have different perspectives on how to fix their situation in the end.

And btw I have to add we can't ignore Crowley was opening himself more too, always taking off his glasses when he was at the Bookshop for example. Ironically he was just a bit slower than Aziraphale for once. All that ofc until those last 15min, when they both change back to their old behaviours (makes me want to bang my forehead onto a wall).

I do believe they'd get there if the Metatron hadn't intervened (interesting that he chose this *exact* moment), especially after that little push from Maggie and Nina (for Crowley) and ofc brielzebub (for Aziraphale) that was gonna make them BOTH confess their feelings.

Anyway, bottom line, fuck the Metatron.

This is also a thread on Twitter :D

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #my meta #renew good omens #shift in dynamics #aziraphale pursuing crowley #crowley's denial

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baldchristianborle · 9 months

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Defending Aziraphale cause I KNOW y’all are gonna come for him:

1. a lot of people say that him deciding to go back to heaven is a character regression and doesn’t make sense- but it does! aziraphale has 6000+ years of repressed trauma from doing what heaven tells him! and even if he does seem to be taking steps forward (shades of gray), he never fully takes that big leap away from heaven (very LIGHT shades of gray). you can’t just recover from it!

2. also, we never actually see him get over the demons bad angels good thing. crowley is the only exception to this rule, in his eyes. he still views the Fall as a bad thing, which is why he wants them to be angels together!

3. people are also saying that it’s crazy ineffable bureaucracy got together so fast without too much internal conflict, unlike the (now divorced) husbands. but it makes sense because GABRIEL AND BEELZEBUB RAN THE SYSTEM. AND CROWLEY WAS CLEARLY A HIGH RANKING ANGEL WHO FELL VERY EARLY ON, MAKING HIM VERY DISILLUSIONED WITH THE SYSTEM. aziraphale mever got that chance- he was a lower ranking angel that was beaten down by this system, and as such doesn’t see that it’s the system that’s corrupt, not just the angels within. he still believes that heaven is a GOOD place filled with BAD angels, because he has literally never had the chance to learn otherwise.

and this is why it narratively makes perfect sense for him to become the supreme archangel- he’ll finally be able to see that the idea of heaven is corrupt because he’ll be in charge of it!

4. aziracrow have also been shown to be a direct parallel to nina and maggie. in the last episode, nina says that they’re not ready for a relationship because she just left her incredibly toxic and abusive partner. aziraphale and nina are in very similar situations! he literally just left heaven, which was incredibly toxic and abusive, and might not be ready for a relationship with crowley yet! however, unlike nina, he doesn’t fully believe that his previous situation was toxic, so he goes back- because he hasn’t seen enough to understand!

5. he clearly wants to FIX the system, not just be a part of it, because he is intrinsically such a selfless being. he still hasn’t learned to put what he actually wants before what he thinks everybody needs yet, because, again, he doesn’t understand how heaven works!

in conclusion i love aziraphale and i haven’t slept because i’ve been thinking about the finale so lmk if this doesn’t make sense but i will not be changing my thoughts about aziraphale

ALSO KEEP REWATCHING GOOD OMENS WE NEED SEASON 3

#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #spoilers

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teambyler · 1 month

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Mike was saying "I love you" to Will

Most people see Mike's monologue and think of it as "proof" that he and El are an endgame couple, but it's actually one of the strongest hints of a Byler conclusion.

Because Mike was saying "I love you" to Will.

Sounds crazy? Of course! He was speaking directly to El, after all. What the hell am I talking about?

Some have focused on contradictions and other issues with what Mike says, including listing El's superpowers instead of the full person she wants to be loved for being. Plus he had to do it (and was pushed by Will), or else El and their friends in Hawkins might have died. It does seem like El sensed something off in what he said, which would explain why she hardly talked to him afterward. But I actually disagree about Mike's "I love you" being a total lie. In the official script it's written that it had a positive effect on El (although the way it was ultimately shot and edited made it more ambiguous). (I got this screencap from a TikTok video):

And so, in the van, Will DID make Mike love El. Mike MIGHT have wondered whether Will was talking about himself too, but one thing he was convinced of was that that El loved him because "he's the heart." Feeling like she loved him for who he was made him love her. I think it's more accurate to say that, while Mike's monologue may have had issues, he DID feel something genuine... BUT the logic of events leads more toward a BYLER conclusion than away from one.

The problem for Mike and El is that Mike was saying "I love you" to the idea of El that WILL put in his head:

Will said that El felt like a mistake, and that Mike made her feel like she was better for being different. She was terrified of losing him and so that's why she pushed him away.

So Mike came out of that conversation with new feelings for El: he thought that SHE needed HIM to love her, not because of "dumb luck," but because of his unique qualities. Who HE is helps her be a superhero.

But El's journey in Season 4 was to LEAVE Mike to "be a superhero." When she left a note for Mike, she tellingly signed it "From El." When she realized he couldn't say he loved her, she chose to let go of their romantic relationship. Her journey in Season 4 was about finding who she was independently from others in her life (most importantly her "papa" Dr. Brenner). El went through her own journey that REQUIRED separating from Mike.

By the time they reunite, she has grown. Instead of Mike coming up with the plan (like so many times before), EL came up with the piggyback plan. While she was piggybacking, Mike said "I love you" -- but having her self-image rely on how Mike sees her was something she was moving away from.

She had felt like a monster. What liberated her from feeling that was NOT Mike and not an elusive "normal life" (with a relationship). She had to realize this on her own:

There were clues in Mike's monologue for her to pick up on that he wasn't fully telling the truth, first and foremost him saying that he "knew, in that moment, that I loved you." (He couldn't have, when he was openly scheming in s1 to get her sent away, possibly to a mental hospital, loud enough for her to hear.)

But Mike DID mean it when he said "I love you." Mike saw someone who desperately needed him, someone whom MIKE was a hero to and not the other away around.

That person he was thinking of, of course, was WILL.

It wasn't like it was news to Mike that El needed his love: El confronted him earlier in the season for not saying he loved her. We all saw that El's heartbreak didn't convince Mike that he loved El.

Ironically, it was WILL'S heartbreak, HIS emotions, and HIS words that did. And Mike felt something real this time, because it came from WILL.

Will's statement in the van made Mike feel something romantic. (Meanwhile, in his confession to El, the words he was able to find expressed a genuine admiration and love that was more platonic.)

Will's words affected Mike deeply. Deep down, Mike wants to be someone's hero. He's the leader; he's "the heart." When dealing with a superhero like El, he can admire and love her, sure... but does it make MIKE feel loved for who HE is? Does a romantic relationship with El COMPLETE him? Mike doesn't want to be a discount Lois Lane. He wants be loved because who HE is makes him THEIR hero.

Mike has always been bullied, misunderstood, and angry. He rambled just before Will's speech about being "some random nerd" and feeling like he didn't deserve El. He felt inadequate, and this affected him ("leader Mike" recedes when he's in a relationship with El). Will's point "You make them feel better because they're different" doesn't just describe El + Will; this is what Mike is looking for, too.

Being "some random nerd" is part of why Will loves him so much. Will's painting was the perfect gift; Will knows and understands his best friend better than anyone. The D&D theme was a tribute to Mike the nerd -- with all his flaws -- who also is a hero and a leader. WILL's love makes Mike feel like he's better for who he is.

(Here's an angelwithnightmares video that shows this about Mike exactly)

Mike's journey in s4 was him rediscovering that he is a hero. And this required separating from El and hearing this from Will. Will said that he's the leader of the group: "You keep the party together." And earlier in the season he reminded Mike "you guys saved me" (with a proud "I did, didn't I" reaction from Mike that was super cute lol).

Will's love gave Mike the strength to be a hero again. Mike pretty much used Will's words in his monologue to El. Two scenes at the end of Season 4 foreshadowed "leader Mike" coming back; his speech to El, and his "We will" shoulder grab with Will. Whatever issues there were in his monologue, this was undeniably THE callback to "leader Mike" of s1 and s2. He didn't help El beat Vecna, but he helped them survive. It was WILL's love that helped him be a hero, and to say "I love you" to the person he thought made him feel that way, who as it actually turns out was WILL.

So we'll have a final season where there is this hugest of loose ends when it comes to Byler: Mike will somehow realize that Will in the van was describing himself and not El. Mike will realize that the first time he felt romantic love, was because of Will, and that Will more than anyone helps him be the hero he wants to be. (It's the perfect formula, writing-wise, to make a person confused about his romantic feelings!)

AND Mike will learn that Will sacrificed his own happiness for him and El. How does that NOT lead to Mike loving Will even more than he already does?

Finn Wolfhard himself said about the van scene:

How is he this clueless right now? What with the Will scene... I remember asking the Duffers, "Why would he not know all this?" And they were like, "Don't worry, kid, it'll pay off in the end."

I think it will.

P.S. Follow me and read my blog! I have so much to say!

#byler #byler theory #byler endgame #stranger things #st5 #mike's monologue #st4 #monologue

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lc-417 · 5 months

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Blue Eye Samurai Theory

*Spoilers Ahead*

This is just a crazy, shot-in-the-dark theory, but one that would make for an interesting twist (in my opinion anyway). What if Mizu's white half doesn't come from a man....but from a woman? Think about this:

Assuming Fowler isn't lying, the woman Mizu thought was her mother wasn't actually her mother. Just a maid paid to look after her (and who only did it until the money ran out). So who is Mizu's real mother then, and why couldn't she raise her daughter?

When Mizu was a baby, two men tried to kill her, but one lost the nerve and either maimed or killed his partner to save her instead. Could this have been her father, who couldn't bear to kill his own flesh and blood (even though it was mixed blood)? And though we never see him, we hear him refer to her as the "Devil Child". If this had been a white man, he probably would have made reference to her being a half-breed. It was the Japanese that saw her as a devil or demon.

It seems to be common knowledge that there were four white men in Japan when Mizu was born. But how many white women were there? Considering how Japanese women were seen as lesser than men, would anyone have even considered white women worth noting?

If the show keeps true to genetics, in order to be born with blue eyes, BOTH of Mizu's parents would need to be carriers of the recessive blue eye gene. So one of them had to be mixed race, or at least have white ancestry. Chances are equally good that this could have been her mother or her father. But seeing as how life was so difficult for Mizu that it was safer to pose as a boy, odds of surviving to adulthood would likely have been better for a mixed race man.

Like I said, just a crazy theory. But I think it would be interesting if, after killing all of her targets, Mizu discovers that none of them were her father and that the source of her white blood was her mother all along. Would she be as eager to exact revenge knowing a woman may not have had a say in the pregnancy?

Whatever direction this show takes, I just want Season 2 (and 3...and 4...whatever it takes to reach a satisfying conclusion). And soon (not 3 years later like Arcane). Get on it Netflix. If I don't get more Blue Eye Samurai, I'm gonna go on the revenge path...and I assume I won't be alone.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #Mizu #fan theory #fan thoughts

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mikkaeus · 10 months

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house md hilson fic rec - medium to long fics (10k+)

Other house rec lists: short fics | episode tags | postcanon | infidelity trope (all of these are mutually exclusive apart from the infidelity one) // Edit: I added the longer postcanon fics to this reclist as well because this one got the most traction!

These are all House/Wilson unless otherwise stated. Before we get into the fics, here are some of my fave authors that have written several house fics.

fourteencandles: im literally in love with them . 10/10 writing no notes. also long fics?? hello???

ictus: this author has the range! from emotional to fluff to funny. very smooth writing. all of their fics have different vibes which was fun to read. they’re all very good.

Transformatron: fics that are transcendent and porny, all featuring a d/s undertone or theme (wilson as the dom)

Namaste (livejournal / ff.net): Some short fics, some much longer ones. Mostly gen focussing on H&W friendship, with some fics on canon pairings. Interesting character studies and discerning prose.

In order of length. *faves, ***underrated faves

*Brain Damage by fourteencandles (8k) (Ok I know this isn’t over 10k but I wanted all of their fics on one post and it’s close enough so.) This was brilliant. Like a real episode of House, with Wilson as the unfortunate patient-of-the-week, with bonus House/Wilson. Characterisation was bang on, and the plot was original and engaging and had a satisfying conclusion. Love to see House taking care of Wilson.

Down to the Water + Bound for Home by blackmare (~10k) Aftermath of season 4. House and Wilson go on a road trip. Quiet and sad and fragile, with excellent writing. This fic appears to have been fairly well known in lj days but I don't think a lot of newer people know about it.

*A Smaller World by fourteencandles (10k) The thing between them works, if Wilson doesn't push for more. God I’m so soft. I have so many feelings!!! In love with this established relationship hilson, still a little precarious, but with Wilson adapting, and House willing to put in effort.

*What's Past by fourteencandles (10k) The guy who used to have Wilson's job comes back for a visit, and it turns out they have more in common than Wilson ever knew.

*Touch Therapy by nomad (10k) It's not that House needs the human contact. It's just that when you're sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes. Light hearted and funny, canon divergence from when Wilson’s staying on House's couch in s2. This is pretty much the homosexual waters have started flowing in House's direction post. Excellent dialogue.

***not another medical drama series (10k) by captainharkness Retelling of season 1 with House and Wilson as an established relationship. Great slice of life stories! Ongoing. The first is H/W POV, the second is Cameron, and the third is Chase. My favourite is definitely the second one (someone else’s story). I adore seeing H/W through the ducklings’ eyes.

Synchronicity by copperbadge (10k) Dead patients, car wrecks, drug overdoses, journalists, Comatose Charlie, and orange chicken. Must be love.

systemic by ictus (10k) Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis. Season 2 fic! This one is funny and sweet and overall a great read.

Rush Down Darkness by Starlingthefool (10k) House MD/World War Z crossover. Told mainly through interview dialogue from house’s pov. Engaging story. House/Wilson definitely takes a backseat to the plot — there’s no grand getting together or anything. That's not to say it's not about them though, because there were still lots of good moments (good in the sense that my heart hurts). More succinctly, it has the vibes of an established relationship fic., although it isn't technically one.

Defensive Strategies by Milkshake Butterfly (~10k) (lj) In which Wilson is tired of being asked out by women when he's not ready to date again, and naturally House proposes a simple solution: pretend to be together. An enjoyable read.

******Commonplace and True by celestialskiff (11k) It would be a simple story--House and Wilson meet at a medical conference, have sex, and enjoy each other's company--but nothing is ever easy, or simple. Explores Wilson's relationship with House, with women, and with himself. House and Wilson throughout the years — with the version of canon where Wilson has cheated on every wife and girlfriend with House. When I tell you I am FROTHING!!! Pining while fucking?? The way it’s never the right time?? The greed of wanting to have your cake and eat it too? (That one’s specifically for Wilson, our beloved three-wives guy.) The vibes are immaculate. The prose is elegant verging on poetic. I’m eating this fic whole and it will be on my mind always. It is THE hilson fic for me. It is criminal that this fic has been up since 2012 and it only has 200 kudos. Go read it immediately & give the author some love.

***Declarations of Independence by Namaste (ff.net, also on livejournal) (11k) House and winter, throughout the years. I really enjoyed this. Excellent writing. Copy pasting a part of a comment by bedawyn which articulates why this fic is unique better than I can: “So far, I've seen a lot of focus in the fanfic (and the eps) on the pain and the Vicodin, but very little awareness of the practical aspects of limited mobility and the emotional impact of those even apart from the pain. So this was a very nice change.”

***Rule of Three by Transformatron (11k) (House/Wilson/Foreman) Foreman sees something he shouldn't have. And, maybe, wants something he shouldn't have, too. This was well written and super hot, with fun dialogue and descriptions that do justice to the excellent writing of the show itself. Foreman is faithfully characterised in a way that made me sympathetic. Also H/W outsider perspective as a third is such a treat to read. Lower me into my grave!!!!

*Warning Signs by out_there (12k) Excerpt: House looked to the left, staring down at the open box. Wilson knew that expression on his face: House was torn between denying it all and gleefully acknowledging his schemes. Normally, his ego won out and, like a comic super villain, he'd explain all. Wilson just needed to stay quiet and wait. This fic was fantastic. I am disgustingly fond. Superb characterisation. Light hearted and funny.

The Oncologist Trap by zulu (13k) (2007) House subtly seduces Wilson. Somehow.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium (13k) House and Wilson pretend to be together to play a prank on the ducklings, which is an extremely plausible scenario. From the perspective of the ducklings. Set sometime after 3x15: Half-Wit.

hail mary by ictus (13k) A post-canon fix it! In the weeks since finishing the show and reading this fic there are times I forgot that this wasn’t canon. It’s such a believable (and well-researched) alternate ending that feels like an actual episode.

Son of Mine by simoneallen (14k) Sherlock is House’s long-lost kid. Usually I’m not a fan of cross-over fics but I enjoyed this one. Established relationship on the johnlock side, getting together on the hilson side.

***hearts turn red by ictus (14k) In my head this is the counterpoint to Commonplace and True. When I found it after reading that one it really was a holy shit two fucking cakes?? moment. The delicious infidelity vibes are similar, but the vibes of the writing are pretty different -- whereas the above fic has a more quiet, subdued atmosphere, this one has more snappy prose and it’s more light-hearted with funny moments as well as emotional ones. It’s not just the infidelity theme that makes me crazy about both of them though; it’s how they play on the great tragedy of House and Wilson. In the author’s own words: In a way they do feel a little bit doomed to never quite be on the same page with each other until the very end of the series and by then it's too late. Of course, in these fics, they’re rescued earlier than the end, but the wretched vibes remain. Also, I’m obsessed with this line: By Wilson’s read, House is somehow simultaneously joking and sincere: Schrödinger’s sexual advance. That is the entire fucking show.

An Inconvenient Truth by annathaema (15k) Wilson helps out Cuddy and reveals something about himself in the process. House freaks out accordingly. Also features banana-colored babies, the men's room, and Skee-Ball.

*at the rind by ShanaStoryteller (19k) An AU where Wilson experiences all the near death moments House has in the show as a series of nightmares. Set between 1.19 and 2.05, but spoilers for the whole show. Protective Wilson!! We love to see it. I also like Wilson’s characterisation here - you can very much see how not-normal he is. We love unhealthy co-dependency.

***Esopus Creek by shaycat (24k) An eighty-year-old widower by the name of Eugene Skinner ventures out one September day in upstate New York for his usual morning activity - fly fishing. His leisurely hobby is interrupted by a bickering pair nearby in the river. That chance encounter with Greg House and James Wilson changes the course of his life. Told from the perspective of the last friend the boys make on their final road trip. This was the perfect post season 8, Wilson-still-dies fic. A sad fic but not a depressing one. It’s quiet and heartwarming, in a bittersweet way. Highly recommend. It has great use of outsider POV — I’m always a sucker for it but it worked particularly well in this case to have the angst but not be drowning in it. Also I just really liked the OC.

***Howler Tone by baffledbear (25k) The calls always happen late at night, and they're extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way. Wilson is so repressed but so attracted to House. House is taking as much as he can get while still remaining in relative safety. Together they push a platonic relationship to the absolute limits of plausible deniability. Overall totally realistic within the canon of the show — the natural step up from the gay chicken already depicted. It’s just such a perfect scenario for them! That combined with silky smooth prose, faithful characterisation and accurate dialogue makes this fic is a definite hilson favourite and also a hilson-thesis fic.

*The Open Road by Pun (25k) A fandom classic. Road trip fic set in the earlier seasons. It's good; read it.

*He Won't Tell You That He Loves You by hellshandbasket (25k) [In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can't stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.] Early s6. Another fandom classic that is worth its salt.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare (25k) House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can't join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson's problem. Cute and fun. I put off reading fake-dating fics because I was worried about them being OOC but this one definitely wasn’t!

***Sticks and Stones by Transformatron (25k) (WIP) House has an innovative new idea for managing his chronic pain. Wilson’s not sure he approves - but when has House ever asked for permission? This is such a great concept I am climbing the walls!!! D/s with House as the sub. The story is currently still at pre-relationship stage, with House experimenting with BDSM and Wilson being unhappy with the proceedings (for some unknown reason /s). Also the writing is nice and snappy with some great figurative language that manages to incorporate medical themes impressively well.

Fresh Feeling by justkeeptrekkin (30k) House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else. Funny and well written. The team interactions are very cute.

***Tracking Time by Namaste (37k) (ff.net) A look at House and Wilson's friendship over the years and how it has changed from their meeting through the end of the first season. I don’t usually read long genfics but this one was exceptional. I like Namaste’s take on House and Wilson’s characters. And they are a very good storyteller — one thing that you don’t tend to see as much of in fanfiction is the old adage of ‘show not tell’. The writing in this fic is careful and subtle, and lets you read between the lines, making it so that no part of the 37k words is a drag to read.

*The Body Found by fourteencandles (46k) Wilson's missing. When I tell you I cried... Premium angst & hurt/comfort. Excellent dialogue with some alternating POV (House mainly, but you also get the three ducklings & Cuddy).

You Already Know How This Will End by fourteencandles (46k) What if House had gone to rehab right after/around "Merry Little Christmas"? (3.10) This fic was interesting. It’s told in a series of short vignettes with a variety of different perspectives. It’s not really a hilson fic (or a fic for any ship). It just explores the characters. I did wish for more hilson but it’s a good read (I mean, it’s fourteencandles). The one hilson scene near the end where they hire a hooker in Atlantic City lives in my head rent free. Warning that the ending is rather abrupt and I didn’t find it satisfying, but I think it works for this kind of story, in a way. Messy people and their complicated relationships, with a lot of loose ends left untied, because that’s just what life is.

***For Every Closed Door by starlingthefool (around 50k?) (lj) Overview of the chapters (14 with 4 interludes and an epilogue) is on the author’s lj (scroll down). House MD/Dead Like Me crossover. I love this fic a lot! It’s canon divergence from Season 3. House gets killed in a freak accident and becomes a reaper, remaining in the mortal world to harvest souls, able to interact with people but not be recognisable to those that know him. As the author says, this is an Afterlife!Fic and therefore a deathfic. They also said it’s not depressing — which is true, because it’s more plotty than an angstfest, and there are lots of light-hearted parts, but it is definitely heartbreaking at points. I literally cried all the way through the last chapter. Happy ending though!!! Don’t worry about the cross-over aspects. I haven’t seen Dead Like Me, and as far as I can tell, it just takes the premise of the show. I’m glad I found this fic whilst trawling 2000s livejournal because it’s really a hidden gem. Great plot, dialogue, compelling OCs — the whole package! I got so emotionally invested in the story. I think there were maybe a few parts that were a little unpolished but just keep reading. It’s really worth it.

*A Modest Proposal and Involuntary Commitment series by ignaz (98k) The one where House and Wilson get married so Wilson can’t testify against House in the Tritter arc. I have an unfortunate habit of downloading fics and then forgetting to bookmark & comment once I’m done, so I don’t have anything detailed to say about this one, but it’s a classic and a favourite of mine.

Twenty Years of Stealing My Food by hwshipper (100k) A backstory taking place over twenty years, from how House and Wilson met all the way to canon. A reimagining of their fucked up, magnetic relationship, with a straightforward writing style. They get together nearly as soon as they meet and maintain a steady open relationship whilst cheating on their various girlfriends and wives throughout the years.

#house md #hilson #house x wilson #house fic rec #house fic #house md fic rec #house md fic #my rec list

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valyrfia · 1 month

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I have seen a lot of criticism on Charles’ mentality because he didnt fight the team’s order telling him to hold position. People are saying he lacks the edge to win WDC.

Do you think Charles should defy the team order from a technical point of view?

He needs to learn to push back against team orders more often, yes. But to say he lacks the edge to win a WDC is ridiculous. We all saw him in 2019 eat up Sebastian Vettel despite team orders. The difference with yesterday is that Max Verstappen in a Red Bull is currently a little unbeatable, and Ferrari is now P2 in the constructors only 4 points off of Red Bull due to Charles helping them to maximise points. Charles could have fought Carlos quite easily and probably overtaken him for P1, but they would have wasted precious tyre deg and Carlos could have been easily overtaken by Lando then, especially since Carlos's tyre deg was higher than Charles's in the final laps, thus losing Ferrari three points.

So Charles obeying team orders was probably the right thing to do for the team on this occasion. The only issue I have is everyone going "oh Carlos is the only one who can beat Max Verstappen! Charles is so washed! Ferrari fired the wrong driver!" without looking at the whole picture. Both times, Charles has graciously played the role of second driver when needed in order to secure the team a win (a role Carlos has not reciprocated, lest we forget Vegas). It's just unfortunate that the only times Carlos beats him in a quali head to head are the times that Max is out of commission and Ferrari has the chance of fighting for a win. But I believe Charles's time will come again, after all seven front row starts in a row isn't too shabby.

Someone (I forget who) said it best in that this season for Charles will likely parallel Max's 2020 season, which was quietly fantastic. Apart from retirements, Max didn't finish a race below P6, which he only did once and then rest of the time finished in the top 3, pulling in two wins along the way. In a lot of ways, it sets Charles's 2025 season up to also parallel Max's 2021 season, a new teammate, the year before new regs, and an ever-improving technical team at the factory.....well I'll leave it up to you to draw conclusions.

Additionally, Max didn't win a championship until his seventh year in Formula 1, up until then there were also washed allegations surrounding him, and look at him now. The 2024 season is Charles's seventh season. Charles is only approaching his prime. He's still the third youngest driver to ever win a grand prix, and has a pole count equal with some WDCs. Just because Charles followed team orders in order to help secure his team two wins in an era that has otherwise been absolutely dominated by Max Verstappen in a Red Bull does NOT mean he's not WDC material.

#asks #anon #charles leclerc

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lenaellsi · 8 months

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i've mentioned this before and it's a Hot Take maybe but. i don't think it's fair at all to characterize crowley's "you and me, what do you say?" speech from s2 as being equivalent to "fuck the earth run away with me to the stars right now" a la season 1

i guess i can see why it might come off that way, with gabriel and beelzebub having just left and crowley drawing the comparison to them, but a lot of people have sort of extrapolated from that this dichotomy where suddenly aziraphale is the one who cares about saving the world and crowley only cares about himself and aziraphale. and while i think crowley certainly prioritizes their mutual safety and is more likely to get spooked when faced with threats from heaven (i wonder why) crowley also loves earth?? he talks about it all the time.

the last time there was an apocalypse, crowley was the one who proposed saving the world, and he had to talk aziraphale into it. and like...he was planning breakfast at the ritz, wasn't he? he didn't want to leave. obviously "you can't leave this bookshop" meant "you can't leave me," but it also LITTLE bit meant the bookshop, and earth.

the circumstances of s1 were very different than the end of s2. crowley only wanted to run in s1 when 1) the end was about 4 hours away, 2) from his POV he and aziraphale had no idea where the antichrist was, so they wouldn't be able to stop anything even if they did stay to die with the humans, 3) aziraphale was about to Talk To Heaven the same way crowley tried to before the Fall, 4) demons were actively pursuing him for purposes of torture and annihilation. and in the end, he STILL stayed.

idk. if we're going to give aziraphale the benefit of the doubt for the Many Things he said in that convo, then i think we can afford to give crowley the benefit of the doubt that "we need to get away from them" and "go off together" might mean something more along the lines of "please don't go back to heaven, stay with me, it can be the two of us against them all." THAT was what crowley's emotional arc this season was leading to, with the flashbacks and his big revelation in ep 5, the same way aziraphale's was leading to leaving. every single one of the flashbacks had crowley choosing to help someone else at great personal risk--why would that lead to the conclusion that he actually wants to leave without trying to help? (of course, he did want to abandon gabriel. but I don't think that was even a little bit irrational after aziraphale's failed execution. walking away from the heavenly host who has done nothing but hurt both of them is not the same as walking away from earth. it's still a problem--ignoring heaven and hell will not, ultimately, fix anything--but again, it's not the same as abandoning humanity on a whim.)

TL;DR I don't think it's a fair reading to say that crowley's proposed solution to The Heaven And Hell Problem is "fuck humanity, let's give up." i think he was proposing working together against heaven and hell with the option of an exit strategy if everything went wrong, which is what he ALWAYS tries to do. (see: arrangement + holy water.) his need for an escape route and his tendency to prepare for the worst is something that is definitely hindering him in, for example, his relationship with aziraphale, but it also makes sense. because, you know. the last time he tried doing anything about heaven he got his wings lit on fire. so.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #crowley #good omens meta #call me a crowley stan but it's not fair to him to say that he doesn't care about anything but himself and aziraphale. he cares so much.#he didn't have to help job's kids. he didn't have to help elspeth. but he did #even though hell punished him for it when he got caught in edinburgh #he went back up and continued to do things his own way #but he also asked aziraphale for insurance. that's how crowley operates #push and push and push until you cross the line #and then run like hell to try to get out of the fire

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wonderfulwonderrful · 5 months

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Season of Love (4/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Thank you for all the love!

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 4: No brakes, just love!

Austria

When you arrive at the pitlane in Spielberg, you notice a couple of heads turning towards you on your way to the W garage after your long absence.

Toto's eyes look intensely at you as you cross past the Mercedes' garage. Yes, he looks mad. Oh boy, that's one conversation you want to avoid having so bad.

—Did all go well? —Michael asks you as he greets you with a hug once you get in there; he is standing next to Millie's car, and his wording takes you slightly by surprise; you look at him, somewhat alarmed, as a different idea crosses your mind. —Your business trips, I mean —he clarifies as he notices your confused face.

—Oh, that, yes, the business trips, yeah, all good. Thank you! —you change topics as fast as possible, not wishing to lie to Michael. —Have I missed much?

—Well, it got interesting to say so.

—What?

He turns you around and nods towards a hurt-looking Charles Leclerc supervising his Ferrari car, crunched and pointing something while talking to a mechanic.

Charles has his hands covered in bandages, and his face is all bruised. What on earth! You lock eyes with him, and he looks surprised to see you there, then frowns at you slightly. You point your index finger to the left, and he gets your "See you in that narrow corridor where no one will see us."

—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!? —You rush to take a good look at him when he catches your step, honestly concerned.

—That's what I asked myself! By "See you soon," you meant in four weeks! Good thing you didn't say, "See you in a while"!

—I'm sorry.

—Yeah, you better be! I texted you god knows how many times!

—I know, I'm sorry.

—Yeah, I'm really pissed at you, Y/N!

You look down at the floor, fucking sad. Charles notices it.

—But I'm even more glad and grateful to have you back —Charles pulls you into a tight hug, avoiding pressuring his bandaged hands against your body. —You had me worried.

You take a good peek at those.

—Second-degree burns on each. Something wrong went with my car; they are still investigating it. I lost brakes and control of her; thank god there wasn't a concrete wall or metal barrier and fence nearby, just rows of bumpers and forest beyond; a part at the front of the car caught fire due to the extreme friction, and that burned me.

You look at him, very pale, with your eyes widened.

—I know, I get what could have happened, but it didn't —Charles looks away with watery eyes. —So, let's move on. I'm not stopping racing.

You wipe a tear coming down your face.

—Oh no, no, I'm fine. It will take a minute, but I will be ready for the Dutch GP.

—Like a turkey put in an oven.

—I'll be fully cooked by then!

You both laugh; you missed your silly times with Charles so much. You picture him in a puffy turkey costume, struggling to get inside his car, not fitting.

—I'm glad you are alright; well, you know what I mean. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you needed it.

—It's okay, you are now.

Hi, honey! Yeah, no... Hi! Toto!? No! Once more... Hello Tots! Better! Remember that time when we fucked the shit out of each other, and then I disappeared for weeks? I'm back now! How is it going, my love? Yeah, like any of that is going to work.

You wait for the rest of the Mercedes team to leave their garage to slowly approach him, taking your time with each step, fighting your urge to run away.

—A text would have been nice —He tells you as soon as he feels you near, his eyes reading a graph slide on his iPad. Okay, that's a really icy tone.

—I'm sorry. I...

—Uhmju. So... —he closes the tablet's case, gets on his feet, fully upright, his height towering over you, and leans against the control center table, looking straight at you. —Business trips, huh? —he crosses his muscular arms. —Where have you really been? —Even if you are that nervous, you can't avoid peeking at his attractive flexed biceps.

—In Belgium. I had a personal emergency.

—What happened? —he swifts his tone to slightly concerned.

—I can't tell you.

He frowned at your answer, which was not good enough for him.—I see. It's not like it matters that you vanished for a month without a trace or warning and that didn't answer any of my worried calls or my sleepless late-night texts —Toto says.

—Toto, I-

—It's not like you have to explain a thing to me. It's not like I worried anyway —Toto interrupts you with a lot of sarcasm, moving to place his things inside his briefcase. —Well, I do really have a business trip to go. Excuse me —he passes you by, inches away, dodging your body.

He leaves you standing there, alone in the now empty Mercedes' garage. —I'm happy to see you —you say softly to yourself as you watch him walk further away in the distance, feeling you are about to cry.

How can his voice go from soft and sweet to sexy and guttural to authoritarian and commanding to this condescending and cold one? It needs to be studied.

The following day, Toto is nowhere to be seen. Sam notices you glancing around the paddock, looking for him near the Merc area. You don't feel like losing him, and you are there to try again to offer him an apology.

—He is in Germany. He will be here later —she tells you as she reaches you after exiting the Mercedes hospitality. —Hi! We didn't have a chance to talk yesterday; it's been crazy days for this team! How did it go?

—He is so mad at me anyways —you let out very sad. Sam can't avoid feeling sorry for you, which you notice and hate.

—He has been under much pressure lately; we are still in P3 at Constructors and Drivers, and we got disqualified in Canada to add more to his stress.

—What?!

—Tecnicallities and human errors, which had him fuming. Plus, all the drama in his personal life with you missing.

—And the Sussie drama, too, probably.

—Sussie's drama?! —she looks at you perplexed, like a second head had grown from your neck.

—I had dinner at Lewis before Matthew's call. He mentioned at the table that she was staying with him at his place in Monaco; he made it sound like they were still in a relationship but on rocky times.

—Toto is not that type —Sam reassures a slightly insecure-looking you. —I would ask him about it, but he no longer confides in me. By the way, now Toto knows when I lie —that's why Samanta hates letting his walls down; it makes her more vulnerable to others. —You don't know how many times he asked me things; I denied knowing what was going on with you or where you were every time, but not once he believed me. It got worse when he noticed a nervous Niki looking straight at me whenever he came to inquire. So it will be best if you let me out of the loop, but only a bit, eh?

You look stunned at her; wow, Toto did really know Sam; reading her was so difficult. Then you move to answer her previous question, informing her: —The plan is still on track, with no significant alterations. We ran a couple of scenarios with the tactics department, and it all went well; even Pascal joined us to give his input. It felt weird to be back at the manor, like somehow I didn't belong there anymore; I missed my new life and you guys so fucking much!

—Pascal went to the manor?! —Sam's eyebrows go up in the air, stunned.

—No, no, he joined us in a secure call line. You know Matt doesn't allow him there; plus, he is still under house arrest in Hungary.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about that; it's been a while —Sam scratches her head. —Are you nervous?

—Yes.

—I will be there by your side —she squeezes your hand.

—Oh no, I don't want you even near all that.

—And everyone missed you too! The group was worried!

It hits you differently now, by how things turned out.

But you can't avoid thinking that you are in Toto's homeland, which makes your mind wander to the dangerous thoughts you have been avoiding all day.

All those what-ifs?

What if you hadn't left?

What if Toto wasn't mad at you?

What if he had taken you to a romantic dinner in Vienna?

What if he had shown you his favorite places from growing up?

You also can't escape the thought of Toto's family.

What if they showed up?

What if you had met them?

What if you got introduced to them?

Of course, none of this will happen because you two aren't a thing yet. You killed your chances, and now you two are just friends who slept with each other and desire one another, but just that.

Oh god, you pray you two aren't really just that.

You screwed things with Toto so fast, don't you? It happened sooner than you expected to.

It's late. Toto arrives at his remote office straight from the jet in the late afternoon and stays working till dark. He has several papers to read and sign and essential things to approve; he needs quietness and no one bothering or interrupting, which is impossible during work hours. He sees you walk past behind the tinted windows of his headquarters. It is unusual for you to be around at these hours.

The lane is empty, and your heels sound louder than they should. All building facades remain lit, and only a couple of rooms inside them have the lights on for those late stayers, making the paddock feel less lonely than it should as you rush to your car on your way out. It was a tough day and an awful one.

Toto grabs his things and tries to reach you; he is angry and stressed, but it is not all your fault. He closes the door loudly, on purpose. You turn around at the sound, jumping a bit. He is about to crack a joke to ease things and come closer waving a peace flag but notices your red eyes from crying. His expression changes to one of honest concern.

—Shit —you let out softly, under your breath. He is the last person you want to meet in this state.

He comes close and stares at you for a good second. You don't say a word, and he tightly wraps you in his arms. He is warm and smells so good. You bury your head in his chest and meld in his embrace. He rests his chin on the top of your head; the height difference makes it comfortable for him.

—Feel like talking about it? —Toto says sweetly.

—No.

—Okay, it's all good. You don't have to. Can I hold you till you feel better?

—Yes, please —you softly sob; you feel like a little girl in his arms. He makes you feel like that all the time. You are only a couple of years younger than him. But he is such a grown-up in your eyes. And you are a fragile, weak thing on the constant verge of breakdown.

You cry in his arms, and he wipes and kisses your tears away. You melt inside. This man is too much.

He carries you in his arms inside the modern Mercedes building to the unlit, empty lobby; you two cuddle on the floor, Toto's back against the hallway wall, on top of the silver arrows logo carpet, and you lay on his chest, your legs crossing his.

Toto apologizes: —I shouldn't have said those things like that, but I was sore.

—I understand where it comes from. It's okay, I get it. I missed you so much —you let Toto know; he leans his forehead on yours, noses touching too.

And you kiss. You feel Toto's warm and soothing lips on yours, and you two start to tenderly and sweetly make out; it's warm, wet, and intimate, and when you are to caress his neck with your hand, almost out of breath but not able to stop, he suddenly breaks it off, taking you by surprise.

—We should leave; we don't want fines on our way for overstaying. Stay with me tonight.

You nod, agreeing.

It's an exquisite bathroom the one in his hotel suite, with white walls decorated with the French boiserie technique and polished marble white floors with ornamental gold flowers hand-painted on the large tiles. Tall windows let the light enter behind the light curtains. A large frame mirror with gold edges sits against the wall and over the floor.

You two share the white bathtub, a 19th-century piece with gold leaf borders; you are happily placed on top of him inside it in the warm water, rubbing the expensive bamboo mesh loofah on his naked chest while he lets you know every detail about his trip to Germany and the crazy weeks he had while placing small kisses on your shoulders, neck, and mouth every once in a while.

After that relaxing and repairing scented bath, you make it to the bed, and since all your things are in your hotel room, you steal one of his t-shirts as pajamas, both knowing quite well it's too tempting that you sleep butt naked on top his mattress, you both have to wake up early the following morning, and it's been a hectic day. Still, you decide not to wear underwear beneath it.

You make yourself comfortable on his bare firm chest, tracing small circles with your fingers on his pecks; Toto is only wearing tight navy blue and light fabric boxers, which make his bulge look so fine down there; you feel him pat your ass skin softly; and placing his large hand there before falling asleep.

If none of you were this tired and this emotionally drained right now, you would be about to reach an orgasm at this point.

You wake up early and share the room-service breakfast you ordered; you give Toto some of your fruit to his mouth, and he shares with you his salmon bagel; emotions always open the appetite before leaving the room with enough time to arrive at the circuit, you need to make a stop at your hotel before heading to the track.

When the SUV arrives at the drop-off entrance in front of the hotel's baroque facade, Toto pulls you into a kiss in the backseat, leaving you gasping for more before you exit the car.

—We still have free time, so —you whisper against his lips.

He smiles at you. Toto drags you to the elevators faster than an F1 car.

You both enter your hotel suite and go straight to the bed, clothes getting out in the way on your path.

He spreads you on your knees, on all fours, on top of the mattress, at the border of the bed, while he fucks you doggy style while on his feet. You bounce against his hard cock, skin slapping, moans coming out from both sides when the tip of his dick hits the spot inside you. Every time, more desperate strokes. He slaps you on the ass. His open palm hits your right ass cheek, leaving a mark.

Then he grabs you firmly by the hips, adding pressure, and starts to give it to you harder and faster. You can't stop moaning from the pleasure. You are being so loud, but you don't care; you feel done holding back or hiding any emotions that man makes you feel.

What Toto does to you next is unholy. He runs his hands along your arms till he reaches your palms, then wraps them around his own neck to make you support yourself, provoking you to arch your back. His free left hand caresses your chin and neck, then softly chokes you, making you turn your face to look straight at him.

Holding you in that position, he starts playing with his tongue inside your mouth. He licks your lips and bites them while adding pressure against your hips and buries his right fingernails in your right soft tigh. He is as inside you as he can. He is aching for you more every second.

He starts rocking himself against you, hitting your pussy and ass faster this time around. He has you moaning incoherently. The rhythm is so good; he fucks you in that position for a while till you start to feel so warm inside with each penetration; he is hard as fuck. And you feel you can't keep it together any longer. The pleasure is unbelievable. And you want to release. You start begging him to stop, well knowing you mean don't you dare! —Baby, I can't! Baby! I can't take it anymore! —You feel a hot sensation running down your legs. —Toto! —you moan as you start squirting all over your thighs and his.

—Fuck! —he growls, almost bestially, against your ear, getting drunk on your sents and fluids.

He shifts his whole body weight against yours, slowly pushing and pinning you down, your tummy against the mattress. Toto extends your arms and intertwines your hands and fingers with his in a sort of arrow position, completely topping you, rocking his hips in circles against your ass; you feel buried under his weight till Toto moans intense cumming noises to your ear, those noises drive you mad. He sounds so hot when he finishes.

—Stay in —you beg him. Oh, how he looks at you, what his eyes express makes your heart melt. You want him to be obsessed with you, to breathe you. It's borderline toxic, but that's how infatuated you are with him. You two remain in that position while kissing the life out of each other. You can feel him swing his hips every once in a while till his erection fades away.

Toto is the first one to step out of the shower; you enjoy the view of him butt naked, his wet hair dripping, the drops traveling through his bare chest down his abs and lower body while he strokes his length and legs with the towel, getting dry.

Once you are dry, too, and wrapped in a bathrobe, you start picking your clothes from the entryway floor; you two barely made it to the bed, unable to contain yourselves a second more, before going to the dressing room to select your outfit for today.

Toto is again putting on his Mercedes uniform, now in a bit of a rush.

You are looking for your thong everywhere on the carpet, not knowing where it flew; you want to avoid the maid the awkward moment; it's the only piece of clothing missing.

—I'm happy to have you back —he says with his whole heart, looking at you while finishing buttoning up his shirt.

—I counted the days to be back with you —you say, emotional. Toto comes close, kisses the palm of your hand, and licks your index finger.

—I hope you don't need to leave again soon, but if you do, these stay with me —he is holding your panties hostage in his black jeans left pocket.

None of you feel like saying goodbye and keep finding excuses in the form of kisses and petting to postpone it. Still, you must be discreet and professional and somehow manage to be together amidst everything in your life. It is a high-risk and conflict-of-interest kind of relationship on all fronts, but it feels worth it to you that you are ready to risk it all for him.

Sam, Charles, and you are hanging out in a famous high-end bakery in Vienna. The place is very bright, with high ceilings, white walls with mint accents of color, greenery, and modern gold lamps give the place its character; a massive large white wood display counter bar is full of rows of delicious pieces of bread and desserts, the clear wooden floors, light wood furniture, and small tables make it feel cozy. The place smells so good and feels warm.

Your mood is entirely different now. Sam stares at you while slurping dramatically and loudly the remains of her chocolate frappe through the straw.

—What? —you say while chewing your sacher würfel when you notice her eyes on you.

—They fucked —Charles adds before Sam can open her mouth. You two turn his way. He moves his hand in a kind of I recognize that smile on her while holding his vanilla kipferl.

—Yes —You admit, all blush. —But we discussed things too! —you rush to add.

—You told him where you went and what happened? —Charles asks you.

—You asked him about the Sussie thing? —Sam asks you.

Both at the same time.

—Well, no...

They roll their eyes at you.

Then Sam looks at you like you are crazy. —Then what did you two discuss? WAIT! Did you tell Charles?

—Of course, she told me! We are roomies AND besties!

Then Sam acts all jealous. —Hey! Get your own best friend!

—Charles intercepted me on my way out of the apartment; he only knew I would be out of town for a while —you clarify to Sam quickly before she slips out something important. —By the way, how is "abs" doing? —then you address Charles.

Samanta looked confused; she had never heard that name before. —Who is "abs"?

—Our womanizer neighbor in Monaco.

Still blank.

—The blond dude with long hair in a man-bun that's all ripped and has insane abs? —Charles gives her input.

Sam shakes her head.

—The one who is always shirtless and looks like Thor? He lives in the apartment right across our hallway and door —You add.

—No idea —she says, feeling left out.

—He is nice. Well... Yeah, it is hard to define. Sometimes, he hides from his conquests at our place after having fun, waiting for them to go. But he is hilarious and brings beers on cheat day Thursday —Charles explains.

—You going to love him, trust me, he is a sweet and trustworthy brute —you tell Sam.

A Twitter notification sounds on Millie's phone.

"Oh, miss Normani, it's great to have you back! Ferrari's red is a color that suits your skin so well; God bless the QUEEN!🐝🇬🇧" a video is attached along with the Sky Sports tweet. A stunning, athletic young girl walks down the paddock lane wearing impeccable street-style clothing, looking so chic, cameras flashing photos at her; Lewis's clothing game is getting challenged.

—Trouble is on our way —Millie hands her phone to Michael.

—Oh, yeah, I heard the rumor at the start of the season that she would be taking the reserve driver seat for them, but that it went cold —Michael adds.

—Your sources are shit then —Millie jokes. He softly pushes her out of his way, joking.

—Well, let's give her a fight! —He motivates Millie.

—Certainly, I didn't see this one coming our way —Christian lets out after getting the news.

—Sorry, but who is she? —Helmut asks him.

—She's just the biggest name in girls' racing ever, no big deal —he jokes sarcastically.

—The one that disappeared at the top of her game? I followed the scandal back in the day —Checo admits.

—Well, she is no longer on hiatus, it seems. Good thing is only for a few races! —Christian says while following her with his gaze as she enters the Ferrari headquarters.

—Mattia almost shit his pants when she finally answered him back. You are going to adore her. Normani is THE thing! —Charles gossips with Sam and you in the armchairs in the lobby of the Williams headquarters. —She lives in London and knows excellent places to hang out next week. I invited her to join us.

—I love the idea; this group always has room for another girl.

Once you are back at the circuit after lunch, you catch Toto sitting alone at a large picnic table under the shadow of a tree in an area further away from the hospitality and garages, working with his phone in hand. That man is all work, when will he relax? You go on your way there to annoy him so much.

—There is an entire long empty bench, and you sit right next —He tells you, in a deep voice but joking, arching his eyebrow, sensing your body against his.

You smile and giggle, getting even closer to him, almost blending with his side.

—God —he lets out exasperated but crosses an arm behind you and places his hand on top of yours, caressing it.

Then you move to get your things out of your large Bottega Venetta tote bag to work by his side; you have emails to answer.

You two get in the zone and focus on your tasks till you notice Toto moving his head to nose in your business.

—What's that mail for? Who are you sending it to? Why are you sending it? Hey, don't look at me like that. You are the one who chose to sit right next. I ask questions all the time; that's my job.

—Okay, but the annoyance part is my job in our relationship —you dare to shoot your shot, to see how he reacts, what he says.

You obtain no comment; he simply replies: —You have a fake job, remember?

Then, you slowly and overdramatically close your small and slim laptop with a single finger.

Toto looks at you with his eyes half closed and chin up.

—My secrets aren't for free, my love —you joke. You regret that wording later.

—Okay —He pays you with a couple of quick kisses; you are in a not very transit area and have enough privacy to do so. —What were you doing in Belgium?

—I meant the Williams-related ones; those are the ones for sale!

—Oh! Those I don't care about; we are about to bite you guys in the ass, anyways! —he says, overconfident, teasing you.

—Toto, dreaming is for free, don't you know?!

Toto was right; Lewis and George make a one-two. Normani gets on the podium, too, leaving Millie out. Well, that was quite the introduction for her.

Very late at night, you hear knocks on your suite door; you leave your warm and cozy bed to attend it. It's Toto.

As soon as you open the door, you feel a pair of lips on yours.

—I thought I would be sleeping all alone and sad after today's race on this chilly night —you pout, stopping kissing a second.

—Sorry, I went out to celebrate with the boys —Toto is a bit tipsy; he is wearing casual clothing now; layering looks so good on him! He is wearing a black turtle neck long-sleeve shirt under a very expensive cashmere grey, plain, modern blazer paired with black pants, loafer shoes, and an obsidian and silver bracelet; his hair is messy.

Toto gets sillier and more relaxed when in that state, a thing you love, and also he gets hornier, too, to your pleasure.

The rustic fireplace is on, keeping the spacious room warm. You witness Toto rearrange the area; Toto pushes the coffee table out of the way in the sitting area right in front of the fire and brings pillows from the bed to let them fall on top of the puffy brown rug in there.

Then he comes for you and takes you there by the hand. You two lay there wrapped in each other arms, making out. Toto's hands are on your ass and hips.

—Cozy and warm enough, baby girl? —he asks against your lips.

—Eh... —you shrug, joking. He smiles at you, then combs your hair tenderly with his fingers.

—Is there a chance you have a condom? We used the one in my wallet in the morning.

You shake your head; oh, bummer!

—Is it okay if I finish outside?

You feel your body shiver at his words.

—Yes. It's okay.

Clothes start to go out of the way; he gets you naked in no time; you are only wearing a black one-piece, sexy satin lace nightdress. He moves to help you get him undressed. His eyes go all over your body. —I keep fantasizing about what I'm going to do to you.

He takes you by surprise. Your cheeks turn red.

When you are both naked, he pushes you closer by the ass, making you spread your legs to give him room to get in the middle; you are sitting in a lotus position, your legs flexed over his, your thighs touching his thighs, he runs his hand all over your leg down to your ankle, you wrap your hands around his neck while you kiss.

Then, he slowly starts to lay you low on your back, making you lay on the pillows; he helps you make yourself comfortable on them and starts playing with your nipples, licking them with the tip of his tongue and biting them softly while locking eyes with you. He cups your tit and sucks it into his mouth; after a bit, he moves his way down. He starts eating your pussy like he is starving; you feel his wet tongue deep in you. He loves giving small kisses to your clit, provoking you to moan a lot. —I love running my tongue over every inch of you —he lets you know.

—Do you feel like to 69? —you ask him in the middle of a moan.

—Please —his voice is rough.

You sit on top of him, and you feel him burying his face in you, hand squeezing your ass while continuing to taste your pussy; amidst your loud moans, you start stroking his length and go down on his cock; you love his dick inside your mouth. You are giving him head so good that he stops for a minute to breathe heavily and moan.

—Fuck! I want to make it inside you; if you keep going, I'm going to burst inside your mouth.

—I wouldn't mind, but I love having you inside me, too.

You are more than wet and him more than hard when he slowly enters you. You both savor the movement. Then he flexes your left leg up and supports your calf on his shoulder. He starts to thrust you in that position while grabbing your right tit tightly. You feel his dick sliding inside every time faster. You are both panting and gasping.

He then switches positions, taking control this time; he gets your knees together and makes you get your legs up; he holds you in place with a firm grip from his hand on your hamstring muscles in a "hero" sex position, and Toto rocks his hips back and forward with deep strokes, you feel and see how his dick is curving up.

You start to scratch his thigh with your fingernails and slap his ass as the pleasure gets too good. —You fuck me so good, baby —you moan, reaching an orgasm in that position.

After giving yourself time to catch your breath for a second, you see how Toto lays down back against the rug; you immediately move to ride him. You feel him throbbing in pleasure inside and underneath you as you bounce hard up and down his dick; with your tits bouncing, he extends his arms to reach them and pinch your nipples, adding pressure with his fingers; then he starts wincing and biting his own lips; after a while, he rushes to place one of his large hands in your tummy, and you pull his cock out of you to start jerking it. Lots of guttural sounds come out of his mouth till he starts dripping. You feel his warm semen on your hand and abs, and you caress his chest with your free one and bend to kiss him hungrily.

Then he captures that hand and starts licking your index and middle fingers, sucking them inside his mouth and getting them wet enough with his saliva to then start leading your hand down on you, making you finger yourself, his hand on top of yours controlling and directing the movements. It gets to a point when you are so inside yourself and extremely wet that you are mess-moaning his name. Soft "Totos" is all he hears.

—Cum baby, cum for me —you feel your body trembling with his touch and yours. And you release, leaking on the rug beneath you.

Your bodies are so heated and sweaty near the fireplace; he drops on his back after being angled fingering you, with his cock bent to the left. You place yourself next to him, hands running on his shoulders and toned arms. You kiss in that position for a while before heading towards the bathroom.

Before falling asleep, your chauffeur knocks on the door to deliver you a drugstore bag. As you finish drinking your tall glass of water after taking the Plan B pill and place it on the nightstand, Toto tells you he is going to spend time with his family so that he won't be sharing the flight to the UK with you. He will arrive two days later, just in time for the race.

He doesn't invite you to join him.

You are all forced to rush to Silverstone from Austria for the anniversary race of the F1, which will take place before the usual activities of the Hungary GP start, leaving no room to rest for anyone.

It's going to be such a unique and fabulous event, and indeed, the FIA outdid themselves. Still, it's insane for the drivers and teams to rush from one country to another and move all the equipment and people with zero time margin. No one is in their best senses when arriving at the circuit, and everyone looks like it.

Due to the logistics of the massive event, the meeting before free practice is to start at 6.00 a.m. Lando hits his head against the clear glass panel doors, trying to enter the meeting room, half asleep, holding a Red Bull in his shaky hand.

He goes straight to you. You are already sitting in the chair with your name tag. At this point, no one cares about them or respects them. It is more like a classroom now; the group always sits together at the back of the room.

Lando mumbles something that you and Millie believe means good morning, and then he takes a couple of the empty chairs next to you to lay on top of, placing his head on your thighs and using them as a pillow.

Making you laugh. —Okay, yes, go ahead —you joke. Then Lando really falls asleep. —Lando out! —you inform the group.

Lewis is in the same row as you, but at the very end, legs on top of the empty chairs beside him, with his back leaned against a sound asleep Vettel, buried beneath a massive puffer Mercedes' jacket, tilted against the wall in a sitting position.

The room is almost empty except for you five.

—Angela almost tore down my bedroom door; she knocked so hard to wake me up. I nearly didn't make it, guys; I don't know how I got here —Lewis chats with you with a sleepy voice and swollen eyes.

Christian enters the room. —Is tits freezing today —he greets you. With a couple of "ah" sounds, he drops himself on the chairs in the front row. —I'm so old for this! —you all laugh. —You two look so well put together —He addresses Lewis and you, looking as stylish as ever. —I envy you.

Millie showed up in a set of Kuromi's pajamas, cocooned under Mick's Williams team winter jacket, that looked huge on her.

—Thanks, man —Lewis says.

Charles enters, greeting you with a peace sign gesture, followed by Carlos piggybacking a sleeping Daniel. —I would give you a hand, but... —Charles jokes, showing his bandages.

Normani enters, stealing the entire room's attention, wearing a white Dior long fleece blazer on top of a form-fitted pearl wool dress and a matching long scarf paired with high-knee suede boots in the same color. It's a monochromatic, stunning look with a combination of textures; her long hair is in a sleek ponytail, allowing it to show the beautiful minimal white gold earrings she is wearing, completing the look.

Millie waves her hand at Normani, and she looks happy to see her in there. After greeting the room, she reaches to sit by her side and catch up. You all look at her in awe. She is so beautiful, like a doll.

—Is that Geroge? —Niki asks, on attendance this time, since Toto is not around yet.

—It's Sebastian —everyone answers in unison. He and Lewis are the first two to arrive, so no one witnessed how Vettel fell asleep mid-conversation in his chair like a grandpa and how Lewis got him warm and covered under his Mercedes puffer, yet no one has a doubt it is him who is hiding underneath there; this surprises Lewis.

—I'm shooting the poor fucker responsible for waking me up this early —Niki shouts, provoking smiles.

At his back, Masi enters the meeting room, looking very worried.

London is one of Sam's favorite cities; it has everything she likes. Plus, it's full of very cool girls who make her nervous and all blushy, so she loves to run errands for Niki when in town; she always ends up meeting someone and asking for a date. The best sex she has ever had in her life has been there; her greatest loves have been "chapstick" lesbians from East London.

Sam has spent her entire day on the streets being driven around, completing all the tasks on Niki's long list of things he asked her to do. It's getting dark, and the last item for today is to drop some jewelry at Cartier to get it clean. So the chauffeur takes her to the one in Old Bond Street. Her favorite, Sam, loves it even more when it's Christmas and the stunning decor is on the facade.

The store's doorman rushes to open her car door as the SUV pulls in front of the jewelry main entry. She gracefully gets down and greets him.

—Good evening, mam —he replies, welcoming her inside. Sam had been feeling happy the entire day, but it went away as soon as she entered. In the contiguous stanza, in the highly expensive-looking sitting area, Toto and Sussie are looking together at some exclusive pieces a sales lady is showing them; Sam glimpses the sparkles projected out of those under the lights from far away.

Toto is not supposed to be here, nor are they supposed to be together, she thinks, but disregards the thought; probably he just got free sooner, and they are just hanging out since Sussie lives here most of the time.

Then she goes ahead with her errand; as Sam delivers the pieces to the man behind the counter, she sees Toto getting handed back his credit card; after a bit, a man gives a box to Sussie's hands; they get up at the same and start exiting the room together; holding hands.

Fuck! They are about to see her; there is no way she can duck down and hide behind clear crystal panels.

—Sam! —Sussie greets her, noticing her and happy to see her.

Fuuuuuuck.

Toto turned his head, perplexed; he was checking out the male bracelets on the display wall on their way to the exit. He lets Sussie's hand go, and she comes close to hug Sam.

—Hi! How are you? Good to see you!

—Likewise!

—Shopping spree?

—Oh, no, I'm just running an errand for Niki —she waves her hand, dismissing it. —All ready? —Sam addresses the jewelry cleaner guy.

—In a minute —he offers her a smile.

—Hey, why don't you join us for dinner?! —Sussie offers her.

—I would love to! But I have another task yet; I don't wish to get Niki all grumpy; you know how he is when he gets in a bad mood —Lies. Sussie laughs and nods, agreeing; Toto remains quiet and further away.

—Well, next time, then! When you are in Monaco too, come to our place, yes?

—Yes!

Okay, this is a shitty position to be for Sam; if she doesn't tell you, she is a terrible friend to you. But if she tells you, she is a lousy friend to Toto. LORD HAVE MERCY! She needs to give it a thought before opening her mouth!

When Toto decides to show up at the paddock, he goes to look for you. He looks tired and falls asleep next to you on a bench. You cover his face with your Balenciaga bomber jacket, giving him more privacy. You rest your left hand on top of his chest.

Samanta then arrives.

—Oh, he is here, good.

—Shss, he just fell asleep!

—This reminds me of how babies are so cute when sleeping but a terror when up.

—He is always baby —you say with a silly voice, caressing his chest.

Toto tries to listen to the conversation beneath your jacket with his eyes closed; he is about to fall asleep when he hears Samanta's voice. He needs to talk to her and explain things, but he is so comfortable in your embrace, so that can wait.

—Haven't you seen his photo from when he was a kid? They asked us for the digital version to print and place on the commemorative mural the FIA is making for the anniversary pit walk.

—No, I haven't! Is it better than baby Bottas?

—Oh, you are going to die! I have the original one in my purse here —Sam hands you a glossy, old-looking picture, a bit yellowy.

—Aawwww, he is so cute! —You observe in detail the photo of little Toto, a bit tall for his age, with skinny legs and dark, wild hair up and to the sides, leaned against his go-kart, helmet in hand; his little sister makes a small appearance in the back, picking a pebble or something from the floor wearing a floral pattern jumper. Toto is wearing an electric blue seventies driver's suit. —Hair hasn't changed a bit; that pose is everything! —you instantly get heart eyes. —His nose is so tiny, and he looks adorable. So cute! —you say with a silly voice and stare at the picture more.

—Now give it back! —Sam demands you; she yanks the photo of your grip, struggling until you let it go, then Sam archives it quickly in her purse.

—Now, shush! I'm reading essential documents —you tell her.

—Like your job was for real!

—Excuse you with that again! —Sam smiles at you and quickly disappears, noticing you are about to throw your tumbler at her.

Half an hour later, you feel Toto move on the bench, turning and almost falling to the side. He tries to incorporate and bumps his forehead with the table.

—Ouchie, love! —you let out and start to rub his temple tenderly.

—Ow! That hurt! —Toto lets you pamper him. Then stays stomach on the bench, making tired noises.

—I don't love my job very much right now —He says, and after a couple of minutes, he starts incorporating, no longer being able to avoid it, dragging along your bomber jacket, stuck and caught on behind his neck, with his hair all wild, and an "I just wake up" face.

—I just saw a photo of kid you with that same hairstyle!

He looks at you with one wonky eye, slowly processing the information.

All you can do is smile at him and softly laugh at the sight; you are so in love with him.

—Gotta get going! —he tells you, gets on his feet, places your jacket at your side, and bends his tall, fit body to kiss you on the cheek, rubbing your shoulders with his hands simultaneously before walking away.

I will not be able to resist greet and saying goodbye to him just with kisses on the cheek any longer.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter

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