#—esteban stop taking all the pieces-

[imthursdaysyme]

I think Itd be funny if Steve accidentally became obsessed with puzzles but won't admit it the same way dads watch shows by standing off to the side. robin has them out and he complains but she finds him 2hrs later still standing doing puzzles and he's like a caught raccoon

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Two

GR, CL, MV, LH x fem!reader Warnings: angsty drivers, more filth (masturbation, smut) WC: 3k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three

“Oh my word, what is going on?” David Croft, the official F1 commentator, was aghast at what he was seeing on the track in front of him and his voice echoed across the paddock from the loudspeakers. “This is looking like a repeat of Australia and nobody wants to see that again.”

You slunk down in your seat and pulled your hat further down your head. Maybe sending those nudes hadn’t been the best idea. It had been four weeks since the last race and to say you were feeling needy was a massive understatement. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from sending your men some enticing pictures before the race.

“And there goes Gasly, into the gravel. We’ll have to see the replay on that but I think it was his own teammate that made contact with him. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was Alpine on Alpine going into the corner and now Gasly will have a lot of time to make up for it. Ocon will be lucky if he doesn’t get a penalty for that aggressive move.”

You looked at the place board and saw the seven drivers who had already retired from the turbulent race. Max was one of them, and he was pissed.

You shoved the phone back in your purse and cheered with the rest of the grandstand as Lewis passed by, holding first position with 12 laps to go. Right on his tail was Charles but the real battle was taking place behind him for the third step on the podium. 

It was a dog fight between Fernando, Esteban and Lando with less than a second separating each car. You screamed louder than anyone else as they shot past the lap line and a few heads turned your way but you ignored them. You weren’t even in bed and these guys were making you scream. 

Another lap passed without incident but then the fight for third took a dangerous turn when Lando pushed Fernando wide and Esteban tried to take advantage by slipping past on the inside. Fernando ended up grazing his car along the wall while Lando thought he was in the clear only to clip the front wing of Esteban’s car and the two of them careened off the track. 

Shock rippled through the crowd as another three cars were retired and their drivers were pulled apart by the marshalls that were trying to clear the track under a red flag. It was messy and you could almost taste the testosterone in the charged atmosphere.

“I don’t even have words to describe this race,” David commented. “That will be the third restart and what a change that makes to the standings. We have Hamilton in P1, Leclerc P2, Stroll P3, followed by Sainz, Russell, Gasly, then miraculously both Williams’ and AlphaTauri’s drivers are almost guaranteed those much needed but elusive points - if they can just stay on the track and cross the finish line in one piece.”

You couldn’t sit and listen to the spectators around you any longer. They all asked variations of the same question - what the hell had happened to the drivers? Blue balls was the answer. That’s what had happened after four weeks with no racing: all those explosive male hormones were building and building, and your nudes had struck the match.

You had been messaging most of the guys over the mid-season break, exchanging scandalous messages and promises of what they could do the next time they were on the podium, but you had stopped short of meeting up with any of them - no matter how much they begged. Your pussy hated you for denying it the pleasure but the waiting only increased the anticipation and made the climax all the better. 

Plus the teasing was fun.

You slipped out of the grandstand and made your way to the motorhomes behind another fence for security. Ever since that first wild night you had received a Paddock Pass for every race and become a familiar face to the teams, though they never knew the extent of your ‘friendships’ with the drivers. 

“Max isn’t here,” Tommy said just as you reached the door to the luxurious motorhome. 

You winked at the Red Bull assistant and pressed a finger to your lips. “I’m just leaving him a commiseration gift. It’s a surprise, so no blabbering.”

The busy man left with a shake of his head and you closed the door behind you, sliding the bolt into place so no unexpected visitors could interrupt you. 

Max’s bed was made with the precision you would expect from someone trained in the military, not a racer, and there wasn’t a single crease in the duvet cover. 

“You’re such a perfectionist,” you muttered before jumping onto the bed and messing it up. His scent still clung to the pillow and you grabbed it as you rolled onto your knees, shoving it between your legs before hiking your dress up to your waist. 

You grabbed your phone and set it up against the headboard as you hit record. “I’m going to miss you tonight, Maxy.” You sucked on your fingers before trailing them down your body and pushing your panties aside. “It could’ve been you I was riding.” 

You moaned as you ground yourself shamelessly over your fingers and his pillow. Your head fell back and you grabbed your throat, gently squeezing it as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Oh, Max,” you cried out, rolling your hips faster until the wet sounds of your pussy filled the air and were definitely picked up by the microphone. “You’re going to dream of me tonight when you lay your head on this pillow. It’s going to make you so hard, you’re going to fuck your hand and imagine it’s my cunt squeezing you tight until you explode.”

Your words ignited the orgasm that had been building and you cried out as you came all over his pillow. Your body shuddered from the aftershocks and you tasted the release on your fingers, knowing it would drive him wild when he saw it. “Sweet dreams, Maxy.”

You made it back to the grandstand in time to see the final lap and you were on your feet screaming with the rest of the crowd as Lewis crossed the finish line first, soon followed by Charles and Carlos. You were giddy at the thought of sharing the three of them later and joined the mass of people as they began to make their way down to the track that was opening to the public.

You were well versed at having to push your way through the crowd and you knew you had time to get to the front since the winners were still on the big screen having their post-race interviews. You were only half listening to them as you inched your way closer to the stage. 

“There was a very competitive atmosphere out there today, why do you think that was?”

Carlos and Charles looked at each other before looking down to hide the knowing grin they shared but it was Lewis that answered the interviewer.

“I mean first and foremost it is a race, so it will always be competitive. But, I think, for me at least, it’s been a long four weeks off the track and we were all eager to get back behind the wheel and more importantly back on the podium.” 

“Speaking of podiums, it looks like our time is up.” He shook hands with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos. “Congratulations once again. Well deserved.”

You reached the front barricade as the guys climbed the stairs to the stage up above and their eyes scanned the crowd knowing you were somewhere among the throngs. Carlos spotted you first and slapped Charles’ chest before pointing your way. You blew them a kiss and gave them a wink, their smiles growing as they stepped closer to the glass balustrade. You crossed your arms and to anyone else it would have been an innocent gesture but from their vantage point it pushed your breasts to the very edge of your low cut dress. 

Your phone vibrated in your purse and since you weren’t all that interested in the national anthems playing you pulled it out. Your scoff was swallowed by the sound of the crowd and you searched the shadows around the cordoned off areas to find Max staring back. Even with the distance you could see the harsh cut of his jaw as he clenched his teeth and his arms were crossed defensively over his chest. 

You didn’t even bother to address the message he had sent, instead you replied with the video you had taken in his bed. You watched with a keen interest as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone. 

Blue eyes turned to black as his pupils dilated and he ran a hand through his hair, tugging the dirty blond strands while he fisted his phone on the other. His thumbs flew across the keyboard as he typed his response before turning his back and leaving the celebration while you started at the reply.

You're going to pay for that.

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot At the body shop, doing something unholy

The heat on the dance floor was quickly soaring as hands roamed your body. Charles’ entire front was pressed against your back and controlled the sway of your hips to the music as his lips grazed your neck and he whispered filthy words for only you to hear. 

He wasn’t alone.

Lewis and Carlos’ bodies encircled you, obscuring your obscene display of affection from the dense crowd dancing to the music too. They were taking advantage of the disorienting strobe lights and the fact everyone else was in a drunken world of their own, it was daring even for them.

Charles pinned your hands behind your back, trapping them between your bodies, as Lewis stepped closer and used his thigh to push your legs apart. Cool air rushed in and kissed the heat of your pussy as your skirt rode up higher the more Lewis nudged your thighs apart.

“Hermosa,” Carlos groaned as he noticed the lack of lace panties beneath. “You forgot something when you were getting ready.”

You licked your lips and leaned back against Charles so your dress pulled up even higher and Lewis cursed lowly. 

“I didn’t forget anything.”

And when you want it, baby, I know I got you covered And when you need it, baby, just jump under the covers

Your cry was swallowed by the chorus as they descended on you. 

Carlos’ fingers were at your entrance, gathering the evidence of your need and using it to glide over your clit while Lewis and Charles left burn marks on your neck from the short beards they sported. Their hands cupped and squeezed and probed until you were lost to the overwhelming sensations and ready to float away like the clouds of dry ice around the room. 

“Unless you’re planning to fuck me on the dance floor, we need to go.”

“The idea has crossed my mind,” Charles admitted between sucking at the sensitive skin below your ear. 

“Time to go,” Lewis ordered before you could reach for his belt buckle, the only one out of the three men capable of using his head to think with and not his dick.

Carlos pouted as he pulled your dress back into place but he knew it would be coming off in a matter of minutes when he got you upstairs. 

The music drifted away as the elevator doors closed in the lobby and Charles pushed you back into Lewis’ arms. “Don’t let her move,” he warned as he dropped to his knees.

Carlos’ hand slapped over your mouth in time to smother the moan that was ready to fill the small elevator when Charles’ tongue teased over your clit. You squirmed as you tried to roll your hips, silently begging for more, but Lewis curled a strong arm around your waist and pinned you to his body. 

The floor levels ticked by and the higher they rose the closer you got to heaven. 

Everywhere you looked you were blessed with the sight of the men around you and their infinite reflections in the mirrored walls. Even when your head fell back in ecstasy you swayed under the image on the ceiling, spying Charles’ eyes that rolled up to look at you coming undone over his tongue.

Ding!

Charles rose swiftly to his feet, pulling your dress back into place before the doors opened and a body filled the doorway. He already knew what had happened from the dazed look in your eyes and the way Lewis had to support your unsteady legs by holding you against him.

“What the fuck, Max?” Carlos asked as he stepped in front of you, Charles too busy wiping his lips to speak.

You wouldn’t say you were shocked to see him somehow get your room number from the receptionist - he was a world champion - no one would say no to him, even if it was a breach of privacy. You actually found his tenacity extremely hot, that and the way he stood blocking the exit with fire in his eyes. 

“Mate, move out of the way,” Lewis said as he shifted you into Charles’ arms, though your legs were no longer trembling.

Max ignored them all and held your stare. “What’s my number, babygirl?”

You shook your head to try and clear the haze that your orgasm and the champagne had brought upon you but it didn’t work and you asked him confused, “What?”

“What. Is. My. Race. Number?” he asked, taking a step closer with each enunciation.

“One?”

“Good girl, that’s correct.” Max smirked as he came to a stop in front of Lewis and looked at you over his shoulder. “I think that means I won.”

“That’s bullshit, you DNF’d get over it,” Charles stated, knowing well enough the pain of missing out on a night with you because he crashed out earlier in the season. 

“Wait,” you said, stepping between the four of them. “What if he’s right? What if the reigning champ can have me whenever they choose, off-track too?” You circled around the group seeing them contemplating it. “After today's race standings you all have a shot at winning the championship.”

“Hang on,” Max interrupted but you held up a finger to your lips to silence him.

“My body, my rules. So, what d’ya say boys?”

Lewis, Carlos and Charles looked at each other for a moment before Lewis’ lips parted in a grin. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Did you not see how fucking messy it was out there today?” Max asked, stunned by the turn of events.

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Carlos chuckled before looking at his team mate. 

“Max is right, it’s going to be an expensive season for repairs,” Charles said with a shake of his head before locking eyes with you and starting to smile, “but it’s not my money. I’m in.”

You walked out of the elevator, patting Max’s hard chest as you passed by. “This is what you wanted, big guy. Now, are you coming, or do you want to brood in the hallway all night?”

It was no surprise that he came, and came, and came again. 

All of the men were athletes and the stamina showed when they were ready to go round after round. You were an overstimulated mess when you collapsed on the sofa, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You could barely think with your head on cloud nine and their cum leaking down your legs.

“Our little cum slut is cock drunk,” Max teased as he took a seat beside you and pulled your head onto his lap. “You have another round in you, don’t you, babygirl?”

The sofa shifted as Carlos sat down at the other end, his strong hands starting to massage your feet. “Let her rest for a minute.”

“Just because you have nothing left,” Max scoffed and turned your head to him. His thumb traced your swollen lips with a smirk before parting your mouth. “Some of us can go all night. Right, Hamilton?”

Lewis barely lifted his head up from where he lay sprawled across the carpet, his chest rising and falling fast as he caught his breath. He had absolutely ruined you with the fast pace he had set while he knelt behind you and fucked you until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Charles had been there to keep you up on your hands and knees with a fist full of your hair, right before he filled your mouth with his cock to silence the screams of pleasure.

All Lewis could do was raise his thumb in response as Charles returned to the living room with an armful of water bottles from the minibar. He tossed one to each of the guys before kneeling beside your head and cracking the lid of another and raising it to your lips. The cool liquid quickly soothed your dry throat and chased away some of the exhaustion that had settled into your relaxed muscles. 

“Better, hermosa?” Carlos asked as his massage crept higher up your legs.

“Mhmm,” you sighed contentedly, letting your knees part for him. The temperature in the room rose rapidly and even Lewis found the strength to rise from the ground to drink in the sight. You might as well have just hung an open for business sign out and you chuckled at the hungry looks they shared. “Much better.”

Click here for part three.

Tagging: @slytherheign @alwaysclassyeagle

[jaeeyaaasworld]

Brother's Best Friend - MS47

Featuring: Mick Schumacher x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an awful date, Mick is really a sweetheart and a desperate mess, a bit smutty at the end to MDNI

Requested: Yes/No

"are you really going on a date with him?"

Esteban, your brother asks you, as you're sitting across from him and his best friend Mick.

"I mean- yeah, why would I not? he seems gentle"

you say, shrugging your shoulders as you placed a piece of tangerine, that Mick peeled for you, in your mouth.

"gentle doesn't mean that he's for sure not a predator"

Esteban remarked, making Mick snort and you sigh.

"come on, Estie. if I don't put myself out there I won't have any friends apart from you two"

you said, taking another piece of tangerine in your mouth as Mick gasped.

"what's wrong with us?"

he asked offended, making you chuckle.

"you have your own group of friends and some of them still treat me like a child, I hate it"

Mick and Esteban exchanged a look and shrugged, getting back to the conversation that they were having before regarding Mick's new motorcycle.

time skip

you should have listened to your brother.

this guy was a freak, within the first few minutes of the date you already wanted to leave and never look back again.

he was talking all about himself and the way he was an amazing guy and how all his exes are still in love with him, his ego obviously too big for his own stature.

as soon as you could you ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and hurriedly taking your phone out to dial Esteban's number.

"come on, pick up pick up"

you whispered under your breath, praying for your brother to pick up quickly.

your brother though, didn't seem to pay much attention to his phone.

so your only hope was one guy: Mick Schumacher.

you pressed his name in your contacts, not really expecting him to pick up any time soon, knowing that probably he was hanging out with some of his friends right now.

but to your surprise, Mick picked up really quickly,

"hey, sweetheart. is something wrong?"

he asks immediately, knowing that you were actually supposed to be on your date, which made him worry a lot more then he himself expected.

the voices in the background of his part of the phone call made you stop; he was really with his friends.

"oh, you're busy right now? o-okay, I can try calling Esteb-"

"no no, tell me, sweetheart. I'm all yours, what do you need?"

he interrupted you, as you heard a door closing from his side of the call.

"alright, you were right, he is a freak. can you come pick me up?"

you asked softly, despising the fact that you were actually saying that he and your brother were right.

"for sure, give me the address of the restaurant and in five minutes I'll be there"

he says, hanging up quickly to get on his helmet and place his spare one on his elbow, speed walking towards his motorcycle in his friend's driveway, while his phone dinged with your message with the address of the restaurant you were in.

while he was getting out of his parking spot, you took in a big breath and got out of the bathroom, knowing that it was just a matter of time since Mick was here to pick you up.

you sat back down on your seat, a fake smile on your face to not make it look like you were trying to run away as quick as possible.

time skip

fifteen minutes have passed since your call with Mick happened and you were waiting for him for arrive any minute.

you really hoped that he didn't make a big scene with the guy because of his public figure and for your own embarrassment.

the guy kept talking about how he got a promotion the other day at work and you kept nodding mindlessly while throwing glances at the restaurant doors.

before he could finish what he was saying a man wearing an helmet and with another helmet in his hand walked in through the restaurant doors, his head going left and right to search for someone through the tables.

you quickly recognized Mick physique and the familiar helmet as he finally found you on the far right table, he pulled up the helmet visor and did a bee line through the tables to get to your table.

he gave you the spare helmet that was in his hand and nodded his head towards the door.

"let's go"

his voice was a bit muffled from the big helmet around his head but you could understand perfectly what he wanted.

you got up to follow him out, but your date got up with you and took your wrist to keep you with him.

"are you gonna go with him? you don't even-"

he couldn't finish his sentence as Mick walked towards him, narrowed eyes only a few inches away from the man's face, making him let go immediately.

Mick didn't even need to say anything to him to make him let go, taking your hand in his and gently guiding you outside of the restaurant and towards his bike.

he placed his spare helmet on your head, pushing it down and closing the strap under the helmet for you.

Mick quickly got on the motorcycle, giving you his hand to help you get on the bike behind him.

as soon as you got on, he turned the bike on and started riding the bike out of the restaurant parking lot and towards his house.

he wasn't gonna leave you alone after another bad date, he knew how you felt guilty everytime something went bad and him or Esteban had to come rescue you from the shitty situation you got yourself in.

he stopped at the red light right before his house, he straighted his back, his arms stretching to reach your exposed legs to rub them up and down.

his hands could feel the goosebumps on your skin from the cold breeze that was hitting your skin on the motorcycle.

what he didn't know was that part of that goosebumps on your skin were caused by his hands on your bare legs, how his fingertips felt on your skin and how his big hand could circle your whole leg easily.

but soon the light turned green, making his hands leave your skin to get back to riding with both his hands.

he parked the motorcycle inside his garage, giving you his hand again to help you get off his bike this time, getting off right after you.

you took off his spare helmet, looking at him apologetically as he got out of his own helmet.

"I'm so sorry"

you start.

"I know, I keep doing this and I probably should just suck it up for one night and let you guys be-"

Mick stopped you before you could get too deep into your thoughs, placing an hand up and making you shut up immediately.

"let's get inside first, then you can say all the bullshit you want"

he said, his harshness almost shocking you, as he gestured for you to walk up the stairs that took you into his house.

you walked up the stairs in front of him, walking into his house and getting into the kitchen to place his spare helmet on one of the stools that circled the island in his kitchen.

he got in and sighed while placing his helmet and his protective jacket on the couch, turning towards you and placing his hands on his hips as soon as he was done throwing his stuff on the couch.

"illuminate me, what were you saying?"

you gulped as he looked at you with that intimidating stare of his that you really hoped you never saw directed at you.

"I was saying... I really should suck it up for one night and let you guys be, I'm sure you were with your friends and I disturbed you and I'm sure Esteban is with his girlfriend and I called him out of the blue and-"

you started overthinking, gesturing around with your hands and stuttering sometimes, but Mick interrupted you.

"you know, Y/n... you're right, I was with my friends. but as soon as I got your call I ditched everyone and ran to you"

he started walking towards you, getting so close that you could feel his breath on your face and the smell of his cologne was as strong as ever.

"you know what that means?"

he asked, caging you with his arms on either side of your waist, both hands resting on the island behind you.

"what does that mean?"

you ask, big eyes staring up at him, he felt like he couldn't resist any longer, he couldn't keep it in himself any longer, he felt like if he didn't touch you in the next five seconds he would die.

but he tried to keep his hands to himself, couldn't risk to get the most precious girl on the planet get uncomfortable because of him.

"that I'm so whipped for you. so whipped that I would leave the most important meeting of my whole career if it meant saving you from a freak and having you safe at home by my side, so whipped that I would ditch any woman on the planet to be with you any second of my life"

he started whispering, his hands finally making contact with your waist, rubbing your waist softly over the cute blouse that you put on for that freak you were going on a date with.

"I knew I was done for the moment you walked into my life with that little smile of yours and those sweet hands that love to rub my shoulders whenever I am sitting on a chair, I wanted to learn everything about you and I finally did it. I know everything you like, everything you dislike. Y/n, I know everything"

Mick continued, his arms getting you up to sit on the island of his kitchen, his body placing between your thighs as his hands placed themselves on the bare skin of your thighs.

"apart from your sexual likings, obviously, but I promise I'm a fast learned. I would do anything you ask me to, destroy anything that annoys you. I would set the world on fire just for you"

he said, one hand rubbing from your thigh to your jaw and the other rubbed over your leg, reaching right before your knee to pull you in towards his body.

"why can't you see it, Y/n? I could be perfect for you"

Mick finished, his lips ghosting on yours, almost touching.

but Mick took your silence as a 'no', as he was preparing himself mentally to put space between you two and probably not feel any of your skin on his anymore.

what he didn't expect was you pulling him in by his collar, smashing your lips with his in an heated kiss.

his hands started roaming your body before he could even think about what was happening and you were already pulling his body as close as possible to yours.

one of your hands was on his chest while the other was in his hair, messing them up so good that he didn't want to fix them ever again, as if he found his favorite hairstyle.

you didn't waste time as you hopped off the kitchen island to slowly push him towards his couch, your lips never leaving one another.

you pushed him to sit on the couch as you pulled your blouse off, leaving you in your skirt and lace bra.

his mouth opened in disbelief, his bulge pretty evident in his jeans.

"I'm so desperate, you can't even imagine"

he whispered, not really to you, but more to himself.

"I can see it, no need to imagine"

you tease, getting closer to him, making his eyebrows furrow as he stared your body down.

"I want to worship you my who-"

he couldn't finish his sentence that his phone started ringing in the pocket of his jeans.

he got his phone out of his pocket and looked at the id, eyes widening slightly as he responded.

"hey, Esteban"

Mick greeted his best friend, trying to not sound like he was about to fuck with his sister.

"hey, have you heard from Y/n? she's at that date and she called me but I was with Flavy and I didn't hear her call"

he started panicking.

you got closer to Mick and got on his lap, your lips finding his neck as he tried to keep his voice steady on the call with your brother.

"uh- yeah, yeah. she's- uh, she's at my house. she's already asleep, she told me she was rea-really tired"

he lied through his teeth as he threw his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"oh- okay. well, I'm coming over tomorrow morning to pick her up-"

Esteban said, but got interrupted by Mick.

"no- I'll... I'll accompany her to your house, it's no problem"

he said, making Esteban frown.

"right... well, okay, have fun kiddos. oh- and make sure you use a condom"

Esteban teased with a chuckle.

"oh, fuck you"

Mick said with a laugh.

"my sister probably will"

Esteban joked, making Mick chuckle and hang up on him.

he turned to you as you looked down at him with a smile.

"where were we?"

Mick asked.

"oh- right, me worshipping you my whole life"

he said, placing his hands on your arms to flip you around on the couch and placing himself between your thighs.

[heliads]

i've got my money on things going badly

Lance Stroll should be delighted to watch his sister get married, but the only heart he's thinking about is his own. The one Fernando Alonso broke.

masterlist

To Lance, weddings are a kind of performance art. He’s gotten somewhat good at them ever since he was younger, when the Strolls were invited to everything. His father would get caught up in knots of expensive men wearing expensive suits, lost in business talks for hours, but Lance could slip away the second someone blinked, go find his sister disguised in a coat closet somewhere and talk about Pokémon or cable TV or something little kids like best. 

Now his sister is the one getting married, and, enfolded into someone else’s party of groomsmen, Lance has absolutely no chance of hiding, excessively large coat closets of the elite be damned. He likes Scotty, really he does, even went to the trouble of presenting him to Chloe as a potential husband in the first place, but ceremonies are always long and Lance, as per usual, is tired of it.

He should be good. He should like this. Weddings are wonderful ceremonies. You can appreciate them for the expensive decorations and myriad artistic decisions that go into them, if not the fact that they’re basically just one extended celebration dedicated to the love of your close friends and family. 

Lance is here for his sister and her future happiness with her recently declared husband. This should be an excellent day, and it has been, along with the rest of the wedding festivities that have been going on for ages, but now that the sun has set and he’s still here, starch-stiff in his dress suit, wishing he could go but knowing he can’t.

It’s not even the wedding’s fault, really, it’s just that Lance can’t stand spending so long thinking about the bliss of someone else’s love when he’s just lost one of his own. His sister is twirling in a white dress, a woman who hasn’t stopped smiling in hours, and Lance is standing in the shadows of this rosy glory with just one name on his mind.

Fernando Alonso.

It’s foolish, what this has done to him. Lance waved goodbye to Seb last year and told himself that he could look forward to another good relationship with another world championship teammate. Fernando would be challenging but rewarding as another Aston Martin driver, or so the motorsport gossip pages had told him.

What no one counted on was just how Fernando would make Lance feel. Not even Lance can do a good job of that, not really. There are no words in English or Spanish or even half-and-half lighthearted Spanglish that can sum up how Lance’s ribs ache like they’ve been bruised from sentences alone. 

He had not meant to love Fernando; hell, he wasn’t even sure he did until the abrupt ending, but now Lance is choking on the words he never got to say and wondering how he’s meant to pick up the pieces of a heart that was only ever Fernando’s to break. Lance was supposed to stay professional, and he didn’t, and now he’s the one suffering for it. So it goes.

It didn’t take much, actually. Four months to fall. One month to break. Now he’s standing alone in the corner of his sister’s wedding, hoping for an escape that doesn’t seem willing to come his way. He’d been stupid, thought he could take too much, but is that really his fault for trying? All his life, he’s been told that he could be anything, do anything, have anything, and now he’s found that limit and it hurts like hell.

It’s not like anyone told him that the meter on Stroll luck and expectation would fall short when it came to one Spanish two time world championship winner. Well, that’s not true. Esteban had tried. Lance had not listened. He cannot even say for sure that he should have, because Lance had been very happy up until the point when he wasn’t.

It almost makes sense that the whole affair was conducted over such a short period of time. Lance is impatient, he likes doing things fast. It’s why he was able to become a Formula One driver. It’s why he set his sights on the man most likely to break his heart and cut the brakes before either of them could back out of it.

And it was just. Fuck. Hands on shoulders on the backs of necks on waists. How Fernando kept whispering in his ear, so close he could feel the other man’s breath hot on his neck, even though/just because it made Lance h— they were on camera the whole time. It didn’t matter. They wanted what they wanted and they got it, too. 

Or, Lance had thought they had got what they wanted, and then he had dared to ask for a label for the unspoken thing he was sure both of them felt, and everything was lost for good. It was the end of the Miami race weekend, and Fernando was drunk on the glory of another podium, happy enough that Lance felt certain that he could have the conversation he wanted without it going sour.

They had been hanging around one of their driver’s rooms– which one, Lance can never tell, they kept swapping door to door until even the labeled placards felt like a joke of hospitality’s courtesy. Sprawled out on a couch, so close that Lance couldn’t stop staring at how their legs kept touching whenever he breathed too hard, he’d felt absolutely crazy with the knowledge that this was his.

Too much of a good thing can make you foolish, convince you that things will be that good forever. Lance had laughed to himself, then turned to Fernando with a grin. “We’ll still be like this next season, right?”

Fernando had given him this look as if he were being intentionally difficult. “Yes, Lance. My contract will not expire for another season. I will be on the grid.”

Lance had shaken his head. “No, duh, I mean like, hanging out like we are now. You know, like us.” 

Lance doubts he could have packed more meaning into that one syllable if he tried. He’s heard Fernando refer to the unbreakable us before too many times to count, like when they’re coming back from a bar late and Fernando, eyes dark and heavy, promised him they’d have fun like that again, just us. Or, scoffing at the other driver lineups– they’re not us, you know. They don’t get along as well. One hand on Lance’s shoulder, fingers digging into muscle, the others could never get along as well.

Fernando had cocked his head to the side, curious. “What do you mean? We’re teammates.”

Lance had rolled his eyes. “Yeah, obviously, but like, there’s more. You know that.”

The space between them went silent. He should have taken that as his first warning sign if nothing else. Fernando had cleared his throat carefully and said, “What else would there be?”

Lance can still imagine the cold feeling that had descended upon him, spreading from the back of his throat like ink. What else would there be? It was impossible that he could have misread every single signal, every touch, every unspoken word. Unless, of course, the hidden meaning he dedicated so much time to channeling had never been there at all.

Lance had waved his hand vaguely. “But we were– you know, we did. Things.”

Fernando’s expression was impossible to read. “Did we?”

It was condescending and pitying and Lance hated it, all of it. He felt like a boy again, small enough to watch his voice disappear into the stillness of an uncaring room. He’d shot up from the couch, pushing out the door and away before anything else could happen. If anything had happened at all, or if it would, that is. Apparently, Lance has made a habit of picturing things that didn’t fucking exist.

Now he’s left spiraling like he survived a bad breakup, but you can’t have a breakup if there was never so much as a spark in the first place. It’s impossible that Fernando could have missed it all. Impossible, that Lance could have simply invented it. He knows what he felt, he knows what Fernando did, but none of it was worthy of a single word of acknowledgement from the other half of two seemingly perfect parts.

He wants to scream and throw up and put his phone down for longer than ten minutes at a time. There are many, many things that Lance had wanted to tell Fernando, and it’s only now starting to occur to him that he’ll never get the chance. I wanted to transform. For you. I wanted to be good. You made me want to be better. 

It’s foolish for him to be thinking of things like this. Lance is a young man. He’s got time for his heart to grow up and even out. Maybe in a decade or less, he’ll meet some perfectly nice young woman, someone his father would approve of, someone with country club connections that won’t rival his own (who can) but could at least keep up with the game. They’d have a manicured front lawn and two docile children, including a son to keep up the Stroll legacy. It would be normal, it would not break his heart like this. It would be very dependable.

Lance doesn’t want dependable, though, he knows it as he thinks it. He wants wild, unpredictable, insane things like falling in love with your teammate and letting him convince you that he’d settle down for you. Lance wants to be the reason someone so used to choosing themselves chooses you instead. He wants Fernando, and he wants no one else.

This is a difficult thing to think about at a wedding. Across the crowded event hall, he can see his sister, happy and secure in the knowledge that her husband is hers, legally and emotionally. There are scores of couples smiling up at each other, content that their love is theirs and no one else’s. 

Lance stands alone, tapping his foot to the beat so he doesn’t look like a complete loser. Every time someone looks over at him, he wants to shout that he’s fine, actually, this is fine, he doesn’t need someone the way that everyone else seems to, but they glance away again before he can properly vocalize this.

The DJ spins another song, the beat drops and the dance floor shakes appropriately from a hundred stomping feet, and just when Lance is certain that he wants to give up and really tries in earnest to look for somewhere to go, the crowd parts and Lance sees him.

Fernando. Here. Impossible. Yet that’s still a glint of hickory eyes he’d know anywhere, even distorted by swimming shades of party lights. Lance feels physically immobile as the man who cannot possibly be his teammate skirts couples and friend groups, and then they’re standing in front of each other and even though this cannot be, it is, and this is the first time Lance has seen him since the argument.

Lance stares at Fernando, jaw dropped comically. He has the harebrained thought that he’s glad the only camera nearby is the one in the hands of Chloe’s Vogue-ordered photographer; if this was the paddock, he’d probably end up as yet another stupid reaction image, giffed into oblivion until not even Lance can recognize his face when he sees it again.

If this was the paddock, seeing Fernando wouldn’t be such a surprise. If this was the paddock, Lance would not feel the absurd urge to run, because Fernando would already be gone, separated by an impenetrable wall of PR officers and personal trainers and anyone else he could shove in between the two of them.

Instead, they’re in one of the rare quiet patches in the wedding reception hall, and Lance is watching Fernando watch him, and slowly, deliberately, Lance forces his mouth to shut enough to ask, “How did you get in here?”

Fernando chuckles, teeth flashing in the uneven lighting of the dark hall. Lance has taken to ranking his teammate’s grins on a sliding scale from closed lips to a shark’s predatory display. This one is somewhere in the middle, hovering between quiet and pleased. Maybe even real. 

“I bribed Daniel to get me past the door,” he says.

Lance casts an outraged look across the dancefloor until he catches the Australian attempting to foxtrot with Scotty. They should both be at least passable at it, but both men keep trying to lead, then follow, then lead again, endless cycles of not-quite-right. 

Daniel somehow feels Lance looking– twitchy, isn’t he, has been all day– catches sight of Fernando standing in front of him, and grins apologetically. Bastard. If Lance gets him for grid Secret Santa, if Daniel manages to make it back onto the grid before December, he’ll have to actually try this time. Lance might owe him big for this.

The DJ starts a new number, cueing flashing lights that cascade from the blinding storm on the dance floor to faint rays out here where the two of them linger in the shadows, occasional flashlight beams sent out to catch them.

Lance swallows hard, watches the LEDs dye Fernando’s hair with undertones of Renault yellow, Ferrari red, Aston Martin green. If he were in the mood to be honest, Lance would admit that he’s been looking at Fernando for a while, actually. Not just since Fernando joined his team, before that, too. Long before they were teammates, when Lance first started racing in Formula One and he was eighteen and Fernando was thirty-five, a fact that makes him shiver down to his toes every time he thinks of it, which is– more often than it should be, for certain.

Now that the issue has been solved of how Fernando managed to get past the security guards Chloe swore were unnecessary and Lawrence swore he wouldn’t hire, plus the overeager wedding planners and racing fans stuck outside the gates with iPhone cameras, Lance pivots to a new question, one far more important.

“Why are you here?” Lance asks cautiously. 

He knows what he wants to hear, of course, but he can’t let himself get his hopes up just for them to be dashed yet again. This is not his wedding, of course. Fernando could be here to corner some Aston Martin engineers or strategists if they won’t return his midnight calls. He could even be here for Danny, which would explain why the Australian went to the trouble of letting him in, and he’s just stopping by Lance because he got caught while trying to get drinks. 

That thought makes Lance’s stomach twist in angry knots, and he’s only calmed from saying or doing something rash by Fernando’s following words, quiet in the dark but full of a lasting power.

“For you, Lance,” he says, “I came for you.”

God. Lance has spent the whole day witnessing lavish displays of affection, but for some reason it is seven simple words that makes him come undone. He stands there, stock still, and Fernando asks hesitantly, “Is that okay?”

It reminds Lance of how it had been before everything went south, when they were both dancing around a truth both ugly and glorious, that teammates do not stare like they did, that coworkers should not use getting drunk at an Aston Martin post-race celebration party as an excuse to keep their hands on each other, that Fernando didn’t keep interrupting Lance’s interviews to place his hands on Lance’s shoulders and whisper in his ear that he was Fernando’s hero just to get Lance to react like he always did. Not something he was supposed to do on camera, but neither of them could stop.

It is like the very beginning. Fernando, infiltrating Lance’s garage to lean down over the edge of the halo of Lance’s test drive and grip his gloved hands. How’s the car? Fernando, stopping by Lance’s driver’s room to hug him around the shoulders, cold and damp from the champagne that was still soaked through his race suit. I saw you out there. It was good, no? We are good? Fernando, with his hand on Lance’s leg when they’re supposed to be paying attention in a dry and stilted meeting with no one’s eyes on them for once. Can I? Is it alright? 

Lance never said no. Even when his breath caught in his throat. Even when he knew he was just sinking further into a pit he would never be able to escape. The falling was the best part, anyway.

“Fine,” he says at last, “Dance with me, then. If you want to talk, we dance. I’m sick of being a wallflower anyway.”

He raises an eyebrow impetuously, daring Fernando to make the next move. If Fernando’s actually serious about being here for Lance, he won’t mind this. He won’t mind the chance that someone could see them together and start to speculate. If Lance is anything other than a backroom missed connection, they should be able to dance without worrying.

Fernando nods once, accepting his challenge. He places one hand on Lance’s waist, the other on his waiting hand. His grip is strong, but not agonizing. Just a reminder that Lance will not be able to leave easily, not unless Fernando is satisfied that the situation has been handled as he planned.

Here, locked in the vise of another man’s arms, Lance thinks about how deeply he’s let himself get enthralled in Fernando’s way of doing things. He likes pretending that he’s the one in control, that Fernando is here to win him over, but the second Fernando’s hands are on him, Lance cedes that last bit of power over to him. Fernando does it easily, like a habit. It probably is.

Esteban warned him about this, after all, how easy it is to get sucked in. Lance, however, does not mind Fernando’s trap in the slightest. The rabbit must learn to love the snare. The bird likes its cage when the gilded bars keep it safe. 

“I was thinking,” Fernando begins.

“Always a good start,” Lance quips.

The hand on Lance’s waist tightens momentarily, a warning. Lance kind of wants to mouth off some more to see what the resulting action would be.

“I was thinking,” Fernando repeats, “that I may have gotten something wrong. I did not want to rush you, Lance. We have a lot of time. Being hasty can cost you.”

Unwillingly, Lance’s mind flashes to driver’s meetings, planning sessions with his engineer. Being a driver is knowing the difference between when to push and when to plan. Fernando  may have spent a lot of time guarding his pace, but Lance gets the feeling he’s finally ready to go for the trophy, the fastest lap. To sprint and never look back.

“I don’t want you as just a teammate,” Fernando continues. “I had not realized you thought we were past that. It would have sped things along, I think, if I had.”

“I thought we had plenty of time,” Lance comments.

“We do,” Fernando says smoothly. “But that does not mean I want to push this off any more if I don’t have to.”

“This?” Lance asks, feeling like he’s parodying that fateful conversation from so long ago, “And what’s this?”

Fernando meets his gaze coolly, calmly, and then he smiles and changes everything. Night brown eyes go caramel. “We have something better than anyone else, Lance. I do not want to lose it.”

There’s a sharp, triumphant streak in those words. Fernando Alonso has always been on a different level from everyone else. Hearing that he considers Lance on that distinct pedestal as well– it makes Lance lean into his touch a little more, and the last of his guard drops away.

“Why’d you tell me differently earlier, then?” He can’t help but ask. “You could have said you wanted me then.”

Fernando sighs, looks away. “I didn’t know I wanted it then. I didn’t count on how it would feel to lose you. I know now. I don’t want to feel it again.”

Across the room, they’re starting to cheer and shout from the center of the dance floor. It takes Lance a few moments to realize that the applause isn’t for the two of them but for the newlyweds, Chloe and Scotty, who are leading the group in an exuberant rendition of I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Lance thinks that it wouldn’t be entirely unfounded for the cheering to be for him, though. He feels like celebrating now.

And, when he looks back, Fernando’s lips are on his. Lance stumbles a little, and Fernando’s hand slides up his spine to catch him before he loses balance. It’s easy. It’s victorious. Lance never wants to let him go.

Fernando’s breath is hot against his throat, sending Lance into a feverish spiral. “I’ll see you in Monaco,” he whispers, and then he’s pulling away.

Lance watches him leave, but for once, it’s not a sad feeling. Instead, the emotion currently crashing through Lance’s bones is more one of anticipation. This is not the end, just the beginning. Fernando turns once, smiling at him before disappearing in a crush of people. Lance’s chest feels cold where Fernando’s hands had once been, but his heart’s racing enough to make up for the lost heat.

A voice by his shoulder; his sister, who has somehow fought her way through the crowd of well-wishers to find him. “Was that your teammate?” She asks, frowning.

Lance gazes softly at the place that had once been his. “Yeah, it was.”

Chloe tilts her head to the side with a frown, considering this. “Is something going on there?”

“Yes,” Lance answers her. Chloe looks like she wants far more of a response than just that, but Lance just laughs and helps her back to the dance floor. He will have plenty more days to explain it to her. After all, Fernando was right. They do have plenty of time.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[salutethesargeant]

A Mess It Grows - LS18, OP81

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Oscar Piastri (Maplescotch)

Summary: Following Lando's win at Miami, an insecure Oscar heads to his hotel room to regress. One of his boyfriends follows suit to comfort him the only way they know how.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, kink themes (petplay/animal play), sfw intimacy, hurt/comfort, mentions of polyamory, use of pet names

A/N: Crosspost of my fic from my ao3 (inlovingmemory) and also my first fic here. Maplescotch is such an underrated ship and one of the few I would actually die for. (Mainly bc I'm a sucker for ships only I care about) Enjoy.

The checkered flag waved as crowds clad in orange and black began their frantic frenzy. 8 seconds ahead of the 3-times World Champion, for several laps. The rows upon rows of fans under the Florida sun were livid at the sight. Could it really be? A car the color of papaya-orange crossed the finish line for the first time since 2021. But an Australian wasn't the winner. Not this time.

No, that Australian was at Toro Rosso now. AlphaTauri. RB. Whatever they were called, it wasn't Red Bull or McLaren. He was stuck situated behind a Sauber and would likely be his same, bitter, old self after the race.

Yet, there was one Australian today who got the shorter end of that stick. One younger, yet dressed in the same ol' familiar orange and black. Bright, exhausting orange like his car. The one cameras paid no focus on: Oscar Piastri. Driver for McLaren, Alpine survivor, and 2 seasons into F1. Drove his car off for podium place until Carlos collided his Ferrari into the papaya boy. 

Front wing damage. No penalty. Late leaving the pit stop from repairs. Forcibly having to settle for 13th place with no points. Losing his place late in the race while Lando was having the time of his life.

Oh yes, Lando. Lando Norris.

There's not much the Aussie could say about the Brit. They were teammates, they were competitors. Nothing more, nothing less than that. They got along, admittedly, only because Oscar knew they had to.

Being at Alpine years ago, he witnessed the opposite firsthand. His long-term boyfriend, Esteban Ocon, had been the subject of several cutthroat backtalk and altercations involving fellow Frenchman Pierre Gasly. Sly remarks full of snark and internal gossip with mean looks, or full on fights in private. It would get nasty, almost catfight-ish. All Oscar could do was sit back and watch like a child of divorce, until he'd have to later comfort and ice Ocon's bruises.

The Aussie knew any teammate relationship could turn sour like theirs at any time. No matter how long or how deep their bond went, a budding rose always came to grow thorns. He's seen the contempt boil and bubble, masked behind the Frenchmens' PR-fueled, artificial smiles for social media. Pierre's faux-friendliness on and off-camera had targeted him too, coming from someone who desperately wanted to lure the young driver in despite knowing Esteban's warnings. Even the most enticing of snakes prepped their fangs.

But Lando wasn't like that.

Atleast, that's what Oscar hoped. Since switching his colors from Alpine's sugary, teeth-rotting, cotton candy-esque light blue and pink to a more vivid orange, the relationship between the two Anglophones had since been short of amiable. Sure, maybe they weren't constantly at eachother's throats - and maybe Oscar should've been grateful for that - but they weren't the best of friends either. Or friends at all. An air of stillness had settled between them since they first met in the same garage over a year ago, growing like a thick fog. 

McLaren and F1's social media could paint the papaya pair like two peas in an overwhelmingly positive pod as much as they wanted, but all it did was make them look good. Good. Marketable. Two young drivers ready to take on the whole grid, overwhelmingly clad in black and orange. A World Champion-in-the-making and a former rookie who seemingly locked together like two puzzle pieces. Landoscar, the fans called it. Soulmates, everyone viewed it.

If it were that easy, maybe Oscar would already be attached to the hip of the Brit. Maybe Lando - for how much he flaunted his shamelessly hedonistic lifestyle as if it were his sole personality trait and thought inside that hollow head of his - would atleast make the effort to include and invite him to stuff once in a while. It's not like Oscar was begging to go to his teammate's pretentious parties across Europe, full of high-class randoms several leagues above him. Full of people he didn't know nor could care less about him or his relationships. Instead, Oscar usually kept quiet, only bothering to smile and make small talk when McLaren needed them to. Even when the cameras weren't rolling, it was never like he asked the Brit time and time again to be besties, although sometimes he wish he did. 

Lando wouldn't have to pretend to reach out to him after their social media shoots, pretending to be interested in him and his life. The Aussie knew deep down his teammate, for how dull he proudly was, was playing the same games he was, tricking the media and inadvertently, Oscar aswell. People already thought they were the "bestest" of teammates compared to the other, far more infamous pairs on the grid. The thought made Oscar shiver.

Even his boyfriends, despite the bias against them, were never the subject of tabloids as much as the Brit was. If anything, his two lovers being disliked helped keep their relationship out of the spotlight - yet it only made the vipers of paparazzi focus solely on Lando and Oscar. Labeled as 'friends', an 'ideal couple,' despite the younger man already having special people (who were also on the grid) in his life. But God help him for actually thinking journalists payed attention to what was true.

Maybe he wouldn't be constantly compared to Lando - more than he already was - if they actually were good friends like the news said. Oscar was just a former rookie in the eyes of his team and the media, but Lando was a proven, soon-to-be World Champion. Every step he took, praise followed like a trail of gold. His own red carpet. Even the cameras were too bright, Oscar was almost blinded despite how far he was shoved out their view.

In regards to the times where he, or perhaps where McLaren allowed him to, shone, he was restricted to playing 2nd. Times where he could've helped the team gain points were never considered when they focused on his tanner teammate to earn another podium. Oscar would have to stick towards the back end of the race, feeling too insecure to look at his manager in the eye in the garage. A disgustingly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd grown familiar with. And as he predicted, this strategy (or lack thereof) happened again today.

Except Lando was a race winner now.

-

The heat of the Miami sun rested upon Oscar's back as he begrudgingly exited the cockpit, his fireproofs and suit on fire as he ripped off his helmet. What a horrible race that was, just his luck to go from top 4 to being the loser in a challenge with Carlos. The Spaniard seemed to collide with him, giving him damage to his front wing as he'd end up losing his place. Sure, he was able to get back in the race and set the fastest lap so he'd gain something out of it, even if it was to just end up behind an Alpine and out of points territory. But it didn't really mean anything when he had his race ruined and McLaren couldn't care less about him. 

From where he currently was in the garage, God Save The King blared in the distance, like a thought he couldn't truly escape. If he were a little more patriotic, he'd find it nauseating. But even if he wasn't, it still was. Everywhere he went, it seemed to remind him that he'd never be good enough. He'd never be like him in their eyes, only a liability. Feeling sick again, Oscar ran and tried finding the nearest bathroom, far from the McLaren garage. Far from the podium. He couldn't bear to deal with the strategists and members of the team crowding his way right now. 

It was his day. Lando's day. It always was.

Stood proud on the podium were the same three that usually stood there: a McLaren, a Red Bull, and a Ferrari. A Brit, a Dutchman. and a Monegasque. The sun's golden glare made them looked blessed, like a trio of angels. Oscar couldn't bother to look from behind his back, ignoring the barrage and sea of voices and lights blinding and deafening him if he did. But they weren't for him, not all of them. It didn't matter. The spotlight was focused on something - rather, someone - else, and he needed to leave. Fast and unbothered. His hotel couldn't have been that far from the track, especially when he was sure some of the other drivers were headed their way there also after the race ended. 

Especially the two he knew, who he shared a room with. Who he always shared hotel rooms with, discretely under the guise of being a "group of best friends." Whatever people thought, Oscar needed them. Particularly in this moment, when his head began to feel too heavy for him to support himself. When he needed to be away from the masses and fall into a special sort of headspace only they knew about, behind closed doors. Those special, intimate moments. 

After having to do some careful finding in the garage and stripping of his fireproofs, Oscar grabbed his phone and immediately went to his contacts. He's changed enough out of his race suit and back to regular McLaren merch that he could sneak back out to the paddock. In such a fast amount of time too, seeing how the rest of the papaya crew was still too focused on throwing Lando around. Then again, Oscar was rushing in a hurry and practically gone ghost once he situated his cap.

Most of the drivers on the grid stayed at the same hotel for certain races, their team executives booking them months in advance. They were never usually that far from the track or paddock either, for the teams convienence. Such was the case for Miami, where Oscar currently padded open the resort's luxerious doors in an urgent manner. Did McLaren need him right now? Probably, if Lando's win got boring to rub in. Would Oscar head back to attend? Nope.

As the Aussie went to dial the number labelled, "Lancey," in a strike of coincidence, life decided to serve itself to him for once. Meeting eye to eye with the Canadian again off track, the taller male's expression went from one of surprise to worry. The concern seemed to rub off the younger man, as evident by how Lance was able to pick up on it quickly.

"Osc, what are ya' doing here? Shouldn't you be at McLaren's garage?"

Nothing. No response. All he received was a big, brown-eyed stare from his dark brown eyes into his. Lance's worry seemed to grow tenfold at his boyfriend's out-of-character silence. Something must've been really wrong, his race must've gone pretty bad. Lance knew his wasn't great either, but Oscar handled his more deeply.

The Canadian looked down with his own dark eyes, reflecting a vulnerable Oscar in them like a mirror. His voice almost cracked, bringing a hand to grip his tightly as he pulled them towards the elevator. Oscar wasn't even aware that the button for their floor was clicked, and soon they were off.

"I'll- I'll need to phone Esteban as soon as possible, tell him he needs to come back immediately. He's—" Lance's voice trembled, as if he had something stuck in his throat. This ride was taking too long, goosebumps forming on skin from pure nervousness.

Seemingly noticing, Oscar rubbed his head of fluffy peanut-brown hair against his side. He looked up into the eyes of his boyfriend, and felt the Canadian's nerves rapidly calm down. Realizing what kind of care Oscar needed now, the taller man spoke again, this time much more clearly.

"Esteban, right. Este is uhm, busy with Fernando right now. He'll be back soon, hopefully with some food. But I might need him to come quicker, especially since you're going into err—" Oscar pawed at Lance's sweater, cutting his train of thought off again. Feeling concerned yet a little more relaxed now, he laughed. Their elevator had reached their floor. Lance heard Oscar whine a little at how hard he gripped the Aussie's hand while walking over to their room door.

"Pupspace." A smile bright as the morning sun spread on his features. Oscar's followed as he laid put on the velvet floor, restlessly pawing at his feet.

He would've preferred if he had brought a leash to Aston Martin's garage, or perhaps if Esteban did to Alpine's. It would've made his job a lot easier, yet it's not like he could've predicted Oscar would regress this soon. Or this severe. Or Nando potentially finding it on accident. That would've been one hell of an embarrassing talk.

After some fumbling with the lock of the hotel door and Lance's strangely large quantity of keys, the door finally let loose. The Montrealer squatted down near the Australian, exchanging a gentle glance and offering his hand to help him back up to his feet, although only to walk him inside. Oscar's weight felt like a bag of thick rice, needing all of Lance's support to be carried inside as if he couldn't use his legs anymore. Granted, that was because he couldn't. He wasn't "grown" enough to do so currently. 

The lights of their hotel room were turned down low, a nice warm orange coating everything. Enough time had passed that the Miami sun had begun to set, its luminous colors bleeding through the large glass windows and fine curtains as it dipped into the horizon. The sight almost made Lance sleepy, almost falling into a drowsy state before realizing he was carrying someone much sleepier already.

Setting Oscar aside on the nearest couch, he kept his head up as the Aussie looked at him with pleading eyes. Wanting warmth and attention now that they were behind closed doors, he whined again, in a higher pitch than last time. Lance couldn't help but chuckle, hands on his hips as he returned some sass.

"Alright alrighty, Butterscotch. I'm trying to be fast for ya, but you're asking quite a lot!" The mahogany of the Canadian's lively eyes reflected back onto Oscar's, who couldn't help his cheeks grow pink like bushes of roses. The younger man watched from his place, sat on the couch, as Lance looked around their temporary living space for a few moments. Almost urgently so.

When finished, he had a familiar leather collar wrapped in his hands. Oscar's eyes went wide at the sight. Unable to keep his excitement down, he reached his thin paws out in a 'grabby' motion and yelped. Yip yapping away. Another laugh escaped Lance, who rested a rough hand on Oscar's shoulder. "Who knew Esteban and I had such a needy, impatient puppy..."

"But I shouldn't mock you this much, especially when ya need this more than me right now." Despite his outward manner and physique compared to the Aussie, the Quebecker's hands were quite gentle as he began wrapping the accessory around his partner's neck. Oscar, of course, stayed still and soaked in the attention like a sponge. Feeling the black and orange-accented leather lock into place and hearing his name tag (which simply read: "OP31, replies to 'Oscar' or 'Butterscotch.' If found, return to Stroll or Ocon.") jingle, he finally relaxed. The bad thoughts from earlier were beginning to drain out.

Not bothering to change either of them out of their team merch, Lance pulled his pet into his grip with one arm. Oscar fell immediately into his chest, pawing at it before circling around to settle himself down more comfortably. Lance gazed down, petting the fluffy caramel-brown hair between his fingers as he pressed a kiss on the Australian's nose bridge.

"You're a good boy, Osc. A good pup." Lance paused, looking away from the chocolately love in Oscar's eyes to his own fingers. Fidgeting and flicking them around, he felt a certain paw mess with it. Lance felt a familiar pair of eyes look back up at him again.

"I'm just— sorry. Sorry for you. I just feel bad that, well, ya know. Lando, Carlos, or whoever, ruined your race today."

A high pitched whimper followed in agreement as the younger man laid his head against the chest of Canadian, opting to lay against the armrest as he waited for their other partner to come home. Oscar took in his partner's scent as he laid on his side, curled up in his arms. Faintly smelling like maple with hints of pecan pie. A cold Autumn breeze over the warmth of a thick cotton scarf.

"It wasn't your fault. I know your mind will tell you otherwise, but I won't. I know, I know..."

Oscar was more than upset about the earlier drama and results, but wouldn't be lying if he admitted that he couldn't care anymore. Fortunately fleeting away, then gone in the wind. Was almost like a near memory that he since brushed off once returning home.

Home where he could unwind, where he could be his true self. Where he could no longer worry about the race or any sort of grid drama. A home where he could be with physically, no matter where he went. Melbourne, Suzuka, Shanghai, Miami...

He was safe at home. Safe, secure, and warm. Home meant comfort, but it also meant security. Private, yet seeked fun. Home never judged him for letting his walls down, or anything else really. Home made him feel seen. Feel loved. Acknowledged.

Lance was home, Oscar's home. Nothing could change that. Nothing would. He wore dark green, but loving him was red.

And so were both of their cheeks currently, mutually flushed as they pressed against eachother. Lance wasn't sleeping, no, but he was surely entertaining himself as he watched Oscar try not to. Yet a peck to the cheek helped his senses kick in, as he giggled and licked at the Montrealer's face.

Smiles were exchanged once more, Lance couldn't help but keep playing with the silk of Oscar's hair. The younger man melted to the touch, rubbing against him in an attempt for more petting. His collar seemed to be a bit too tight for his skin, causing a noticeable red mark around his neck. He had his hands available, but seemed to prefer Lance's help.

"I just wish they came to some sense, ya know? Carlos, I mean. I— I don't understand him."

The Quebecker stood up, causing the reaction of his little spoon to do the same. Oscar fell to the floor. Knobby knees against the velvet carpet as he stayed on his fours. Lance stood to stretch, leaning down to pet the Aussie as he walked towards his temporary water bowl. Tapping the side twice, Oscar skittered across obediently. Lance's train of thought continued again as he leaned against the wall, watching Oscar lap up his water.

"There's always gonna be those types of people on the grid, the ones that want you gone. I've been through it, so has Esteban. Even Lewis." 

Oscar stayed put on the floor, sitting crissed-cross with his two front hands infront. Water ran from his face down his chin. A noticeable stain now soaking the collar of his papaya-orange polo. He turned his head to the side at Lance's words, whining an octave louder. Brown eyes staring.

"I know what it's like to constantly be compared to your teammate too. You— You have to survive with it in this sport, unfortunately."

Lance adjusted his posture, squatting on the floor before standing up on his knees. Unlike Oscar, he wobbled, only stabilizing himself with a hand behind him on the floor. He pat at his thigh, whistling as he locked eye contact with the Australian, before bringing him in a tight embrace.

"You don't deserve any of this, Butterscotch. None of this. I'm sorry."

The Canadian's grip seemed to fasten against Oscar's skinnier body like a death grip. As if he didn't want to let him go, or let him breathe. Oscar rested his head the broad of Lance's shoulder, hands splayed on his lover's back. He didn't know where else to leave them.

He felt Lance's hands curl into the caramel of his hair, like milkweed silk between his rough fingers. Oscar closed his eyes, huffing before shaking slightly. His breath stuttering as his chest heaved, feeling like the weight of several stones. Was he crying? He can't remember the last time he did that, especially over a race. Over Lando. Over Carlos. Over everything and anything. Lance hugged him tightly, shushing him as he felt cold tears stain his sweater.

A nearby phone on the coffee table began to ring. Lance's phone. Must've been Esteban. 

They let it play, ignoring the ringtone repeating before it eventually ended. They didn't need to move for the world, to wait for others. All Lance needed to do was pay attention to his puppy. His pet. His lover. His Oscie. 

It was his night. Oscar's night. It always was.

Atleast to Lance. Esteban too, but only one of them was present. That's all that mattered. Oscar had people that cared, spotlight or not. Race winner or not. Unruined race or not.

Before he knew it, the Australian felt lightheaded. And light. His sopping eyes opened once again as streams littered his face, his blurry vision turning around to notice he wasn't on the floor anymore. Lance was carrying him in his arms, bridal style now. It made Oscar feel small. Vulnerable. Safe. Too deep into headspace and his own insecurities to feel anything but like a puppy. 

Looking up, the younger man was met with dark brown eyes meeting his gaze. The Canadian nodded, allowing Oscar to use his sweater to wipe his tears. He pressed a kiss to the bridge of Oscar's nose again, before laying him in the marble of their hotel room's bathtub. His soft yet coarse hands made quick work of the leather collar around the Aussie's neck, rubbing the slight red it left behind. 

Mercy coated Lance's eyes, as he sighed yet still gave a gentle smile. His cheeks lightly budding pink like a bush of hibiscuses. Oscar turned his nose up, smiling back in a toothy grin that went up the corners of his face. Face redder than salmon roe. Lance gripped his delicate hands, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. His skin was soft like the rest of him, yet he smelled his strongest here. Like oranges and vanilla. 

Lance leaned against the tub, slowly taking off each of his dear's garments. Maybe Oscar had his hands available, but he was too deep into headspace to speak — let alone strip himself. The toffee of his eyes stayed locked onto the Quebecker, purring as he went limp. Even if Oscar could take care of himself, Lance knew he needed him now. And now was all that mattered.

At the final piece of clothing, Oscar's boxers, Lance paused. His hands moved up the pale of the Australian's body to cup his cheeks, moving his thumbs against them in a soothing motion. Lance looked down at him, gentle, serene. Oscar let him do anything, and he was glad he trusted him that much. Like a puppy to its owner. A vulnerable animal to its caretaker. He pressed one final kiss to his soft, pink lips. He tasted like sorbet, Lance's favorite.

They locked eyes once more before Lance's train of thought continued. His faint voice finding itself again.

"Let's— Let's get you cleaned up, Scotchie."

[blue1amory]

FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

Request anytime and I will write it as soon as possible.

11 stories coming soon

1 story in process

6 stories completed

Navigation

Alex Albon

It had to be me || coming soon

↳ the Thailands mafia king had to kidnap you after you see something you shouldn’t have.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Dangerous territory || coming soon (+ Charles Leclerc)

↳ being the wife of the mafia of Monaco you never expected to fall in love either the mafia of Spain.

Charles Leclerc

Dangerous territory || coming soon (+ Carlos Sainz Jr. )

↳ being the wife of the mafia of Monaco you never expected to fall in love either the mafia of Spain.

A farewell amidst tears and angels

↳ This poetic piece, captures the poignant moment when a loved one faces the inevitability of parting, expressing a heartfelt wish for the survivor to find solace and happiness in the wake of their departure.

Daniel Ricciardo

On your deck || coming soon

↳ hiding on his ship maybe your greatest mistake

Esteban Ocon

↳ nothing yet

Fernando Alonso

↳ nothing yet

George Russell

↳ nothing yet

Kevin Magnussen

↳ nothing yet

Kimi Räikkönen

I want to be with you both || coming soon (+ Sebastian Vettel)

↳ being the daughter of Micheal Schumacher is hard but falling in love with the persons that had raced against him is even harder.

Think I need someone older

↳ you fell in love with Kimi and you ain’t afraid to let the entire world know with your new song

Lance Stroll

↳ nothing yet

Lando Norris

Is this really you || coming soon

↳ in which he only dated you because his friends made a bet with him

Not what I thought would happen || coming soon

↳ He, with love entire, cherished her—the brilliance in her eyes when joy doth alight, and the coy retreat behind his form when strangers approach, 'til comfort grants her ease. Ne'er did he envision a world set 'gainst their union.

Lewis Hamilton

One kiss is all it takes || coming soon

↳ you are the daughter of Toto Wolff. But because you could see your crush everyday. You decided to play with him

Logan Sargeant

↳ nothing yet

Max Verstappen

One picture to much || coming soon (+ Oscar Piastri) (part 1)

↳ paparazzi outed your poly relationship out to the world. You three deal with it your own way

Drive (part 2) || coming soon (+ Oscar Piastri)

↳ after all the drama you three continue your life without hiding your relationship

Mick Schumacher

A love unfettered

↳ poetry with the Mick Schumacher as main character

Nico Hulkenberg

↳ nothing yet

Oscar Piastri

you are the soul that fits into mine

↳ The fans call you the “it” couple, and you have 3 moment where you fell even more in love.

One picture to much || coming soon (+ Max Verstappen) (part 1)

↳ paparazzi outed your poly relationship out to the world. You three deal with it your own way

Drive (part 2) || coming soon (+ Max Verstappen)

↳ after all the drama you three continue your life without hiding your relationship

Pierre Gasly

Sweet nights || coming soon

↳ you never had a relax day, so Pierre had an idea

Sebastian Vettel

Hate that I love you! || coming soon

↳ You had to fall in love with your father’s rival

I want to be with you both || coming soon (+ Kimi Räikkönen)

↳ being the daughter of Micheal Schumacher is hard but falling in love with the persons that had raced against him is even harder.

Sergio Perez

↳ nothing yet

Valtteri Bottas

↳ nothing yet

Yuki Tsunoda

Why?

↳ nothing seemed to hurt her more than the pain she feels, because she loves him still.

Zhou Guanyu

A day of joy in attraction park

↳ you and your boyfriend go to the attraction park

———

F1 x reader

↳ nothing yet

Driver x Driver

Nothing stops me from loving you || (Kevin Magnussen x Nico Hulkenberg)

↳ how can one hide his relationship while dating his teammate, simple it called fake dating

～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～

[j0shm0]

2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix - 63 Laps / 19 'Turns'

I took time out of night since we did not have a "FORMULA 1 MSC CRUISES GRAN PREMIO DEL MADE IN ITALY E DELL'EMILIA-ROMAGNA" in 2023 and went back to watch the 2022 Race to take down some notes about the race and atmosphere at that time.

Sprint Race Weekend (Format was FP1, Quali, FP2, Sprint Quali, Sprint Race, Race)

Sprint Podium (Max, Charles, Sergio)

In 2022 it was the 4th race of the year (Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Australia)

Top 3 Driver standings going into the weekend was Charles, George, Carlos (Max 6th)

Top 3 Driver Standing after the race weekend was Charles, Max, Sergio (only Schumacher, Hulkenberg, Latifi; no points)

Weather all weekend was cold and wet, race day was "Cloudy in a wet and drying track"

Tyre Selection was Inter/Wet, C4, C3, C2

Lewis Hamilton owns Lap Record with a 1:15 set in 2020

"championship leader Charles Leclerc on the front row next to Max Verstappen the world champion"

Max had Fuel System issues in Bahrain and Austraila allowing Charles to have 2 wins

The box on F1TV was Joylon Palmer and Will Buxton

Fastest Pit stop at this time was 2.27sec by RB in Australia

Pierre radio message in formation lap about rain in 20-25mins

Previous winners were Max - 2021, Hamilton- 2020, Schumacher - 2006, Alonso - 2005, Schumacher - 2004

No Imola race from 2007 - 2020 due to poor maintenance and legal battles

Mick Schumacher was the Logan Sargent of 2022 (finishing just outside points but people only talk about the impacts)

Checo and Lando jumped up to 2 and 3 on the start putting Charles in 4th

Daniel spun Carlos and beached him in the gravel of turn 2 (racing incident)

Mick dropped from 10th to 17th after getting spun by himself hitting a puddle on the strips heading into turn 3

Fernando got a whack in his right side pod early on and by lap 7 had a giant hole (Schumacher spun tapped)

Kmag being a defender forever, keeping George behind for multiple laps

By lap 20 everyone moved to the medium tyre; with Daniel down in 18th being the first to try it and say big gains

Esteban 5sec penalty for unsafe release during the pit stops

After pitting top 3 were Max, Perez, Charles

Lap 26 Mick was didn’t make a turn going against Latifi and went through the wet grass on slicks so he spun again

Yuki has been leading the Train in 9th for so long

Daniel pitted on lap 31 for Hard Tyre - could take him to the end if the rain stays away

DRS Enabled Lap 34 with drying track

Pierre putting on a mega defense to keep Lewis locked in 15th

Lap 38 Max was getting close to lapping people in 15th/14th/13th; Completed on Lap 41

Ferrari and Mclaren radio messages opting to stay on Medium Tyre from lap 20 pit O_O

Lando holding 4th with a 23sec gap to Charles in 3rd; Sebastian in 7th 17sec gap to Valterri

Lap 43 Exhaust bracket/valve piece from Latifis Williams could have lead to a safety car potentially

Leclerc pitted lap 50 for Soft Tyres O_O extra point fastest lap

LANDO FASTER AND TRYES COLD OUT OF THE PITS SO CHARLES COMES OUT IN 4th (swapped back following lap)

Perez Lap 51 Max Lap 52 also Soft Tyres since they had huge leads

Charles message lap 52 "Should have gone Mediums"

LAP 53 CHARLES HIT THE SAUSGE CURB IN TURN 15 and hit the wall; pitted for tyres and wing; dropped to 9th

Yuki also passed Sebastian and went up to 6th ^_^

Max, Sergio, Lando Podium; with Max lapping from Lance Stroll in 10th down to 18th

Starting Grid and Constructor standings (even left odd right as is on track)

Finishing position for Drivers and Constructors (1-10 Left/11-20 Right)

[apupcalyptic-art]

 Finished this zombie AU piece I've been procrastinating on for a while. This takes time the evening after this fight:

Story under read more

Elena sighed. She has been trying to plan their next excursion into town, but the fight she had with Isabel weighed heavily on her mind. It's no use, she thought. I'll just try to get some sleep and get back to it tomorrow. She left the library and headed towards her room, steps slow and heavy. Hopefully Isa will be asleep by now. I really don't want to think about our fight.

   Unfortunately, luck didn't seem to be on Elena's side. As she neared her destination, she could see light sleeping under the door of her bedroom. She stopped in front of it. Bracing herself, she swung the door open and stepped in, quietly closing the door behind her.

   "Isa?" Elena called softly, looking around. Nothing seemed to be remiss, except for the open balcony door. She headed towards it and peaked outside. There stood her sister, clad in just in her nightgown, leaning on the stone railing. "What are you doing out here?" Elena asked, walking out onto the balcony.

   Isabel didn't answer. She just turned her head away from her older sister, hugging herself with her arms.

   Elena leaned next on the railing next to Isa and scratched her head sheepishly. "Watching the stars? The weather's nice tonight." She tried again to engage her sister.

   "I'm sorry."

   "Huh?"

   "I'm really sorry for what I said earlier!" Isa repeated, finally turning to face the other. There were dried tears on her face. "I really didn't mean it, I was just angry you were treating me like a little kid again."

   The older sister stared at the younger girl, before sagging down and leaning heavy on her arms. She looked across the palace courtyard and towards the dark city. "It's alright, Isa. You didn't do anything wrong."

   "But I--"

   "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have snapped." Elena said, still looking down. "I'm just so... Tired, all the time."

   "Maybe you could have Gabe and Naomi take charge tomorrow, then? You could sleep in." Isabel suggested, bumping Elena's arm with her shoulder.

   "I don't think sleep is gonna help, honestly." Elena chuckled sadly. "I'm tired because I worry about... Well, everything. About Abuelos and Esteban, they've been gone on their vacation for so long, and who knows if Enchancia is safe. We're slowly getting low on food, and now with me hurt and Mateo dead... I can't lose you, too." She finished, finally looking down at Isabel. "I love you too much."

   "I love you too, Elena." Isa smiled, leaning into Elena's side. "And... I'll try to find something I can help with inside the palace. So you don't have to worry!"

   "I'll always worry about you. But thank you." Elena pressed a kiss to her sister's forehead. "How about we go to bed? Sleep sounds amazing right now."

[keelt9]

Cap. 3

Part 1

Masterlist

Caro and __ are waiting in the same tree as always, eating and talking about the imminent wedding of her mother and the things that changed and the one who will still be doing it.

“Wiser decision.” Before her mother gets married, she will move with her sister to her apartment at least until she graduates, after that she will move with Enrique where she will remain working.

“Actually it’s my only option, Esteban in a couple of months will have a crowded house.” __ take a deep breath, if someone told her three years ago, she will be living with her sister, only with her sister, she will tell them they were crazy.

Caro knows __ , she recognizes that gesture in her face; the open eyes, shoulders down and twitching fingers. She is sad, really sad, but the most important; she’s angry; and the worst thing, it seems she isn't’ the only one who didn’t know why, also her siblings find it hard to know the reason.

“__…” Caro 's words stuck for her cell phone ringing. “What does this girl want?” The fact that the tightened teeths and rolled eyes were enough to put a smile on __'s face. 

“Yeah…I get it… Mar you are a constant pain.” Were the last words before Caro ended the call.

“Well, it seems we have to get inside, Mar needs her computer and she left it in the car, and no, she said you better not stay here, outside alone.”

Orders are orders, and with a stressful Mar, no one wants to mess up.

“I can wait here.” __ says to Caro standing outside in front of the big storage doors. “I’m inside of the perimeter, you say that to her.” Caro smiles and gets inside.

After three weeks here, it is definitely colder than the first day, making her put her hands together and blow to try to warm. 

“Gloves are a better option.” She recognizes the voice and turns around. She knows it’s a movie but what the hell, all of them look like they were starving until death, and makes her a little unforgettable to sustain her eyes on him, so she quickly turns her sight back to the sky.

“Oh, right, I never thought about it.” She could help it, sarcasm seems a hereditary thing. “Still, it seems that I’m warmer than you.” 

Enzo found it kind of endearing the fact she didn’t even look at him. “How could you know it? You didn’t even look at me.” That caused __ giggles, clear her throat and look at him.

“Yep, I’m definitely warmer.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You should go inside, I think you will freeze at any minute.” She pointed from his head to his toes. “Literally a stalactite.” Both of them laugh, Enzo takes the courage to give the first step.

“I’m Enzo.” He extends his hand, __ smiles and shakes it. 

“__” It’s so clear the difference in temperature. He's cold and skinny, literally she feels is grabbing a piece of ice, and she’s warmer, he feels is touching the sunlight. 

“Nice to finally know your name.” __ take account the time she has been here and cross their paths but never mention her name. 

“OMG MAR! That is the kind of thing you mention right away!” Caro is at the end of her patient;  __takes her hand and puts it back to her pockets. 

Just a second later, because Mar has been unable to take her eyes from the scene since she noticed walking to the door, the giggle and the seconds __ maintaining her hand in Enzo’s.

<Omg, I’m crazy>, Mar thought and cursed Matias for placing that scenery in her head.

“Sorry, I don't remember which one was!” Caro takes a deep breath and says hi to Enzo. “Let’s go __, one more day, one more day, and will be free.” 

“Said the girl who left her bestfriend for her boyfriend.” Mar ads scrunching her nose and smiling at Caro. She didn't even have to beg __ for please pick Mar for the last time tomorrow night, Alonso invited her to dinner and pre celebrate Christmas. 

“She does it because she loves to see her best friend happy, right?” Caro hugs __ by her neck making her nod but pushing away at the same time. 

“All right, all right, let’s stop from making a scene in front of Enzo.” Mar said before pushing them to start walking, __ unable to get rid of Caro’s hug. “Goodnight Enzo, see you tomorrow.” Mar walks behind the girls laughing, as Enzo says goodbye.

“Let’s go, last shot of the day!” Enzo was watching so carefully the scene, he didn’t even hear or see Agustin walking to him pushing him inside to start to shoot. 

Enzo’s last scenes are scheduled to end the first week after the short period of vacation, even with the tiring year over them, they feel excited for just 24 hrs split apart from a well deserved rest. They go inside to the storage where everything is already set for the last recording of the day, Enzo set in his place to start recording.

“He seems more excited than a few moments ago.” Matias mentions to Agustin at the end of the day, as they walk to remove all the makeup and clothes.

“I think he was having fun with Mar and her sister.” Matias stops in a blink. 

<What?> 

“There was also another girl, with a strong gaze, black hair and probably what I consider, a contagious smile?”

Agustin was removing the clothes but he kept answering his questions. “It could be. I don’t know, I just saw Mar’s sister grabbing her by the neck and walking away.” That was enough for Matias to clap and smile, getting a forrown expression from Agustin.

“I’m excited for the end of the day, that’s all.” No one will believe that.

“Yeah, sure.” 

“JUST PICK A COLOR!” Vale keeps pressing __ to pick the color of her dress for the ceremony, even the same amount of time she asks her, __ replies with the same answer. 

“I don’t mind, you choose the color.” This time __ couldn’t leave her with a red face and fist tight, this time she had to continue with the phone call, a stupid promise she made to Enrique.

“__…” She could hear Vale taking a deep breath. “Ok, I’ll reduce it, salmon or pine nut.” Caro found it hard to contain the laugh, she was hearing all the mess for the very first second of the call.

“Valentina, they are pink, for christ sake, just pick one of those two! I don’t mind if you put me in a yellow dress.” The fact __ is losing her mind too just made all this situation funnier. 

The discussion gets to the point __ screams the salmon color, and hears the relieved sounds of Valentina.

“Jesus! Have a good night, Esteban will call you tomorrow.” By this point of the night __ has her head covered by a pillow. “Love you.” By the end of the call, Caro is covering her mouth to spot the laughing. 

“Listen I know you are tired of picking colors but, which one looks better on me?” __ breath in before sitting and watch the quandary about the skirts of her friend.

A couple of hours later, Alonso was introduced to __ before he and Caro left for their date, of course, not before __ gave him a little warning about breaking her best friend's heart, and facing that glacier stare in __’s eyes didn't leave space for a small joke.

“Okay, before he has a heart attack, we’re leaving.” Caro intertwined her hand with Alonso; Dr. Mendieta seems to have a sensor because at that moment he appears in the stairs. 

“Bring her home safely, ok?” Alonso was cut for Caro giving a kiss on her father's cheek and opening the door searching for a safe spot for him.

Dr. Mendienta sat in the living room with __, and rubbed his eyes. “I must ask for your parents' tips about this, right?” __ couldn’t contain the giggle and close his eyes just like him.

“Yeah, they have experience in that.” Dr. Mendieta laughs while __ remember the time Esteban announced his engagement and the multiple times they observe Vale go on numerous dates with a smile on her face.

“I bet they will understand me when you begin to look like her; all red faces, sparkling eyes combine with heart shaped eyes.” That causes a chill in her body forcing to stand and go and search her things to go pick Mar. 

“Don’t wish me so bad luck.” She smiles in an apologizing way before leaving the house.

Mrs. Mendienta stays hearing the conversation from the kitchen sitting with her husband just after __ leave the house, with a reproval face.

“What?!” Dr. Mendieta raises his arms in a surrender way.

“Years, we met __ since she was 6 and still you don’t know anything.” She grabs the control T.V. “She is not the girl who spent her days or minutes drawing hearts in the corner of the notebooks.”

Dr. Mendieta rolls his eyes, he knows that but he also sees some kind of resemblance of that behavior of her in his past younger days.. 

Getting two steps ahead of Mar. __ got inside of the parking lot of the storage after she arrived, just like the last time, earphones and her tablet in hand, she found the perfect spot for her to sit and work but this time to cover for the strong cold of the night, she found a little bench set between two big trees. When she sat down, took a photo of her with a huge coat, a beanie with the logo of her collage and her favorite scarf.

<Warm and safe, don’t worry> Was the message along the photo with the emoji kiss.

Mar replies with a kiss back, smiling when she sees the picture.

“They are here?” Mar jumps in her chair, almost drooping her cellphone. Matias appears out of nowhere with a mischievous face.

“Fuck! Matias, you will give me a heart attack one day.” She put her hand at the level of her heart. “Who are they?” She was trying to play the fool so, she focused again on the computer in front of her but he won’t give up so easily.

“Mar…” She smiles but shakes her head. “Listen, after our small talk I start to see crazy things ok? So, I’ll be honest and direct.” 

Mar removes her headphones and faces him.

“Matias, __ just came for Christmas holidays, she will be leaving in two weeks tops, she doesn’t come frequently and I doubt she will come back in a long time, ok? So, let’s not torment two souls for your excited imagination.” He doesn't answer not because he just resigned to the idea just because he is thinking in a way to win time.

Mar moves slowly if like a faster move will turn the flashlight in his brain.

45 minutes passed since __ sent the picture until her cell phone rang one more time. <Moises> along with the emoji of a mushroom.

She picked up the call with a soft smile on her face. Moises is another of her best friends, they met when they were 10 years old, it was the intercollegiate of volleyball, and her school was headquarters. In that time Moises faced the team in where a boy who caught the attention of __, was playing after win in a flattening victory; he gave her the advice at least put her eyes in someone who can throw a ball across the room, not to the head of his teammates; that rude sincerely likes __, by the end of the week and the finish of the intercollegiate, __ found a new friend with the time became a important pillar in her life.

“What coincidence of life? We almost have the same schedule!” She hears the gasping voice, an indication of his late night runs. Even though they didn’t study the same engineer, the last subject was the same. “When did you take project I+D? I mean, I thought we had 2 subjects left.” 

__ laugh if he attended the class last semester, he would know, she already passed that subject. “Going to classes helps to approve the subjects, you know?” 

Moises starts to get slow and stops his clock; in Mexico even if it is winter the colder temperature begins in January; so, still the weather is nice for a late night running, but the cold air starts to cause some troubles in his breathing.

“How are you?” __ take a small breath before answering, not removing her eyes from the screen of her tablet, but her finger floating above it. 

“Earth calling __” She blinks, __ didn’t even realize she stopped asking herself that question since she came here, with all the thrilling emotions of being with Caro, the distance of her problems at home and from her family, seems enough to hide that question.

“Am…fine? I guess, I mean…” Moises could picture her lending her head to the left with her furrowed eyebrows.

“You don’t have to answer just to say something.” He sat on a bench near the entrance of the park where he used to run. “I’m asking because come on! Seeing a message from you it’s like a miracle.” With that he gets a scoff from her followed by a giggle.

“You don’t ask but I will tell you…” 

For 15 minutes he told about how his mother has drag him from side to side of the town buying and carried things for the Christmas dinner, this year his house it’s the place for all his family reunited, __ enjoy hear him, even she stops from working and just draw things in a new field in white.

“OH! Your strudel is from another world!” Moises is well known to his family and friends for his gift and making the most delicious dessert anyone ever tastes. 

“Promise, no, no, swear me you will make me one, when I am back!” __ point to her cellphone like if he is able to see the determination in her face.

[beechersnope]

can we get any snippets of ch3 of welcome to my island? that fic is my roman empire aka im always thinking about it

yes ofc! it's definitely not abandoned but i think trying to finish this chapter before i move is futile, so i'm going to try my best to do some solid work on it once i settle into my new place

but for now here are some bits & pieces

***

“We should probably just shower together, right?” Max suggests once they walk in. George stops at the end of the bed, but she continues, only pausing once she’s reached the doorway to the bathroom. “I mean, we’re both wearing swimsuits, so. It just seems practical, don’t you think?”

George can only muster up a nod in response.

And it isn’t exactly sexy, standing back-to-back in an overly large shower still dressed in their swimsuits as they rinse all the saltwater from their bodies. But George feels Max’s presence like Jupiter’s gravity pressing down on him, nevertheless.

***

Carlos rolls a five next. “Give a random player a lap dance,” he announces with a somber frown, followed by even more overexaggerated complaints from some of the other boys.

Pretty much the same ones that had been vocally disappointed by the result of Isabel’s turn, but that doesn’t come as a surprise to George, who had seen the same group react similarly last year. It doesn’t bother him either, since they’re all friends and everything is done in good fun, but he finds himself glancing over at Max to see if it bothers her, only to be met with a perfectly blank poker face as she watches Carlos roll a twenty.

“Oh,” Charles announces with ruddy cheeks. “That’s me.”

Pierre, Esteban, and Lando all start laughing uproariously as Carlos gets up and Charles moves a chair into the middle.

“Make it real sexy, Carlos,” Esteban calls out to him.

“Oh, the Ferrari fangirls would love to see this,” Pierre adds, both of them clearly trying to get a rise out of the other two.

Charles flips them off as he takes a seat, legs spread enough to make his lap a comfortable width for Carlos to straddle him.

“Is the timer started yet?” Carlos asks Daniel as he scoots into place.

“No, one second, I’m getting the music.”

“What music?”

“Mmm, ready set go,” Daniel replies quickly. Smooth Operator immediately starts to play over the Bluetooth speakers, and Carlos immediately hops off of Charles’s lap.

“Oh, come on, man,” Carlos complains as everyone else tries to stifle giggles, the song still blaring overhead.

“Clock’s ticking,” Daniel tells him with a wave of his phone, the stopwatch on the screen showing the passing seconds. “You can always take a shot and pay up if you want to forfeit.”

Carlos tosses Daniel a death-glare before perching himself on Charles’s lap again and half-heartedly grinding down on him, the dulcet tones of Daniel and Lando joining in with the song as Charles tries valiantly not to laugh in Carlos’s face.

***

Esteban rolls a three. He’s far enough from them that George has to whisper the words ‘Assume the Position’ into Max’s ear since she can’t see the words scrawled on top of the green deck of cards from where she’s sitting. Just saying it aloud makes his skin prickle.

“What does that mean?” Max asks.

“Basically, just pretending to do whatever’s on the card,” George explains as Esteban rolls a fifteen; Daniel. “Well, if both players are already naked then it’s not pretend anymore, but—”

Esteban draws his card. “Froggy style,” he announces with an exaggerated pout.

“I get to top,” Daniel calls out.

“It is not like calling shotgun,” Esteban argues. “It’s my turn, I should get to be the top.”

“Well, I have seniority, so—”

“Daniel, man, you helped make the rules,” Lewis calmly interjects. “Roller gets to pick the positions.”

“Fine, fine,” Daniel says with a sigh. “I guess I’ll bottom, then.”

George watches as Max watches Daniel pretending to get fucked by Esteban, her mouth pulling into a slight half-smile as Daniel really hams it up, exaggeratedly moaning and shoving his hips back into Esteban’s crotch as Esteban crouches over him with his hands on Daniel’s waist. In the end, it’s Esteban who walks away the loser, hissing in pain as Daniel’s ass hits him square in the balls just before the thirty seconds are up.

“It’s a shame, that was one of my favorites,” Daniel says mournfully as he sets the card in the discard pile before returning to the circle.

“You say that about all of them,” Barbara points out.

Daniel shrugs. “Who says you can’t have more than one favorite?”

***

Unfortunately, Lando doesn’t manage to get a card that has anything to do with either stripping or drinking, instead rolling a five and pulling a card from the ‘Show Off’ deck. “Pick a body part you think is your best feature, then a random player is chosen who must kiss that body part.” Lando shrugs, his expression perfectly nonchalant. “I mean, obviously I’m gonna say cock,” he says as he tosses the discard into the pile with the others.

“Ooh, a gamble,” Daniel mocks in a low voice. “Will it pay off?”

Lando rolls a seven. Lewis gives a little wave of acknowledgment from the other side of the circle.

“Guess not,” Daniel says with a laugh. “Better luck next time, mate.”

Lewis just shakes his head and moves to kneel in front of Lando in the middle of the room. “How much effort am I meant to be putting into this ‘kiss’?” Lewis asks.

“Well, it better be more than just a peck,” Daniel chides. “The category is called ‘Show Off’, after all.”

Lewis doesn’t reply as he reaches up to pull the fabric of Lando’s swim trunks taut before opening his mouth to breathe hotly over Lando’s crotch, tracing the outline of Lando’s semi with his tongue through the waterproof material.

Lando hisses at the first actual contact. He reaches out instinctively to grab Lewis’s head but thinks better of it at the very last moment, instead bringing his hand up to his mouth and biting down between his thumb and forefinger instead.

After a few more seconds, Lewis pulls away and gets to his feet. “Satisfied?” he asks, directing the question at Daniel.

“Lando isn’t,” Daniel replies with a smirk. It earns him a nasty look from Lando as he rejoins the circle, his hand cupping his erection through his shorts self-soothingly, but Daniel doesn’t seem to notice.

***

Daniel saunters over to her with his phone out, still grinning. “Say, ‘oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m coming’,” he jokes.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m coming,” Max repeats tonelessly, her expression still blank. It gets a laugh out of everyone, even Daniel, who usually hates being one-upped during one of his bits. She waits a beat, then tells Daniel, “Give me a second to concentrate.”

George watches as Max closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for her face to change. The minute shifts in her expression closely resemble George’s memory of her in the hot tub—so closely, in fact, that he can’t help but wonder if she’s actually making herself come right there in front of everyone, without any stimulation at all.

Even Daniel seems impressed when he snaps the picture of her face, proudly walking around the circle to show everyone the result as Max calmly levels out her breathing again.

George waits until Daniel is well out of earshot before leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Did you actually come just then?” It’s technically against the rules, but George certainly doesn’t have any intention of ratting her out.

“A lady never tells,” Max says simply before drawing back again with a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips.

[f1]

'I'm kicking myself to be honest' Russell left frustrated after 'small mistake' costs him Monaco podium

George Russell was left ‘kicking’ himself after finishing fifth in Monaco, as he was left ruing a mistake that cost him a podium. Meanwhile, his team mate Lewis Hamilton, who finished fourth, was happy with the performance of the upgraded W14. Russell started in eighth and made it all the way up to third, as he opted against pitting, while the drivers ahead chose to swap the tyres. As a result, Russell gained track position when the rain commenced, and all the drivers were forced to pit for the intermediates. READ MORE: Delighted Ocon ‘on a cloud’ as Alpine claim first podium since 2021 in Monaco However, a mistake on his first lap out of the pit lane saw him lose position to Esteban Ocon and Hamilton, and to make matters worse for Russell, he also collided with the back marking Red Bull of Sergio Perez, much to his frustration. “I’m kicking myself to be honest, one small mistake cost us a podium,” said Russell. “I came out of the pits comfortably ahead of Esteban and Lewis, there was a yellow flag at Turn 5, I backed off and as soon as I pressed the brakes I locked up and followed the yellow flag. “I think that’s almost a lesson that when you’re not focussed sometimes – or not on it – that’s when mistakes happen. I probably wouldn’t have made that mistake if there hadn’t been a yellow flag there. This feature is currently not available because you need to provide consent to functional cookies. Please update your cookie preferences 2023 Monaco Grand Prix: Perez punts Russell after the Mercedes driver rejoins the track in front of the Mexican “Yeah, really disappointed because after that pit stop it would basically have guaranteed a podium… P3 was definitely achievable today. I have only learned afterwards that my mistake wasn’t shown on TV – not sure if that’s a positive thing or not.” When reminded that it was tough conditions for all the drivers, Russell responded: “Yeah, it definitely was, it wasn’t the easiest conditions. But they were conditions where I feel like we can maximise the opportunities. READ MORE: Alonso says he ‘didn’t have a chance’ to take Monaco GP win as he praises Verstappen for driving ‘super well’ “Where you know as a driver, if you do a better job than the rest you can pick up the pieces, and we were on course for that until we weren’t, or until I wasn’t with my mistake. Yeah, I really don’t know what more to say.” Hamilton on the other hand, started the race up in fifth and, after capitalising on Russell’s mistake, pushed Ocon all the way for the final podium spot to no avail, but he was still happy to take the "significant points" home for the team. Hamilton was happy with the performance of his upgraded car in Monaco “I’m pretty happy, we’ve moved forwards,” said Hamilton. “Coming into the weekend, I didn’t know where we would stand so to have come out fourth and fifth, it’s really great points for the team. "So, a huge thank you to everyone back at the factory in bringing those upgrades. It’s been so much work to bring those here and we kept them in one piece and brought it home, you know we beat the Ferraris and got some significant points as a team.” READ MORE: Verstappen beats Alonso to Monaco GP victory despite rain causing late drama When asked how much of a read he got on the upgrades during the race, Hamilton said: “Next week, Barcelona is the best test circuit for us, so I think it was really difficult here to know. “The car feels really stiff, there were lots of bumps, yeah, tricky but definitely noticed one particular part of the car that was better but I’m sure next week the whole thing will be a much, much better package. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[a-lilacsong]

If Elena of Avalor characters had Pokémon: Part One

I was inspired by @dittomander post about this and I've been thinking about this for a while, so here are some of my own headcannons for their Pokemon:

Princess Isabel - Bronzor - Isa was so excited to get her starter, she's always thought that steel types are really cool and was so happy that the local place where you get your starter pokémon had one. It uses its psychic abilities to help her carry around large pieces of scrap metal and equipment so she can make even bigger inventions. She got her starter on the same day that Christina got her starter and that is how they met and became friends. (They are also technically rivals but friendly rivals, like Hop or Nemona. It eventually becomes a Bronzong, and Elena pointed out how perfect it is for her because it looks like a bell, the perfect Pokemon for her sister IsaBEL, and Isabel replied to her with the most exasperated sigh you've ever heard.

Luisa - Slurpuff - When she was a girl working in her parents’ chocolate shop, it was always surrounded by Swirlix, and she would feed extra chocolate to them. When she was old enough to have her first Pokémon, she chose one of those little guys. She then taught it to play Olaball with her, which after it learned how to bounce the ball without it getting stuck to its fur, it really enjoyed. Eventually it became a Slurpuff after she did a trade-tradeback with Francisco. It also enjoys helping her with baking, but Luisa has to make sure it doesn't eat all of the cookies before they finish them.

Francisco - Roserade - As a kid, he was always challenging people to Pokémon battles and going off through forests and beaches with his Roselia looking for adventure, leading into his adventures with Los Tres. He found a shiny stone for it on one of his last missions with Los Tres. Even when he stopped adventuring, it still reminded him of the past, in a good way. Nowadays it helps him with gardening.

Esteban - Phione - He found it when he was sailing to a political meeting. It was clinging to the side of the ship and it looked really hungry so he sort of picked it up and fed it and then it wanted to be his best friend forever. He hasn't realized it's a mythical Pokémon yet. A person will just come up to him like, “Wow, isn't that a super special pokémon?” and he's like “Yes, all my pokemon are super special to me.”

Armando - Banette - Armando was a lonely child and his brother didn't make that any easier for him. So sometimes, in his spare time, he would make puppets. But when his brother found out he said that it was a stupid hobby and threw them out. Armando was devastated until the next night when his puppet came back, but as a Pokémon! It had helped him with his farm chores and when he grew up and got a job at the palace it could help carry around extra scrolls. But its favorite thing to do with Armando is helping him with the puppet shows he performs for the kids, (it is technically a puppet after all). It can help levitate props or move around extra puppets or even perform in the shows itself. Some people think it looks pretty spooky at first, but soon they realize that it's just as kind and sweet as its trainer.

Doña Paloma - Swanna: This flying type is quite skilled at battling (because losing Pokemon battles means giving up your money to the winner) but Paloma would rather defeat other trainers in pokemon beauty contests, of which she and Swanna are famous for winning. Paloma also makes use of the move fly to get around town, because you have to be fast when you're in business!

(17 more under the cut)

Carman Guzman - Morpeko - It has the least picky taste of any other Pokemon in town and would happily eat anything Carman cooked for it regardless of the quality, much to her delight and her brother's annoyance.

Julio Guzman - Lurantis - He is very proud of how bright and colourful its leaves look and takes special care to make sure it is healthy and well-groomed at all times. He entered it in a Pokemon contest once, and it beat Doña Paloma’s Swanna. She will probably hold a grudge against him forever.

Marlena - Skeledirge: It’s able to sing along quite well to her songs and gives the performances extra fire! Many people think it looks scary before they get to know it, but quickly learn that it’s sweet and friendly. (Marlena can relate to Armando about this.)

Higgins - Wooper (Galarian): Wooper is a precious good little bean and is perfect for Higgins. Higgins buys/makes little hats for it to match any funny hats that he wears. Wooper loves wearing hats and always rides on his shoulder.

Ixlan - Tynamo: Ixlan used to have another Pokemon before being sealed away, but that one is long gone by the time they are freed. So instead the Lightning Warrior finds a tiny little Tynamo and declares that it has a mighty spirit and they will train them to become a powerful lightning warrior as well. Even though it's quite small and weak, the Tynamo is very determined to become strong and takes great joy in every Pokemon battle it’s in.

Antonia - Leavanny: Leavanny was quite good at helping Antonia with tailoring work and when it found out about her dream of becoming a guard it learned Leaf Blade and Swords Dance to help her with fencing.

Tomiko - Klefki - She is so enthusiastic about her Pokémon she won't even challenge you to a Pokémon battle, she'll just pull it out like “Look at my Klefki, isn't it amazing?!” Metalworking is her hobby and she makes a bunch of keys for it to hold.

Felicia - Oricorio: Back in her heyday, where she was performing dance for people with her husband it was normally in Baile Style performing along with them. But after her husband went to the spirit world as they say, she had it in Sensu Style hoping that maybe it could connect with his ghost.

Rafa de Alva - Oinkologne - It is just as headstrong and diligent as its trainer when it comes to keeping things organized a certain way. It was very good at helping Rafa look after Mateo when he was a baby.

Roberto Núñez - Heatmor - It's actually pretty lazy. It'll normally just curl up on the floor of the bakery and have a high temperature nap. Roberto often brags that out of all the bakeries in town, he doesn't need to pay for coal or firewood because he has a Pokémon that can naturally cook the bread for him.

Blanca Núñez - Dachsbun: Roberto got it for her after they got married and she just loves this little bread dog. She takes it on walks in the park every afternoon and it has become the bakeries unofficial mascot.

Daniel Turner - Pelipper: It helps him deliver messages to sailors on other ships. When Naomi was really small she would climb on its beak to ride it, which would always end in chaos.

Scarlett Turner - Crawdaunt: Even though this type of Pokemon is normally notoriously difficult to train, Scarlet was more than up to the challenge. Sailors far and wide know about Scarlett & her pokemon's battle prowess, on land and the sea.

Antonio Agama & Pablo Agama - Solrock & Lunatone: Found them both at the old rock that they used to play at when they were kids. After they grew apart anyone who pointed out that they had similar Pokemon to each other would be ignored immediately. Using their psychic/rock abilities, they make it easier to find artifacts in ruins to study (or steal).

Professor Mendoza - Excadrill - It carefully helps her unearth ancient treasures. Its expression naturally looks pretty tough, but whenever it finds something in the dirt it will just look up so expectantly like “look I did it I found something!” Mendoza is very proud of it, even when it turns out that all they found was just an old tree root.

Professor Ochoa - Emolga - She is definitely the kind of professor who would be giving young trainers their starter Pokémon. Emolga usually rides around on her head and helps her whenever her experiments need an extra spark of energy.

Octavio - Aggron: Octavio first found it when it was just a tiny little Aron eating up some scrap metal after he'd done a repair job, so he decided to take it along with him and feed it any other scrap metal he had. Over the years because of its good diet as well as moving around heavy things to assist Octavio with his job, it's actually become very very strong. Any kids looking to have a quick battle should really think twice before they try challenging these two.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

A Friendly Interrogation

Note: Originally this was going to be an Estenaomi since I do so few of those but it just didn’t fit the mood of the piece so I won’t with a very old ship that was mentioned in the beginning of EOA fandom days. Esteban and Prof. Mendoza. probably stemming with how easily Prof. Mendoza dispatched Esteban’s foibles with aplumb in Finders Leapers. 

“I’m just saying, I should get to interrogate her too! I’m one of your best friends. I’m the one who said she’d be perfect for you!”

Esteban rubbed his temples in annoyance at his companion’s insistence that she talk to Zelia about their new relationship. Honestly, Dona Paloma was like a dog with a bone on the subject of his romantic life. First, trying to set him up, now this. And how the hell did they went from tariffs to this topic anyway?

“My family has already met her over dinner and like her, and you didn’t set us up. We’ve known each other for years before you even suggested I go out with her.”

“But I’m the one who said you should date her. I set you up, I expect full credit at your future wedding. Can I plan it?”

Esteban facepalmed, groaning, “No, I’m not putting my wedding in your hands. And you don’t get credit for anything. My relationship with Zelia progressed without any interference from you.” 

“I just want to see how happy she is with you and if she deserves you,” Dona protested, swiping the hand that was still stuck to Esteban’s face. 

“She is enough for me.” Esteban snapped meaningfully at the insuination of Zelia’s character, “She is more than enough. It’s not a matter of whether she deserves me.” 

“Please, Esteban. It’s not fair. I’m practically your family. I’ve seen you at your worst. I don’t want you to be hurt again.

Esteban almost did a double-take at that comment. Dona never made any mention that she cared about his emotional well-being. Well not in such direct words. He would make a jab tthat she was getting soft about him but addressing their relationship or vulnerabilities was not their style.

“You haven’t seen me at my worst.” Arguing and contradicting each other was much more their style. 

“Uhhh the panic attacks. The multiple panic attacks. The time Shuriki found out you stopped her mercenaries from quashing a rebellion. The time when we failed to-” Dona began to list.

“Okay, fine,” Esteban sighed, conceding her point.

“I wasn’t agreeing to letting you check out Zelia,” Esteban corrected before Dona could start doing her ridiculous victory shimmy dance. 

“Too bad. I already set it up. I’m meeting her for lunch,” Dona smirked, snapping her fan open with a flutter. 

“What!” Esteban knocked his chair over in his suddenness and fell to the floor. Dona didn’t even have the decency to hide her laughter, “I knew you were going to be stubborn so I set it up anyway.” 

“But, you, her what are you going to say?” Esteban babbled frantically, already envisioning all the rude questions and embarassing stories coming out of the former Magister’s indiscreet, gossipy mouth. 

“Don’t look so horrified. I want you to be together. It’s only going to be half an hour. Just enough time to find out what I want to know. And tell her some things she should know about you.” Dona opened the door to exit Esteban’s office. 

“But. . . but. .”

“You know, good things. All good things in the best of light,” Dona winked. 

He was so fucked. 

Which is why, hours later, he was waiting outside of Dona Paloma’s emporium as Zelia Mendoza walked up from the palace. 

“Esteban what are you doing here?” Zelia asked in surprise. 

“Don’t listen to anything she says!” Esteban blurted, “You know how she loves to embarrass me and cause drama. So-so don’t take any of her questions seriously. And the stories are lies!” 

Zelia looked at Esteban’s flushed face for a moment and said slowly as to not agitate him further, “But if she likes embarrassing you, wouldn’t the stories be based on truth?”

“Yes, but they’d be so exaggerated that they’re lies. You don’t really have to have lunch with her. She’s not important. My family already loves you. I love you.” 

Zelia took Esteban’s hands in her own, smiling a bit at Esteban’s increasing hysteria. She found it amusing the more she spent time with him. “Esteban, it’s just a short lunch. Nothing she can say or do will alter how much I love you. It’ll be fine.”

Esteban inhaled deeply, some of the anxiety he felt drifting, “I just don’t want you to be. .” he searched for the word, “Offended. She wants to check you, see if you “deserve” me. But I don’t think that. I feel lucky to have you.” Zelia smiled fondly at her boyfriend. So eager to make her feel good and safe with him. So different from the distant and pompous chancellor she knew him as back when Shuriki was in charge and they had to work in secret to protect valuable artifacts from falling into her hands.

“I feel lucky to have you,” Zelia kissed him, “Now I’m going to go. This lunch will be fine. We’ve fought malvagos and deceitful queens and other awful people. I think I can handle a little lunch interrogation by your friend.”

“Can’t say she’ll remain my friend,” Esteban grumbled as Zelia walked inside. 

“Come in, come in!” Dona Paloma grandiosly swept Zelia past the rows of merchandise into her office where a tea tray was set up on her desk. 

Zelia took a seat on a plush wing-backed chair as Dona took hers at her desk, the sun shining brightly from the window behind Dona’s silhouette, causing the archeologist to squint.

“Sorry, we’re doing this so informally in my office but I have a meeting coming up. Maybe next time we can eat at a cafe. Perhaps La Vida Dulce. Has Esteban’s abuela shown you there?” 

Well that was quick. 

“Yes, yes, she has. Esteban and I sometimes bake chocolate there with the rest of the family,” Zelia replied, pouring herself a cup of chamomile. 

“Hmmm, that’s good. And how are Esteban’s cousins, do they like you? I hear how tough it is when the family doesn’t approve of you.” Dona raised a single questioning eyebrow, her eyes intently looking at her as if searching her face for a sign of weakness. 

Zelia bit the inside of her cheek at the laughably unsubtle questioning and managed a polite sip. No wonder the two clashed so much, they were too alike in their dramatics. 

“I-I think they approve of me. They’re so sweet. So energetic and full of life which is a bit of an understatement with Elena. But I understand why Esteban’s so close.” 

Dona nodded, “Good answer.” 

Zelia choked down a reply of how many points does she need to pass the test but instead took another sip and a bite of the tapas. Thank dios, there was tea. It was the only she was going to be able to remain looking serious through this.

“And how about your extended family? Have they’ve visited since you and Esteban announced your relationship? What do you do together with Esteban?” 

So so unsubtle. 

“My parents invited him to one of their lectures and dinners. Well sort of a potluck, everyone brought a dish and my mother loves to share off her famous pear and pomegranate shrub. They really liked Esteban. My father “interrogated” him about our future and all that.”

Zelia answered about to continue on how Esteban ventured to try to learn some more about her parents’ research and talk about their theses when Dona interrupted. 

“And Esteban had your mother’s famous pear and pomegranate shrub?” 

“No, no, no. He’s allergic to pomegranates.” Zelia shook her head, she was about to say that instead Esteban had some of the kebabs she made even though she had accidentally burnt the edges. Cooking was not her speciality but he was so sweet, eating it whole without complaint of its crispiness. 

“Ah, so you know about his allergies. Very good, he’s opening to you. You know how he likes to act like he’s invincible.” Dona paused and then looked at her intently as if realizing Zelia might not have known this privy information, “You do know that right?”

Zelia snorted but manahed to cough instead of letting the laugh slip out, “I think anyone who has ever met Esteban knows that.” 

Dona smiled genuinely for the first time since the beginning of this lunch, “He’s very. .” 

“Layered.” Zelia supplied. 

“I was going to say foolish at times to make up for his incompetencies, but layered is a much nicer way to put it. Good thing you’re the one dating him and not me,” Dona laughed.

Zelia nodded emphatically, from what she’d seen of their fights and the stories of Esteban, she was pretty sure they’d kill each other before the year was up. 

“Even though he’s a complicated an, Esteban is such a good catch. Handsome, somewhat mature, has a wonderful family, the title, the riches. . “ 

“Yes, but that’s not what really attracted me to him when I first met him,” Zelia admitted wistfully and with a bit of surprise at herself for falling for an obvious test question. It had come out so naturally/ 

Because it was true. 

The intense look in Dona’s eyes was back again as she indiscreetly leaned closer, “What did?” 

Zelia couldn’t help the unconscious smile that spread across her face as she wracked her brain for the exact words she was looking for. 

“I’I’ve been on my own most of my life. My romantic life was a desert to say the least. But Esteban. . . even though we butted heads and avoided each other at first, I’ve come to know his nobleness, his passion. He cares about people. He sees nuances in life and. . he knows what it’s like to have your life consumed by work, to feel your job defines you and you can’t be much more. Yet you want to be so much more. He encourages me to do what I want outside of work. I love that. I love how he makes me feel like life can be fun and exciting and hard and we can survive it with each other. . I just, there’s so many things. It’s his character. I love him.” 

“And he truly loves you too, Dona said softly, “You fit well. You know each other well.” 

A sly smie swept across her face as she leaned over conspiratorially, “I bet you know about Margarita.” 

“His mother, yes?" Zelia edged slowly, starting to suspect that the embarrassing stories that Esteban warned her about were going to be revealed.

“And you know how much he loves her and misses her. Well one night, after a few too many brandies, Esteban decided on the perfect way to honor her.” 

20 minutes later, Zelia left the store with a wave and almost walked right into Esteban who was pacing nervously outside. “How was it? What did she say? I love you more than anything.” 

“I told you, it was fine. She approves of me. We’re going shopping next week.” 

Esteban looked at her with a face of abject horror, “Ar-Are you friends now?” 

Zelia was almost tempted to say yes just to see his reaction but decided not push it, “No, I don’t know if we have enough in common to be best friends or anything. But we’re going to hang out. She’s going to get me discounts at the arboretum.” 

Esteban’s face visibly relaxed, “That’s it. She didn’t tell you anything? No stories?”

“Well. . .” 

Esteban groaned, slumping against the store’s door.

“I didn’t think they were that embarrassing. I thought it was sweet you wanted to honor your mom with a tattoo. It was the artist’s fault for thinking it was the drink and not the name.” 

“Ughh why?” 

[sincelastsession]

Had a decent time doing the birthday dinner with Lucy and Travis. My neighbors kids have taken to stalking me from both balconies, thier mother videos me cleaning outside. I heard them talking about my car today confirming with one another it's the old silver Honda fit.

My parents are acting weird and paranoid about me getting a camera. They think it will get knocked down with a broom by the neighbors. Then I got bitched out that it better be under 200 when I originally said I'd buy it they insisted. I don't know what to think. If my neighbors can have a camera and the Office and the apartment management company said "Yeah do that if it makes you feel safer and gives proof"

No one us like actually happy I am around though. Like was very nice to everyone today and people were cruel. Even my mom was nasty to me.

She also offered me a dog that Esteban brought home. I told her when I moved I could take it as a foster or I could bring it to the foster ppl at CAABR.

She got furious when I tried to explain that the dog would likely get a home or go on transport to a no kill.

He told her he inherited the dog from this old lady.

Literally none of that is true unless he is scamming other women.

I'd really like to catch his abusive ass in a big lie and expose him.

But my mom know he almost broke my hand and put a fucking cigarette out on my sister that I didn't find out about till 2-3yrs ago.

I do want him to suffer and pay for what he does and did.

My mom says my dad is worse but he never beat her or threatened her or had her likely on drugs. She always has the coke nail and has even spoken about coke nails when she worked in the OR when I was a child...but now acts stupid about it. However I caught her a while back just getting mad because she does know and she is probably hooked on something he's giving her. Her teeth look like meth mouth. Teeth don't naturally turn brown Joshua. I researched it.

I will probably never bring it up to her but it's something that aggravates me and she has lied to me about so many things and the things that she has lied to me about are so fucking outlandish that if I were to tell anybody then they would be like oh my God what the fuck because everything I tell anybody about my crazy ass family everybody's like that sounds like Jerry sprigger and I'm like yeah yeah it does I feel like I was raised in that type of environment and I have been dealing with this shit forever and I would like it to stop

Like I just need to put up a fucking camera and everybody's telling me about all these bad things that could possibly happen if I put the camera up but then I've been told by the office the courtesy officer and my apartment management company to go ahead and get a camera

So I don't know what to do about that

I mean I planned on getting one anyway

And no I don't want a weird little Chihuahua dog right now that my mom's piece of shit garage sleeping cobbler alcoholic abusive boyfriend or whatever the fuck he is I don't want a dog that he brought to me I don't care what he's done for me in the past my mom always holds this over my head and says that when I wasn't home and my mom cleaned my black disgusting toilet and bathroom well it was getting clogged with wood roaches that were getting inside from under the door and all the clutter and shit in the garage as where all those roaches live and So it was a source of water and also I don't know if their bathroom only got soft water but my bathroom got hard water so there was a lot of rust staying too and honestly I mean that happened over 10 years ago probably So I don't know why she uses that as a defense for him that he cleaned my toilet I didn't ask anybody to come over and clean for me ever he and my mom went and tried to clean my room and my bathroom and it's like I could have done that when I got home from wherever I was and them shaming me about it is disgusting and I don't care how disgusting my bathroom was I was going through a horrible depression and various other abuses And I was not doing well and I had all these diagnosis that were not real and I was on medications That were making me sick and I needed to get out of the city and I went to visit my friend Mike in abbeyville

And then I came home to chaos and it was awful and then I had to live in that chaos and then my bed broke and I just needed a new mattress even if it was cbecause I could buy a pillow top or something and my dad made me sleep on the pull out sofa until the cat's claws popped the mattress and then I was still made to sleep on top of that which hurt really bad in the living room and then I asked if I could sleep in my sister's bed since it was the only mattress and room available not filled with things that I could possibly inhabit And this went on for years because he just wouldn't get me a fucking Mattress and when I moved out he still hadn't gotten me one and so the batress I have now is 1 that Bonnie just left for me because it belonged to somebody before her so I don't even wanted to be honest but it's the only 1 I have other than my guest Room 1 which needs patting and stuff that I can't afford right now

I really don't understand why my mom wanting to give me an overweight two-year-old Yappy little Chihuahua thing was a good idea like why did she think that was a great idea that her and Esteban get me a tiny dog and won't me to keep it

I mean I regret not just being like oh my God thank you yes

Like I could kick myself for that 1

And then I could just take the dog and tell them that it doesn't get along with the cats and I took it to the pound already and it's in the foster program and then they couldn't do shit about it unless they went and paid $200 to adopt it again

And what else I am tired of my neighbors playing games with me like that's what they're doing now like they're outside sitting on the steps being fucking assholes and I can hear them and they're saying should about me and I'm not paranoid that's what they're doing and it's really irritating and I don't know why people need to bully

Understand and I would like to understand what sort of satisfaction they get from that because even if I think app the most evil plan or whatever goes beyond just a prank I mean I could think of a million different nasty fucked up things to do and it would work but would I do that and no because I'm not fucked up and they had like that to act on anything of that nature to get back at people unless they have hurt me or my animals or my family or my brain snaps and I finally have enough I don't know

I don't know I just feel threatened by all these people and I know that they're just insecure and ratchet.

I'm still really pissed off and aggravated that I had to talk someone down from killing themselves and like yeah I helped them but boo I fucking hate this this has been like a large majority of my life of people coming to me and being suicidal and me having to convince them not to do that

And as much as sometimes I would like to embrace the let them standpoint I prefer not to see people pass away and I'm tired of funerals

And sometimes I would like to just say fuck it and not care like that would be refreshing

I've seen a few trailers available that are outside of Baton Rouge and it would probably be a long drive to get Anywhere Especially in the Kind of Car I Have on Gravel Living in A trailer park but it sounds more peaceful than the city at this point and I'm not sure what to do but my parents don't want me living in a trailer or trailer park or a ghetto in word house because they are both incredibly racist even though they say they aren't and With me it's not racism I'm sure I have micro aggressions but I really don't care that these people are black honestly they could be white trash or some other skin tone I reallyDon't care I just want them to quit being awful and leave me the fuck alone.

And then now my parents are just trying to scare me about putting a camera up and I'm like why when you guys said that you would help me is it now a big deal like if we put the camera up it might get knocked down oh my God and it has me worried and I'm like what the fuck

I don't know if we can just do like standing appointments every week for Thursdays at 2 PM?

I would really like to see if my insurance would approve 2 visits a week and I think if I call my caseworker and ask her you know what should you be asking that won't have me put in some sort of stupid outpatient program because like I've had therapist who have seen me twice a week and I did not require an outpatient program and so my insurance might not require that I know some insurance is may But I'm not sure

Wish I was someone's favorite person but I know I'm not currently.

I mean yeah I have a partner and I know he loves me and cares about me but it's just like I get so many guys blowing up my messages and none of them really want to have a real conversation they just want to go on a date and fuck. It's just all about sex and what I can offer with my body and it's awful. And I am I guess going to make men wait. But I got told that if I continued to do that then I was going to end up all alone and you know I don't like to be alone and I don't want to be alone when I'm older and I don't want to marry somebody that I'm not attracted to And I don't just mean looks.

I mean I'm gonna be 38 soon and most of my friends have kids and jobs and are traveling other countries and comparison as a thief of joy but they're having a hell of a lot better time than me and I'm embarrassed honestly every time they ask me how I'm doing and I don't know how to reply because all I want to do is tell them the truth and I have to give some stupid little short oh I'm doing fine I'm doing wonderful so I'm just bullshit response but I'm not doing it okay I'm having a fucking terrible time.

And right now I can hear people being loud as fuck outside it's like 11:40 PM

All my supposed to like relax and watch TV or do anything when people are being so loud that it could be heard over that and why are none of my neighbors calling about this other than my neighbor Darlene

Because I know that there's lots of people that live in the apartments surrounding the pool but maybe they just don't know that they can contact the office

I don't know quite understanding that and I cannot wait to live in a house of my own or just somewhere fucking quiet away from everyone

The world is loud and violent and I keep getting hurt and I would rather just step away from it and live somewhere where I feel at peace

And it's either I wait for a long time and I might possibly get a house to live in or my parents die or my parents do help me find a place to live to rent and hopefully SSI goes up because I don't know if I will ever be able to do financial stability because lake in that department I don't overspend I don't think on just whims

Like I don't buy anything that's not useful or doesn't have a purpose

But like I just want my own home I want to work from home I want to have a partner that has their own job and I want to be fun actually stable or financially stable enough to live comfortably and I don't need the world's best fancy plays but this is just too stressful and I need something that's peaceful and I'm exhausted trying to keep up with everyone

I mean it's really weird being born of a family that is divided into 2 classes very poor and very well off and then watching my family who is bad with money my mom and my dad make poor financial choices and then watching both families be like fucking embarrassed and then everybody does not want to talk to them and hates them and everybody has kind of just forgotten about me or they don't want anything to do with me because I think I'm like my parents And I don't no how to do the mass in the taxes and regular banking and all I've ever known is like how the credit union works at least a little bit I don't even know all of that

And I just bright now I feel like I don't have any more room in my brain for like any information like I would love to be able to learn things and store it and bring it out when I need it but I haven't been able to do that and it's really frustrating like I just want to learn how to do new things and do them and it seems so easy for everyone else and why is it difficult for me

I've done plenty of things by myself but the things that I don't know how to do that I need assistance with so I can visually learn is really frustrating because like you know you want a person there with you while you're trying not to like fucking electrocute yourself Or not fuck up your wallpaper or whatever the case you know just home improvement things that no one ever taught me financial things no 1 ever taught me and you know I've been to outpatient facilities where they wanted to teach people who were mostly down syndrome and had other neurological problems you know all these things and how to do them pulled me out of that group because they didn't even think I was autistic they were just like you're way too smart and they couldn't find a group to put me in and they finally settled on 1 group and it was fucking terrible I had a girl get obsessed with me and another guy and I got pulled into that nightmare fuel

I had to block her on everything it was insane

It is really frustrating for it to be a Sunday And to hear my neighbor's screaming on the balcony like everybody wants to go to bed right now

[hdmolan]

* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥︎ 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? 𝑷𝒕. 𝑰𝑰 * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟔𝟎𝟖 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟑,𝟑𝟖𝟏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔         𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. : 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, 𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒉𝒓𝒊, 𝑨𝒉𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏, 𝑮𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌

 Her makeup was nearly finished when her artist had to step away for a call. She took a break from admiring herself in the mirror to scan the room and somewhat pulse check — Sumin sat directly behind Molan but in the opposite direction, so she couldn’t see Molan's attempts to get her attention. She chuckled at Gabrielle, seeming annoyed, as she was scrolling on her phone while her makeup artist moved exceptionally slowly. Sienna and Ahri sat at her immediate right and left. Waving and blowing kisses to them both as they’re getting worked on, admiring their makeup. 

 Molan noticed the photographers taking test shots and directors checking the lighting; she knew it was almost time. The labels high-tech robo-hounds came in to bring the girls dressing racks. “Oh yes, honey,” Molan whispered as she opened her rack chest to find designer garments. All appeared to be off the runway, and this excited her even more. Each outfit had a paper tab displaying which look it was meant to be worn for. As Esteban returned to her, the two of them swooned over the selections chosen for Molan to wear. It just so happened that Molan was the first up for the beginning shoot. Her first outfit was a gorgeous Roberto Cavalli heart-shaped pleated bell gown that she felt regal in. Getting her bob freshly bumped before stepping in front of the lens - Molan softly swiped her hair behind her left ear and fell into a soft yet commanding pose. The photographer screamed from behind the camera, “YES, that’s it!” It was all she needed to power through this day. Subtly striking new post after pose, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful and blessed to be living her dream. 

 All the girls were not in the scenes the label had put together. After Molan finished her first shoot, it was a little ways before the next up, and she had a moment to ‘relax’ on the side. That stopped when one of the cameramen approached Molan for the B-role. He instructed her to be herself but show off the dress — Molan took no time to provide just that. Sharing soft, pointed looks with the camera, she wished she could do this every day. 

 The next shoot and sequence were swiftly coming up, and Molan had to change clothes. She cutely squealed and jumped in excitement when she saw she was wearing the new Chanel three-piece fit and matching mules - and was expected to walk the runway. Moments such as these she dreamed of as a child. She went a step further in her excitement by adding a diamond Chanel knuckle ring and some Chanel double c broaches to her blazer - she felt they complemented the Chanel glasses that some of the girls were all wearing. The girls changed looks a few other times as well; one of the looks was added to Molans’ favorites - a fitted black mini skirt paired with a custom ‘boyfriend-sized’ white collar shirt, all Chanel. Molan strutted down the runway, as the day almost wrapped up, once more in this outfit - this time wearing a white and black Chanel hobo bag with french baguettes in them. It must be the director's humor? 

 The day had ended, and the girls were worn out from being pinned, pulled, and photographed all day. Molan had zipped her cropped hoodie and stuffed a muffin in her mouth as she grabbed her tote and headed toward the exit. She kissed Esteban on the cheek on her way out, “Same time tomorrow, babes?” the laughter of the two fades down the hallway. 

[oyesmendes]

loved us more

a/n: this is it, the second instalment to "heartbreak anniversary"! some warnings may include - mentions of anthione hubert, flowers, grieving; its a sad/angry piece :") don't hate me!!!

masterlist | heartbreak anniversary

i miss you too.

he read the words again and again. pierre remembers the feeling of waking up to that text from you, the slither of hope that he felt extinguished all the pain in his chest. he remembers picking up his phone to call you, and it rings once before going straight to voicemail.

"hi, you've reached my voicemail! i'm probably taking a nap so... i'll call you back?"

that was a month ago.

now he was here, in spa, the last stop of the triple header this year. he walks into the red bull hospitality building, greeting the team members as he passes them. valencia spots him first, and she makes a beeline towards the frenchman.

"i've got your flowers, they're in the room."

"grazie," pierre thanks her, making his way up to his drivers room. when he opens the door, the first thing he spots is the bouquet laying on the table - brown paper encasing the white and pink chrysanthemums. his heart drops, knowing that the triple thread twine holding the flowers together was your signature.

"mon ange, we could really just go to a florist for this." pierre tells you as he watches from behind.

"tonio would appreciate this." you say, placing the flowers gently on top of each other.

you had the privilege of meeting anthione when you first started dating pierre, and you immediately hit it off with his childhood friend. the three of you had grown close over the course of a couple of months, and the accident had hit you and pierre equally hard. it was the first year without him, the first race back in spa, and you wanted to make something special for him; and you know flowers were the only way to show your love for the boy now.

pierre continues to watch as you arrange the flowers with care, wrapping them in brown paper, cutting up the three strands of twine to finish the bouquet. you put it in a jug of water to keep the flowers fresh, taking a step back to admire it.

pierre hugs you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. he sighs softly, "yeah, he would."

his fingers touch the flowers gently, and pierre is almost sure that you were the one who put this together. but were you really here, in spa? he shakes the thought out of his head, he knows he can't be hanging on to that slither of hope this weekend. after the last two races that he underperformed in, he needed to focus.

there's a soft knock on the door just as pierre picks up the bouquet, and pyry sticks his head in the room.

"time for the track walk." pierre nods.

his friend looks at him sympathetically after recognising the bouquet. he holds the door open for him and pierre walks out, holding the bunch of flowers in his hand.

he walks quietly with the team, bouquet in one hand as they make their way down to the garage. he was clutching on to the stalks of flowers so tightly, trying his best to push all thoughts behind as he made his way down to the track. but he couldn't help it, he scanned the garage, the places you would usually stand while waiting for him; and you were no where to be found.

its as if suddenly pierre realised that you were really not there anymore.

his team decides to do the track walk on foot, and they make their way down - chatting about the previous race and following up with the new one. they come up right before eau rouge, and whatever strategy spoken before that long forgotten when pierre sees a silhouette he's all too familiar with, walking next to a tall frame that he knew was esteban.

"so coming right up here there aren't too many changes, just a couple-"

"sorry hang on-" pierre jogs forward but doesn't get too close as they arrive at the top of eau rouge. he watches from a distance as the girl in the blue dress squats down to place the flowers on the ground.

pink and white chrysanthemums.

"y/n?" pierre almost did not want to call out your name, in fear that he was just seeing things, hoping things. but the silhouette turns at the sound of his voice, and it was indeed you.

he jogs up the rest of the distance between the both of you, and there's a gentle smile on your face.

"hi there," you say softly. pierre doesn't speak, but he just watches you, his eyes fixated on yours. esteban looks between you and him, and he wants to say something, but decided against it, letting the pair take in the moment.

pierre scoffs, "hi? after all this time all you can manage is hi?"

esteban's eyes widen, and so do yours. you take a step back from him, eyeing the man up and down. esteban steps closer to you but you turn to him, letting him know it was okay.

"tu me manques aussi. i miss you too. you forgot about that?" he says flatly, completely ignoring the stares he's getting. you sigh, breaking eye contact with him as your eyes trail to some of the flowers that were already laid on the ground.

"let me talk to tonio first, we can talk about that later." you say, pushing past him as you knelt on the ground. and it's suddenly when pierre remembers that he's here to pay respects to anthione, so he steps back, knowing the importance of this moment to you. he laid his bouquet down, and he steps back before walking off. you look at both bouquets - almost identical to one another, and tears start to form in your eyes.

"grazie mille, y/n. i know this was very last minute. the boy didn't even tell me he hadn't gotten flowers until yesterday." valenica hugs you, holding the bouquet you just handed to her.

you knew in the moment that pierre would recognise your work immediately, but you still handed it to her, "its no big deal. least i could do after all these years."

esteban squeezes your shoulder, "i'm going to wait up front, join us when you're ready."

you nod, turning your attention back to the flowers.

"hi tonio," you sigh, bowing your head, "you've got two bouquets this year, lucky you huh?"

you laugh humourlessly, "i know, i know, if you were here, you would've nagged my ear off already. but i had to let him go, and i think you would've agreed with me," you run your fingers along the petals of the flowers, "hopefully."

"you know, there was a part of me that thought i could work it out. there was a small part of my heart that wanted to crawl back to him, to tell him i love him, that i forgive everything he did. but there's another part - a bigger part of me that knows i could never forget it." you sigh again, blowing a kiss to the flowers, "i love you and miss you tonio."

you stood up from the ground, joining esteban as you both made your way back to the pitlane. he shows you one of his tiktoks that he just curated while waiting, and you couldn't help but giggle. pierre hears your laughter fill the air first, before spotting you as you walked into the pits. he makes his way towards you, and your heart sinks.

"i'll see you later. call me if you need me." esteban whispers in your ear. when esteban leaves, pierre comes closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"come to my room." he said in a low voice.

you tug at the lanyard around your neck, "i'm with alpine this weekend."

"then i'll come to yours." he said nonchalantly.

"arrête ça s'il te plait." stop this, please

"alors ne dis pas des choses que tu ne penses pas" then don't say things you don't mean.

"comment savez-vous que je ne le pensais pas?" how do you know i didn't mean it? you clap back, folding your arms in front of your chest. there's a pause, and you take it as your cue to walk off, but you hear him shout from behind,

"est-ce que tu m'aimes encore?" do you still love me?

you spin around, walking towards him furiously. he looks at you, his eyes empty and void of any more emotion. but the attention that you've gathered from the multiple teams around you made your blood boil.

you poke his chest, speaking through gritted teeth, "you don't get to say that when you're the one who cheated on me."

"but you miss me, no?"

you scoff, pulling him into the alpha tauri garage, away from prying eyes.

"yes pierre, i miss you. is that what you want to hear? is that what will make you happy?" you pretty much exploded in front of his team, but you couldn't care less. pierre is still staring at you and he wants to say something, but a person emerges in the corner of your eye, and for a moment you couldn't believe it.

the same fucking brunette.

you snap your head in her direction, and she's like a deer caught in headlights. pierre turns in the same direction, and the look in his eyes changes - was it fear? or disappointment? you couldn't really tell. but you knew you had to leave. you turn to him, for the last time.

"don't- don't fucking call me, text me or even attempt to talk to me anymore, pierre gasly."

"s'il te plait, mon ange." please, my angel. he grabs on to your arm, pulling you towards him. you try to squirm out of it, but he wouldn't let go.

"s'il te plait? you brought her here, mon amour. after all that we went through, it only took you three weeks before you brought a new girl to a race. and it's her, pierre. i know it's her."

"i- i couldn't- you didn't pick up the phone so-"

"so you brought her here? to the one race you know was of importance to the both of us? you ruined us, pierre. with your own bare hands, you ruined us. the poor girl didn't even do anything wrong and now you're parading her around like some arm candy, something to fill the void in your heart." every word you said was laced with venom, used as ammunition against the person you still loved.

"when did we get so bad pierre? what happened to us?"

pierre looks down on the floor, "i'm sorry, mon ange."

you sigh, knowing that going on isn't going to bring either of you anywhere.

"yeah pierre, i'm sorry too." your eyes meet the brunette's as you speak to pierre for the last time,

"i hope you treat her better, because god knows she deserves more than you ever gave me."

-

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